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“So, according to what you’ve found, Rathe defeated a king?”

“Yes... and no.” Vloz shook his head and sighed, “Has Rhyner mentioned him?”

“Him? As in who? Should I know?”

“I hope you’re hungry!”

Ania and Puula arrived at the table with food in tow. Carrying two large platters, Ania quickly sat on Jarrit’s side of the table, leaving Puula to join Vloz. Puula also carried two platters with the help of her tails. Both women set the food down and were amazed to see the men continuing to stare at each other in silence as their conversation was paused.

It was only after one of the platters reached the corner of Jarrit’s gaze that he wavered for a moment. “This... Jrabda roast?”

.....

“Oh, so you’re a man of culture?” Ania joked.

Nodding and blinking, Jarrit took a moment to look over the entire meal. His curiosity was evident to everyone at the table as he opened his mouth but said nothing.

“You’re Jarrit Styxx, the Spatial Slasher, aren’t you?”

“Ha. Ha, ha, ha... It’s been ages since someone’s used that old name.” Feeling both intrigued and at a loss for words, Jarrit looked back to Ania’s friendly stare. “Might I ask how you know that? Also, please don’t refer to me as such, not anymore.”

“Ania, we’re still explaining–”

Cutting off Vloz, Ania kept pushing for the change of subject. “I may have traveled a lot growing up, but Bore City was the closest thing I had to a home. While my dad worked in bars and restaurants I got to hear all about your old escapades. Spatial Slasher, Imminent Death, Vorpal Mage... I’ve heard them all. But you always made sure to keep your face clear of publicity, so this is the first time I can put a face to the many names.”

“I see... Then...” Just as Jarrrit was about to ask a follow-up question, his expression changed. His face tightened slightly as he realized something as if he had missed a rare opportunity. “You’re Bradok’s daughter?”

“Guilty.”

“And Rathe is the idiot son from all of his stories?”

“Even more guilty,” chuckled Ania.

“That’s how...”

“Hire my dad enough and he’ll eventually spill the beans, at least to his kids. You know he’s terrible at keeping his mouth shut after a few drinks among friends,” Ania added, shaking her head as she remembered her father’s old antics.

Vloz, showing startlement, blinked. “You’re the Vorpal Mage?”

“I was the Vorpal Mage. Now, I’m Jarrit, Dean of Trighton Institute,” corrected Jarrit. “But if that’s who you are, then Oli–”

“That’s what I need to talk to you about. I need you to take me to Bore City to visit Oli and bring back my dad.”

“What about Rathe’s battle? Don’t forget to mention why you need Bradok in the first place.”

Everyone around the table paused. They glanced at one of the open seats at the round table, one of those between Puula and Ania. Jarrit was particularly astounded and stared intensely at the hooded figure he had failed to sense.

“Don’t worry. Rhyner was also scared when I first appeared,” jested the man, retrieving a plate from his ring and taking the first slice of roast.

“Rhyner too...” Slinking back, Jarrit’s gaze shifted from being cautious to on-guard.

“Jarrit, meet him,” Vloz introduced, trying to ease the tension.

“Wait, who is he? And what–”

“First, fill your plate. We can’t waste the delicacies the ladies have prepared for us.” Loading his plate with sides of sauteed peppers and potatoes, the man took out an unfamiliar cask of wine with silver and black labeling. “I’m not going to hurt you. If I wanted to do that, you would’ve died long before I revealed myself.”

“... Alright.”

Seeing Vloz and the others following along, Jarrit did as well. Everyone gathered their first share of the meal and ate along with the man, completely silent.

It was also the first time that Vloz had seen the mysterious man smile so warmly and candidly. A part of him couldn’t believe that such an expression was possible for the figure. The man’s eagerness was evident by his greedy fingers speedily snatching a second helping.

“Ahhh... I’ve always wanted to try your food, Ania. Though Puula was a part of it as well, this is still far better than anything I had expected. Dioro was right to choose you.”

“...” Unsure how to respond due to her mixed feelings, Ania kept to herself for a moment. “Are you going to explain what happened and what happens next?”

“Sure.” Taking a moment to down some wine and clear his throat, the man sighed in satisfaction. “I helped Rathe survive his match with the king, making sure that he didn’t kill himself in the process. And now, Iron Territory needs Bradok to increase its influence as a territory while Rathe is recovering.”

“How strong are you?”

Looking back to Jarrit, the man’s smile lightened up. “Strong enough to kill you before you can blink away in fear. Is that what you’re worried about?”

“But how strong exactly?”

“Ahh, now that’s a different question. A question not worth answering at this point in time.” Taking another swig, the man emptied his glass and promptly gave himself a refill. “I could do the same to Rhyner, who’s even more threatening than you in most cases. Is that enough clarity?”

Displeased, Jarrit shook his head ever so slightly.

“Hmm... How should I put it? ...” sighing, the man chuckled with amusement at the spatial mage’s uncharacteristically cold stare. “No matter what you attempt or who you contact, my goals can’t be stopped. Either you work with me, or deal with something worse than me. And your friends, Rhyner and Zelsh, have decided to work with me.”