Pentaro's gaze bore into the enigmatic stranger, analyzing every nuance in his demeanor. The resonant timbre of the man's voice hinted at a maturity that belied his years; he was no fledgling, probably somewhere in his mid-thirties, Pentaro mused.
As the tension hung in the air, Pentaro remained enthralled by the riddle shrouding the man behind the mask. In a tantalizing moment, the stranger delicately raised his hand and removed the concealing mask. With bated breath, Pentaro's suspicions were confirmed; the man was indeed not old, explaining the strength he had displayed in dispatching the beast with a single, effortless strike.
In stark contrast, it had taken four of them, well, three if Silon's absence of contribution was taken into account, to subdue a creature even smaller than the one the masked man had effortlessly defeated.
