Strax didn't answer immediately. His eyes were fixed on Hadrian, scrutinizing him like a predator assessing prey unlike any other. There was no strength in the merchant, but there was something that set him apart—an uncommon stubbornness, a courage unbecoming of ordinary men.
The boy who had led them fell to his knees before Hadrian, pointing behind him, breathless and speechless. Hadrian followed suit, and when he saw Strax and Samira emerging from the smoke, his face tightened. First in astonishment, then in recognition.
He swallowed hard. "So... it's true."
The leader of the Scarlet Hand turned his head, staring at the pair. There was something about him, however, that wasn't just bravado—his yellow eyes flashed with an instinct telling him to retreat. But he tried to keep his steel mask on.
"Who are you to meddle here?" He raised the curved blade, pointing it at Strax. "This isn't a problem for strangers."
