To Asher's surprise, rather than get excited at the prospect of going head-to-head with a bunch of deadly and murderous assassins, Sefta merely leaned back on her couch, rolling her eyes at him.

"Well, that tells me at the very least even if you've been in other noble estates recently, you don't keep up with the news."

"What do you mean?" he asked, leaning forward despite himself. "What news?"

"We all but wiped out the Guild presence in Poltar a few months back," she said, snorting as she popped another fish stick into her mouth. Sefta didn't seem to have the slightest care about chewing with her mouth open, and Asher got a front row seat to just how much damage those teeth of hers could cause as she continued. "We don't put up with that type of crap like the other cities do. After dealing with them on our own for years whenever they dared to pop up, my family finally hired as many seekers and bloodhounds we could get our hands on and did a city-wide purge of the Guild. It's not easy to hide in a city without any basements, and we were quite thorough. Killed most of them, and the few that ran off didn't bother coming back. Probably signed up to keep killing at some other city's Guild."

"You know… that would explain the Shark element user I fought back in Dormaul," Asher muttered, getting a laugh out of her.

"Fin went to Dormaul of all places?!" She slapped her thigh, coughing crumbs everywhere as she choked on her own fish sticks. "That is hilarious! Bastard was one of the few people in the city faster in the water than I am. I was pissed off for a week after he got away from me. Guess that speed didn't do him much good in a mountain of all places!"

"Yeah, he tried ambushing me in a bathhouse. Not exactly a lot of open water to swim around in."

"My God, that is too good," she chuckled, wiping a tear from her eye. "Anyway, there you have it. No Guild in the city as far as I'm aware."

"What happened to the Finger in charge? Or their Knuckle?"

"Well now, you do know a thing or two about the Guild," she said, giving him a far more discerning look. "Plenty of people know about the Fingers, but most nobles aren't even aware of the Knuckles' existence unless they have rather close ties to the Guild."

"I killed Whikoga's Finger a few weeks back," he admitted, actually earning an impressed look from the wild noble. "Had a few run-ins with their Knuckle as well, though I didn't manage to kill him."

"I'm not surprised, the Knuckles are famous for their shadow bodies and slipperiness," she explained. "You really took out Eight? I've heard about his magadrine powder. Nasty stuff, that. I had a cousin who died to it a few years back. Never was quite the same after we brought him back. Still terrified of receiving new mail."

"I've heard coming back from the dead can have strange effects on people," he muttered, glancing at her hand and realizing Sefta was missing her left pinky finger just like every other noble he'd met. "Have you ever had to be resurrected?"

"Wow, glad to see I made an impression on you fighting that serpent," she said, rolling her eyes. "You think someone could kill me that easily? Not a chance."

"So the Finger?" he prodded, wondering what exactly the procedure was for when one of the Guilds just up and collapsed entirely.

"Not a clue," she shrugged. "We figured she swam away with the rest of her survivors, seeing as we never got the showdown we were preparing for. Four had the Shark, Water, and Lightning elements. She was a true terror in and out of the water."

"I can imagine."

Asher sat back, sipping from his cup of tea and even risking one of the questionable fish sticks as he tried to figure out where to go from here. If the Guild truly was already taken care of in Poltar, and he had no reason to suspect Sefta of lying, then his next few days were up in the air again. He could try to Recall back to Dormaul, but the Guild was deep in hiding after he'd cleaved his way through a third of their senior assassins in only a few days, and he doubted they'd show themselves again until they thought it was all clear. Unlike a floating city sitting atop a lake, a literal mountain had no end to potential hiding spots, even ones good enough to avoid the eyes of a trained seeker. Returning to Whikoga was an option, but Owl had already killed off most of the senior assassins that remained, and the High Prince had warned him to stay away from the city. He still didn't know why, but it was probably wise to listen to the man who seemed to know things from the future.

He could treat the next few days as something of a vacation, but he wasn't a fan of that one bit. There were far too many powerful opponents after his head. If he wanted to stand any chance at surviving and taking them down before they could do the same to him, he needed to keep striding forward. If he didn't have actual bad people to fight, then he needed another way to train, similar to how he'd battled against Moxy.

Blinking, Asher stared at the crude noblewoman before him as she used one of the knives that had fallen on the floor to try and pick a bit of fish out from in between her serrated teeth. She wasn't exactly Moxy, but she was better than nothing.

"If the Guild is already gone, I don't really have any plans for the next few days," he admitted, getting a noncommittal grunt from Sefta. "…Any chance you enjoy sparring?"

Sefta's knife froze, and she stared at him, gears turning in her head as if she were wondering just how much trouble she'd get in with her family if she accidentally ended up killing a tourist. Evidently, the answer was 'not that much,' as she tossed the knife over her shoulder and grinned at him as the blade sank into the wall behind her.

"I could be swayed," she said, cracking her knuckles hungrily.

Asher learned one thing rather quickly while sparring against Sefta. Mainly, that she really struggled with the concept of 'sparring' versus 'fighting to the death.' Unlike Moxy, who attacked with calm, calculated strikes during their many battles, attacks that were just barely balancing on that border between nonlethal and lethal, Sefta leapt straight over that border before turning around and stabbing it with her harpoon for good measure, laughing all the while.

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The noblewoman fought like a rabid shark, rarely thinking about what was going on and trusting purely on her instincts to evade attacks as she focused entirely on trying to gut him with her harpoon. For Asher's part, he decided to keep Astral Dip a secret, focusing instead on practicing his movements with Distortion. Sefta was the perfect opponent for such practice as her own body somehow flowed and shifted in seemingly unnatural ways, almost like a living current of water, giving him some inspiration as to how he might be able to better dodge attacks made against him.

And it was a good thing he was primarily focusing on improving his evasiveness and ability to dodge, because also unlike Moxy, Sefta didn't have a Life element. That meant no frequent breaks to heal up the damage that had been delivered up to that point.

Even with her rabid attack style, Asher got the sense she was holding back on him as well, at least in the sense that she had skills she was choosing not to use. Despite knowing how dangerous he was from her interesting skill, it was common knowledge in this world that there was a big difference between destructive potential and survivability. In fact, from what Asher had seen, the deadliest people tended to be glass cannons. Draken could kill an entire crowd with little more than a thought, but drop a roof on the man, and he'd probably die from being crushed. The Spider had been capable of making poisons that, if spread on something, will kill the person that touched it within moments. While not quite as deadly as Eight's magadrine powder, she could mass produce her poisons, making them far more terrifying for the common person. Yet even with that ability, all it had taken was a single dagger thrust to kill her.

All that to say, Sefta had no idea what he was capable of, and she probably didn't want to risk killing anyone innocent, let alone someone with ties to the other noble families. As much as she seemed to be indifferent about being a noble, she clearly understood the expectations that were put in place for her. Her aura made that more than apparent.

Granted, that only meant she wasn't pulling out her skills she thought might actually stand a chance at killing him before he could react. She was still swinging around a very sharp harpoon that was more than capable of detaching his head from his body if he mistimed one of his dodges.

On his part, thankfully, Asher had realized long ago that Sever the Thread was a skill that functioned based on intent. So long as he was only sparring rather than actively trying to put his opponent down, he could keep it from activating. That meant the thin gashes he carved along Sefta's body when she was too slow to fully dodge or when he caught her off guard with a tunnel of compressed space would eventually heal on their own. He was immensely grateful for that, as otherwise, he never would have been able to have friendly spars like this with anyone ever again.

By the time dinner rolled around, the two of them were thoroughly exhausted, and Asher finally called it a night.

"Let's stop there," he gasped, returning his steel daggers to his bandolier and holding up a hand. "I need time to recover. And food." Despite the fact that he hadn't leveled up any of his skills, he still felt pretty good about the workout. While they were definitely important, there was more to fighting than just skills, after all.

"You need to work on your cardio," Sefta snorted, placing her harpoon behind her head and leaning on it in what he'd quickly come to learn was her default pose. "Too many people think they can just rely on their skills and elements without focusing on their own bodies. It'll be the death of you."

"I've come to realize that, in fact," he admitted, shaking his head. "Suggestions?"

"I mean, there's the obvious," she said, laughing as she gestured all around them. They'd commandeered a tiny city-fragment that was designed specifically for one-on-one sparring for their battle, and Asher had been thankful that there was at least one of them that had walls up to prevent other people from looking in at them. Just because he was willing to show Sefta his Distortion, didn't mean he wanted everyone to know about it. "Swimming is basically the best full-body exercise there is, and there's no better way to work cardio. Just swim for a few hours each day, that'll get you there."

"Oh yeah, just swim a few hours each day," he repeated, rolling his eyes. "Great suggestion, thank you."

"You're welcome! Anyway, want to grab dinner? I have a few questions for you regarding your skill set. Specifically about the skills you didn't use."

"What makes you think I wasn't using all of my skills?" Asher asked cautiously.

"Please. I've been fighting for over two decades now. It's pretty obvious when I fight someone who's developed their own fighting style and is trying not to reveal a skill that's a cornerstone of said style."

"Fair enough," he nodded. "Though I was actually planning to meet up with my girlfriend and her younger brother for dinner. I guess you're welcome to join us if you'd like, though."

"Eh, not like I have anything better to do," she said with a quick shrug. "I can only eat so many fish strips before I start getting sick of them. Lead the way!"

Fish 'strips,' huh, he thought, wondering how they differed from the frozen delicacy he used to love as a child back on Earth. Focusing on the mark he'd left on his tavern room, Asher quickly led them back through the city. He realized halfway through their journey Sefta must have expected him to get hopelessly lost, as the woman began grumbling to herself when he wasn't forced to stop and ask for directions a single time. They did have to stop every now and again as civilians came up to chat with Sefta, however, and Asher could only watch in amazement as the woman's entire demeanor shifted with each conversation.

It wasn't so much that she acted differently as that it was obvious she truly cared about the citizens of her city. No question was too simple for her to answer, and every greeting was returned with a genuine smile, many of them returned even with the person's name. By the time they made it back to the Drifting Anchor, Sefta had to have greeted nearly twenty people by name, and nearly twice that more in passing.

"I'd heard you guys were popular, but it's something else to actually see it in person," he admitted, leading her into the tavern.

"What can I say, I'm a people-person!" she laughed as they walked through the front doors. "Fighting is fun, but helping citizens is-"

"Sefta! There you are!"

Sefta froze in response to the speaker as though she'd just spotted a serpent coming for her with its jaws wide open. Following her stunned gaze, Asher spotted Samantha, Brian, and Mags sitting at one of the tables, chatting happily. Mags had gotten to her feet, and was beaming at Sefta as though she couldn't believe she'd walked right into her lap. Before Sefta could escape, Mags darted forward with far more speed than she'd used to chase after Brant, and Asher blinked as the woman all but appeared in front of them, wrapping Sefta up in a tight hug.

"Where have you been hiding these past few weeks, young lady?" Mags asked, firmly holding her by the shoulders as she pulled back. "I've been worried sick about you!"

"Sheesh, calm down!" Sefta growled, her gaze flicking to Asher's and seeing the confusion in his eyes. With a sigh, she nodded toward the Mags. "This is Mags," she said, frowning as if her next words caused her physical pain. "…My mother."

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