Chapter 15: Foxes in Silk
Dax's grandfather studied him with a bright, knowing smile—eyes twinkling with ancient wisdom, yet sharp enough to cut through deception like sunlight through fog.
"My child…" he said softly, voice warm but laced with quiet insight. "The aura around you is certainly not that of the weak. Tell me—why do you need this man, when you have clearly found your own path?"
His gaze pierced deeper than flesh, deeper than mana—reaching into the very essence of soul and intent. He saw things even the gods often overlooked.
Dax smiled back—too casually, the expression slipping out before he could rein it in.
"As sharp as ever," he muttered aloud without realizing.
His grandfather's eyes narrowed fractionally.
Strange… this child speaks as though he knows me.
But he has never met me.
He chose silence, opting to observe rather than confront—for now.
His attention shifted to the man beside Dax—the one who had introduced himself as Dax's master.
