The woman stood gracefully, her long coat billowing in the wind as she fixed her gaze on Ivan. Her hair cascaded down in a brilliant shade of blue, reminiscent of the brightest days of the ocean.
"Just passersby," Ivan replied succinctly, maintaining his unwavering gaze on the woman and her companion, who was currently dissecting the slain beast in search of something within its body.
"Is that so? These parts are Rowhounds territory, so the next question determines your survival: What's your faction?" The woman's question carried an undeniable magical aura, palpable in the air.
"Faction?" Ivan responded, his ignorance clear, as he couldn't think of a better answer.
"Ah, fresh from the first floor, I see," the lady remarked, her magical presence receding.
"Yes," Ivan confirmed.
"You should have mentioned that from the start," the woman commented, her magical aura dissipating completely.
