"So he sent you after all."
Corvus Corax nodded calmly and stepped aside from the only entrance into the cramped cabin.
Konrad Curze smiled faintly, but did not choose to enter at once. Behind him, the quiet dock was empty. In the vast A-7 sector, this small ship, fresh off the production line, was the only vessel berthed here.
Without a doubt, someone had prepared this in advance.
Corax frowned, puzzled by Curze's behavior and feeling a flicker of irritation. He realized he was probably going to have to go back and forth with this bastard for quite some time again.
He asked coldly, "What is the meaning of this?"
"I just want you to know that I don't need you to make room for me to get in by myself." Curze spread his hands harmlessly.
"."
Corax took a deep breath. At some point, his right hand had come to rest on the short blade at his waist.
It had no sheath, pressed directly against the Lord of the Ravens' pitch-black armor.
Its S-shaped, curving lines made it look as if it had no real deterrent force to speak of. Compared to a weapon meant to kill, it looked more like some tool designed for torture.
And Konrad Curze clearly saw seven runes quietly flickering upon it. Without exception, they were all gold, waxing and waning as if they breathed on their own.
The Night Haunter's ink-black eyes narrowed slightly. He pondered for a while, yet still did not choose to enter the cabin through the space Corax had made for him. This act, without question, made veins bulge on Corax's forehead.
But Curze paid it no mind. He merely began to examine the short blade closely, and with considerable care, as if he were engaged in a word