The sudden appearance of the young man with shock-red hair acted like a circuit breaker, instantly severing the tension that had gripped the training hall. The shouting and the clattering of wooden swords died away, replaced by a heavy, skeptical silence from the women of the Fallen Rose.
Doubts began to ripple through their ranks like a dark tide. From the moment they had entered the Fortis Group building, they had been begrudgingly impressed. It was rare for any organization, even those established at the Syndicate level, to maintain such a massive, polished presence in the dead center of the city. To rise so quickly and command such a fortress, the Fallen Rose had imagined a leader who was a scarred veteran of a hundred street wars, a man whose very face told a story of brutal experience.
What they were seeing now didn't match the math.
