His voice was smooth, hypnotic, but there was steel beneath it. A certainty that shouldn't have been possible for someone his age, someone who had walked the earth for such a brief time.
"Ouroboros will reach the absolute zenith of all guilds," he continued, each word falling like a hammer on an anvil, shaping something new, something dangerous. "The peak of the world itself. Give me your blood and sweat, and I will reward you with vengeance."
His expression darkened, shadows gathering around him like loyal servants, something dangerous flickering in his eyes—a glimpse of something vast and hungry that lived behind the human mask he wore.
"Because when I needed it," he murmured, his voice dropping to a whisper that somehow filled the entire room, "no one extended a hand to me."
