A metal cup sat on the broad, sturdy tabletop. Its surface was plain and rough, but it was solid enough and held plenty. The sweet egg wine inside gleamed clear in the sunlight.
Sweet egg wine was not only cheap but also immensely popular. On the Northern Continent, especially near the Morsa Borderlands, its warming properties made it almost indispensable for anyone heading outdoors.
Holruf was no exception.
Even after retiring, he still enjoyed a cup in the afternoon.
Today, however, was an exception.
Holding his cup, Holruf stared blankly into space, his gaze unfocused as he sank into thought.
Seeing his boss like this, the attendant beside him quietly withdrew at once.
Over the past several days, the staff had grown accustomed to their boss's occasional bouts of staring into space.
At first, some had asked about it, but Holruf always refused to speak. If pressed, he would snap at them, and the staff soon learned what to do.
The door closed without a sound.
Several more minutes passed before Holruf finally heaved a sigh.
The Snake School?
Was there really a Snake School?
The retired Demon Hunter scratched the few hairs remaining on his head, his face full of doubt.
Once again, he recalled the man who had introduced himself two days earlier as "Colin of the Snake School."
At first, he had not believed the man's words.
Though the man had demonstrated considerable strength and behaved very much like a Demon Hunter, Holruf had never even heard of this Snake School he mentioned.
He had therefore assumed the man was making it all up.
Had the man explained himself then, Holruf would stubbornly have insisted that he was a fraud.
But the man had offered no explanation.
He had not even tried to defend himself.
He had