The crimson figure stood in the wind, draped in heavy iron armor. The silver-white armor was inlaid with gold-threaded patterns, and red mane extended backward from the helmet like long hair, draping over the back. When a breeze blew past, they swayed, like floating fireworks.
Upon seeing the man's arrival, the servant on the side saluted, speaking with reverence.
"Lord Glyain."
"Glyain? It's been a long time since anyone called me that," the man said, his eyes revealing a troubled expression. Then he said, "Call me the Sixth Seat... or the Red Dog. I prefer this name over Glyain."
The servant gazed at the man's bright, blazing form, thinking that perhaps Red Lion was more fitting for the man than Red Dog.
"His Majesty awaits you."
The servant bowed and cleared the path, and the iron-armored soldiers guarding the area lifted their crossed long halberds. Under the massive archway, the gray-white stone steps layered upward.
