The air in the underground market was thick with smoke and whispers. Merchants hawked everything from ancient artifacts to illicit weaponry, their stalls lit by dim lanterns.
"We need supplies," Liora whispered. "Something to handle traps, and definitely weapons."
Darian led the way, his sharp eyes scanning the crowd. "Stay close. This place isn't for the faint of heart."
As they negotiated with a surly merchant, a group of armed men approached. Their leader, a burly man with a crooked nose, sneered. "What do we have here? Treasure hunters?"
Darian stepped forward, hand resting on the hilt of his sword. "Back off."
The man laughed. "Not a chance. Hand over the map, and we might let you walk out of here."
Before anyone could react, Darian moved like a shadow. In seconds, the leader was disarmed, and his men scattered.
Liora stared at Darian, her heart racing. "Remind me not to get on your bad side."
He smirked. "Smart choice."
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