Rothan Redshell sat in the grand hall of the Redshell Fortress.
His body stood over two meters tall, his skin a reddish-brown, and on his neck and both arms were patches of natural armor resembling scales. Over his body was a heavy suit of armor forged from Redshell Metal, each plate inscribed with black magical patterns.
Before him lay a communication crystal.
The image of the envoy that had just been transmitted had already vanished, but the final words still left the Lords in the room unable to hold back their laughter.
A bald Lord seated to his left said: "He really said he'd claim the Red Armor Gorge before nightfall?"
The person beside him gave a cold laugh: "Someone who just barely beat Kharos and Varek and now thinks he has no rival. Newcomers are always like this."
Rothan did not laugh loudly like they did.
