"Ww... What a pretty lady?" Alex whistled, his golden eyes gleaming under the dim red light.
He twirled a thin dagger between his fingers, its edge gleaming like liquid silver. "I can smell the treasures on you. You're quite rich, aren't you?"
Martina's eyes narrowed. Her grip tightened on her sword. "You talk too much," she said sharply.
The next moment, her blade flashed through the air. The strike was clean and sharp, cutting through the wind with a violent hiss. But instead of flesh, it met nothing.
Alex's figure blurred like smoke and vanished.
Martina spun around instantly. Her instincts screamed. She slashed again, aiming behind her. The blade tore through the air—but again, she struck empty space.
A faint chuckle echoed from her left. She turned just in time to see Alex leaning casually against a wall several meters away, holding something between his fingers.
