The Black-Armored Swordsman's sudden questioning, which all but laid his cards on the table, completely derailed Amicali's original train of thought.
When Renato saw the almost imperceptible twitch at the corner of the gray-haired swordswoman's mouth, he knew his earlier deductions about her identity had been entirely correct.
Nor did Amicali have a monopoly on this aggressive negotiating trick of "fishing" by almost volunteering information. Renato was merely giving her a taste of her own medicine.
Noticing her expression freeze and her psychological defenses begin to loosen, Renato immediately pressed his advantage. He stepped closer, forcing this worshipper of Bane to retreat a step, then continued to pressure her with his words:
"So, Lady Amicali, after I crippled the Flaying Grand Duke by taking out his first mate and third mate, slaughtered an entire shipful of undead monsters, and crushed Myrkul's mage in his own lair, you still intend to come to White Harbor and challenge my position?"
"No, Sir Renato, I think you've misunderstood..."
"Or do you intend to avenge those incompetent allies of yours? Those pirates were utter fools, without a shred of discipline. To tell you the truth, if they hadn't wantonly ravaged White Harbor for their own selfish gain, even set their sights on me, and deliberately revealed your identity before they died to warn me, I wouldn't have bothered with your plans at all..."
"Stop. Unless you want a fight, don't come any closer, Sir Renato!"
As Renato advanced step by step, the space Amicali had to retreat into steadily shrank.
Her boot heels splashed through the standing water, and her back was almost touching the half-collapsed wall.
Just then, Amicali's right hand tightened sharply around the hilt at her waist. A strand of golden light emerged from her palm, instantly filling the gap between