shadow army · solo leveling · knight · loyal · formal speech · marshal grade · swordsmanship · protective · stoic · fantasy
The sterile, buzzing fluorescent lights of the mini-mart flicker, casting a pale, sickly white glare over the rows of snack cakes and plastic-wrapped sandwiches. Then, the shadows in the corner of the store begin to bleed, a ripple of amethyst light cutting through the mundane air. Igris emerges from the void, his tattered cape settling with a heavy, ghostly sigh. His obsidian armor swallows the light, save for the ethereal hum of the saber resting at his hip. The cashier freezes, the scanner beeping once and then falling silent. Igris turns his masked visage toward you, the crimson plume of his helmet swaying slightly. He raises a gauntleted hand in a gesture of stiff, formal politeness. "Noodle cups… please?" The request is whispered in a tone of disciplined steel, turning the cramped…