Not much happened after little Jevan left the bath. He joined the lessons and the moment he sat at the desk, he looked like he was about to cry. Miss Yara wasn't only teaching them reading and writing, but also history, geography, and even mathematics.

Does this woman hold a personal grudge against ignorance?

In any case, I was enjoying the scene. Sure, the kid looked like he was in a pitiful state, but for me this was a treasure trove of information. All I knew about this world was a little about the lower district. As for the notebook the original Jevan left me, it never mentioned anything about this place's history.

And now I know: we live in the Medgar Empire, founded by Medgar the Great about three thousand years ago.

Medgar was the eldest son of the ruler of a small, forgotten kingdom. He was not the heir apparent and didn't care about the throne at all, but everything changed when he went on a hunting trip with his closest friend, Frederick Hill. History books didn't say much about Frederick, only that he was a commoner and that he died in the forest during that hunt. Historians speculate that some beast devoured him.

After that trip, Medgar changed drastically. He slowly built his power until the king died. Then a massive war broke out over the throne, and Medgar won it with the help of his loyal companion who later became his minister. He then toppled the nobles and annexed many kingdoms under him until he forged the present day Medgar Empire.

This saga would be much more exciting if you added the existence of authority powers to it, but Yara never touched on that subject. It seemed like authority powers were not a common enough topic that everyone spoke about them. How can something like this be hidden from the public? Or maybe, if I thought about it perhaps I was just the only one who kept stumbling into misfortune. If I had lived an ordinary life, maybe I would have never seen anything supernatural.

…

Everyone left the study room except little Jevan, because Yara asked him to stay so she could teach him reading and writing. Despite his tension and discomfort, he managed to memorize all the letters in just two hours.

In the Medgar Empire and neighboring kingdoms, they use the Orthane language, one of the oldest languages of the continent, which came from tribes that migrated from the east and settled here. Its alphabet has about forty letters. That kid memorized them all in two hours.

Maybe he isn't that stupid after all? Then why does he keep getting himself into so much trouble?

There was clear pride on Yara's face, her features practically saying she was looking at her genius son. She finally allowed him to leave. And the moment he stepped out of the room, he found Marco waiting for him in the same spot as if he hadn't moved for two hours. This time, little Jevan was the one who grabbed Marco's hand and pulled him along.

From a distance, Yara turned her head and noticed. A smile appeared on her lips.

***

The Broken Glass Tavern was drowning in darkness. The only light came from a candle placed on a table. The wooden tables were empty, chairs turned upside down on top of them. The moment you entered you could smell alcohol and the stench of tobacco smoke. That smell clung heavy in the air.

Behind the bar stood an old man nearing his late sixties. His hair was completely white with age, the veins on his hands bulging, and his face carried a strange mix of cruelty and kindness.

Valeric sat on the chair across from the bar. His arms rested on the table. On his face was the usual lazy expression, but in his eyes this time there was something cautious. He didn't utter a word until the old man took a glass from the shelf, poured a little alcohol into it, and pushed the cup toward him.

Valeric picked up the cup and took a small sip before saying quietly:

"Why did you ask to meet me at this hour?"

The old man was wiping another glass with a tattered gray cloth, in a motion that seemed meant more to keep his hands busy than to clean the glass itself.

"They're planning to overthrow Emmanuel's daughter and take control of the gang again."

"Who are they?"

The old man placed the cup back on the shelf without looking at him.

"Former members of the Street Sons, led by Daniel."

Valeric gave a bitter, mocking smile, then spun the cup on the table with his hand.

"I think you should worry about yourself first. I heard the Wardens gang is planning to bring you down and take all your territory."

"Collapse is inevitable. There's nothing I can do about it."

"You still consider the old man your friend after all these years?"

"And I will until I join him."

Valeric pointed his finger to the ceiling with a smirk.

"I don't think you'll join him. Maybe you'll be going upward."

The old man let out a short laugh.

"I've done enough bad things to know I'm not going up there."

He reached out, took Valeric's empty cup, and began wiping it before asking:

"What keeps you still on Emmanuel's daughter's side?"

"I don't care about the gang's politics. All I have to do is stay by its leader's side."

"The Office has been intensifying its search for you lately."

"They won't be able to find me."

"You sound confident? But in any case, that's not the only reason I called you here. Two women came asking about Emmanuel's daughter."

"Two women? Describe them."

"I couldn't see their faces. but They wore hoods that hid them, but on the hand of one of them there was a tattoo of a set of symbols."

The old man pulled out a folded paper from under the counter and placed it in front of Valeric. The latter grabbed it and examined it closely. The moment his eyes landed on the symbols, they widened. He folded the paper and tucked it into his inner pocket without saying a word.

After that, he stood from the chair and rushed outside. The wooden door rattled behind him, leaving the tavern in silence. The old man looked at his reflection in the glass in his hand and sighed.

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