“This is amazing!” said Vesper, ignoring Quill’s disdain.

“You say that now. You’ll see what I mean when you meet him. I’m telling you this place is the absolute worst.”

Quill flinched as his mentor walked around the corner.

“The names Fartmor, head of the Elysian library.” Fartmor was an older man, perhaps in his 60s, with grey hair and a thin frame. His robe was vibrant, multicolored, and had stitched flamingos dancing all around.

“Vesper,” Vesper said as he shook his hand.

Quill scowled but didn’t say anything.

Fartmor turned to Quill.

“Ah, good. You’re back from your little venture. How’d it go?”

“Poorly. No one wanted to fund the only library in the entire city. Can you imagine the loss of knowledge? I was only able to retrieve one-fifth of the library’s contents.”

“That’s a shame. You should’ve reached out, Quill; I’d have sent some of my scribes to help move them here.”

“And lock away any knowledge worth anything behind a paywall? Knowledge should be free.”

“But that doesn’t pay to keep the library open. I’m sure you’ve realized that after your little escapade. Idealisms and reality don’t often mingle. Sometimes that reality is selling some of the more sensitive information. Don’t worry, I’ll be sure to put all of the books you’ve brought from Lucridge under your name. Free to use as you wish.”

“Does the sales percentage still apply?”

“Yes.”

Quill huffed, folding his arms and turning away. Looking anywhere but at Fartmor.

Vesper figured selling information was ok. Putting bread on the table did make sense, and keeping a secret or two seemed like an excellent way to do it. Then Vesper thought about it more, and realized that it was unbecoming of him, a [Finder of Secrets], would feel such a way. He was, after all, tasked by the gods to uncover secrets. Then Vesper thought some more and realized if people didn’t keep secrets, he wouldn’t be able to level his class. And while Vesper was preoccupied thinking, he failed to notice Fartmor staring at him.

Vesper jolted out of his stupor when he realized he was being stared at. How long he’d been stared at, Vesper didn’t know.

“Who’re you? Are you a mover or [rider] class, by chance?” asked Fartmor.

“No, I’m a [bookworm].”

“Ah, you’re Quill’s apprentice. I’m glad he decided to take one.”

“Well, no.”

“No, what? You’re not his apprentice?”

“I tried. Trust me, he was the only option down in Lucridge, but I was turned away. He said he couldn’t afford me.”

This caused Fartmor to laugh hysterically. Vesper waited.

“He’s too good to sell information, and he couldn’t even hire a [bookworm]. If Quill doesn’t offer you a job, which I think he will, I’ll hire you. Quill is logical. He’ll come around after this stint. I’m sure of it. Make sure to ask Quill where the baths are.”

Fartmor strolled off, vanishing within his labyrinth of bookshelves and flying books.

Vesper walked outside to see Quill sorting and arranging books. Cleaning the small amount of dust that collected on their spines during the long and arduous journey. Quill didn’t look up from his work.

“Quil, we need to speak,” Vesper said.

“About what?”

“We need to talk about the bandits and that wizard. You’ve been avoiding talking to me for days now.”

Quill let out an exasperated sigh and stopped what he was doing.

“Whatever happened out there scared me. I’m afraid I’m scared that you’ll turn out like him, like a monster. It might be selfish, but I don’t want to be around someone who kills indiscriminately. I’m a [scribe], not a [warrior].”

“Look, whatever happened out there wasn’t me. I’m not going to be like him.”

“I’ve noticed you haven’t gotten rid of your grimoire.”

“I still need it to fix myself.” Vesper defensively held the grimoire to his chest.

“How do you know that whatever ritual you perform won’t change how you think? How do you know there is an actual solution to your problem? Sometimes sacrifices are permanent.”

Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on Royal Road.

Vesper scowled. This was not how he wanted this conversation to go.

“So you’re just going to throw me out, now that I helped you carry all those books over from Lucridge? I can’t really go back, can I? Heck, it probably isn’t safe for me here.”

“Look, I don’t need to hire you for you to find work. Work for Fartmor for all I care. I mean it when I say I don’t want you around, as harsh as that is. I don’t make enough as it is to hire you anyway. Plus, you won’t find what you’re looking for here.”

“What? The location of Ruins of Caldmor? So you were listening when I was pestering you with questions.”

“Yes, I don’t have that information, and Fartmor holds his most prized information like how a dragon hoards a coin. You don’t become an outstanding information broker if you give away your secrets to lowly [bookworms].”

“Then what do you propose I do?”

Quill paused.

“I don’t know. It’s your life. Figure it out yourself.”

Vesper frowned.

“How can I get rid of my stench?” Vesper asked.

Quill pointed at the bathhouse across from the library. Its location was convenient. It was almost as if Fartmor had paid for it to be that way. Vesper thought he certainly could.

While he laid in hot steaming water, Vesper reflected on what happened that day. He thought back to the guard and his strength. Vesper had an idea.

If [Farmer Warrior] Gunthrax or the [Lord Janitor] Scrubbly could pave their own path in life without relying on classes, so could Vesper. When the warm water began to turn cold, Vesper left the bathhouse with a plan. Planning while taking a bath was the optimal way to take a bath, after all.

The plan was simple enough. The first step was entering the adventurer’s guild. The capital only had one such building, which showcased just how disfavorable the association viewed the kingdom of Calfor. He’d then use his unnatural strength to worm his way in. That was as far as Vesper had gotten in thinking about his plan.

The adventurers guild was a busy building with long lines that went out into the streets. Most of the people standing in line had badges signifying they were members of the guild. It was easy to spot the battle-hardened veterans with the many scars that ran up and down their bodies and worn gear that had seen plenty of use. Vesper stood out like a frail sapling surrounded by tall, imposing oak trees.

Adventuring was a complicated profession. There was no adventurer class or a specific set of requirements that led one down that profession. Not just anyone could become an adventurer, however. [Farmers] and [Barmaids], to [Scribes] and [Bookworms] just didn’t have what it took. Everyone knew that.

Eventually, the line pulled forward, where Vesper was created by a woman behind a desk.

“How can I help you?” asked the woman, incredibly disinterested in whatever Vesper had to say. She decided filling out paperwork was a better use of her time.

“I’m here to join the adventurer’s guild,” Vesper stated.

“Class?”

“I’m a [bookworm], but-” Vesper was cut off.

“Next!” shouted the lady behind the desk.

Vesper grasped the table and leaned in.

“Give me a chance!” Vesper hissed. He clung to the table.

The lady behind the counter scowled.

“Guild procedure states we have to test everyone, but frankly, it’s a waste of time. Come back when you have a class that’s actually worth something.”

“Test me. You said that’s guild procedure.”

“Very well. You’re going to wish you hadn’t said that.” She beckoned over a gruff-looking man, possibly half-orc. His muscles bulged out of his leather armor, his tusks stuck out far enough where they could impale someone.”

“Whatcha need miss.”

“Grog, I need you to run this guy through the test.”

“Aight, Ma’am. Grogs got you covered.”

“Follow me,” boomed Grog. Vesper followed, less confident than before. Sure Vesper had strength, but not Grog-level strength. Vesper only needed one look at Grog’s muscles to know that.

Grog led Vesper to the back of the building and into an enclosed courtyard. Wooden dummies, basically less scary scarecrows, were lined up in rows on the far side of the courtyard. Runes were carved into stone walls that surrounded the courtyard. The center of the courtyard was empty, leaving plenty of room to spar.

You got this, Alry thought. She casually sat on top of one of the dummies, happily waiting for Vesper to get the shit knocked out of him. It was good entertainment.

“Stand here.” Grog pointed at the center of the courtyard. “Fight me.” The half-orc snarled.

Vesper flung his fist at Grog, putting all the power he could into his punch. Grog grimaced slightly but didn’t budge.

“Try again.”

Grog lifted his fist, slammed it into Vesper’s gut, and sent him flying across the courtyard. He tumbled to the ground before coming to a complete stop. Vesper coughed blood; two of his ribs were broken.

Embarrassing. Use your brain, Vesper. He’s the brute with all the muscle. I can’t have my mortal losing to a half-orc.

Vesper groaned, picking himself off the floor. He limped in front of Grog, who looked at him skeptically.

“Fight me,” said Grog.

Not the chest. The head was too high. Vesper decided his best bet was to go for Grog’s knee. He swiveled his foot and kicked at Grog’s foot as hard as he could.

Grog effortlessly dodged the kick, causing Vesper to stumble back onto the floor.

“Again.” Grog muttered.

Help me, Alry. Vesper hated himself for asking for her help, but he wasn’t going to hurt Grog by himself. He’d figured that much out already.

Told you you’d come around. You’re too weak not to need me.

“Shut up," Vesper mumbled.

“What’d you say?” Grog asked.

Before Vesper responded, Alry zipped towards Grog, slicing at his ankles.

Grog’s eyes bulged. He looked down to find a bug slicing at his feet. Of course, it was not a bug, but Grog’s eyesight wasn’t too good. He kicked and swatted at it. With all his limbs, he missed. His arms and legs dented the dense courtyard soil, rapidly swinging at Alry.

Unleashing his [Berserker] rage. Grog roared. His muscles bulged, nearly doubling in size; his speed increased. Bloodlust emanated off his body as his rage consumed him.

Grog was like a hurricane of pure muscle, but Alry did not stop. She danced. She rhythmically dodged the brute as if Grog’s punches and kicks were choreographed. It occurred to Vesper that she was winning.

Vesper did what any reasonably intelligent being would do and started crawling away from Grog. Grog, however, noticed Vesper fleeing and charged forward. Alry poked him in the eyes, causing Grog to stumble.

“Coward! Fight Grog fairly!” Grog shouted.

Vesper managed to open the door to the courtyard and slide inside. He quickly closed and latched the door shut. Vesper looked up. The woman behind the desk stared at him. A smug look covered her face.

“Didn’t go as planned, did it? Did Grog send you flying into the dirt one too many times?” She asked.

“Oh, shut -.”

BOOM, the building rattled. Both the woman from behind the desk and Vesper cowered. Everyone else in the building looked confused.

“What the hell did you do?!”

“What did I do? Nothing. Grogs the one doing that.”