Chapter 663: Buying clothes and swords
The streets of Darion were still crowded even that morning. The sun stread through the stone rooftops, illuminating the flow of people moving between stalls, shops, and taverns. The city teed with voices and slls: spices brought from the southern routes, freshly tanned leather, heated iron, and the excited chatter of those who spoke only of the “Tournant of Phoenixes and Dragons” that was about to begin.
Amidst this crowd, two walked as if they were part of it. A man and a woman, unhurried, simple clothing, calm steps. Nothing about them drew attention. They were just two ordinary faces in a sea of faces.
Samira adjusted the gray cloak she wore around her shoulders and cast a discreet glance at Strax. Her amber eyes shone with satisfaction. “I admit… that was a clever move,” she said, with an almost amused smile. “Cutting off the circulation of mana in the body. You really did manage to erase our presence.” Now we look like…” She gestured around, pointing to the peasants, artisans, and rchants. “…just like any ordinary human.”
Strax, walking beside her with his hands tucked into the pockets of his black kimono, chuckled softly. “Hm.” His lazy smile widened. “‘Erase’ is too strong a word. Let’s just say… I just tied the chain. Our mana is there, trapped, circulating slowly.” He touched his nose, tilting his head. “But if I send the energy up here, right next to our sense of sll… the seal breaks, and it flows full force again.”
Samira arched an eyebrow. “So we’re technically masked, but not defenseless.”
“Exactly.” Strax shrugged. “It’s like holding your breath underwater. It’s a little tiring at first, but you get used to it.” And the effect…—he smirked, looking at the crowd that passed them without more than a distracted glance. “Worth every second.”
Samira followed the movent of the street. No one noticed them. No one looked away, as they did whenever Strax entered a village, or when she let out even the slightest spark of the power she carried. For the first ti in weeks, they were invisible. Part of the crowd. And for so reason, that amused her.
“You actually look handso like a normal human,” she teased, chuckling.
Strax tilted his head, glancing at her sideways. “Handso?” His smile sharpened. “I think you’re starting to fall in love again.”
She laughed, shaking her head. “I’ve never stopped being.”
The two of them walked in silence for a few monts, crossing a stone bridge that led to the arts district. There, the atmosphere was different: less noisy, more refined, filled with ateliers, tailors, and artisans displaying expensive fabrics and intricate cuts.
Samira stopped in front of a window where a mannequin displayed a red tunic sewn with gold details. Her eyes sparkled. “This place is perfect.”
Strax followed her gaze, calmly assessing the garnt. “Would you like to trade that rchant’s rag for silk?”
She smiled. “I want to look beautiful when I crush those toy ‘dragons.'”
He opened the door and entered first. The bell hanging above jingled. The studio was spacious, lit by skylights, slling of perfu, soft leather, and chalk dust. An elegant woman with her hair tied in a bun rose from the sewing table and greeted them with a professional smile.
“Welco. Looking for sothing special?”
Samira wasted no ti. “I want new clothes.” Strong enough to fight, beautiful enough to make everyone do a double take.
The tailor smiled, already understanding the type of client she had. She led her to a rack filled with lightweight, durable fabrics and began suggesting combinations. anwhile, Strax leaned against a column, crossing his arms and watching from afar, amused.
Samira tried on tunics, pants, belts, boots. Each ti she left the makeshift dressing room, she turned in front of the mirror and gave Strax an expectant look.
“This one?” she asked, showing off a fitted black leather jacket with red trim.
Strax scrutinized it, his golden eyes narrowed. “I like it. It looks like it’ll break necks… and hearts.”
Samira smiled with satisfaction. “Then this one.”
He didn’t want to change his style, but he let the tailor adjust a new black kimono with subtle embroidery on the sleeves. It looked almost identical to the old one, but with a more refined, tailored look.
When they finished, the woman brought the bill. Samira glanced at the paper, then looked at Strax, arching an eyebrow. “And how, exactly, do you intend to pay for this?”
Strax pulled a small bag of coins from his cloak and tossed it carelessly onto the counter. The clink of tal filled the room. “A rchant’s money.”
“Hadrian’s?” Samira crossed her arms.
Strax smiled, pleased with the question. “Let’s just say he gave a ‘gratuity’ after a small problem I solved for him.”
“Problem, is it?” That was more like a total loss. Good thing he liked that city.
“Yes, thank goodness.” Strax sighed theatrically. “Good thing the currencies on this continent follow the sa standard as ours.”
Samira narrowed her eyes, but couldn’t help but laugh. “Of course, thank goodness. We should have brought money from the mansion in Vorah.”
He smiled. “We would have lost everything in that world that my… Never mind.”
Strax broke his smile, and Samira noticed it and let it slide. She knew Strax was still thinking about that strange mother of his. But he wouldn’t let her talk about it or open up.
After leaving the workshop, they walked through the streets to the blacksmith’s district. The sound of hamring and the sll of heated iron were so intense they seed to vibrate in the air. They entered a forge where a burly man with a gray beard and arms as thick as tree trunks was working on a red-hot blade.
Samira scanned the weapons on display: swords, daggers, spears. Her hand hovered over a long, dark steel blade with a simple guard.
“This one,” she said.
The blacksmith watched her grip the sword and test its weight with quick movents. “Good choice. It’s sturdy and balanced.” He glanced at Strax. “And for you, sir?”
Strax walked calmly to a wall of heavier weapons. His golden eyes landed on a katana with a dark red scabbard. He removed it, examined the edge, and smiled. “This one will do.”
After so quick negotiations—and more coins spilling from the sa bag—the two erged with new weapons strapped to their waists.
Samira couldn’t contain herself. “You owe an answer. Where did all that money co from?”
Strax stretched his arms behind his head, walking as if the world were a playground. “I told you: the rchant gave a good amount. But don’t worry. We’ll have plenty more soon.”
“Much more?”
“Yes.” He smiled. “Rogue is setting up a guild. It’ll be our economic arm. Missions, contracts, hunts. The gold flow will be constant.”
Samira blinked in surprise. “So we’re already thinking about economics?”
“Of course.” Strax looked at her with that dangerous calm. “Conquest isn’t just about killing and crushing. It’s also about controlling routes, food, weapons, information. Rogue’s guild will be the key to establishing power here.”
She laughed softly, shaking her head. “Yeah. I should have known you’d already thought of that.”
“I always do.” He winked mischievously. “But with you, it’s more fun.”
They walked down the street, blending into the crowd, now with new clothes and sharp weapons, but still invisible, like re citizens.
Samira sighed deeply, looking around. “You know… I never thought I’d enjoy walking like a normal human.”
Strax laughed, looking at the two reflected in a shop window. “I think it’s funny. Two monsters walking among the people, and no one suspects anything. It’s almost… poetic.”
Samira ran her hand over the hilt of her new sword, her eyes shining. “I can’t wait for the tournant.”
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