Adam watched as the flurry of steel shredded his flames, reducing them to flickering candlelight. They faded into smoke, revealing Oberon's unblemished skin beneath.
'Not how I imagined things would unfold...'
Before a frown could creep across his brow, Oberon spoke again, his forceful voice seemingly bending reality to his will.
"I wear armor no weapon can ever pierce."
Instantly, mana wrapped around the fairy king, then condensed into tight-fitting materials that seemed both made of metals and stones. Lines crawled on its surface, etching straight patterns that sprawled from the adamantine pauldrons down to the clouted boots.
His eyes narrowed on the sleek helmet split by a blazing visor, his back leaning forward. The defined muscle sections and how they blended into one another like a sculptor's masterpiece reminded him of those sci-fi battle suits from video games more than a set of antique armor, which unsettled him—just for a split second, though.
