The rest of the day continued as usual, and the same goes for the following one.
Freya didn’t show any signs of being able to feel mana, obviously, but she still meditated for long amounts of time. I didn’t say anything to her, since she still put some effort into the book she was reading. I would only intervene if I saw her going overboard.
She should enjoy life, not become a hermit, after all.
One thing that changed was that after my fight with Larin’s party, my Level went up to 21. I was happy, of course, but being so clueless also left me frustrated — which was why I couldn’t wait to settle the business with the merchant. Once I had a routine, I could plan and divide my training and keep it up until I found a direction to move in.
That was why, Primday, when I was finally going to meet Maximus, at his company, I ended up there earlier than the agreed time.
The building was located between the lower market and the docks — people were moving about busily on the left side, where the warehouse was located. As Markus told me, I went towards the administrative offices, on the right.
Inside I found a lounge with a counter on the right side of the door. The place looked neat and well-decorated, though I couldn’t say for certain, since I didn’t have any experience with decorations.
When I told the receptionist who I was and that I had an appointment with Maximus, I thought she’d let me wait in the lounge, but she stood up instead.
“Yes, I’ve been informed. This way please,” she said, leading me through a hallway and staircase.
She then brought me inside a spacious office where a robust, bald, older man was getting up from his chair.
After he walked around the desk he had been sitting behind and greeted me while the receptionist closed the door behind me.
“Welcome Silvester, I’m Maximus. It’s a pleasure, and an honor, to finally meet you,” he said, extending his hand.
So exaggerated.
“A pleasure, I’m Silvester,” I said, shaking his hand.
He then led me to sit on a couch while he went to open a cabinet with bottles inside.
On my left, there was a wide window from which we could see the port and the river, while on my right I had a few bookshelves.
“Would you like some wine, beer, rum, whiskey? My favorite is a scotch from the Duchy; they make the best ones. I’ve had a hard time getting some from them in the last twenty years, so I doubt you’ve seen it around,” he told me looking back.
“I’ve never drank scotch, but I’ll try,” I said, curious.
“Excellent,” he said, taking out a bottle with an amber-colored liquid inside. “Some people don’t like the strong flavor. I too wasn’t a fan of them, when I had my first taste, but over time it grew on me.”
He then put down a small bowl, with some dark chocolate inside, on the low table between couches, and poured the liquor inside two glasses. A strong woody smell assaulted my nose.
“I like to take some chocolate between sips,” he said as he sat down before me.
He raised his glass, and we clinked them, before drinking. I felt a strong alcoholic flavor, and it burned down my throat. I couldn’t help but give a slight grimace.
This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.
Maximus laughed.
“Take some chocolate,” he said, pushing the bowl towards me.
“Thanks.”
“Don’t force yourself if it’s not to your liking,” said the man, as I ate a piece.
As the bitter chocolate melted in my mouth, I watched as he sipped on his glass.
“Why did you start drinking this?” I asked when he put it back on the table.
He took a moment to think.
“I wasn’t born rich,” he started, and then began a surprisingly lengthy explanation of his life.
I wasn’t sure how, or if, I should stop him.
Well, I’m the one that’s in need. I could at least listen to his story, I thought, as he went from how he started as a peddler, to how he joined a caravan, and how he ended up in this city for the first time.
He was about to continue when we heard a knock on the door.
“Yes, come in,” he said, stopping his storytelling.
As the door opened, I saw a man, around fifty years old, coming inside. He had a neat short beard and grizzled dark-brown hair.
He was dressed plainly but had a sword on his belt.
“Joshua. I thought you had lost your way,” said Maximus in a joking tone, while the man closed the door.
“My apologies, Maximus, I had the message arrived while I was instructing the men. He was supposed to come a bit later,” said the man as he looked at me.
“Oh, he arrived early and since I couldn’t wait to talk with him, I let him inside,” he said, before turning to me, “Joshua, this is Silvester, the one and only. This, Silvester, is Joshua, the head of security in my company, and one of the most talented fighters I have had the honor to know.”
I stood up as we exchanged a handshake and a greeting, while I was feeling slightly uncomfortable.
“He already reached Level 50, and he has good prospects to pass his quest in the next two years — which, at sixty, would make him one of the youngest in the kingdom to do so. Of course, while you’re not at that level yet, I’m sure your talent is not anything less.”
Did he hear about my fights in the cage? I thought while Joshua went to sit beside Maximus.
“Thanks,” I said, trying to pinpoint what was giving me these strange vibes.
I wasn’t sure if it was just because I wasn’t used to this or for some other reason, but I felt like there was a strange mood in the room.
Maximus seemed oddly happy, or maybe excited, to meet me, but since I didn’t know him I could only believe this was how he usually behaved.
Joshua, instead, seemed normal, if slightly alert, which I guessed was a job requirement.
I’m just overthinking this, I concluded. I could get nervous too sometimes, after all.
“Anyway, since we have all the people, let’s get down to business. I’m sorry if you had to listen to this old man rambling, but now it’s time we focus on you, Silvester, and the reason for which you’re here,” he said, with a bright smile.
Oh, finally we can get to the real thing. I didn’t mind listening to his story, but I was here for something more important, so I hoped that we could sort that out first.
“I heard from Markus about your situation. Quite the pickle you find yourself in, I must say, and hard to believe too, if I may add. Speaking frankly, when he asked me if I could teach a thing or two to a young man without a Class, I almost refused. Forgive me if I say this, but it sounded quite fishy. Being Classless? Unheard of.” He took a sip of his scotch.
“Or maybe not,” he continued when he put down the glass.
“As I was about to refuse, my old, creaky mind finally decided to get to work.” He leaned forward from the couch while staring intently at my face.
Something didn’t feel right.
The guard captain was still looking at me impassively.
“You know, these last few years I’ve left the traveling to my sons, but until five years ago I still visited Caldris and Seneza from time to time, for business,” continued the guy.
“So, every time I went to the Capital, how could I not pay a visit to the arena to see the great Silvester, ‘The Heathen’?” he said, with a smile. “Therefore, when I asked your name and found out you were him, I wasn’t exactly too surprised.”
I laughed.
“Oh, you liked my fights?” I asked, slightly tense.
I had been freed, so there shouldn’t be a problem, even if he recognized me. Did he know about it, though?
“But of course! Your fights were always so… breathtaking,” he told, emotionally, “But, knowing you were a gladiator, I couldn’t help but investigate before I met you. It was a bit too coincidental that you happened to be here just a few months after the attack on the Capital.”
“I’ve been freed by the First Oligarch. I’m not a slave anymore,” I said, trying to sound nonchalant.
I didn’t want to alarm them in any way. I had no chance against Joshua if things went bad.
“Oh, don’t worry, I talked with a few men who returned recently from Seneza and heard that rumor. Your release was coincidentally the day before the attack,” he told me reassuringly. “You were quite lucky… or unlucky, depending on how you see it.”
Well, I got tense for nothing.
He then took a chocolate and ate it.
“What interests me, instead,” he said, taking another sip of his drink.
“Is the bounty the church put on your head.”