A young man in his early twenties silently moved across a rocky path, his presence indistinguishable from the swirling darkness that flowed like a stream around him.
His face bore no blemish, each feature sharp and precise, as if chiseled from stone to embody a warrior's ideal. His eyes, twin pools of darkness, remained calm and vigilant, betraying nothing of thought or intent.
He towered at nearly six and a half feet, his frame forged in discipline, muscle honed for function rather than display. Black armor embraced his form like a second skin, while a loose cloak whispered against him, lending an austere air.
It was Alex, currently climbing the Inhetor's peak, the highest summit in the Ancestral Realm and the very heart of the Drakaryx clan.
At its crown stood the throne of their clan master, the one known as 'The Inheritor'. And right now, step by steady step, Alex was climbing toward it, climbing to meet the Hegemon himself.
