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The Mysterious Mercenary Heiron

"I will join you as well."

My voice rang out, reaching Hector and Penthesilea, catching both of their attentions. They turned toward me, their eyes narrowing as they took in my appearance. Their expressions were a mixture of curiosity and suspicion as they assessed me from head to toe.

I had chosen my appearance carefully. My body was of average build, neither too imposing nor too slight. My face, handsome enough to be noticed but not so striking as to draw undue attention, was framed by simple armor—functional, but not ornate. I looked every bit the part of a wandering mercenary, a man with no particular allegiance or cause beyond his own survival. It was the perfect disguise.

I needed to fight alongside the Trojans without revealing my true identity as the Hero of Darkness. If word spread, it would only create unnecessary problems for Tenebria. Worse yet, it would draw the eyes of the Gods, and in this war, their attention was the last thing I needed.

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