[His immediate reaction to that is actually no, but he just as immediately recognizes that it's for his typical stupid-ass reasons: I'd only slow you down. You wouldn't really want that. And so on, and so forth, all those things that are already on the tip of his tongue when he opens his mouth to respond. But he stops himself. It's harder to check that shit in a social context, but this isn't exactly that—it's a mission. And Kadoc is at least able to mostly keep his shit together on those.

So he redirects himself, with some noticeable awkwardness, but at least he doesn't come out with anything too self-deprecating:]

—Now that we've run into each other, that's probably for the best. I'm not interested in getting distracted by competing against you when I'd rather stay focused on why I'm here. . . . What kind of magic do you have?

[He realizes, while saying it, that it's the first time he's ever just asked someone that so casually, but that it's probably this world's equivalent of something like what's your sign? Natives probably introduce themselves with it all the time. Weird.]