It was cold. That was the first sensation that Leon felt. This was followed by the pitter patter of raindrops outside and then the realization that he was wet.

  Opening his eyes, he scanned his apartment for the source of cold air and water. A quick look revealed a window that had been left open from the night before. Thinking back, he vaguely recalled opening it to cool down after a hot bath. The thought of having to close it had hardly passed his mind; in the past, his maids would have taken care of such a thing. Now though, the only one to blame for his poor state was himself. Such were the risks with maintaining a home on his own.

  Calling it a home was disingenuous, he felt. It would be akin to calling a prison cell a tavern; they both were places to spend the night, but the similarities ended there. His apartment was little more than a small collection of rooms, all based on a single floor in a larger house.

  It was appalling how he was forced to live. Stuck between three rooms with scant but a thin wall to separate him from his neighbors.

  There was little doubt in his mind that he lived in the lowest part of the Old Quarter, the area he would label as slums, but that others generously called the Gold District due to the high number of merchants and powerful adventurers living here. Normally, he would not have deigned to rub shoulders with such commonfolk; however, his options had been limited. Once the rent on their old home had run out, he had been unceremoniously evicted. The landlord had even seen fit to appropriate many of their belongings, something about being collateral for debts due.

  With a pained groan from the memories, he arose from his bed, back stiff and neck sore. Yesterday had been a training day. So engrossed had he been with an idea for Rayne’s development that he had made the foolish mistake of not stretching beforehand. Walking out of his bedroom, he entered the larger kitchen in search of a meal.

  The last mission had given Leon a good chunk of coin. He had had to subtract a small amount for equipment maintenance, but then he had decided to treat himself by spending the rest on filling his pantry. Opening his pantry revealed the results, alongside an irritating squeak from the hinges. Indeed, his pantry overflowed with food for the first time since he had been forced out of the Noble District. The sight was enough to brighten his spirits, before the cruel reality that this would be the highlight of his day quickly dashed any mirth.

  He had made sure to purchase an adequate spread of groceries with the coin—breads, meats, fruits, he had even splurged on a small block of cheese. Unfortunately, it had not taken long for the fruit to spoil, the bread to harden, and even the cheese to grow moldy.

  The notion of food going bad was obviously not new to him. It was the speed of which the transformation had taken place that had been most perplexing. Back in his old home, he could have sworn he had never seen spoiled food. Only now did he suppose that was more due to the diligence of their maid’s rather than the reality of nature.

  With a heavy sigh, he took out the cheese and some bread, grabbing a few of the remaining fruits that were not quite so squishy and fly-infested as well. He placed the bread on the table, and grabbed a knife, slamming it into the loaf.

  Slicing the bread was somehow more difficult than cutting through actual goblins. Luckily, he had discovered a useful tool to help him power through. Activating Strong Arm gave him just the boost he needed to work the knife through and cut off a healthy chunk of bread. It had taken him a number of days—alongside an embarrassing amount of visits to check the skill manual—but he had finally mastered the skill.

  Looking down at his slice had him considering if Keen Edge would truly have been the more prudent choice as his cut had been utterly jagged and uneven. Had a pupil shown him such a display on a training dummy, he would have had them practicing swings the entire day.

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  Instead, he activated Flame Blade on the small knife, and spread the cheese and fruit over the bread. Experience had shown that a small amount of toastiness helped make the bread slightly more palatable. The fire also helped clean the knife a little, a useful side effect considering how caked on the grime could become. Quickly throwing the knife over his shoulder and into the sink with all the other dishes, he sat down to enjoy his meal.

  Compared to food at the guild, it was barely passable. Compared to food that his chefs had previously prepared in the past, however; it may as well have been considered swill. The time in the slums had toughened his taste buds, though. A month ago, he would have gagged on such a meal, especially the hints of metallic taste that he dared not dwell on. Nowadays, it was an almost refreshing start to the day, the cheese and fruit bordering on tasty.

  Pushing past such depressing thoughts, he finished the meal, and returned the food to the pantry. Once again, he was taunted by the squeaking door as he closed it. His complaints to the landlord had fallen on deaf ears, it supposedly not being part of his purview.

  Which was ridiculous, of course, as it was the landlord's building. He should be responsible for maintaining every aspect of it. It had been jarring enough when Leon had realized that there were no maids for cleaning or prepping meals!

  When he had been evicted, one of the first things he had done was search for new lodgings. Originally when he had seen the ‘for rent’ sign, he had come to the reasonable assumption that it had been for the whole building, and not just a single room. The landlord had laughed at such an idea, and Leon had just been about to leave when he had been offered a deal: a year-long lease for almost exactly how many gold coins he had on him at the time.

  The man had been extremely happy to help him with such a deal, a smile on his face despite the warnings about how rare it was. Admittedly, it had hurt to be so low on coin right before joining the Guild, and then subsequently losing any savings he had in his desperate attempts to start earning. As his parents had bemoaned constantly, though, you must spend money to make money.

  Such thoughts brought him comfort as he walked back to his bed and began the task of equipping his armor which was carefully stowed away in the closet. It would be easier to leave his armor at home, especially if he were to be spending the day training Rayne as he imagined. Alas, Leon did not trust the security of his apartment; there were few guards or extra security measures. Were this his old home, he would be content knowing of the constant guard presence in the Noble District, but for whatever reason, it seemed that the guard presence was lowest in the Old Quarter.

  It was better than the actual Dregs at least. There was hardly even a guard presence down there. He had investigated and found that the guards responsible for that area typically holed up in their headquarters, only venturing out once a fortnight or so. It was utterly disgraceful; they essentially just left the lower classes to fend for themselves. Even if they were not knights, they had taken an oath, and it was their duty to protect the people. He shook his head. Disgraceful.

  Fully dressed in everything that might be considered valuable, he departed for the day. It was a straight shot from his apartment to the Guild where he could check for any interesting missions. When he would inevitably fail to find any, then it would simply be training with Rayne for the day. The rain would provide a good experience for the man; slippery terrain was a good thing to practice for.

  Closing the door, he turned his key in the decorative lock. It was a flimsy thing—one good kick could easily break it. Really, all it did was serve as a small deterrent. Just another reason why he loathed the place.

  Maybe he would properly spar against Rayne today, let loose a little and take off the training gloves. Shame the man would be incapable of responding properly to such an opportunity, Leon could use the catharsis.

  Honestly, he could use a proper training partner. Rayne was great for teaching, the man’s drive and clear desire to improve both worked in his favor, and he was shaping up to be a proficient fighter, but he was not on Leon’s level. Nowhere close in fact, and it would be a long time before Rayne could give him a decent fight on the sparring ground.

  He sighed. Such is the cruelty of life. I shall have to make do until I have molded him into a proper fighter… However long that may take.

  Another sigh racked his body as he left the apartment building. Ideas on how best to push his pupil occupied his thoughts as he stepped into the downpour and made towards the guildhall.