Atticus' cold gaze remained on the silver haired girl. He didn't know who she was, but her sudden fixation on him was something he had to get to the bottom of.
"What are you doing?"
A silver haired man appeared between them, his will bursting outward as it wrapped around him, cutting cleanly through the pressure Atticus had imposed.
The girl, who had been on the verge of collapsing to her knees, sucked in a sharp, ragged breath.
"B-brother…"
Relief filled her expression as she stared at him, but her brother wasn't looking at her. His fierce gaze was locked directly onto Atticus.
"What the hell do you think you're doing?"
His will flared violently, filling the space between them.
Despite the threat behind his words, Atticus didn't respond in words. He simply tightened his grip on the hilt of his katana, his silence speaking louder than any retort.
"No answer? Fine. Have it your way."
"Brother, wait!"
