"Bastard," the red-eyed slave threw a punch at Mr. Valen, his fist flashing with the unnatural strength of a red-eyed Wizard, but he was evaded without issue.
The red-eyed slave was tall and broad-shouldered, his knuckles scarred from years of brutal enforcement. His face was a bit rough, but he looked sharp.
'Who is this man?' the slave thought to himself, wondering what reward he would receive for turning him in.
With a grunt, he lunged again, his fist a blur as the air tore, but the masked thief, Mr. Valen, moved like a shadow, his body swaying just enough to let the strike whistle past his ear.
"Who are you?" the red-eyed slave snarled, pivoting into a crushing elbow aimed at Valen's throat, his breath shallow.
'He is much weaker than Cerberus,' Mr. Valen thought but did not answer.
Instead, he exhaled, his breath slow, controlled and his body relaxed into the violence, 'since he's so weak I can afford to test myself, minimize destruction.'
