She was dressed like the others—standard armor, a cloak to protect against the dungeon's hostile environment—but there was something off about her, something that tugged at the back of Rynar's mind.
His eyes narrowed, and then it clicked. He knew who she was.
Rynar's face twisted in a dark sneer, and he purposefully shifted his gaze to the side, as though trying to hide his realization. But Leon caught the movement, the subtle flicker of recognition in the mercenary captain's eyes. It was clear that Rynar had identified someone—someone he hadn't expected to see.
Leon's curiosity piqued, and he subtly followed Rynar's gaze. His eyes fell on the woman, and he studied her for a moment. She had black hair, a beautiful face, and her eyes, purple with a fearsome glint in it.
She was standing still, her posture calm amidst the chaos, but there was something about the way she held herself that seemed too deliberate. Like she was trying too hard to blend in.
