A commanding presence that made the entire dungeon seem smaller arrived. A man with black hair, just long enough to brush over his hidden eyebrows, framed a face both striking and cold.
He was tall and broad-shouldered, with fair but healthy skin, and he had a body built for battle and a gaze sharp enough to freeze anyone in place.
His violet eyes, intense and unblinking, radiated an untouchable air of authority, making it clear he did not need words to dominate a room.
He was handsome in a way that felt distant and dangerous.
That was how the book would probably describe the appearance of this person. I knew he had an important role in this world, not just an extra.
It was like when you read a comic and a handsome or pretty and remarkable character appeared, you should expect that they were part of an arc or something significant, and how ordinary and forgettable the faces of the two guards who followed the man from behind were meant that they were extras.
