“It’s good to see you too, Baba,” Bunty gave him a light squeeze. He wanted to see Baba too, but the thought of getting bad news about Alexander had discouraged him. “I had a meeting scheduled for later. I was waiting to get that out of the way before coming by.” Bunty couldn’t be sure whether it was a lie or not. “How’re things in the house?”

“Tense.” Baba sighed. “Edgar’s friendship with the DeLawneys is evolving into a business partnership. You know how Lord Graham hates them, but he can’t afford to turn any revenue streams away right now. The Climbers out to find a fix for Alexander are costing the house an arm and a leg.”

“How’s Victoria?”

“Unhappy, of course,” Baba answered. “She’s trying to convince Lord Graham to let her lead a party of her own. The house can’t afford to spare any resources right now, though. So, she’s not her best-self right now. I’ll be honest, Bunty. I’m in half a mind to leave. Perhaps it’s what I should’ve done when Lord Graham turned his back on you to keep Edgar happy.” He limped over to the little arm-chair by the window and took a seat. “I don’t think I can ever forgive him for that Bunty. I understand that Alexander’s state had made him desperate, but you’ve done nothing but care for—”

“You shouldn’t leave the Boleyns, Baba,” Bunty said, interrupting him. “I need you to keep an eye out for Alexander and Victoria. I don’t want Edgar resorting to murder to cement his position. Besides, you would’ve left already if not for all your students.”

“That’s the only thing holding me back. I’ve trained all of those men and women serving the Boleyns. I’m scared that without my advice, Edgar and Lord Graham will get them all killed.”

“They will. I’m not sure about Lord Graham since I’ve never worked closely with him, but Edgar will send people to their deaths willingly. You can’t turn your backs on them until I fix Alexander.”

“Are you sure you can do it?” Baba asked. Bunty smiled, summoning his spirit. He released the Slimeskin tentacle, and it flumped down to the floor. Baba’s eyes widened. “You upgraded your spirit?”

“My new Climbing companion and I killed a thousand-year-old slime lord. I can summon this tentacle and have two freeform inanimate summons. I haven’t figured them out yet, but it’s a start.”

A wide smile spread across Baba’s face. Within a couple of seconds, there were tears welling up in his eyes. “I’m proud of you,” he said, his voice cracking. “I’ll be honest, Bunty, I worried that you were going to get yourself killed. Some part of me was hoping you’d come to your senses after struggling to find a party and settle into civilian life. I’m sorry for doubting you, son. Gaia dealt you a hard hand with that spirit, but you went off on your own and came out on top.”

“It’s thanks to everything you and Neer taught me,” Bunty recalled the tentacle and summoned his staff. Then he dismissed it too. “I’ve climbed, trapped and duelled.” He waved at the axe standing at the foot of the bed. “It’s not just a weapon you gifted me Baba, but instincts, skills, and so much more. These past few days, I’ve been through a lot to get my Core, and I’ve come to a decision. We’re going to make something of ourselves without the nobility. Let me climb a bit more, get stronger and establish myself. Once I find the Omrito and fix Alexander, you and I are breaking ties with the Boleyns. I’d like to remain friends with them, but I’m done with the nobility, their politics and two-faced actions.”

Baba groaned, struggling back onto his feet. He limped over to Bunty and placed a hand on his shoulder. “I’m with you, son,” Baba said. “I know you’re working with the Free Trade Federation. Considering where you’re staying, I imagine you’re doing well for yourself. Perhaps it’s time I copy those Japanese martial artists and establish a Dojo. The Ansons might have blacklisted me, but plenty of well-off buggers still want my tutelage. We’ll be fine.”

“I’ll support you too!” Bunty exclaimed. “I got lucky on my first solo outing, and I’ve got a significant amount in the bank. We could buy a nice property where the ground floor can be your training school and the upper level and apartment for us.”

“I’d like that very much, Bunty. Would you mind if we called it Sen and Son?”

“Sen and Sons,” Bunty corrected him. “Neer deserves a place there too.”

“You know something?” Baba asked, laughing. “I didn’t raise Neer alone. Your mother had a hand in his upbringing. When she passed and left me to do everything for you, I was terrified. I spent so much time terrified that I was going to screw up. You turned out so much better than him.” When Bunty opened his mouth to protest, Baba raised a hand, stopping him. “I know it’s wrong of me to compare sons, but it’s true. You’re honest, and you care so much. It doesn’t matter whether the subject is blood or not. Even though you don’t carry the sword, Bunty, you’re a swordsman at heart.”

Tears gathered in Bunty’s eyes as he hugged his father. Things were coming together at last. Everything would soon be okay.

“I forgot to tell you,” Baba said, pulling away. “The city guard and council have launched an investigation regarding what happened to Alexander and you. Even though most people from the pub claim it was a brawl, they think there is more to it. I guess they take a member of the nobility getting assaulted seriously. They’ve questioned the pub’s owner regarding the barmaid that you claimed is his daughter. It’s been difficult getting him to talk, but he revealed that the woman had ties with a family. We don’t know which yet, but you might get an apology from Lord Graham soon.”

“I don’t think it’ll mean anything in the grand scheme of things,” Bunty replied. “The apology, I mean. It’ll feel good to see Pari and whoever else was behind it brought to justice. I’m sure it was one of the houses. All the recruiters were watching when Alexander interacted with the upgrade station.” He sighed. “I just didn’t think they’d go that far, you know. When we went to the Outer Rings, I thought we’d get into a brawl at most. Or, someone would come at us with a knife, and Alexander’s spirit would scare them away. They managed to get our guards down and…”

“I don’t want you blaming yourself for what happened, Bunty,” he said. “Alcohol and pretty women are a trap someone your age is expected to fall into. Whoever they were, I’m betting they placed the woman there as a scout for powerful Climbers. I’m sure there are people like her spread around the city. Alexander made himself a target, and they took advantage of his naivety.”

The pair talked at depth discussing Bunty’s experiences in the tower so far. Baba reprimanded him for his solo-outings. Even though both instances ended in excellent payouts, he didn’t want to lose his only son. He had nothing to say about the Ito-clan, though. He’d heard of them before but not of Yukiho. Baba’s experiences with Japanese climbers and locals had been pleasant. He suggested it might just be the one clan or Yukiho that was the sour grape.

After ordering some tea, the two got talking about Bunty’s spirit. Baba went silent when he told him about Explorer and the form they’d taken. He was quick to move on from the subject and focus on the Slimeskin, accompanying spells and summons. Baba insisted he use Eirkh’s Core as soon as possible. Considering the spells it had offered Bunty, he believed it would let him add sharp edges to his summons. Unfortunately, Baba couldn’t get to the bottom of why the coat wouldn’t function as Bunty intended.

“Don’t let yourself get frustrated,” Baba said. “It’ll come to you. You can’t have a named spirit without quirks and challenges.”

A knock at the door interrupted Bunty’s train of thought. He rushed over to the door, still wearing his blobby summoned coat. It was Gwyneth. She had turned up early. At first, she froze, looking Bunty up and down. Then she burst out laughing.

“That thing looks ridiculous,” she stated, inviting herself into his room. When Gwyneth saw Baba, she stopped. She looked between him and Bunty, eyebrow raised. “Swordmaster Sen. I didn’t make the connection.”

Baba nodded, looking at his son, confused. Bunty had been ambiguous about his new climbing partner’s gender. He worried that as an old-fashioned man with still very orthodox Bengali views, he’d jump to conclusions.

“I’m Gwyneth Fry.” She took his hand and shook it. “Your son’s new climbing companion. It’s an honour to meet someone with your skill and reputation—he didn’t tell me you were the Swordmaster Utpal Sen! The DeLawneys have been poaching your students from the different houses for years. I’ve heard so much about you.”

“So that’s where they’ve been disappearing,” Baba replied with a polite smile. His more talented students ended up working for the Ansons. Only the rejects went to the DeLawneys. “I owe thanks for helping my son with his Core.”

“It’s the least I could do for his assistance.” Even though Gwyneth wasn’t of noble birth, she had the act down. All she needed to play the role was make-up and clothing. “Your son is a good man. He helped and trusted me when he had no reason to. It’s rare to run into people like him.”

“He’s one of a kind, isn’t he?” Baba laughed, looking between her and Bunty. “I’m sure your spells and knowledge will be a great help during his climb.”

“Bunty’s one of a kind alright,” Gwyneth said, returning her attention to Bunty. “I mean what are you thinking, man, wearing a coat like that. Please tell me that’s not your summon.”

“It is.” Bunty sighed, his shoulder drooping. He showed her his sketches. “It’s not what I’m trying to make. I can’t seem to make the coat hold its shape, though.”

Gwyneth poked his coat’s blobby tail. “Didn’t you say designing involved drawing and writing about it? I see only poor artwork here. Where are the annotations and descriptions? I reckon that’s what you’re missing. The spirit needs a clear explanation of what you want from it.” She looked at Baba. “I thought he was smarter.”

He laughed. “I like you,” Baba said as Bunty rushed to his desk to add to his drawings. “Reckon you can keep my son safe?”

“It’ll be a challenge, but I’ll make sure he doesn’t get himself killed,” she replied, helping herself to the remnants of breakfast.