"Armor next," Death announced, already moving toward a different section. "Can't have you dying in the first real fight because you forgot to protect your squishy bits."
The armor section was even more overwhelming than the weapons. Leather, plates, chains, and other materials that Rhys couldn't identify filled countless racks and display cases. Some pieces glowed with enchantments, others seemed to drink in light, and a few appeared to be made from the hides of creatures that Rhys had never seen.
"Now, for armor, we need to consider your fighting style," Death said, circling Rhys like a tailor taking measurements. "You're not a tank, you're a speed fighter who uses magic to control your range. That means we want something light, flexible, provides excellent mobility, and won't slow down those pretty dagger strikes."
He pulled a set of dark blue armor from a nearby rack. The material looked like leather, but it shimmered with a magical sheen.
