Even after everything he had displayed so far. This man was still looking down on him.
Ranulf was on his knees whereas Fern stood tall in front of him, offering to tell him his weakness.
—It frustrated him.
Someone so much younger, pitying him like that really infuriated him. It was the same as spitting on his pride as an assassin, even more than that. As a man.
"You bastard!"
His rage flared up and Fern leapt back as shadows coiled around Ranulf. His whole frame was engulfed from head to toe in darkness. It swirled around him for a bit then thickened and molded itself into a suit of armor.
The very essence of the night had shaped itself into protective plates that curved over shoulders, arms, legs, and face, not even an inch of him was exposed. In his hand, a long shadowy lance materialized.
" [Gloomsmith: Dark Knight] "
