Daimon's gaze shifted upwards, following the sound of the deliberate applause that rippled through the hushed atmosphere of the training grounds.
His crimson eyes locked onto the source, a man standing on one of the ornate balconies that overlooked the sprawling arena.
The man was unmistakably an elf, his long, flowing greenish-silver hair cascading like a shimmering waterfall, and his emerald eyes radiating an air of elegance and keen intelligence.
But what truly caught Daimon's attention, setting this elf apart from the typical graceful physiques of his kind, was his physique—a bit bulkier and more robust, like a hidden strength beneath a veneer of grace.
As their eyes met, the elf's applause continued a measured cadence that resonated through the open space. His lips curved into a knowing smile, an enigmatic expression that hinted at depths of understanding beyond the ordinary.