Step.
The muscular man stepped forward, his torso covered in a white chestplate made from cut pieces of iron. It wasn't armor meant to protect, but the unusual Arc that gave him complete control over his golden flame, capable of rivaling even Zargos in his current form.
The only one who had not yet summoned his Arc was Morok, but he was not going to wait. Zargos had shown that every second against him would be costly.
"So you're proud of your fire, are you?" Morok chuckled. "Alright, then it's my duty to show you that even the brightest light is nothing against darkness!"
With a tremor of space, an amulet appeared in Morok's grasp, the head of a monster resembling a cross between a dragon and a lion, frozen in a wild roar, with bared fangs and a broken horn.
Clutch.
Morok clutched the amulet tightly as it made its way to his neck, remaining there.
