Carl is here to find a stable job, and he is not here to make a girl, so he naturally won't take the initiative to find trouble, so he nodded very calmly.

The old lady didn't say anything more when she saw this, but told Karl to sit down here, and when she brought the tools for copying, she left.

Carl had the time to look at his small workspace this time, it was a simple doorway, it was supposed to be just a hiding hole or something, it looked like it was a few years old, the walls of the cave had blackened marks, there was moss growing in the corners and bricks, and the walls were messed up with a lot of meaningless words.

The whole doorway was not very deep or high, just a table and a chair to put down so that he could stand straight!

Because the door hole is not deep, so the lighting is OK, and when the weather is bad, it can shelter from the wind and rain, in general, as a copy room, it is more than enough.

As for the desk, it looks like it has been used for many years, and the original rough red pine table top has been rubbed very smooth and flat. The table was simple, with only a rusty iron candlestick and a clay vase with a broken corner.

In a few moments, Mama brought a pile of copying utensils, a thick tome of parchment, a thick stack of blank parchment, a bottle of ink, three quills, and a small piece of flint and steel, and a candle the thickness of a finger.

"Please get to work, although you are late today, but thirty manuscripts a day are indispensable, please finish as soon as possible!"

With that, the old lady turned to leave, leaving Carl in front of a thick stack of blank manuscripts.

"Thirty sheets, this is really not an easy task!"

Carl flipped through the book, roughly looked at the contents of the book and the size of the parchment, and estimated that there were about 300 words on this page, one including two pages on the front and back, and thirty pages were sixty pages, a total of about 18,000 words. And his hand speed, if he is purely copying, can write about 2,000 words in an hour, and he basically has to work hard for nine hours, which is to copy for nine hours, and there is no way to be lazy in the middle.

“...... You are the fire, you are the light, you are the elegy of life, you are the hope of the dawn...... Holy, holy, thou art Seraphim in the lost world, with noble wings and brilliant eyes......"

Karl looked at the book with its thick parchment cover, the plainly bound book, and when he opened it, he saw a long list of hymns. Today, instead of the most important scripture of the Glorious Church, the Holy Scriptures, he is going to copy, but the Praise of Light, a collection of hymns dedicated to the deeds of epic heroes and saints during the Dawning War.

Turning the first page of this hymn book and seeing the first line of the title page, Carl couldn't help but snort.

"Whoever steals a book, or borrows it, it will turn into a snake and bite you, and you will suffer from syphilis and die in agony, and silverfish will bite through your stomach, and after death you will be tormented by the fire of hell. ”

The first line of the title page is neither a preface nor an inscription in praise of the Lord of Light, but a curse full of resentment. Reading between the lines, the resentment of the original owner of the book against the book thief jumped on the page, and the full malice almost overflowed.

"And there's a way to play!"

Unbeknownst to Karl, in the Middle Ages, books were extremely valuable, even manuscripts, were extremely expensive.

First of all, a manuscript should have a base copy for copying. Parchment is very expensive (imagine how many sheep you have to kill for a book), and even if you are lucky enough to borrow a book from a nobleman or a monastery, you have to copy the entire book in a short time.

In the Middle Ages, there were no electric lights, and candles not only cost money, but also easily contaminated manuscripts and caused fires, and scribes generally worked by daylight, from sunrise to sunset, and prayer and labor in between were not exempt. In order to meet the deadline, sometimes even eating and drinking water toilets are omitted.

For a long time, the main function of books obtained by such hard work was not even to read, but to preserve and show off, to display and collect as a family heritage. Therefore, owners will set strict reading restrictions and preservation measures to prevent the precious books from being damaged or lost.

As for writing a vicious curse at the beginning to warn the book thief, that's perfectly normal - in this world where supernatural forces exist, some curses may really be more than verbal curses.

Karl curiously flipped through the manuscript and found that the manuscript was very rich in content, in addition to the main text, in the blank space outside the border of the text, there were narrations and questions that the scribe secretly used to vent his feelings.

"It's finally done, for the sake of the Lord of Radiance, get some drink!"

"The ink is thin, the sheepskin is poor, and the text is difficult. ”

"Thank you, thank you, Holy Maiden, it's getting dark!"

"The full text is over—the full text is almost over, and the scribe is joking. ”

"End of the full text, the party begins!"

The manuscript in Karl's hand is supposed to be a very old book, not only the paper is yellowed, the raw edges are almost smoothed, and almost every few pages of the book have the impressions of the scribes of the time.

Some of them complain about the weather, some about food, and some about rats and cats. It is accompanied by an illustration of how the most odious rats steal bread, knock over inkwells, and contaminate manuscripts.

Obviously, this manuscript must have been done in a dark, damp castle, as Carl could often see narrators and captions complaining about the dark, humid air, rats, and even cute cats peeing everywhere, making the room smell bad.

Just reading these captions, Karl couldn't help but feel the same way, and shed tears of sympathy for the experience of these scribe predecessors who did not know hundreds of years ago.

Looking at his current environment, although it is not as bright as the classrooms and offices of the earth, it is very good to be able to copy books with peace of mind, without being disturbed by mice and cats.

And just as Carl spread out the manuscript paper and was about to start work, a folded tissue paper suddenly fell out of the thick parchment book.

It's a snow-white tissue paper, very light, very thin, and with a hint of jasmine perfume. Karl recognized that it was a precious piece of bamboo paper, which, like silk, came from the mysterious realm of elves, and was a high-end item used only by the nobles and the rich.

Carl opened it curiously, but found that it was a love letter from a young girl to her lover.

"Dear Franco,

I've received the letter you last brought to Ankada, but the hateful little bitch of the Drew family got it first, and she was so jealous and hateful of your love for me that she wanted to hide it...... Lord, let the devil take that vicious little bitch, she should go down to the deepest part of hell, and her sins are enough for the merciful Lord to open a new level below the ninth level of hell......"