Chapter 167: A Little Honesty Goes A Long Way

Sir Leon de Harrington stepped away from them and inclined his head, "And so I believe that now would be the appropriate time for you to whisper back your Class, don't you agree, Han?" The Noble finally gave them a small conspiring grin.

Did the Noble use a Skill of some sort?

Because he felt the need and urge to say it, but still he bit his tongue down to prevent himself from sputtering out his Class. Although there was no notification showing up that his [ Ability: Will of the Player ] was being used right now. Maybe the young Lord was just convincing. Or he really was used to telling everything when he was being told to.

And yet Han's palms were sweaty.

Which was strange because all the Noble was asking was about their Class. Some might have issues with sharing it but how would friends even get along if they didn't know each other? Another thing was that Han knew that Sir Leon de Harrington had the Noble Class and presumably their Warrior Class. Maybe a Fencer Class? If they were more advanced than he thought.

But they didn't seem to be hiding anything.

So why couldn't he just tell them? It wasn't like his Classes were weird, right? Maybe Psion was a little questionable, but Rogue didn't seem to have any kind of backlash, did it? The Headmaster was a Rogue if he could remember properly. The Weapon Shop Owner had said it before.

He owed them at least this one, right?

Fair was fair. What the Noble had mentioned about leveling said confirmed his previous suspicions. He encountered troubles and stagnation with leveling, but he gained much more during his encounter with the Colossal Wyvern. Bigger threat meant bigger gains.

No pain, no gain essentially.

Although, that meant that Old Man Joe Light's words from before weren't actually that accurate. Weren't they supposed to be some Hero? Why did the old man say that all he needed to do was pick up a sword and he'd be a Swordsman? Things were clearly different. Han coughed lightly, "I gained the Rogue Class."

The man's eyes widened slightly, "Wow, that's quite… an interesting Class to gain. Were you aiming for it specifically?" Their reaction contained much more intensity than the old man in the weapon's shop.

Han scratched the back of his head and shrugged, "I mean, not really—I'm not really a sneaky guy or anything but…"

"You've got a good head on your shoulders." The Noble pointed out.

The man's words made him chuckle, he joked back. "Timothy says I'm an idiot so one of you must be lying." Although he was half-serious, because he really couldn't accept the compliment as truth. If he was an idiot then he should have considered all the implications of his action didn't he?

A sigh escaped the Noble's lips, "Simply hearing the words repeated to you must have made you believe it—your good friend is…" A flicker of hesitation crossed the man's face. A look of resolve settled on the man's face before he continued, "Has it ever crossed your mind that there is the chance that Timothy is jealous of you? And because he does not wish to say it, he represses it in and instead says the complete opposite of what he feels?"

Han blinked.

Jealousy?

Timothy to him? It sounded like the exact opposite of what he experienced. Han knew that he was the one who wished he had the other young man's talent and not the other way around and so he chuckled, shaking his head. "Nah, why would he be jealous of me? I'm a low-leveled orphan. I only got lucky getting here."

Sir Leon de Harrington's lighthearted expression turned serious, "Han—"

"Alright, I'm here!" Professor Uriel arrived at last and stepped out into the courtyard. Once again, their sword was strapped against his back as he strolled forward to them. "It's another day, and so… hmm, let me actually think of what I'll be teaching you guys, today."

A Professor who didn't have a course study—that was new.

Han turned back to the Noble and motioned, "Let's get seated now, dude." He bit his tongue and made his way to Donovan and Angelika. He didn't want to discuss the topic anymore and it was finally time for class to finally start.

.. .

When Timothy swung the door open and stepped in, he immediately called out to them. "I brought food—" His voice ended up trailing off as he saw the mess on the bed. The young woman was seated on the mattress, her cloak placed across her shoulders as she nibbled on a muffin with a lot of tidbits spread out on the bed.

Her eyes flickered up to him, her brows curling together. "No classes?"

"...you went out of the room?" Timothy placed the food he had brought for the woman before shaking his head. It was dangerous, not in a way that any actual harm's way would come across her—but she was still someone who wasn't supposed to be here. "I know you must be hungry but leaving isn't the best of things to do."

"I was careful, I pried the food from unsuspecting people."

"T-That's not exactly the point is it." Timothy rubbed his face and steadied his temper. "You've already been seen before even with that enchanted cloak of yours, what if you came across someone who'd more likely report you? I thought you wanted to stay out of sight from whoever you're running from."

"I would have to clarify your statement, this is not an enchantment but a—" Iola caught herself and shook her head, "You ended up forgetting about me and I had to make do with what I can. Shouldn't you be more pleased that I do not ask everything from you? You haven't even sold off the jewellery yet, if you had done it and gotten us money—then perhaps I wouldn't have to scavenge."

"You're blaming me?"

"I'm simply telling you that this situation could have been mitigated if you…"

"If I listened to every word that leaves your mouth?" One of Timothy's eyes twitched.

Iola was still seated on his bed as they talked. She addressed him with a straight and firm body posture and her shoulders were squared as she faced him without much regret. Instead, a defiant pout formed on her lips, "Possibly? Our agreement would be much—"

"Listen here. I only agreed because I didn't want a helpless girl to fend off for herself." Timothy crossed his arms. He wasn't just someone who… well, he initially agreed for the money. But he thought it wouldn't be much trouble. "If I wanted to—"

She frowned at him, "You're calling me helpless?"

"Isn't that what you referred to yourself before." Timothy reminded her with a frown. If he wanted to, then he could throw her out. He could return the items that he gathered from her and she would have to survive on her own.

Her cheeks colored as she flicked a hand at him, "Relatively helpless, I am unarmed after all. But if you haven't come around, I am capable of handling myself."

"Then feel free to leave now."

"What." Her tone wasn't of surprise but was instead flat.

It was a wonder on why he even helped her before—what had he been thinking back then? He needed to set this straight now.

"I've offered you some aid, but I hope that you are aware I'm also endangering myself by having you here—I have no idea on who you're hiding from." Timothy pointed it at last. If he hadn't been caught up in being like the heroes, he would have left her be. But he wasn't a Hero. Timothy was just Timothy. He needed to remind himself of that, "What are the chances that they track you and create trouble for me and the Academy? Did that come across to you at the very least?"

"...Ah, I see you were afraid of me inconveniencing you."

"I came back running here when I remembered that I just left you without anything."

"Thank you, I can see that you're quite dedicated..." Her gaze flitted to the food on the table and she didn't actually look impressed. A begrudging and reluctant gratitude was touched upon in her voice's tone.

"You know what, I'm going back to my class—please don't leave the room anymore. Haven't we made some agreements that it's best that you didn't leave? If you keep doing it, I'll be forced to ask you to leave…" Timothy couldn't believe that even if he was upset, he couldn't burst out in anger—but maybe that was also good in a way.

He needed to get to class.

Glancing one last time back at her, he saw that the young woman's lips were pressed together.

But then she let out a sigh and looked at him, "...Fine. Leave now, you're already late aren't you?" She managed to say it with a small smile. Shaking his head, Timothy raised his hands up in defeat and walked out, before he started running once he left the door.

He didn't want to be much late than he already was.