Blackwell leisurely descended the stairs, his form semi-transparent but solid enough to give him a distinct presence. His long, tattered robes fluttered as though blown by some unseen wind, and his face was a gaunt, deathly visage—like a decayed skull wrapped in pale, translucent skin. His eyes were pits of blackness, faintly glowing with a ghostly blue hue. A pale crown of mist circled his head like a dying halo.
Jacob impassively stared at the completely unfamiliar dark being in front of him. Despite Blackwell hiding his aura, Jacob could clearly sense danger from him. He didn't dare let down his guard.
After all, Jacob knew that Blackwell might be under the impression that he was also a dark being and a powerful one who could tread in these deadly lands. As for his intentions, whether they were pure or malicious, Jacob was ready for anything.
