'He's not backing down...'
Benard watched as Luke squared off against him in the narrow alley, the younger man's face hardened into a taunting smile.
The latticework of veins under his skin pulsed with some hidden energy, his eyes holding a glassy, almost ethereal gaze.
His voice had been quiet, almost eerily calm as he'd muttered, "Don't die."
Something about Luke's defiant stand made Benard's instincts scream warnings in the back of his mind, yet he had a duty to uphold.
With a stern face, Benard summoned his discipline, his mind centering as he declared, "Martial Arts: Iron-Blood Monk."
Azure energy roared to life around him, wrapping his body in an ethereal armor of light. It pulsed with his heartbeat, reflecting off the cobblestones and casting eerie shadows that danced upon the alley walls.
Luke merely watched, his grin never wavering.
He didn't seem to react to Benard's display of power, as if he knew all along, which sent a jolt of unease through the Guildmaster.
