The marketplace was quieter now, but only on the surface. Beneath the echo of boots on wet stone, whispers carried through the alleys like poisoned threads, weaving a net of suspicion and betrayal.
Kael walked with his hood drawn low, every sense sharpened. The Syndicate's coins were still clinking in his pouch, their weight more dangerous than gold. Each one carried a message, each one a contract. Whoever had orchestrated the blood-soaked bidding war was no ordinary rival—they were baiting the underworld into open conflict.
"Too many eyes," murmured Lysandra beside him. Her blade-hand never strayed far from her hip. "Someone's tracking us."
Kael tilted his head subtly, catching the flicker of a shadow moving along the rooftops. Not just one—three. The daggers of the Syndicate. Silent, unseen killers, bound by oath and coin. They didn't stalk prey for long; when they moved, it meant death was already chosen.
A cold wind swept through the bazaar ruins. Then, like threads cutting loose from the dark, the assassins descended. No words. No hesitation. Steel against stone, sparks in the night.
Kael's sword caught the first strike, his arm jolted by the sheer force. The second blade whispered past his ribs, close enough to taste the edge. Lysandra spun into the chaos, her knives flashing arcs of silver.
But the Syndicate daggers weren't here to test them—they were here to warn. Every clash felt measured, every strike a message: You're walking into our war. Turn back, or drown with the others.
Kael gritted his teeth, deflecting another blow. "If this is a warning," he growled, shoving his attacker into a crumbling wall, "then they're wasting their breath."
The assassin only smiled—a thin, mirthless curve—before vanishing into smoke. The others melted with him, shadows returning to the heights as quickly as they had come.
What remained was silence, broken only by the drip of blood from Kael's arm where one blade had found its mark.
Lysandra wiped her dagger clean, eyes narrowed at the rooftops. "They're not trying to kill us yet. They're circling. Testing."
Kael tightened his grip on his sword, feeling the weight of the coins again."No," he said darkly. "They're inviting us in."
The night pressed heavier around them, and the whispers of the daggers followed with every step.