The air rippled, a distortion in the cave's humid atmosphere that signaled a shift in the very fabric of the encounter. Then, as if a veil had been torn away, the shadows lifted. Standing exactly where five goblins had been snarling just a heartbeat before was a figure unlike any Genevieve had ever seen.
The fight—if you could even call it that—had been over in an instant. In all her eight years training as a warrior, Genevieve had never seen something more beautiful and terrifying at the same time. There was no wasted motion, no dramatic flourishes. It was a terrifyingly pure expression of power and speed that defied the "rules" of the world she knew.
As the spray from the waterfall entrance settled, Genevieve didn't lower her dagger. She pressed her back against the damp stone, her eyes darting between the broken bodies on the floor and the man standing among them.
He was half-dressed in a roguish demeanor, tight leather boots and pants barely hiding the power in his massive, corded calves. His hair was damp from the cascade, and a sheen of water poured down a well-chiseled, ropey torso armored in Midnight Scales. Those scales were a bottomless, matte black, flecked with white specks that pulsed like distant stars.
Her gaze traveled up to a jawline that looked sharp enough to cut stone, finally meeting his shining, electric blue eyes. A blush crept up her cheeks as she realized he was watching her with a calm, predatory patience. A faint smile touched his lips as he realized she hadn't heard a word he'd said.
"I said," Gabriel repeated, his voice a low, resonant hum, "that the immediate threat has been neutralized. You can stop gripping that dagger before you snap the hilt. It's a waste of potential energy."
Genevieve didn't relax. "Who are you? And what do you want? Nobody in Eternium fights like that for free."
Gabriel's lips quirked, a sharp, knowing expression that sat dangerously well on his features. He stepped toward the goblin campfire, the light catching the damp sheen on his muscles.
"My father always said," Gabriel began, a devilish grin spreading across his face, "if you're good at something, never do it for free."
He let the wit hang in the air for a beat before his expression flattened back into the cool gaze of a strategist. "As for what I want: information. Specifically, the geography of this sector and the identity of the 'Apex' that forced a warrior of your caliber to hide behind a waterfall."
Genevieve spat blood onto the cavern floor. "A Wyvern. Blue-scaled, massive. It scattered my hunting party near the crags. I dove in here to lose it and ran straight into these runts. I've been holding them off for an hour."
Gabriel's eyes sharpened. "An hour. That implies a high capacity for sustained aerobic output. However," he looked toward the dark recesses of the cave, "I am not a fool. I do not hunt Tier-1 predators while running on an empty tank and a faulty map. We rest. We recover stamina. Then, I catch my bearings."