A few minutes earlier, several miles away, another confrontation brewed.
The scarred-faced grand magus, Khadeth, third brother of the Brotherhood, stormed into the clearing, his crimson robes trailing dark mist in his wake. His single good eye burned with fury the moment it landed on the young woman with silver hair—Shinta—and the glittering, violet centipede wrapped gently around her forearm.
"That's not yours! Give it back!!" Khadeth roared, voice cracking through the stone walls like a thunderclap. "and... Where is my stupid brother!?"
Shinta didn't flinch. Her poise was calm, deceptively soft, as though she were merely entertaining a tantrum from a child. Inside, however, her heart drummed with restrained purpose.
Another one of the Brotherhood elders… good.
She had managed to draw out the one she needed—the one who could get her closer to saving her poisoned aunt, Annara.
