Even the two wolves’ tasks required a silver rank badge. Vesper thought about his two options. One required that he spend countless hours doing menial work to raise his status to that of a silver rank adventurer, and then who knows how long to reach gold. That wouldn’t do, especially if Vesper needed to be tested again.

The other option might take some work, but Vesper thought he might be able to convince a group to take him Wyvern hunting. It would be a tough sell, but it was possible. Or at least that’s what Vesper thought. People often thought many things were possible that weren’t, like creating gold from alchemy or tricking a demon.

There were no demons to hire into service, nor did any of the random adventurers that Vesper walked by seem to want to join Vesper. They gave looks at Vesper as if getting eaten by a Wyvern wasn’t worth a hundred or gold, or even fifteen gold. Gold was gold, but it was harder to spend inside the belly of an Ice Wyvern, let alone a Grand Ice Wyvern.

With no luck, Vesper decided to head back to Elysian Library. He pocketed his adventurer badge as he stepped through the library’s doors. For now, he’d work for Fartmor.

“Fartmor, I was wondering if I could still take you up on your job offer,” Vesper asked.

“Did Quill not offer you a job? That does surprise me. No matter, I don’t fall back on my promises. It’s bad for business when people don’t trust an information broker.”

Fartmor walked over to a bookshelf and plucked three books off his shelf.

“I need you to catalog the contents of these books and make a note of any meaningful information or rumors on city exits. If someone even mentions a passage, I want to know about it.”

“Why?” Vesper asked.

“That’s none of your business. Just stick to doing what I tell you to do, and we’ll get along well enough.”

“Alright,” Vesper said. He peered at the tower of books Fartmor had provided.

History of the Great City, Architecture and Infrastructure, The capital’s sewers.

Vesper gulped. He suspected that it was going to be a long dry, dull day. Vesper flipped open to the first page and began consuming the words. Even after casting [Increase Reading Speed], the books felt slow and hard to get through.

It didn’t help that Vesper was distracted. Alry sat unconscious inside Vesper’s pocket, not moving an inch. It was one thing not wanting her around; it was another thing entirely to kill her. She claimed to be immortal, but Vesper wasn’t so sure. It was common knowledge that you had to move around to be alive, and Alry was not moving around.

Vesper also wondered why he had to find exits from the capital. He’d already found two fleeting mentions of secret underground tunnels, but there wasn’t any context to where they might be or why Fartmor wanted the information. Work was work, though, and Vesper didn’t question his boss. The silver, at the end of the day, was worth his discretion for now.

As Vesper kept reading, he started thinking about who might be capable enough to take him on a journey. If Vesper had his way, he’d somehow convince that [Paladin] to come along with him, but he knew better than to ask someone already in the academy. They’d take all the credit for the kill anyway.

Vesper thought some more and realized Grog could be tricked into going. He wasn’t too bright, but he was strong. But Grog alone wouldn’t be enough, even with Vesper acting as Grog’s brain. If it took the sort of caliber of adventurer that Siora alluded to enter the academy, then he’d need to form a team.

Vesper counted the people he knew on his hands. Grunkor was an [innkeeper], Quill a [scribe], none of the orphans Vesper knew were likely to get a combat class. Then Vesper thought some more and realized he did know at least one person who’d be adequate. Not perfect by any means, but beggars couldn’t be choosers. Olbin was unmotivated, his farm was in disrepair, but he had the skill set Vesper was looking for.

He knew that Olbin wouldn’t get any experience from killing a Wyvern, nor would Vesper. But he knew that gold could purchase better farmland or farming equipment. Vesper supposed he could send a letter.

After thinking, Vesper realized he hadn’t made much progress reading. He looked down at History of a Great City, and saw that three-fourths of the book remained. Over that period, he’d only found three instances that talked about exits, and he didn’t even know if one of them counted. Flinging yourself out of the city via catapult just didn’t seem like a great idea.

Was this work worth a whole silver? Vesper didn’t think so. Well, it was time to turn in what he found and collect an entire silver. He located Fartmor after searching the maze of bookshelves and dodging books that whizzed off the shelves.

“Fartmor, I finished the task for the day. I was only able to find three mentions of exits.” Vesper proceeded to hand Fartmor his list.

Fartmor’s brow furrowed. Then he smiled.

“You’re slower than what I expected from a student of Quill, but I guess he didn’t invest enough time into helping you flourish. You’ll grow faster with time.”

Fartmore handed Vesper a silver as if it was worthless, like a clod of dirt or perhaps a rusty nail.

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.

“Make sure to come in and complete your work before Noon, starting tomorrow. I like the library being empty for guests in the afternoon. Anytime after will be yours to do as you please. I suggest investing it into your growth as a [Bookworm], but who am I to tell you what to do with your time.”

“Thank you, Fartmor.”

“Ah, you’re so polite! I think we’ll get along splendidly.” Fartmor waved Vesper away and began hunting the shelves for whatever he was looking for.”

Vesper felt good. Now, that was how you treated your employees. It was unlike anything he’d ever experienced before. Lothar and Olbin had treated him like a commodity, and Quill, well, Quill didn’t even give him the time of day. How had he thought that being anything other than a [Bookworm] was great? If only…

If only Vesper felt whole. Moments like these pushed away the gnawing emptiness away from his thoughts. It made him forget for a second that something had been taken away from him. Vesper peered at the unconscious tiny Fae at his side. She was the cause of his problems, but she wasn’t evil.

Maybe a little cruel or maybe a bit too carefree of death, but she loved nature and was curious. That counted for something. Vesper hoped it counted for something.

He peered down at the small silver coin in his hand. In his mind, he’d always thought silver would be bigger or shinier. He wiped away some of the tarnish on the coin, rubbing it. If he summed up all the money he’d made under Olbin, it would equal one of these. One and a half if you wanted to be accurate.

Vesper found an Inn without the charm of the Slum Pickens Inn. But it was luxurious, without the worn walls or dusty rooms or barren tables. It wasn’t as personable. They’d take the coins, but there wasn’t any small talk to be had with the innkeeper. No, gossip over tasty cockroaches in the cellar. It was best this way, Vesper thought. He’d be noticed less.

He slept well that night, better than he’d slept since leaving the orphanage. He wasn’t exhausted from physical labor, nor did he have to worry about bugs climbing in bed with him. Vesper got up and washed up, and hurried to the Elysium Library.

The library was different. No, flying books still whizzed through the bookportation portal, rows of books still lined the bookshelves. It was the dozen [Bookworms] and [Scribes] crowding the tables that surprised Vesper. Even Quill was there, albeit sitting by himself at a table far from Fartmor’s other workers.

Vesper sat himself at a table across from a [Bookworm], or at least Vesper thought she was a [Bookworm] with how slowly she turned the pages. He didn’t dare speak. Only the constant flipping of pages broke the monotony of Vesper’s work. This time he focused on his reading, reading about exits. Exits and capital architecture weren’t riveting, and Vesper had to go slowly to figure out some of the more complex words.

Occasionally Vesper would whisper the words he didn’t quite know. The [Bookworm] sitting in front of him scowled whenever Vesper did this. She was too polite to ever bring it up, and Vesper was too rude to stop doing it.

Noon came faster than Vesper thought, but he had made good progress. He’d finished the first book and found seven accounts of exits within the capital. Again, Vesper didn’t have any idea why anyone would need this information. Well, he had a few guesses, but nothing concrete.

Fartmor revealed himself.

“Work is over. Enjoy the rest of your day!” Fartmor went around plucking up sheets of written notes, putting silver pieces in their place. The highest he’d seen someone receive was 15 silver. Quill was given six for his work.

Vesper happily pocketed his one silver, although it didn’t feel quite the same after seeing what everyone else received. He was still happy, though. It was still a lot of money, and the work was easy. Only Quill seemed off or resentful towards Fartmor. Vesper didn’t understand why. He treated all of his workers very well.

Not wanting to waste his time, Vesper headed to the messenger guild. It wasn’t terribly hard to find since it was the only building where [couriers] scrambled in and out. It was sort of like how rats in Grunkor’s Inn scurried in and out from underneath Vesper’s bed frame. They were much more pleasant than the bugs, so Vesper didn’t mind it all that much.

So Vesper scurried into the messenger’s guild and pivoted the front desk. There was no line, no waiting like Vesper had at the Adventurer’s Guild. He didn’t know if it was because of the time of day or if sending letters wasn’t very popular. Vesper guessed the latter. You needed to read to send or receive letters.

“How can I help you, sir? Are you looking to send a letter, local or to another Kingdom? I’m afraid that we don’t send letters to Sarrin or either of the Great Tribes anymore. Too much bad blood between King Renault and the Elves and the tribes are too hard to locate.”

“Local. How quickly can you get word to Lucridge?”

“In an hour, if you have five gold. Ten copper is the going rate for a standard [courier]. Possibly two-day shipping if you’re lucky.

“I’ll go with the ten copper. Does anyone ever take you up on the five gold delivery?”

“Not in this district, but sometimes Nobles will purchase that package. Not many of them hang out in this district. For one extra copper, I can write out what you want me to tell the recipient.”

“No, I can write it myself. I need two letters.”

“And the recipients?”

“Grunkor at the Slim Pickens Inn and Olbin at the rundown farm on the north side.”

“The rundown farm on the northside? That’s not much to go off of. You’re going to have to give me more than that if you want the [courier] to find the place. Even if they got the [location] skill, it’d be a miracle for them to find the place.”

“It’s the only rundown farm on the northside. Do you think I know what street it’s on? Well, I do. But not the name of the street.”

“Well, I’ll write down ‘the decrepit farm on the northside,’ but I can’t guarantee it’ll find its way to the intended recipient.”

“Well, that’s alright. What I’m asking is a long shot anyway.”

And what Vesper was asking for was a long shot. Olbin would have to fight a Wyvern, Grunkor would have to come with a group who would have to fight a Wyvern. Almost as bad, really. Grunkor wouldn’t have to fight, but Vesper hoped he’d help with setting up camp. That’s what [Innkeepers] did. Or, at the very least, that’s what Vesper thought Innkeepers did.

The man behind the counter rang a bell, and a lanky man came running from the back. He didn’t stop running, jogging in place. Vesper wondered if the man jogging in place needed to use the restroom. That’s the only time Vesper had ever jogged in place.

“This is your client. You’ll take one of his letters to the Slum Pickens Inn and the other to Olbin, who lives in the only rundown farm on the northside.”

“I don’t suppose you know the name of the only rundown farm on the north side is?” asked the runner.

“Why would I know that!?” Vesper asked defensively.

The runner scowled. He was still running in place. It was odd.

“Why’re you running in place?” Vesper asked.

“I level by running. Got to keep on grinding if I’m ever gonna reach an advanced class.”

“Doesn’t that get tiring? Like, do you ever stop for a break?”

“It does, and I do sometimes slow the pace, but stopping entirely? That’ll only happen when I die. I’ll look for this farm, but don’t expect me to give it to the right person. You didn’t give me enough to go off of.”

“Ok,” responded Vesper.

The [courier] did what couriers do. He disappeared from Vesper’s sight as he ran out the door.