As the mercenary stared at him, his judging gaze felt like a knife, peeling back every layer under that scrutinizing look.
Teclos felt as though the man could somehow see through his soul, especially when he repeated his name and his expression turned thoughtful.
"Teclos," the man repeated. His mouth twisted into a faint smirk. "I've heard your name before."
That made Teclos look up at him, though strangely, there was no fear in his eyes.
The man noticed and gave a low chuckle.
"Ah, yes, a promising talent, if I remember right. You have a darkness affinity... good instincts as well, apparently. The son of a good hunter. You were supposed to be someone worth watching over."
His eyes dragged over Teclos again, slower this time, and he said the next part with the most condescending tone he was capable of. "And now... you're a slum rat without a future."
Teclos's fingers tightened at his sides, and he finally reacted.
"How do you know that?"
