Grim stared at his opponent in front of him, his piercing amber eyes narrowing with predatory focus amid the isolated void that served as their battlefield, the distant stars twinkling like indifferent witnesses to the impending clash.
A young man stood there, wearing a dark cloak with a hood that covered a good area of his face, the fabric woven from shadows that seemed to absorb the faint cosmic light filtering through the spatial barriers.
From beneath the hood, faint locks of silver hair slipped free, swaying slightly in the subtle currents of manipulated air, their ethereal strands catching glimmers of starlight like threads of moonlight woven into reality.
His features, though half-concealed by the enveloping shadow of the hood, carried an almost regal sharpness, the kind that drew attention without demanding it, a subtle allure that spoke of ancient lineages and unspoken power.
