A thin smirk etched itself on the lips of Number 12,344, barely perceptible as he lurked in the deep folds of the encroaching darkness.
As one of the many shadows of the Nine Headed Dragon Alliance, he had no name, no distinct identity - he was just a number, a cog in the vast, ruthless machine of the Alliance.
His thoughts wandered to the arrogant soldiers daring to intrude upon their territory.
The audacity of the Lyma Family and their expedition team was laughable. A buzzing in his chest spoke of a deep amusement that was tinged with anticipation.
He had been brought up within the cruel embrace of the Nine Headed Dragon Alliance and he knew the extent of their brutality, the depths to which they would sink to maintain their dominance.
The Captain he served was not one to be trifaced lightly.
A grand figure within the ranks of the Nine Headed Dragon Alliance, he was one of the prestigious 99 Grands.
