"Hmmm...this, I have a few ideas of who specifically could've sent this," Argyle mumbled as he examined the seal. "None of them really make sense though, what would the Vankars want with you?"

  I scrunched my brow, I recognized that name.

  Not at all for good reasons.

  "Fantastic, I've got the attention of a bunch of sociopaths," I grumbled.

  Argyle blinked and turned to look at me. "The Vankars are renowned for their honour and loyalty to the empire, why would their attention be anything bad?"

  I rolled my eyes. I didn't feel like explaining their reputation among the peasants. Nor did I really care to regale to him that the 'virtues' of nobility were exaggerated at best, twisted at worst. Instead I huffed and extended a hand.

  "Hand it over, let's see what they have to say."

  Argyle perked up. "You're going to let me read as well?!"

  "Yeah, why wouldn't I?"

  "It's just...this is an important letter! Probably. Most people won't let another read it without some kind of price."

  "It's just a letter," I chuckled.

  His eyes sparkled, and even the idiot of a guard that followed him around seemed amused. I shrugged and broke the seal to roll out the scroll on the table. Argyle looked consumed by curiosity as he got to what I could only call speed-reading, while I decided to take it slow. It was interesting in how little it said in so many words.

  Argyle blinked and turned to me before I could even finish reading. "Who's Erd?"

  I scrunched my brow at the boy. "What?"

  "Erd," he repeated. "He's mentioned only once at the end, but the whole letter reads like a dramatic buildup to reveal his name."

  "Huh. Strange."

  "So?"

  I hummed and got to thinking and...nothing. "Can't think of anyone with that name, no. Maybe they sent it to the wrong person? That'd be pretty funny."

  "Well, the letter seems to be intended for a...'hunter of the rats', so it's probably for you."

  "I don't fucking know," I sighed. "The name honestly means nothing to me. Since you seem to have read the whole damned thing already, would you consider summarizing so I don't have to?"

  "You will not treat the young master like some petty scribe, ingrate," the guard growled.

  I raised a brow at him. "I pray for the day when you learn how to shit, maybe then you'd finally rid yourself of the stick stuck up your ass."

  "It's a shame your parents never taught you how to cleanse your mouth." the guard shook his head. "Then we might be free of the perpetual smell of bullshit permeating your breath."

  I scowled, bringing up my parents was a low blow. "At least I'm nobody's sycophant, how does the magister's cock taste? Is it glazed with as much honey as their words?"

  The guard blinked, then opened his mouth wide in shock, as did Argyle as he turned to stare at me.

  Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

  "What?" I said. "I thought we were bantering."

  "Y-you do not insult a magister in banter, you mentally deficient raccoon!" the guard exclaimed.

  For once, Argyle seemed to agree with his guard, nodding vigorously.

  "Okay," I said. "Why?"

  "You could face twenty lashes of the whip!"

  There was a pause, and I took a moment to really think about that. Twenty lashes was a pretty high number. Might increase my understanding of pain though.

  "Only if we told anyone, or if anyone heard," I said.

  "We're in the middle of the hunters guild." Argyle scrunched his brow.

  I nodded. "Exactly, so we'll be fine. It's just ever so loud in here. Isn't that right Everett!"

  Everett didn't turn to acknowledge me, despite my yelling of that last portion, continuing on with his meal. I pointed to him as though he was a wonderful display of my point. Both the guard and Argyle looked at each other flabbergasted.

  Argyle's eyes returned to me. "Is it really that loud in here?"

  Even his guard gave him a look for that.

  "So basically it's all just pleasantries?" I raised a brow.

  Argyle nodded, slightly confused. "Yes, as well as an open offer to visit their estate back in Feringale...they're weirdly treating you like some kind of equal—" I gave him a glare at that. "—Not that you're not! It's just that the higher caste tend to be...hmmm."

  "Cunts?" I provided for him.

  He balked at me, but didn't deny it. I chuckled at his expression and patted him on the shoulder.

  "Don't worry, I know you're better than them. Better than a lot of people I know actually. Though you are disgustingly naive."

  "Thanks?" He said with a questioning frown.

  I nodded. "No problem."

  He seemed to be taking a moment to process that, so I decided to roll up the scroll in the meanwhile and stash it in my bag. I might have had no intention of visiting the coast, but proof that I had something from one of the main houses might be useful at some point. Who knows? Would be a waste to just burn it.

  Especially since the paper was black and the ink was laced with gold. Made it look real fancy, how rich did a person need to be to send something like that so casually?

  Maybe they were trying to impress me, but riches were meh.

  I was more interested in whoever the fuck Erd was. I felt like I should've recognized that name for whatever reason, tickling the back of my mind as I futilely tried to pick out a relevant memory.

  Ah well, if my elf brain couldn't recognize it, then they probably didn't matter. Maybe a distant family member was acting as an artisan for the Vankars and impressed them enough for them to matter. Most likely scenario, also kinda lame.

  I shrugged and moved on with my day, hanging out with Argyle for a little longer before he had to make his way home to his fancy estate. I made a joke that actually got a grin out of the guard, should've probably gotten his name at some point, if only to see him as more than a grumpy bumblefuck in fancy armour.

  Got back to my room, trained some more, and actually went to sleep.

  All together a very shit time.

  But it was routine, and routine had a way of making time just...pass. Training and learning, so much godsforsaken learning. Monster encyclopedias, how to appraise a monster's worth (just because they were from the same species didn't mean they were equal! Fuck!), doing a bunch of random shit with my mana to connect to new Words.

  Which was weird, if I did something with mana then It'd figure out whichever Word matched my intention on its own. Why did I learn mend and not heal? Or regenerate? Oh shit, that would be a very valuable Word to have.

  I could already see the problem of nurturing it. I'd shelve that until I could handle enough mana to grow back a nail. Seemed like the place to start.

  Hells, apparently there was a Word for sword. Why was there a word for sword?! In what case would it be practical to specify that you wanted a sword for your spell? Unless you were a mage that specialized in empowering your weapons, then it was pretty pointless.

  I guess they could use it to grow their soul?

  Point being that Aira and Alvir were starting to get ruthless in their bestowal of knowledge. Aira because she was trying to distract me from my self-destructive tendencies, and Alvir because he seemingly thought I was warming up to him.

  I could tolerate him without wanting to rip out his eyes, I was not forming a bond with the bastard.

  Otherwise it was same old same old. Training with Xae or Adaman and blah blah blah. Rhode coming along brought some life into the guild, but it settled after the twelfth party or so. Mostly because the guildmaster gave the mage a rather thorough scolding about making the apprentices clean up the resulting mess.

  I was there for that, it was entertaining to watch the crotchety geezer talking down to a supposedly renowned mage.

  The scolding actually worked, and everything went back to normal.

  Bland and boring.

  So. Fucking. Boring.

  So I...uh...came up with a little something. Nothing dramatic of course! I just needed to make life a little less dull for the moment. So, I may or may not have pieced together where Umoa lived, and decided to pay him something of a visit.