The figure stepped into the light, and Alfraed's breath caught. The man was tall, his crimson hair catching the sunlight like molten fire, his eyes a deep, striking red that seemed to pierce through the haze of the Demon Country's air. His horns curved upward in an elegant arc, polished to a gleam that caught the light like burnished metal. His attire was simple yet elegant, the kind of effortless grace that made Alfraed suddenly aware of his own outfit and the missing left arm that had never bothered him before. The man moved with a confidence that seemed to command the very air around him, his presence magnetic.
Mikaela's hand brushed Alfraed's arm, pulling him forward. "Come," she murmured, her voice soft but firm. Alfraed followed, his single eye fixed on the man as they approached.
