Just as the words left his mouth, the mist in front of him stirred unnaturally. It coiled and condensed, not in the shapeless way it had done before, but with a strange grace—deliberate and focused.
From it emerged another warrior… but this one was different.
Unlike the previous mist warriors, who had all been vague humanoid shapes, undefined by race, age, or gender, this figure was clear.
He stood tall, clad in traditional flowing robes that fluttered faintly despite the stillness of the air. His long white hair cascaded behind him like strands of snow, and his bearing was regal—composed like a swordsman who had seen countless lifetimes.
He looked… human. Except for one thing—his eyes. Or rather, the lack of them. Where his eyes should have been, there was only shadow, an unknowable void that neither reflected light nor emotion.
