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The Scouts Return

"Well, I suppose that's good news for me?" I chuckled, amused by Richard's enthusiasm.

"Of course," Richard nodded eagerly, rubbing his chubby hands together in anticipation of seeing the beastmen.

"The slaves you sold us are quite popular, Baron Ethan," Richard remarked, his tone appreciative as he retrieved a letter from his pocket and placed it respectfully on the table before me.

"Baron Ethan, this letter contains signatures from various other noble lords who wished to express their gratitude towards you," he explained, gesturing towards the missive.

The maid waiting nearby promptly approached and handed the letter to me with a bow.

As I opened the envelope, I couldn't help but feel a sense of curiosity. The letter was written in the intricate language of nobles, a dialect reserved for their exclusive use. It was a reminder of the distinct social hierarchy that governed our world.

This was the first time I had received a missive in this language, and its arrival piqued my interest
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