By dawn, before the next trial began, Lucen gathered the remaining recruits and had them register their names, affiliations, and whether they possessed aura, mana, any unique magic, or none at all.
He intended for them to write it down, but unsurprisingly, many couldn't. Even among Thornefang's own, only a handful could read or write.
The rest stared at the parchment as though it were coded spellwork, eyes flicking with a quiet shame they tried to hide. Some gripped the quill like a dagger, stiff and unsure. Others muttered excuses, cheeks red from cold and embarrassment.
Lucen said nothing; he didn't need to. He simply sighed internally at the sight. He was once again reminded that this is the medieval era, a fantasy one, but still medieval.
'Well, it was no different from my old world... I just need to teach them how to read and write. Maybe Robert can help with that.' Lucen was already planning on how to make Thornefang better, not only through arms but in mind as well.
