My Amulet

Once the door was firmly locked, Damocles turned to Ashur and said fiercely, “So, Astraea doesn’t know that you’re a little thief, huh?”

With the drawn curtains and closed door, the brightly lit room suddenly darkened significantly, giving off an ominous atmosphere. A chill ran down Ashur’s spine.

If anything happened to him now, no one would be able to save him before it was too late.

“Sir...Sir, what do you mean?” Ashur said, stuttering in confusion at this outrageous accusation. He never stole anything and had no idea what the old Master was talking about.

“You feign ignorance well,” Damocles remarked with a smirk on his face. “Who taught you so well?”

Ashur remained silent. He didn’t see a need to entertain the old Master’s taunts. That would only egg him on further.

Pointing at the amulet around Ashur’s neck, Damocles asked, “If you didn’t steal it, where did you get that amulet from?”