The discussion of justice did not last long.
After all, apart from the young Andreia, everyone present already had their own views. The paladin Lectus clearly had his own creed, his convictions firm as a rock, while Renato and De Leon, who had weathered countless adventures, witnessed the treachery of human hearts, and often drifted through moral gray areas, cared little about the definition of justice itself.
Besides, treating a question that demanded a lifetime of practice as idle conversation in a dilapidated courtyard hardly seemed appropriate.
So when the brief debate ended, the blonde girl, with nothing left to say, shut her mouth and leaned silently against the corner of the wall, arms folded across her chest, watching the three men examine the pattern on the floor in the center of the room.
Her gaze occasionally swept over the run-down streets outside the courtyard, then shifted to Renato's profile, her lips pressed into a thin line.
Captain De Leon crouched at the edge of the array patterns and extended his right hand, his fingers hovering above the wavy lines as he slowly traced their course.
Renato stood beside him without rushing him. De Leon had extensive experience adventuring at sea and had seen all manner of bizarre ancient ruins. Perhaps he could identify something from the smallest details.
The captain's brow furrowed more and more deeply, as though he were struggling to recall something he had seen or heard. Only after quite some time did De Leon straighten his back, withdraw his hand to his knee, and speak in an uncertain tone:
"Waves, fangs, whirlpools... these images are very distinctive. I've never seen them before."
"Though I'm no mage, before I raised the money to build the Hispaniola, I spent a considerable sum to sit in on classes at