Setpus notices his partner tensing up and changes his pose to a more welcoming one. While he and his partner argued a lot, even for Inquisitor standards, he didn't like angering him. Though Rickards question came as a surprise to Septus, he wasn't entirely caught off-guard. He himself had also thought of his brash action after all. "Both." He answered with certainty. "Had we taken too long, some might... would have escaped and spread their filthy lies elsewhere. That was a risk we couldn't take. You heard what the prisoner said. They hide in plain sight. Normal peasant by day, blood drinking cultist by night." He places the tops of his fingers together and shakes his head. "Are the lives of some peasants really worth endangering Letalé and the rest of the Kingdom to you?"

As Septus awaits Rickards answer they get approached by some knights in black armor. On their shoulders is clearly the sigil of the Inquisition shown. Black Knights. The Inquisitions muscle. Raised from children to be the best fighting force in the Kingdom, they could overcome any obstacle. But that was really all they were good for. Investigation and subtlety was an Inquisitors job while these guys could only kick a door down or cleave someones head off in one go. 
Septus looks at the knight. He can clearly sees his rank. Sergeant. "To what do we owe the pleasure, sergeant? I doubt you came here for a chat and some wine like most of us."