Knowledge Is Power: The Last Reader

The written test was the hardest part.

Aria stared at the parchment in front of her, her quill hovering uncertainly over the first question. Her mind was a blank slate, wiped clean by the sheer weight of bureaucracy that surrounded her.

Question 1: Classify the following monsters by threat level: Goblin, Troll, Wyvern, Mimic, Vampire Lord.

She knew the answers. Sort of. Milo had explained all of this to her at some point, back when she’d been more interested in picking pockets than picking up knowledge. She remembered him sitting across from her in some dusty tavern, his voice patient and steady, explaining the difference between a goblin and a hobgoblin while she’d been more focused on the coin purse of the merchant at the next table.

Stupid, she thought bitterly. Stupid, stupid, stupid. Why didn’t I listen? Why didn’t I pay attention?

She glanced at Kelme, who was sitting across from her, his own parchment untouched. He was staring at the ceiling with an expression of profound boredom, like a man who’d long ago accepted that the universe had no intention of making things easy for him.

"Kelme," she hissed. "Help me."

"I’m thinking," he said, not looking at her.

"About what?"

"About how much I hate tests."

"That’s not helpful."

"It’s very helpful. It’s helping me process my emotions."

"Kelme, I need actual answers."

He sighed, finally looking at her. "Fine. What’s the first question?"

"Monster classification."

"Easy. Goblin: F rank. Troll: D rank. Wyvern: B rank. Mimic: C rank. Vampire Lord: A rank."

Aria scribbled down the answers. "Thanks."

"You’re welcome. Now stop asking me for help. I’m supposed to be taking my own test."

"You’re not even writing anything."

"I’m thinking. It’s very important."

---

The second question was about dungeon etiquette.

Question 2: You are exploring a dungeon with a party of four. One member triggers a trap and is injured. What is the proper course of action?

Aria stared at the question, her brow furrowing. She’d been in dungeons before. She’d been in plenty of them. But she’d never been part of a proper party with proper etiquette.

"Kelme," she whispered. "What’s dungeon etiquette?"

"Dungeon etiquette?"

"Yes. What’s the proper way to handle a trapped party member?"

Kelme considered this for a moment. "Depends on the party member. If they’re useful, you heal them. If they’re not, you leave them."

"That’s horrible."

"It’s practical. You can’t carry dead weight in a dungeon. It slows you down."

"I’m not writing that down."

"Then why did you ask?"

Aria sighed and wrote down something vague about healing and caution and being a good team player. It was probably wrong. She didn’t care.

---

The third question was about mimic infestations, and Aria felt a small surge of hope. She remembered something about mimics. Maybe.

Question 3: What is the proper way to handle a mimic infestation in a residential area?

She stared at the question, her mind racing. She remembered Milo talking about mimics once. Something about—

"Kelme," she whispered, her voice desperate. "What’s the proper way to handle a mimic infestation?"

"Burn everything," he said without hesitation. "Just burn it all. That’s what I did."

"That’s not helpful."

"It’s very helpful. Mimics hate fire."

"Kelme, this is a test. I need actual answers."

"Fine." He sighed, rolling his eyes. "Mimics are attracted to magical residue. If you have a mimic infestation, you need to clean the area thoroughly and reinforce your wards. Also, don’t leave treasure chests lying around. That’s just asking for trouble."

Aria scribbled down his answer. "Thanks."

"You’re welcome. Now stop asking me for help. I’m pretty sure this is cheating."

"We’re a team," Aria said, her voice carrying a note of defiance. "What you know is what I know. That’s not cheating. That’s synergy."

"Synergy is just a fancy word for cheating."

"Synergy is a fancy word for teamwork."

"Same thing."

---

The next section was math.

Aria stared at the first problem: A party of four adventurers needs to travel 50 miles to reach a dungeon. They can travel 10 miles per day. How many days will it take them to reach the dungeon?

She blinked. "This is easy. It’s five days."

"I don’t know," Kelme said, not looking up from his own test. "Maybe they get attacked by bandits. Maybe they get lost. Maybe they decide to take a detour to a tavern. Math doesn’t account for real life."

"It’s a word problem. You’re supposed to assume everything goes smoothly."

"Everything never goes smoothly."

"Just—just solve it."

Kelme sighed and scribbled something down. "Fine. Five days."

The next question was harder: A merchant sells 30 apples for 5 silver each and 15 oranges for 3 silver each. If he has 8 silver in expenses, what is his total profit?

"I hate this question," Aria muttered.

"Math questions are inherently hateful," Kelme agreed. "The correct answer is ’who cares.’"

"I can’t write ’who cares’ on the test."

"Why not? It’s honest."

---

The puzzle was the worst part.

They were locked in a room with a series of levers, a riddle carved into the wall, and a timer that was counting down from ten minutes.

"I hate puzzles," Aria muttered, pulling the first lever.

"That’s your solution? Just pulling levers at random?"

"It’s a strategy. It’s called ’trial and error.’"

"Trial and error is not a strategy. It’s a way to accidentally kill yourself."

"Then you solve it."

Kelme stared at the riddle, his brow furrowed. It read: I have cities, but no houses. I have mountains, but no trees. I have water, but no fish. What am I?

"A map," Aria said, her eyes lighting up. "The answer is a map."

"How do you know that?"

"I used to steal maps. From travelers. It was a whole thing."

"Of course it was."

The next line of the riddle appeared: I have four legs in the morning, two legs in the afternoon, and three legs in the evening. What am I?

"A human," Aria said. "It’s about the stages of life. Crawling, walking, walking with a cane."

"Where did you learn that?"

"I used to steal from philosophers too. They’re surprisingly bad at guarding their belongings."

Kelme stared at her. "You’re a menace."

"I’m resourceful. There’s a difference."

The final line appeared: What is always in front of you but can’t be seen?

"The future," Aria said immediately. "It’s the future."

"How do you know that?"

"I used to steal from fortune-tellers. They’re terrible at guarding their belongings too."

"Your entire education was based on stealing things."

"Pretty much. It worked out well."

---

The door clicked open with thirty seconds to spare, and Aria stumbled out into the hallway, her heart pounding with adrenaline.

"I can’t believe that worked," she said, breathing heavily.

"Neither can I," Kelme agreed, following her out. "I definitely thought we were going to die."

"You’re so dramatic."

"I’m realistic. There’s a difference."

---

By the end of the day, they had their ranks: Bronze. The lowest possible rank.

"Great," Aria said, staring at her new badge. "Now we can hire an explorer."

"Not yet," Kelme said, holding up a hand. "We need to rise through the ranks first. Bronze explorers aren’t good enough for the Wonderland. We need at least Gold."

"How do we rise through the ranks?"

"Quests. We take quests, complete them, and earn reputation. It’s a whole system."

Aria sighed, burying her face in her hands. "Quests. Of course. Because nothing in this world is ever simple."

"Cheer up," Kelme said, patting her shoulder. "At least we’re legitimate now."

"Legitimate adventurers."

"Exactly. Legitimate adventurers who are hiding from the law."

"Legitimate adventurers who are hiding from the law and trying to rob a tomb."

"Best kind of adventurers."

Aria looked at him, a reluctant smile spreading across her face. "You’re ridiculous."

"I know. But you like me anyway."

"I don’t like you. I tolerate you."

"Same thing."

---

Their first quest was to stop a goblin invasion. It was super easy. They showed up, Aria blasted them with light, Kelme charmed the survivors, and the whole thing was over in less than five minutes.

"That’s it?" Aria said, standing over the defeated goblins. "That’s an F rank quest?"

"I think the guild just hates us," Kelme said.

"Or maybe they’re testing us."

"Testing us for what? Competence? We just demonstrated competence."

"Maybe they’re testing our patience."

"They’re failing."

The second quest was to clear a mill of rats. Even easier. Aria killed them with a single burst of light, and Kelme charmed the survivors into leaving and never coming back.

"Rats," Aria said flatly. "They sent us to kill rats."

"Maybe they’re saving the hard stuff for later."

"Or maybe the guild just hates us."

"Maybe both."

The third quest was to escort a merchant through a forest. It was boring. The merchant talked too much, the forest was dark, and nothing interesting happened.

"I want to fight something," Aria said, kicking a rock.

"Be careful what you wish for," Kelme warned. "You might get it."

"I hope I do. I need something to break the monotony."

---

By the time they’d reached C rank, Aria was ready to scream.

"The guild has standards," the receptionist kept saying, and Aria kept wanting to set her on fire.

"The guild has standards," Aria mimicked, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "The guild has standards. The guild has standards. If I hear that one more time, I will burn this building to the ground."

"You can’t do that," the receptionist said, not looking up from her paperwork.

"Watch me."

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