From the shadows, a hooded woman stepped forward, her arms crossed as she watched him. Her calm stance didn't hide the sense of authority she carried, and her sharp gaze made Leon feel like she could see through him.
She tilted her head slightly, a faint smirk appearing on her lips. "Hmmm…" The sound was soft but unsettling.
Leon froze, his rifle aimed at her. His breath hitched. It was her. The same woman who had appeared week ago, warning him to stop his salt trade.
"You," he said, his voice hard and wary. "What are you doing here?"
The woman's eyes flicked to the rifle in his hands. "You've been busy," she said casually. "Taking on a dozen knights isn't something most people can walk away from."
Leon narrowed his eyes. "What do you want?"
Elys, standing a few steps behind him, glanced nervously at the stranger. "Leon, who is she?" she whispered, her voice shaky.
"Stay back," Leon muttered, not looking away from the woman.
The hooded figure chuckled. "Relax, boy. If I wanted to kill you, you wouldn't have seen me coming."
Leon didn't lower the rifle. "Is that supposed to make me feel better?"
The woman shrugged, her gaze drifting back to his weapon. "That's an interesting toy you've got there. Not something you see every day. Where'd you get it?"
Leon's grip tightened slightly. "None of your business."
She smiled, holding up a hand. "Fine, fine. I'm not here to turn you in. If I wanted to, I would've done it the first time we met."
"Then why are you here?"
She sighed, as though dealing with him was a chore. "To stop you from making a mess you can't clean up."
Leon scoffed. "Let me guess—you're here to lecture me?"
The woman's tone shifted, becoming sharper. "You're playing with fire. A weapon like that isn't just dangerous—it's unnatural here. Keep using it, and you'll draw attention from things worse than knights."
"That weapon—it's not from this empire, is it?"
Leon didn't answer, his rifle still aimed squarely at the woman. His eyes narrowed as he studied her. "Start talking. Why are you here? And make it quick."
The woman sighed softly, as if dealing with him was an exhausting task, and reached up to pull back her hood. For the first time, Leon could see her face clearly—sharp features framed by dark hair that fell just past her shoulders, with striking amber eyes that seemed to glow faintly in the dim light. She looked younger than he expected, but there was something about her gaze—steady, calculating—that hinted at a depth he couldn't place.
"My name is Arial," she said evenly, her voice carrying an air of authority. "I'm a Confessor."
Leon's brow furrowed. The word meant nothing to him, but the way she said it, as though it should explain everything, only irritated him further. "I don't know what that means, and I don't care. What do you want?"
Instead Elys As she heard Confessor she hid behind him not daring to look at the women.
Arial tilted her head, her lips curving into a faint, enigmatic smile. "I'm here to offer you something."
Leon let out a sharp breath, unimpressed. "Why would I need your help for that?"
"Because you've already made enemies," Arial replied, gesturing toward the scattered bodies of knights outside the building. "And those knights were just the beginning. The Empire doesn't take kindly to disruptions—especially when it comes to someone profiting off resources they control. Your little salt trade has painted a target on your back."
Leon's jaw tightened, though he kept his face impassive. "If the Empire wants to take me down, they'll have to send more than a few knights."
Arial studied him for a moment, her amber eyes glinting with something that looked like amusement. "Bold. I'll give you that. But boldness only gets you so far." She gestured subtly toward his rifle. "You think that weapon of yours will keep you safe? It might, for a time."
Leon's grip on his rifle tightened. "What are you trying to say?"
Arial sighed again, this time with a hint of exasperation. "Why are you so difficult to talk to?" She shook her head, as though scolding a stubborn child. "Fine. I'll be direct. Help me with something—with that weapon of yours—and this city is yours. If we can save it."
Leon blinked, caught off guard by her words. "What?" he muttered, his voice low and uncertain. "What are you talking about?"
Arial smiled faintly, but it didn't reach her eyes. "You heard me. Work with me, and this city is yours. You'll have the power you want—the control. But only if we manage to keep it standing."
Her words hung in the air like a challenge, but Leon couldn't shake the feeling that there was more she wasn't telling him. "What exactly are you asking me to do?"
"That's the part you're not going to like," she said, her tone suddenly serious. "There's something happening here, something you don't understand."
Leon glared at her, his instincts screaming not to trust her. But something in her tone, in the way she spoke with absolute certainty, gave him pause. "If I help you," he said slowly, "what's in it for me? Why should I take this risk?"
Arial's gaze softened, though her expression remained guarded. "Because if you don't, you won't live long enough to regret it."
Leon opened his mouth to respond, but Arial cut him off with a single gesture—a raised hand that silenced him as effectively as a blade to his throat.
"Think carefully, Leon," she said, her voice dropping to a near whisper. "This isn't just about you anymore."
Before he could respond, she stepped back, her form blending into the shadows. "I'll be watching. Don't make me regret giving you this chance."
And then she was gone, leaving Leon standing in the eerie silence of the aftermath.
Elys finally spoke, her voice trembling. "Leon…"
He exhaled sharply, his grip tightening on the rifle. "First, we make sure we survive the night."