He was a Tiger-Shark hybrid, but he made King Megalos look like a minnow. He was easily twelve feet tall, his body a roadmap of scars. He wore no armor, only a pair of tattered trousers. His muscles were so dense they looked like rocks beneath his grey skin.
"Wake up," Alvian said, his voice amplified by a mana pulse.
Moore didn't stir. He snored, a sound like a rock crusher.
Alvian frowned. "Inefficient."
He picked up a piece of scrap metal—a solid iron bolt the size of a human head. He didn't use a skill. He just threw it.
"CLANG!"
The bolt hit Moore's forehead. It didn't break the skin. It bounced off with a ringing sound.
Moore opened one eye. It was yellow, bloodshot, and filled with a killing intent that made the water turn cold. He sat up, scratching his head where the bolt had hit.
"Who throws trash at me while I nap?" Moore rumbled, his voice deep enough to vibrate Alvian's chest cavity.
"I am Alvian," Alvian stated. "I want to learn [Abyssal Rage]."
