Volgin eyed the restaurant around him. Slow with service, weren't they? His eye might have trailed about curiously for Ivan as well a server; they arrived and he went his own way. The smaller, silver-haired Soviet was nowhere he could see so far. He had a better track record when it came to ... willingly bringing new, interesting things home.

Now, the simple mention of "swordsmaster" brought a piqued brow.

"You speak as if it is a common thing." His tone was that of an observer: Some of the residents of the Academy had very much indicated they were from another sort of existence. Although, as far as the giant could tell, any indication of magic might as well have been a fancy, obtuse term for what was properly termed napalm. "Where are you from?"