At the evening of the Andelheim, Varen and his group made their way down the dimly lit streets, the sound of their boots echoing against the cobblestones, the tension from the inn still lingering in the air. Most of them walked in silence, their minds replaying the events from earlier, unsure if they were supposed to feel victorious or uncomfortable.
Finally, one of the younger men, a boy with short brown hair and a firm expression, cleared his throat, breaking the silence. This was Darius, the second strongest in the group, someone who had earned respect through his solidified power within the ranks. His voice cut through the quiet. "Varen," he started, his tone calm but challenging. "Did you really need to do that? I mean… didn't you go a little overboard back there?"
The other men glanced at each other, tension rippling through the group. The air grew colder as all eyes turned toward Darius, sensing the confrontation brewing.
