Teeth as sharp as daggers, comparable to a sabertooth matching his size, white eyes slit like a feline.
"Meat," he muttered, digging his entire being into the flesh of the beast he had slain.
The warrior's armor was an intricate masterpiece of art and intimidation, fitting like a second skin and merging seamlessly with his form.
Crafted from a dark, lustrous metal that gleamed with an almost ethereal sheen, it seemed alive, shifting shades of deep gray and silver with every movement.
The armor adhered to his body as if it had been forged directly onto his flesh, hugging every contour of his lean musculature and accentuating the sleek, predatory lines of his build, making him appear like a lithe hunter poised to strike.
He sat at the edge of the cliff, not too far off from the elevator's door.
"How could they not have seen me? Did I hide my presence" He whispered, eyes wide. "Kaelan's back, Anna and Elara too," he continued under his breath,
A striking feature of the armor was a bold, silver mark resembling a dragon spiraling across his chest, winding its way toward his shoulders.
This vivid silver design contrasted sharply against the muted gray of his armor. The dragon's form, dynamic and fluid, added a sense of movement, as though the creature itself were coiling protectively around him.
His shoulders were shielded by high, curved pauldrons that rose gracefully, like the wings of a falcon in mid-soar.
"Ah, the meat isn't nice," he said, licking the blood off his fingers. "I'll try raugdran next." His voice was low, almost a growl, as he tossed aside the chunk of flesh and eyed the distant horizon.
The gauntlets, extending from the elbows to the fingertips, were a marvel of segmented plates designed for both protection and dexterity.
Each finger ended in sharp, claw-like tips capable of tearing through flesh or clinging to rough terrain. Barbed hooks ran along the forearms, glinting menacingly in the light.
"Raugdran's skin is really tough," he mused aloud, his pupils, already slit, becoming more fierce as his thoughts intensified.
"Maybe I'll hide behind a cliff like this one. And"—he paused, a vicious smile tugging at his lips—"leap."
Beneath the armor, visible at the joints and where the metal allowed for movement, was an underlayer of dark, flexible material, clinging to his body like a shadow. This underlayer was more than mere fabric.
The lower half continued the motif of deadly elegance. His thigh guards were streamlined to protect without restricting his mobility, leading seamlessly into knee guards that flared slightly.
The greaves bore ridges reminiscent of mythical scales, reinforcing his legs without adding bulk, and ending in boots designed for both battle and difficult terrain, gripping the earth like a predator's claws.
"Brother, could you help catch a wyrm? I haven't eaten it in so long, I'm feeling hungry," he called out, though it was unclear if anyone was truly there.
He continued to rip through the large chunk of flesh, a small fire beside him, which he seemed to used to roast the meat.
From his waist hung a long, tattered sash, dark and muted, blending almost seamlessly with his armor yet adding a dynamic fluidity to his otherwise rigid appearance.
The sash fluttered in the wind, as if animated by the same energy that fueled his every move.
"If they are here, the meeting should be over," he muttered to himself, glancing at the distant figures below. "And the quest will—" He paused, narrowing his eyes. "They didn't pick their guide?"
In his grip was a spear that felt like an extension of his own arm.
The weapon was perfectly balanced, with a shaft wrapped in supple, dark leather that offered a secure grip.
The blade split into two jagged prongs, each honed to a razor's edge and slightly curved to catch and tear through any defense.
Subtle engravings, mirroring those on his armor, adorned the prongs, hinting that the weapon and the armor were created as one,
The warrior's hair, long and wild, flowed down his back, white with strands of silver that caught the fading light like the polished edges of his armor. It framed a face that was both youthful and handsome.
Standing at the edge of the cliff, watching the heirs but a few feet away from entering the estate, with smoke rising from distant fires and the artificial sky bathed in the soft glow of the unknown sun, the warrior was a figure of haunting beauty and quiet terror—a shadow poised to pounce.
"They shouldn't have picked a guide yet," he repeated, this time with a wide grin spreading across his eerily perfect face.
"There are two people there that I don't recognize," he said, the grin fading as he sniffed the air. "But I notice the smell of that mage. Kaelan managed to get a mage—that's perfect. Anna."
Now clinging to the cliff, he focused on them a little too much, only his feet connected to the soil of the cliff, his predatory-like boots supporting the weight of his entire body, suspended in the air.
His right hand shielded his eyes to see clearly.
"I don't recognize that boy…"
Without a second thought, he left the meat he was ravishing and leaped, not using any skills, just pure physicality. Large dust clouds surrounded the area he left, the ground shattered behind him.
"What was that sound?" Kaelan asked, glancing at Leonardo, who was walking right beside him.
Leonardo turned slowly, eyes widening as he saw a figure rushing towards them at unforeseen speeds, his face distorted in a large grin.
"Not Altan, he shouldn't be here" Kaelan said, those words reverberating in Anna's ears.
"Oh fuck, run? No he's already here" Anna whispered, her heart racing.
Altan rushed towards them, the wind shattering around him as he neared, his spear still clutched tightly in his grip.
"Hi!" he screamed, his voice carrying an unsettling cheerfulness as he closed the distance.