Adrian strolled down the rotting, nauseating roads of Revernus Town, enjoying the usual attention he draws from people around him.

Normally, the eyes pursuing him would have been a badge of honour, maybe even respect, surging him with an overwhelming feeling of pride and victory. Adrian liked being noticed; it fed his pride.

But it was different today. Amid all the usual stares, he caught something he didn't normally see: pity. And perhaps, fear?

Adrian continued his way down the street when he chanced to look up at Alex, a fat shopkeeper of a grocery store, running over to him, his eyes again moving restlessly round as if doing something dangerous. At least Alex was known to Adrian: a year ago, Adrian had saved this man's life; since then, the shopkeeper was loyal to him.

"Adrian!" Alex whispered urgently, scanning the area, then inching closer. "You heard what happened?! It's real serious this time, Caius posted a price for your head, declaring you a traitor to the Shadowborn Mercenaries. Now, the whole regiment is hunting you. You shouldn't be out here like this!"

Adrian let out a short, quiet laugh, his lips curling into a confident smile. "Let Caius try all he wants," he replied confidently. "He knows I'm not the kind of man who runs."

Alex looked impressed and terrified at the same time but nodded. And without another word, Adrian continued on his way, ignoring the whispers and wary glances following him.

The normal folk in Revernus Town were of no concern, but Caius' spies were another matter. He spotted two lurking in a shadowed alley, and they quickly crouched out of sight when they noticed him looking their way. It didn't matter, though—Adrian had a destination in mind, and he wasn't going to be stopped.

Revernus Town was small, yet full of travellers and merchants.

After walking for nearly ten minutes, he turned on the northeast corner of town, where the warehouse district was. It was a pretty active area; it was a commercial centre for traders who pass by this place to go inside Kruger's interior.

It was established by the mayor of the town, Marlo, as a business district, where he had leased spaces where traders would occasionally store their commodities.

But Adrian had a small warehouse for himself there, where he kept the fruits of the last raid.

But the last words Leo told him were that Tyro, on Caius' orders, had seized Adrian's warehouse and caught several of his men, including his own right-hand man, Kuro. This was why he had gone to the warehouse district. Adrian's face grew darker.

When he got there, two mercenaries of the Shadowborn stood at the gate. They stood straight and proper as he approached. And one of them finally stepped forward when Adrian drew near.

"Boss Adrian, uh, boss Tyro said not to let you through, "stuttered the guard, shifting uncomfortably.

Adrian's eyebrow shot up. He crossed his arms. "Kaylel," he said, calmly, "how many times have I pulled you out of trouble? Last year you would have been chained in a mine if I hadn't saved your neck. Now step aside."

Kaylel lowered his head, unable to argue. The second guard, Cyrus, looked ready to intervene, but Adrian's cold gaze silenced him. "And you, Cyrus. Who paid off your gambling debts last season?" he asked sharply. "Now you're standing in my way?"

The two guards looked at each other, looked away and stepped aside with a gesture to pass.

Adrian wasted no more time with them, turning and continuing forward into the warehouse district, his steps heavy and purposeful. He passed a few more patrols set up by Tyro, but none of them dared to stop him. At last, he reached his own warehouse, for which five mercenaries stood guard outside.

Unlike the others, these five didn't blink. They brought their arms closer, hands gripping weapons as they glared at Adrian. Their leader, half-orcish warrior Brandon, grinned, the axe nearly too big for him, as he hefted it. "Well, well, if it isn't Boss Adrian, come to pay us a visit. I don't think you'll be leaving this place today."

Adrian met his gaze without flinching, his tone calm but sharp. "Get out of my way, Brandon. I'm here for Tyro. Don't waste my time."

Brandon sneered, stepping forward. "You'll have to pay for that mouth, Adrian." With a roar, he charged, swinging his axe toward Adrian's chest.

Adrian didn't move to grab his sword. He instead stepped forward in the path of the charge, and caught hold of Brandon's wrist with a grip like a vice, as the axe came crashing down. Brandon's eyes went wide at the sudden halt to his swing.

Without a word, Adrian twisted Brandon's arm until the half-orc's wrist cracked sickeningly; Brandon's voice rose in a wail of pain but Adrian didn't let him go. He brought his knee up into the half-orc's belly, then scooped him up by the neck, lifting him off his feet.

In one smooth move, Adrian threw Brandon to the ground. The half-orc's head thudded on the stone floor, making a loud noise, as he contorted his face into a grimace of pain while blood ran from his nose down into his mouth.

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Brandon wasn't done. Adrian yanked Brandon's head back up again, slammed it viciously to the ground once more. Again and again, he pounded the half-orc's head into the dirt, slamming it a second and then a third time before Brandon finally stilled, his bruised and swollen face covered in blood pooling around his head, Adrian gripping him tightly before finally releasing him.

He rose and fixed a cold, unflinching glare at the remaining guards. The four mercenaries gazed back in shock and horror. Brandon was a good fighter, but they had always known Adrian was a better one. None of them made the same mistake again.

"Anyone else?" Adrian asked, voice low and eerily calm. The other guards averted their faces, not wanting to see him. They stepped back nervously as Adrian walked past them and kicked open the warehouse door.

Inside the dusty, wood-scented air, Adrian's voice echoed, "Tyro! Where are you? Get out here!"

It was rare enough to find a half-orc thief, but Tyro was some sort of exception. Most half-orcs inherited a simple, impulsive nature from their orc ancestors. Raw physical power was what these half-breeds were suited for: warriors, perhaps a few paladins. Stealth and patience? Almost unheard of.

Tyro, however, broke the mould. He was calculating, patient, and crafty-which, to a certain extent, made him more fox than orc.

His slyness proved very useful to him over the years, and his knack for being perpetually one step ahead earned him a rather rare spot as a trusted associate of Caius. And with cunning came caution also; no matter the ambitions he might have held deep within, Tyro was often wary and hesitant when it came to direct confrontation.

From the second floor on a platform overlooking the warehouse, Tyro had seen everything that had led up to Adrian's entrance and his lightning-fast takedown of Brandon. For all his ruthless reputation though, Tyro couldn't help but get a chill watching Adrian's brutal efficiency.

He had known Adrian to be one of the most powerful fighters in the mercenary corps, perhaps in all of Revernus Town. But he had never seen Adrian harness his strength as he had there.

That display brought Tyro to his senses. For a moment, he wondered if choosing to support Caius over Adrian was not the right decision after all. But a memory flashed in his mind: the promise by Caius - wealth, power, rank. All that was required for him to keep his resolve steady was that reminder: the rewards Adrian would never give which Caius promised him.

He stepped out of the shadows, took a deep breath, and called down. "Brother Adrian, too long it has been!" He spoke in a light, friendly tone. Tyro's half-orc features were sharp, and his attempt at a smile was as practised as it was forced.

Adrian could see right through him. He didn't need sharp senses to look through the friendly mask. "Enough," he said bluntly, his voice low and menacing. "Cut the small talk, Tyro. I will ask once— where is Kuro?"

Pretending to be amazed, Tyro flung out his arms. "Kuro? Brother, he's not here. I'm just following orders, checking up on the regiment's supplies."

"Cut the act," snapped Adrian, taking a step forward. His tall figure seemed to cast an elongated shadow over Tyro. "This warehouse is mine. Goods inside are mine. Kuro was entrusted with protecting them for me. And you come in here, steal my stuff and lock my men. Do you think you have the right to do this simply because you're hiding behind Caius?"

Tyro winced but continued, "Brother Adrian, you are mistaken," he said politely. "I am merely doing as is demanded of me. Caius had me check the inventory from your last raiding—

"Fox ass, shut up!" Adrian cut him short, voice filled with barely restrained anger. "WHY do I have to ask again and again, where is Kuro?"

Tyro's practised smile quivered. He knew he had no choice but to submit. "Okay," he said, glancing aside. "Kuro is in the back storage room."

He turned and walked down the aisle of the warehouse to the rear. Tyro's men shifted uncomfortably before him, but no one could meet his gaze. The angry glance Adrian shot them sent them scurrying from his path.

Tyro watched over Adrian's back, grinding his jaws hard with resentment. He was making a small gesture toward the shadows and moving some of the people into the darkness where their forms became one.

Adrian stepped deeper into the warehouse. Tyro observed closely, hoping that the ambush would occur. He brought with him four of his finest assassins—thieves trained for stealth and surprise attack. Knife-wielding men who used to strike from blind spots, they could prove murderous if presented with the right circumstances. Posted around Adrian, they crept forward hesitantly, steeling themselves for an orchestrated attack.

Just in time, Adrian's stance shifted to include the assassins who had stepped forward. In a reaction almost otherworldly, he dodged to the side, sidestepping back from their blades with very unexpected agility.

He'd drawn his sword, and struck out in one motion catching one of them off guard. The assassin stumbled backward, wounded before he had even the slightest chance to react. Down to three.

The other three realised that their initial attack had failed and rallied in closer to overwhelm Adrian with a direct assault. Tyro sat at his platform frozen in disbelief. He hadn't thought that anyone, least of all Adrian, would sense the ambush in time.

Adrian was not fazed by the serious expression he was meeting because he dodged another sword strike and rushed forward with high speed, and a second assassin fell backward clutching his wound as blood splashed around him.

The other two thieves made their move to close in. Adrian sidestepped one, with a fluid and sharp movement. The other blade almost slashed but Adrian's hand shot out to ensnare the thief's wrist with an iron grip. Turning his body, he disarmed the assassin, his own dagger clattering to the ground. In the same motion, Adrian finished the attack, leaving the stunned thief where he lay.

Only seconds had passed. It was all over. The battle was over. Adrian stood calmly between the bodies of his attackers, deep breaths, face untouched by the chaos. He turned around, looked up at Tyro, his eyes narrowed, unforgiving.

"A bunch of amateurs," he muttered, shaking his head.

Tyro's bravado was broken. He had counted on his trained ambushers to overwhelm Adrian but instead they were immobile and he helplessly watched Adrian slowly, carefully make his way back towards him. Each step made Tyro realise the weight of those choices he had made.

Adrian said not another word to the ambushers. He turned away while Tyro looked over at him from above, then walked deeper into the warehouse towards the room where supposedly Kuro was held. The few mercenaries left nearby gazed over at him and then immediately averted their gazes unwilling to meet him now after what they'd just seen.

Behind him, Tyro gritted his teeth, resentment apparent in his eyes as he watched Adrian's back disappear deeper into the warehouse. His gaze flickered to the remaining men who seemed to hesitate, unnerved by Adrian's power and unshakeable confidence. There was no looking back for Adrian.

He said his piece, and he knew Tyro heard him. He stood up straight, continued walking with purpose, steeled himself for what may lie ahead and with intent to recover his men and settle the score.