Running through thickets, leaping over ditches, sliding down rocky slopes sharp as blades, scrambling up landslides of loose earth, and sprinting along icy streams—these were the escape routes of an assassin.
But it wasn't just the terrain that posed a threat. Rebo had to dodge arrows flying at him from all directions. For an assassin, arrows were the most common and dreaded obstacle. Although the arrows used in training were blunt-tipped, the pain they inflicted was very real.
Time spent with Kayler was always fraught with tension and a constant sense of danger. Even sleep offered no reprieve. Though Rebo hadn't yet mastered sleeping while standing like a horse, he had grown accustomed to curling up in a corner each night. At first, he had been tied tightly with rope to maintain this position, but soon, it became a habit.
The only skill Rebo hadn't fully grasped was maintaining vigilance while asleep. After a day of grueling training, he would fall into a deep sleep as soon as he settled into his corner. The idea of staying alert during sleep seemed nearly impossible.
While this lack of alertness during sleep disappointed Kayler, Rebo excelled in other areas—particularly in shooting and combat training.
Kayler viewed Rebo as a naturally skilled fighter, even if he lacked the stature and brute strength of others. His agility and precision in shooting made him a formidable opponent, even against stronger adversaries.
For Rebo, however, combat wasn't something he enjoyed. If it were elegant swordsmanship, he would have been more enthusiastic. Back in Southport, public swordsmanship displays were common, especially among the Westbay people, who were passionate and skilled in the art. Though not as popular as circuses or fashion shows, these displays always drew an audience, thanks to the large Westbay community in Southport.
Rebo had been captivated by the combination of strength and artistry in swordsmanship. But the combat techniques Kayler taught him lacked any semblance of beauty.
Kayler armed Rebo with a dagger—thin, sharp, and more like a razor than a weapon. It had no guard and a short handle, making it purely an offensive tool, useless for defense or parrying.
The techniques Kayler taught were brutally simple, focusing on speed and accuracy. The lessons revolved around slicing throats, severing arteries in the neck, or cutting through muscles and tendons. The thin dagger wasn't meant for stabbing into the heart, and while Kayler did cover assassination techniques, he warned Rebo against relying on a dagger for stabbing. If other targets were available, it was better to abandon the idea of stabbing someone in the heart.
Rebo fervently hoped he would never have to use these skills against anyone.
Oddly enough, Rebo found himself drawn to the small, elegant crossbow Kayler had given him. Though it was a deadly weapon, Rebo didn't feel the same burden when practicing with it. Whenever he had the chance, he would head to the backyard range to practice.
He could hit a bullseye from fifty meters without even aiming. Shooting birds in flight or hitting a stationary target while riding bareback was also relatively easy for him.
Practicing with the crossbow became Rebo's favorite activity, second only to his Westbay language lessons with Mr. Hyde.
These lessons took place in Mr. Hyde's private treasure room—a space no one but Kayler could enter without Mr. Hyde's explicit invitation.
The treasure room, in reality, was Mr. Hyde's personal lounge, where he spent most of his days surrounded by his lifetime collection of treasures.
For Rebo, the time spent in this room, filled with priceless art, was the highlight of his day.
Here, Rebo felt as if he had achieved his dream of traveling the world, experiencing the wonders of different cultures. The treasure room housed artifacts from all over the world, including items Rebo had never seen or even heard of.
The treasures in this room were not the gaudy gold and flashy jewels that others prized. Each piece in Mr. Hyde's collection represented a distinct civilization.
Even similar items of gold and silver were incomparable—a gold necklace crafted by a Floran artisan, adorned with gemstones, couldn't be compared to a necklace from Irei, where gold was spun into fine threads and woven into intricate designs, embellished with colorful enamel and scattered gemstones.
Beyond the treasures, Rebo also admired Mr. Hyde. He reminded Rebo of his former employer, a kind and gentle old man—but one who was far wealthier and more knowledgeable.
Rebo quickly realized that Mr. Hyde was the most exceptional connoisseur he had ever encountered. While Eckert was also a remarkable appraiser, he often had to consult books to identify an item's origin.
Mr. Hyde, on the other hand, seemed to know instantly where an item came from, what era it belonged to, and sometimes even its exact place of origin. Among all the treasures, the one that fascinated Rebo the most was a meticulously crafted model of a sailing ship.
The hull was made of oak, the same wood used for real ships. The deck was laid with red pine planks, and all the railings, decorations, and inlays were carved from walnut. The figurehead—a goddess of dawn—was intricately carved from a single piece of white locust wood, and it hung proudly at the ship's bow. The name of the ship, "Light Sail Horn," was clearly engraved on the sides and stern.
Rebo gently manipulated the rudder and the winches that controlled the sails, and they worked just as they would on a real ship.
"You seem to like my ship," a voice spoke in Westbay from behind him. It was Mr. Hyde. Apparently, he had enjoyed a restful nap and hadn't paid much attention to the time.
Rebo quickly stood aside, hands at his sides. By now, he was used to everyone in this house appearing and disappearing without warning.
"Yes, it's the most exquisite model I've ever seen. It feels almost real," Rebo replied in Westbay.
"It once was a real ship, sailing freely across the seas. I was the second mate on that ship," Mr. Hyde sighed. Rebo was used to this by now; Mr. Hyde's lessons were the most relaxed, consisting mostly of conversations in Westbay.
"You must have been to many places," Rebo said.
"Indeed, I've been to many places. I've seen the horse-riding, scimitar-wielding Tol people in the Eastern Beget, traveled further to the ancient land of Linti with its three-thousand-year-old civilization, and ventured as far as the distant East to Chinna, a metropolis with over three million people," Mr. Hyde spoke slowly in Westbay.
Rebo didn't fully understand, but his curiosity about these places was overwhelming.
"Are the Tol people of Beget truly that skilled at forging swords? Can their scimitars really slice through our long swords with ease? I've seen spices from Irei in Southport, and the merchants claimed Beget is rich in spices, with people adorned in gold and silver, and that the Tol emperor's palace is made of marble—the wealthiest nation of all. Is that true? What is Linti like? And is Chinna the country far to the East that produces porcelain?" Rebo asked, bombarding Mr. Hyde with questions.
"The Tol people's scimitars are indeed sharp, but they are not as wealthy as Linti and Chinna. In fact, Linti is the true land of spices. What we consider rare and precious spices are common there. Besides spices, Linti is rich in gold and gemstones—a truly prosperous nation. As for Chinna, it's an even stranger place. They speak a language and write characters unlike any other in the world. They have no alphabet, so they must learn thousands of unique symbols to communicate. What's most peculiar is that they don't believe in gods; they have no religion and instead worship their ancestors. It's a country with a strange culture and incredibly vibrant cities. Their cities often have hundreds of thousands of people, with several exceeding a million—a scale unimaginable in any other nation. Besides porcelain, they are also known for silk, and their paintings are unlike anything seen elsewhere," the old man explained, pointing to several paintings on the wall.