"This… is mine?"
"It is, My Lord," Ark said, his voice reverent. "The sole Leviathan Armour Set. Forged from the combination of Dwarven and Elden Ore. It weighs 1,500 kilograms. It's stronger than the Guardian Armour tenfold. With this, you'll be unstoppable on the battlefield. Unless you cross paths with an ancient-ranked mage or knight, you'll be a walking fortress—an unbreachable citadel clad in steel."
While Ark spoke, Asher's hand slid across the cold blade resting beside the armor rack. He lifted it fluidly, the long blade singing as it left its sheath. He tested the weight with a slow upward arc, then twirled it with precise grace. Not even a whisper escaped his lips, but his eyes gleamed with satisfaction.
"Perfect balance," he finally murmured. The words weren't loud, but Nero, ever watchful, heard them.
He struck a few more cuts through the air before lifting the round shield, its polished surface without a scratch. Then he adjusted his stance and called out.
"Nero."
