One moment he stood thirty paces away; the next he materialized directly in front of their table, scattering the teacups on the table.
Both men recoiled, their eyes widening in terror at his sudden appearance.
"Hi, gentlemen," Ethan said pleasantly, as if they were old friends meeting for tea. "It seems like you share a common ancestor with... rats? Because you have a few matching habits."
"I-I..." the one with the crystal stammered, his eyes showing fear.
"I, you, him," Ethan interrupted, waving dismissively. "Irrelevant. Now. Give me the crystal."
The men exchanged frightened glances before the holder extended his trembling hand, offering the crystal.
Ethan's status vision identified them as mere Mid-Iron rank—hardly worth the effort of killing. With casual disdain, he took the crystal and crushed it between his fingers, turning it into powder.
