It took me a lot longer to deal with the last two goblins than I would like to admit, but in the end I managed to smite the objectively not-too-powerful foes. As I stood over the green corpse of the humanoid monster, hands on my knees panting, my sword still stuck in the body of the goblin, I noticed some movement from the man I had fought with.

He walked up to the corpses of the dead goblins, and began rummaging through the crude clothes they were wearing, clicking his tongue every time and moving on to the next one. His behavior was confusing, but I thought it best to ask him later, as Sorok was still not entirely calm, the stench of blood not being something either of us was used to. I retrieved my short sword, and walked up to Sorok while making hand gestures to try and calm him down. I already knew after reading “Farrier’s Masterpiece” that warhorses had to be trained thoroughly to get used to the sounds and smells of combat, and if one took a horse like Sorok whose purpose was just for travel to a battlefield, one was liable to be thrown off and the horse running away.

While petting Sorok’s neck, my ‘comrade-in-arms’ returned from examining the goblins' bodies, giving me my first opportunity to converse with him calmly.

“What were you checking their bodies for?” I asked, not entirely aware of the purpose.

“Goblins are beasts with different desires than something like a wolf, they value shiny things almost as much as we humans do, so I was hoping that one of them would have a crown or two on them, but it seems I was their first target for the day, and that all of their riches are stashed away somewhere deeper in the forest…maybe underground” He explained, but something he said did catch my attention.

“Wait, there’s more of them?!” I exclaimed, not enthusiastic at all for another run in with them.

“Hah, yeah most likely, although they’re not anywhere close by otherwise we’d know already. Plus there’s two of us here, nothing to worry about” He reassured me, hands crossed over his chest.

I wasn’t as calm as he was anyway though, and decided to ask him what he was doing that got him caught here.

“So you were just on a leisurely walk through the forest, and got attacked by them?” I asked.

“Hah, yeah you could say that, I go to the forests between the capital and the Alcala river a few times a month to get some practical experience fighting the beasts that roam here occasionally, although this is the first time I’ve seem goblins in such a large number” He answered, acting like a child that just got caught doing something naughty.

“Were you here on a leisurely ride like I was then?” He asked, his eyes gesturing to Sorok and the sword at my waist.

“No, I picked up my first commission from the mercenary guild to find some Basalroots, but decided to call it quits after having no luck for a few hours, on my way back to the capital I heard you scream and decided to see what was going on” I shrugged, still bitter about the fact that I’d have to spend another day in the forest looking for these damned roots.

“Hey! I didn’t scream, I was just shouting to scare the stupid goblins and get some time to catch my breath!” He exclaimed unhappily, which did manage to draw a smile from me.

“Alright, alright, you didn’t scream and I didn’t hear a scream, let’s just say I was passing through here” I digressed, hoping to begin making my way back to the capital before the sun began going down.

As I was walking away with Sorok’s reins in my hand, the young man walked up behind me and put a hand on my shoulder which startled me at first, but as I turned my head I saw that he didn’t seem to have any malicious intentions and his sword was still sheathed.

“Wait, did you say you were looking for Basalroots? They don’t grow around here but I had the same commission a few years back and I still remember where I found them, it's not exactly on the road back to the capital but if we take a slight detour we should still be able to make it back in time” He proposed, trying to show me some gratitude for helping him in his tough situation.

I didn’t entirely trust the man, but considering he didn’t immediately try to kill me or steal Sorok I decided to trust in the good of the common man and take him up on his offer.

While we were making our way back to Krilos on foot, Sorok obediently following the pulling of my reins all the while, I got to talking to the man who I met during this chance encounter.

His name is Gero, and he’s slightly older than I am. He has been taught to fight by his father who’s a retired mercenary living in Krilos, and he has been wanting to follow in his fathers footsteps, but due to the fact that his Father wants an easier life for his son, he doesn’t exactly approve of him doing mercenary work anymore. Nonetheless seeing that his son still wants to fight he relented and has been teaching him some kind of exotic swordsmanship style that isn’t that common here in Jenusia.

While we were digging up the Basalroots which were apparently underground a tree that did not look too withered from afar, but on closer inspection it’s back was much thinner and drier than the bark of all the other trees I searched through during the day, Gero commented on how strange it was that I had such a short sword while riding a horse.

I didn’t exactly want to tell him the true story of how I ended up in Krilos, as I still remember the reverent way some of the shopkeepers in Krilos treated myself and my roommates when we began speaking like Nobles. I tried to sound as convincing as possible when I explained that I didn’t exactly have that much spending money, and this was the only sword I could afford on my limited budget.

In order to change the topic of conversation, I commented on how impressive his swordsmanship was, and how jealous I was that I couldn’t fight in the same way. Gero chuckled and attributed all of these impressive skills to his father, who according to him was even better than he was. He also made a comment about how I fought like a ‘tin-can’ which caught me off-guard, and Gero elaborated that it was the nickname for the garrison in Krilos due to the shiny armor. The thing that was most impressive in such a nickname is that cans and canning exist in a medieval world, but they didn’t exactly serve the same purpose that they did back on Earth.

Gero informed me that the cans weren’t uniform, and that they were mostly used by rich people to transport exotic goods for long distances, with magi providing most of the labor for their production. They were also used to store rare materials used for sorcery, as if they were just left out in the open some of them would lose their potency over time. One such material was the Basalroots which were inside the pouch Sorok was carrying. If left exposed for long periods of time to the air, they won't be as effective as they were when freshly excavated.

Gero was very thankful to me, and I was quite pleased with the fact that I established the basis for a friendly relationship with one of the ‘normal’ Krilosians, he invited me to come find him near the mercenary guild for whatever reason, and that apparently if I asked some people inside where his father ‘Gaspar’ lived, that they would point me in the right direction.

While the frequency of people with names beginning with ‘G’ was already quite noticeable, the explanation for such a phenomenon was already provided for us in one of our first lessons with Goer. It was apparently very common for people in most parts of the continent to name their children using the first letter of the parent’s name, with the father being the first letter for sons, and the mother being the first letter for daughters. So it stands to reason that this would be a cycle which would repeat itself over time, with eventually there being a lot of people using names which started with only certain letters, and others falling out of use as well.

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I parted with Gero relatively close to the mercenary guild, and the clerk was actually surprised I managed to bring back ten Basalroots within a day, and he reluctantly paid me one silver crown, and returned my deposited one as well. As I turned around to leave he suggested that the next time I came to pick up a commission I should probably ask some of the veterans for advice, although this wasn’t free and it was assumed that you’d at least buy them a drink for the information.

The guards when I was entering the noble district shot me some weird looks, due to my tunic being torn in places, but after I explained to them who I was they let me through without too much fuss. The servants at the compound however were not going to let me off that easily, the stable workers all asked me if I was okay and if I needed a herbalist to come treat my wounds, to which I reassured them by showing that I wasn’t bleeding anywhere, and the worst damage I suffered today was at most a scratch. The maids I encountered on the way to the room asked pretty much the same questions as the stable workers, but meeting Ms. Cardoza was probably the biggest delay to me getting myself washed up.

If I wasn’t already tired from the things I did today, I would have jumped from the scream Ms. Cardoza made as I turned the corner in the corridor. She immediately rushed up to me and began consoling me like I was some war veteran returning home from a campaign. I wasn’t entirely averse to the positive attention being shown by Ms. Cardoza, but her scream drew attention from other students in our school, and even Max was caught up in all of this attention. I shot him a glance to prevent him from leaking the truth about my outing today, as he knew I was going out to do a commission for the mercenary guild.

Ms. Cardoza took me to her room, which she shared with another teacher, and sat me down on her clean bed which made me slightly uncomfortable. I lied to her in my explanation, telling her that this was the result of tripping in the forest while I was out for a ride on my horse. Thankfully Ms. Cardoza believed me, and I was just happy that my short sword was confiscated for safekeeping by the compound guards, as she would have been able to catch me in my lie if she examined it.

She helped me clean my wounds a little more professionally than I did, and made me promise to her that I wouldn’t end up in such a sorry state again and to be careful when walking through the forest. Max wasn’t entirely fussed about what had transpired but managed to crack a few jokes regarding me being led by a teacher into her private room, and also how if his satchel was in a state like my tunic that he would never lend me things again. I returned him the satchel in a relatively clean state, although some of the dirt that came from the Basalroots had to be washed, and I promised him I would do so after washing my tunic.

The servant who was at the laundry provided me with a new set of clothes, and threw the torn-up old ones unceremoniously into the trash. I returned to my room after washing myself, and having some dinner, and as I was recounting the events of the day the aggressive and effective way that Gero fought kept popping up in my mind. It was only after having a real encounter with something that wanted to kill you that I realized the glaring shortcomings of Ironguard swordsmanship, and now that I knew who taught Gero how to fight like that, a desire to learn from Gaspar began to take root in my mind.

The next day was not a day off, so I returned to my usual routine of learning, exercising, and practicing Ironguard swordsmanship with Janis whenever there was a class. And after four days of this regular schedule, came another day off. I didn’t exactly want to seem eager to Gero so I decided to stay within the noble district today, and visit the library yet again. I wanted to ask Sophie if she knew what Basalroots were for, as Gero didn’t when I asked him. But it was also quite pleasant to just relax and talk to her in a place where I knew that what I said wouldn’t exactly make it around the grapevine of high school gossip.

Unfortunately, Sophie couldn’t provide me with a lot of answers regarding the roots that I dug up a few days ago, but she did say it was an alchemical ingredient. Her mentioning this familiar word which was exactly the same as the English one caused us to go on yet another tangent regarding some things which Earth and this world had in common. She said that from what she had learned in her classes, Alchemy here wasn’t the same thing as it was on Earth. In the jenusian magisterum at least, Alchemy wasn’t the study of how to create gold through other materials, but rather something akin to chemistry and chemical experiments back on Earth. She said that the thing that made it stand out to her was how similar the tools in one of the Alchemy chambers the students were allowed to visit were when compared to chemistry class back on Earth.

My joke about how it seemed the Jenusians wanted to turn Sophie into a stereotypical witch with a massive wart on her nose earned me a punch in the shoulder from her, which was actually the first time I saw her angry enough to resort to physical violence. It didn’t hurt of course, but seeing how embarrassed she was at actually punching me made me laugh even harder.

As my visits to the library became more common I learned more information about Sophie which made our admittedly weird first encounter make a lot of sense. Sophie apparently has some kind of fear of socializing, which was comparable to my original aversion to talking to people, but she genuinely fears talking to people who she doesn’t already know. She also hasn’t been able to meet with her closest friend for a long time, due to her not passing the aptitude test and living in the same compound as she was. After I found that out I promised I’d talk to her friend, and tell her that Sophie can be found buried under a mountain of books in the royal library.

That was a joke too far for Sophie however, and she angrily insisted I leave and let her read in peace, which I was very willing to do. Right as I was about to get out of sight behind one of the bookshelves, she stopped me and thanked me for offering to talk to her friend Lucy.

The next day I decided to go and pay a visit to Gero and his father, hoping to somehow weasel my way into learning this more advantageous school of swordsmanship. To my surprise Gero’s words were true, and the first person I asked at the entrance of the mercenary guild managed to give me directions regarding Gaspar’s home. Gaspar and Gero lived on the top-floor of a two storey house, with another family occupying the bottom one. A lady in her later years was a lot kinder to me after I informed her that I was an acquaintance of Gero and dropped some of her initial wariness from seeing a young man with a sword on his hip approach her house.

I walked up some stairs on the outside of the house, and knocked politely on the wooden door. As the door opened an older man with a very stern gaze greeted me, and rudely asked me.

“What the hell do you want?” He asked, quite loudly.

“I’m an acquaintance of Gero, does he live here?” I timidly answered, not entirely sure why this man was so angry.

He gave me a more detailed look, his eyes resting for a few moments on the sword which was visible under my cloak from his perspective, before he loudly shouted “BRAT! SOMEONE CAME FOR YOU!” into the depths of his apartment.

He then turned and began walking inside, but as he didn’t slam the door back in my face I assumed that this meant that he was inviting me in.

The dwellings of a commoner in Krilos were markedly worse than the ones I was used to, and as I walked in it became abundantly clear that this place lacked a woman’s touch. While this wasn’t a pig-sty like Louis could create in our shared room, the whole vibe in the room was off.

I heard one of the doors creak open, after which a shirtless Gero trotted in, unsteady on his feet. When his eyes met mine he became quite chipper, and gave me an unexpected bear hug. I could smell the alcohol from Gero all the while, and after what I reasoned was an appropriate amount of time I shrugged him off me.

“Leon it’s you! I thought you had forgotten about me after not visiting the day after we met” He said, while slapping his cheeks in an attempt to sober up.

“You said I could visit you on any day, unfortunately I was quite busy the last few days and only found the time today” I responded, smiling all the while.

At this moment the man, who I assumed was his father, decided to butt into the conversation while sitting at the table near the fireplace.

“You made a rich friend Gero?” He asked, it seems he was quite suspicious about my background.

“No, no, Leon’s not rich dad, he’s the guy who saved me when I was in trouble a few days ago” Gero answered, while at the same time throwing a hand around my shoulders.

“You’re telling me this noble child with that piece-of-shit sword helped you?” He continued, unconvinced that I was capable of doing so.

“Alright, alright, if you don’t believe me then don’t believe me. Wait a while, let me get washed up and then we can go” Gero gave up, grabbed the empty bucket and headed outside to the well in the backyard.

This left me in a very awkward situation, as it was clear to me that this man didn’t appreciate my presence, but due to my personal goals regarding swordsmanship I decided to persevere and make a good impression on his father.

“I’m sorry for the bother sir, but Gero was a great help to me in completing a commission, and after he told me that you his father were the one who taught him how to fight I just had to pay a visit to satisfy my own curiosity” I said politely, hoping to explain my motives behind coming to his home.

“Oh? And what exactly has that idiot told you?” He asked, it seems insulting his son was the only way he knew how to show affection.

“Well he told me that you were proficient in a school of swordsmanship that isn’t too popular in Jenusia, and that your name is Gaspar…” I responded, trailing off near the end due to not knowing much more than that.

“I am indeed Gaspar but what makes you think that I would be willing to teach a noble brat how to fight?” He asked insultingly, not enthused at the prospect.

“Uhh.. I am not a noble, sir” I responded, but the way in which my words came off I don’t think they were very convincing.

In response to that Gaspar stood up and walked up to me, invading my personal space quite brazenly. I backed off as much as I could but eventually my back pushed up against the walls of his apartment, and Gaspar approached so close that his blue-eyes seemed that they would jump out and bite me.

I didn’t exactly know what the purpose of this situation was, but I didn’t feel too threatened by this man’s actions, and although he was slightly taller than I was, I tried to keep calm while showing him that I had nothing to hide.

The stand-off didn’t last too long, and eventually he retreated and chuckled.

“It seems you were telling the truth, and why exactly do you want to learn Sylrift swordsmanship from a swordmaster?” Gaspar asked, his tone a little more endearing than before.