After the formalities were over, Silas gained the rundown of how to take quests and the payment as well as the rates that went to the guild. Most adventurers wouldn’t need as detailed information that he received, but he proved himself to be literate and capable of basic merchanting skills - equating to his mathematics.

He learnt that depending on an adventurer's rank, one would abstain from penalties, such that the rates the guild takes per commission would be lower and the treatment one would receive would be greater. As well as the discounts they receive from guild food and lodging, making it more viable for an adventurer to travel around.

But of course there was no such thing as a free meal in this world, with these bonuses there were often conditions placed as well. One of such being a mandatory emergency quest that one would need to take part in, at least once a month. Rewards would still be handed out with the prior treatment but these quests were often to do with subjugating demonic beasts, and at this time there were many cases where one was forced to take part in skirmishes against the demon invasion making them very dangerous tasks that few were willing to engage in.

After gathering this information, Silas walked over to the quest board to the side of the room, next to the staircase that led to the lodging area. It was there that he would examine all the many tasks to be carried out, expressed by sheets of paper that were pinned on either of 2 boards. One labeled mercenary work, and the other adventurer.

While most bands of mercenaries and adventurers alike could not read or write, they would have to take the sheets of paper that detailed the work after witnessing the appropriate stamp colour, depicting the rank assigned to it, giving it to a receptionist to read for them. And for those that were too dumb to differentiate ranks… well that was why they worked in teams, and the more educated among them was generally tasked as being the leader to decide such things.

Silas glanced over the text on each paper. While he was too drunk to notice yesterday, the language on the paper was not one from Earth. But as Leoghan had been a noble that had access to areas restricted to peasants, he had the capability to grow up on books in libraries that only nobles were allowed to keep; the only public known library was the one at the academy, and even that was restricted to students.

While most noble children were taught by educated instructors, some by their parents. Leoghan was a special case that self-studied. Having been ostracized all his life, he didn’t have tutors to teach him to read, or to wield weapons or even to strengthen himself with mana - all things being common for nobles to learn. Instead he took comfort in books.

The first he read encompassed fairy tales that enthralled him in the fantasy of other worlds. Eventually he read those that spanned theory studies, about bestiaries, magical studies, appliance of mana and the practical application of mana rings, most of which he learnt about at the academy's library, as his parents were not very well stocked. No, his parents were not fond of literature to begin with, they were a family that took only to the blade, like their ancestors before them.

As he was exposed to the world of literature, he figured perhaps he could pave his path through knowledge rather than strength. But it was not to be.

Silas took a pin out from a paper, and carried it to the receptionist. He merely had to show them the request and was provided beneficial information like where to acquire what he was tasked to find. Alas he already knew of such information. His wealth of knowledge varied across many fields because of the studies he had read, coupled with the theory classes he majored as his electives. Even so, his knowledge did not supersede the novice stages of most categories.

He took a gathering mission, one of Steel rank, which would have been a meager Iron rank, had it not been located in a safe, but uncertain area, one that lacked visibility. He was to locate an item called Finger Root, which was commonly used in basic alchemy to create invigoration potions, and only grown under the shade of a mass of trees.

“Come back safe y'hear? Would be the laughingstock of the guild if you fail your first mission, one as simple as this”

That was the last the squad heard from the receptionist, as Silas led them out of the guild and eventually past the guards at the gate. No inspection or formality was required as the squad walked past, their numbers were sufficient and since none of them were dressed in noble or school attire, there was no significance placed upon them.

…

The city lay on a cliffside, off the cliff lay a dry arid plain, with few hills to obstruct the vertical landscape other than some mountains in the distance, though the one that the city was built on stood out from the rest.

The group had gone the opposite direction, following a dirt track that led down the cliffside, past a path that led further down to the arid wasteland. As they tracked further still, an abundance of tree tops fringed their vision, the dirt path continued downward into a clearing amongst them. Even at a distance Silas noted the markings on the road, wheel dents that indicated the place had been frequently tracked by wagons, the markings leading from the clearing and further into the forest.

As they first entered, the trees were sparse, the rays of sunlight easily beaming through the treetops to tickle at their skin, providing them a healthy dose of melanin. But as they ambled onwards the canopy drew denser, the foliage obstructing them from light. The forest dimmed, but the way was clear and the group unobstructed. Chirping of birds became louder amongst the trees, the grass adorned in the buzzing of insects.

But the group was surprisingly silent, being a foreign area for many of them. All but Silas lay in suspense of the dangers ahead. This was territory close to the city. The place was safe if only a little unsettling. But unsuspecting dangers could appear anytime even still, as unlikely as that may be. Though it’d be more likely if they moved off the beaten track.

Silas stopped to look back at the group following him, they were equipped with the weapons he had bought previously. One of their discussions the night before were of their respective roles and weapon familiarities. While not all had the gear suited for them, Silas never intended to spec them appropriately in the first place, they could use their own money for that. They only held such equipment since it was easier to carry than in the previous bag, and for the sake of appearances.

Ferlein held a shield, and a dagger, while Galgael held the other dagger. Dromund had a sword sheathed on a belt to his waist and Thaite had both bow and quiver adorned on his back. Silas was the only one empty handed, which suited him just fine as he hadn’t any formal weapon training in the past anyway. Among them, it seemed only Thaite was content with this distribution.

“Over here”, Silas murmured, finally deciding to walk off from the trail and into the bush. He stood by the bush signaling for Ferlein to take the lead. Now that there was a chance of danger, naturally the one with the shield should lead.

Ferlein brushed past him, blocking some branches with her shield as she passed. He immediately started following her, and the rest fell in line behind him.

“You wanna take me from behind again?”, Ferlein joked as her tail brushed by Silas’s leg. This was the first attempt at conversation since entering the woodland.

Silas didn’t even attempt to respond, distracted by thoughts of how to test his powers. The place didn’t matter, though it was preferable if it were in an open space and out of the way.

“I don’t get it”, Thaite suddenly spoke up. “Fer, weren’t you just pissing yourself in front of him yesterday, now you’re flirting with him?”.

Galgael tapped Thaite on the back whispering in his gruff voice, “tis the whims of women, I’ll never understand em”.

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“Neither”, he replied whispering, “but usually there’s a tell before this stage”.

Ferleins ears twitched, listening in despite the small distance between them. Her ears were more sensitive than an ordinary humans.

“We slept together”, she responded straightforwardly. “Nothin’ short of what you and miss receptionist got up to last night”

The dwarf whistled, but Thaite was exasperated, “but why him?”.

“Here will do”, the man of the hour spoke up interrupting them. Having already moved past many trees and some distance from the road, they settled in a more open area. The canopy above them, a little less dense.

“But this glade isn’t where we’d best find Finger Root?”, the elf questioned, clearly confused.

‘He really does only speak in matters that concern him. He’s much more observant than the others’

Silas kept his silence, a typical maneuver of his at this point. He took out the potions he had carried on his person, placing them on the grass.

“You’re not going to get anything out of him, you know how he treated you last night”, Thaite continued, not bothering to lower his voice.

Ferlein shrugged, having walked over to lean on a tree vacant from others.

“It just kind of happened. Besides we’re a pack now Thaite, all of us. Because of him”

“That doesn’t mean you should be sleeping with him”

“And it isn’t, you’re making it too big of a deal. What’s it matter to you?”

“Everyone be silent and gather”, Silas commanded, still squatting, sorting out his potions in the middle of everyone. He separated the medium potions recalling which shops he got them from and placed the lower tier ones altogether.

As Thaite’s feet auto traveled him, he glanced at Fer once more to examine her carefree attitude before rolling his eyes and directing them on Silas. He wasn’t normally one to meddle in the affairs of others, much less someone he had only met the day before, but Silas didn’t give him good vibes. Had the elf not intervened he may have decided to risk it on his own despite Silas’s speech yesterday.

The foursome stood before Silas, and he took his time to stand up.

“Now be patient. I’ll be running a few tests so just…”, he then commanded, “stay still”.

With everyone immobilized, he spread out his hand and closed his eyes, once more trying to remember the feeling of when he summoned his blade. But of course, like every other time nothing happened.

‘Fuck, I’m going to be here a while’, he sighed. He spent another 10 minutes, deciding best to sit down and meditate, though the thoughts in his head had nothing to do with the term serenity. Instead he recollected on past memories, focusing on people he detested and events that vexed him, unconsciously avoiding some of the more traumatic experiences in favor of reminders of the hate that served to fuel him. And while most of it was Leo…

‘I really loathe my sister huh? How twisted could I have been? Yet I can’t just forgive her, no. I feel such a disdain that she’s amongst those that actually wronged me’

Silas shook his head, getting up from his position much to the excitement of the others. They had to stand in silence for this time making for a boring, mind numbing experience. He turned his head to the elf, but found his eyes were closed. Maybe he was the exception, since he preferred to spend time alone anyway…

‘Or maybe not considering he followed Thaite to watch him in action… with my weapons’

Silas walked up to Dromund, alerting his presence with a crunch, as he stepped on a leaf before him.

‘I need a push’, Silas cocked his head to the side, waiting as Dromunds' eyes opened.

He gazed up a little bit to meet the young man's eyes. But when he did, beads of sweat dribbled down his neck, his eyes seemingly immediately widening in shock thereafter.

“You, drop your sword and… Punch me”, Silas suddenly commanded, much to the confusement of everyone. But no one was more confused than Dromund himself, as his sword left his grip, settling in the grass, and he sent a left hand flying at Silas’s face.

Pow.

The blow landed with a moderate amount of force, straight to his cheek. But it could handle more than that.

“Harder”, he commanded.

Bam.

Dromund had no choice but to punch his master on the nose with a strong force, knocking his head back. But his head slowly lowered back into position, his face glaring into his own as he made another command.

“Faster”

Boof.

He was hit to the side of the forehead, hurting Dromunds fist in response. He shook it from the recoil and in doing so, realized he could move. But that didn’t stop Silas, as he pestered on.

“Stronger”

Wack.

“More”

Sack.

“Again”

Crunch.

“Further!”

Blam!

“REPEAT”

KerBam!

“Fuck you, I said HIT ME!”, he spat with blood emerging flowing from his mouth.

Splat!

Thaite turned his attention away from the horrifying display of self destructiveness. Perhaps their master had a kink for this kind of thing but he was no less disgusted by the act. Instead he turned his attention to Ferlein, trying to get her attention with his eyes as if to say ‘do you see my point?’, but she was too busy watching the show. A feast of masculinity that she took great pleasure in indulging in. He could only roll his eyes in response, reminding himself of her battle brained behavior.

Spat!

Plat!

Spam!

Silas tried to get his emotions to boil, imagining the face of Leo upon feeling every impact to his face. His vision blurred and after a few more hits he could see it. The face of his assailant had blended in with the one he abhorred.

“That’s the way you fucker!”

Silas interrupted his attempt to punch him, retaliating with his own fist of justice. It landed cleanly on Dromunds face, making him recoil twisting his body around as he clutched at his face.

“You’re not afraid of me are you? You were NEVER afraid before!”

But alas he was not given time to recover from the pain, his own fists already bleeding. But he had heard the order once again, so he was forced to stare into the fiery gaze of his own abuser, flicking his wrist, yet almost cried. As he once again landed a punch using all the Bronze ranked strength he had, on Silas's battered Light Bronze ranked face.

The blow was to the jaw, and sent Silas flying a little bit, though in reality it made him recoil a few steps back.

Dromund wanted to hiss from the pain of hitting his jaw, but he nary the time, as Silas shot back punching him to the ground. And it didn’t stop once. So Dromund stopped trying, huddling into a ball as he groveled on the ground, Silas having lost all composure long ago as he started screaming all kinds of absurdities. But the collective effort of his punches combined spoke louder than his words.

“Stop being a WIMP you little PUSSY SHIT, that’s not how a TOY should BEHAVE! FIGHT BACK, SHOW ME SOME COURAGE. GODDAMNIT, STOP. BEING. BORING”

But his incessant howling did not invoke the channeling of his command. What it did invoke was more blood rushing from his mouth, which finally performed another miracle.

That miracle came from the light in his hand that turned into a blade, as it was carried along in his grip when he came swinging down once again and stabbed into Dromunds defensively placed arms, shielding his vital spots from danger.

And protect it, it did, as the blade went in and out a few times of his arm. He wished to scream in pain, but a cat caught his tongue, so instead tears finally emerged from his eyes as the unbearable pain combined with his mental state from not being able to express his feelings aloud overwhelmed him.

Silas stabbed down once more, and Dromund couldn’t help but look at the sword next to him. He didn’t have time to think as he feared for his life, so he grabbed the sword as he rolled away, dodging the attack. He tried to tumble onto his feet, but he stumbled from his wounded arm, as it failed to brace on the ground. Silas wrathfully followed his movement, lifting his arm instinctively as the blood pool that leaked from the elfs arm started floating around him.

He knew of this magic attack, having bore witness to the powers his master displayed the night before. It was not something Dromund thought he could endure, so he brought up the weapon with both of his hands, steeling his resolve as he intended to end it all. But his commitment was halted as he realized a force stopped him from sending it down.

The blood magic formed, spirals appearing around him, and since the magic hovered at such close range, it was something he could not avoid. Thinking fast on his feet as he stared deep into Silas’s merciless frenzied eyes, he dropped his only weapon, his hope for salvation. He then collapsed on his knees, pointing at himself and Silas and shaking his head. Whatever he wanted to convey was quite illusive, only making Silas tilt his head in confusion.

But that served enough time to calm his wraith for a moment, and he had soon realized his surroundings. He had small blood spears formed by the sides of him, ready to kill on the wave of his arm.

‘Oh’, he thought, coming back to his senses.

‘It appears it worked. But how?’

But that question was why he was here today. He was going to do whatever it took to find out.