Chapter 13: The Writing Instructor

Chapter 13

“What?!”

“It was a massive fire. Fortunately, no one was hurt or killed, but the lord was utterly ruined by it, and his family wept buckets.”

“The lord of the city where Master lived?”

“Yes.”

“…That old man is truly terrifying.”

“He’s just a complete lunatic.”

A sudden chill ran down Hay’s spine as he recalled the arsonist, who had cackled madly while burning down the mansion with a high-grade spirit.

“That old man is the real deal. A genuine madman. I wouldn’t be surprised if other countries put out a bounty to capture and kill him.”

“…”

“If you ever want to become a spirit user, you must never take that old geezer as your master. Though there’s no guarantee other elf spirit users aren’t lunatics either.”

“I don’t really want to become a spirit user that badly.”

Renki offered an awkward smile.

“Oh? Why not? Your spirit magic is quite useful.”

“I’ve told you before. I just want to be helpful to my Master.”

He lowered his head, fidgeting shyly.

‘Is he scared?’

“Why?”

“Pardon?”

“Why do you want to help me?”

“Well, you are my Master, after all. As your subordinate, it’s only natural for me to be helpful. If I master spirit magic, even if you were to use me as your hunting dog later on…”

“That’s not your job.”

Hay cut Renki off sharply, his tone frigid.

‘To hear him offer himself as a hunting dog… it’s utterly absurd.’

Renki, perhaps misunderstanding Hay’s words, looked like a dejected puppy, much like Thea when she was upset about not being played with.

Hay let out a deep sigh. He knelt on one knee, raising his gaze to meet Renki’s eyes from below.

“Renki, listen closely. You have three tasks.”

“Three tasks?”

“Yes.”

“What are they?”

Hay raised a hand, folding down one finger at a time as he spoke.

“Eat well, sleep well, and grow well.”

‘What else could a child’s job be?’

“Do you understand?”

Renki blinked, watching Hay’s folded fingers. He then fidgeted with the hand clutching his staff and chuckled, smiling like a blooming flower.

“Yes, Master.”

****

Upon arriving at the inn, Hay was about to head straight upstairs when the innkeeper stopped him.

“Excuse me, Sir Spirit User.”

“Yes?”

“I’ve looked into a writing instructor.”

Hay gestured with his chin towards Renki, who had stopped.

“It’s cold. Go on up first.”

Renki bowed politely and went upstairs. Hay approached the innkeeper, who was standing at the counter.

“What did you find?”

“The son of the general store near the main plaza knows how to read and write. I asked him, but he said his mother is ill, and he doesn’t have time to teach anyone while nursing her.”

“Ah, so there’s no one in this city who can teach writing?”

“Not exactly. The others don’t know enough to teach, so I didn’t even ask them. Instead, I went to the Merchant’s Guild and the Mercenary Guild and found two people. One strikes me as a greedy scoundrel, so I wouldn’t recommend him. The other plans to leave in two weeks. They might stay longer, but it’s uncertain.”

“A mercenary?”

“Yes. The first one I mentioned is a merchant who only knows how to count money, and the latter is a mercenary.”

‘If the innkeeper doesn’t recommend him, it’s probably better to skip him, no matter how good a teacher he might be.’

‘The latter option, a teacher who’s also a mercenary like himself, seemed promising due to their shared background.’

‘Two weeks should be enough to cover the basics.’

“I’ll go with the mercenary. Where can I meet them?”

“I figured you would, so I’ve already arranged a meeting.”

The innkeeper grinned.

“Angel’s. They said to meet them tomorrow when the noon bell rings.”

****

*Crunch, crunch*, came a chewing sound.

Hay, roused from sleep by the sound, opened his eyes, stretched languidly, and turned to his side.

Renki, apparently hungry, was munching on an apple, his cheeks puffed out.

“You look like a hamster.”

“Wha’s tha’?”

Renki asked, his mouth full.

“It’s a small, incredibly cute rodent.”

Renki swallowed the apple he was chewing, then, with a face full of questions, asked again.

“A rodent?”

“A mouse, I mean, a mouse.”

“Am I cute?”

“All children are cute.”

‘Though I detest crying ones.’

“What time is it now?”

“Before the bell. It’s probably around eleven o’clock.”

“I should get washed and go out.”

“To meet the writing instructor?”

“Yes. You come along too. We can have a meal there while we’re at it.”

“Yes. I’ll prepare your clothes for changing.”

“Oh, thanks.”

Hay rubbed his still-sleepy eyes and left the room.

After washing at the well in the inn’s backyard, he changed into the clothes Renki had prepared and left the inn.

‘Angel’s’ was already open for business from an early hour.

As he entered the establishment, the pungent smell of alcohol permeated the air. The mercenaries he had seen last night were scattered about, completely drunk.

‘Perhaps the owner hadn’t been able to close because of these ruffians.’

“Are you open?”

He asked Meggy, the attendant whom he had seen yesterday, who was busy clearing empty tables.

“Yes, we are.”

Her tone was still grumpy.

Hay chose a seat as far away from the mercenaries as possible. ‘Surely, the writing instructor isn’t one of these drunkards.’

“What will you order?”

Meggy asked.

“Do you serve meat in the morning?”

“Those pigs yesterday… No, those people ate everything, including what was meant for today. We have mushroom vegetable soup and bread, don’t we? The bread just came out of the oven, so it’s still warm. And we have eggs.”

“What about the stir-fried vegetables I had yesterday? Is that available?”

“That, we have.”

“I’ll have that, then.”

“And to drink?”

“What do you have besides milk?”

“Herbal tea. But only jasmine.”

“Give him milk, and I’ll have a cup of jasmine tea, please.”

“Very well, then.”

Meggy nodded and headed to the kitchen.

Unlike yesterday, the establishment was quiet, so she didn’t have to shout.

Hay observed the mercenaries. There were fewer people than yesterday.

‘Perhaps the missing ones are sleeping it off at the inn.’

Hay tried to gauge if the writing instructor was among the drunken men. Then, it belatedly dawned on him that he hadn’t asked for the mercenary’s name.

‘Ah, am I an idiot?’

“Why?”

“I don’t know the name of the mercenary who’s supposed to teach writing.”

“Pardon? Didn’t you ask the innkeeper?”

“I got sidetracked with other conversations and completely forgot.”

“Shall I go and ask him?”

“It’s fine. We can just ask them after we eat.”

As they spoke, their food arrived.

The two ate their meal in silence, just as they had yesterday. After finishing their food, they were taking a breather, sipping their cooled jasmine tea, when *tap, tap*, someone tapped Hay’s shoulder.

He turned around to find the mercenary he had seen yesterday.

“Hay Styles?”

A woman with fiery orange, sun-colored hair and glasses.

‘So this is the writing instructor.’

“I am Briana Lamperche of the Philsman Mercenary Group. I heard from Mr. Torres, the innkeeper, that you are looking for someone to teach writing. Is that correct?”

*Clatter—*

“Oh, I’m so sorry. Please continue your conversation.”

Renki dropped his fork.

He awkwardly picked up the fallen fork and set it aside.

Bri looked at Renki with an expressionless face before returning her gaze to Hay.

Hay stood up and extended his hand for a handshake.

“That’s correct. I asked Mr. Torres for assistance.”

She gazed at Hay’s outstretched hand for a moment before lightly taking it. Just as she was about to open her mouth to speak, other voices interjected.

“Oh? It’s Bri.”

“What? Vice-Captain? Where?”

One mercenary, who had been drooling while asleep face-down on a table, bolted upright at the sound.

“Bri! Vice-Captain! Come and eat breakfast with us!”

The bell tower chimed, announcing noon.

“Please excuse me for a moment.”

Bri withdrew her hand, turned her back to Hay, and addressed her comrades.

“It’s midday, you lot. Let’s not impose on the establishment any further. Go back and rest, all of you.”

“Oh, right. When did it get so late?”

Bri then turned back to Hay, leaving her comrades who were slowly starting to come to their senses.

“If you’ve finished your meal, shall we move to a quieter place? There’s a tea house nearby.”

“Certainly.”

Hay and Renki rose from their seats and exited. The tea house Bri mentioned was not far.

Bri entered the shop first and headed for a secluded corner. The two of them sat down.

Renki, however, remained standing behind Hay, merely surveying the tea house, looking around.

“What are you doing?”

Hay pulled on Renki’s arm. Renki flinched and looked back, turning an inquisitive expression towards Hay.

“You sit too.”

“No, Master.”

He wore a bewildered expression.

‘Is it because he shouldn’t sit without his Master’s permission?’

Hay had told him before not to worry about such things. It was probably because of Bri.

‘Some people find it uncomfortable to have a s*ave sit with them.’

“I said, sit. Ms. Lamperche, that’s alright, isn’t it?”

Hay asked casually. Bri nodded, showing no sign of discomfort.

As if to emphasize his point, Hay patted the seat next to him.

Renki glanced at Bri, then hesitantly sat down, as cautiously as if the chair might break beneath him.

“You said your name was Ms. Lamperche?”

“Yes.”

“Mr. Torres mentioned you could teach writing for about two weeks.”

“That’s correct. Our mercenary group usually takes about two weeks of rest when we stay in a city.”

“And the rest period might be longer?”

“It could be, if we don’t find a suitable next commission. Though it wouldn’t be more than twenty days at most.”

The neatly dressed tea house owner approached to take their order.

Bri, seemingly familiar with the place, ordered black tea, while Hay ordered two cups of chamomile.

“Ms. Lamperche, have you fully mastered writing?”

“Yes. Not only Materian, but I also know Runes.”

Materian was the common language spoken everywhere in this world.

However, knowing Runes was a bit unexpected. Runes were ancient magical script, typically learned by mages among humans.

“Are you a mage, perhaps?”

“No. I am a swordswoman.”

“Then how did you come to learn Runes?”

“I learned them as a pastime, for general education, when I was young.”

“General education?”

“I was a noble, you see. Though now I am merely the eldest daughter of a fallen house.”

“Ah…”

Hay nodded, understanding. Fallen nobles were quite common. George, the captain of the Cambern Mercenary Group he had worked with before, had also once been a knight. It was hardly surprising. Bri’s gaze fell upon Renki.

Hay patted Renki’s shoulder and introduced him to Bri.

“Ah, this is Renki.”

For some reason, Renki was stiff.

“A s*ave, I see.”

Bri stated plainly.

Renki kept his hands clasped between his knees, avoiding her gaze.

“Where did you purchase him?”

“Why do you ask?”

“For a s*ave, the child seems quite well-mannered.”

‘Why the sudden talk of manners? Is she being sarcastic?’

“For your information, Renki will also be learning to write.”

“Does this friend need to learn to write?”

“Is it because of his status as a s*ave? If it makes you uncomfortable, I can find someone else.”

“You’ve misunderstood me. I was merely curious. The child’s body radiates good manners. It’s a composure not typically seen in slaves his age. To possess such demeanor, he must have received an education from a young age, which led me to wonder if he might already know how to read and write.”

“Pardon?”