4

The eyes were something that any being, no matter how powerful, couldn't change. The eyes of the young man had blood-red pupils that planted themselves firmly in the center of the iris as though an indestructible pillar. While that alone was an anomaly, the young man's irises seemed almost infinite. They appeared to be the deepest black imaginable, the curious thing was the occasional specks of light flickering within the boundless sea of black.

The lightning dragon seemed lost in the young man's eyes as it was caught mid-thought.

The young man spoke with a deep voice, but full of vitality and naivety, "will this suffice, little lizard?" The young man took a brief moment to familiarize himself with this new appearance and felt himself in various places.

The lightning dragon coughed and shook itself out of its trance and spoke to the young man, "a perfect disguise, young master. Your eyes stand out and are something extremely uncommon, but that is something that can be glossed over as a unique bloodline." The lightning dragon quickly explained.

The lightning dragon had changed himself into the appearance of a grizzled warrior. He had donned some kind of minimal plate armor along with an eyepatch. His new appearance stood not much taller than the young man but was significantly more muscular. His rippling muscles had the occasional scar and were thoroughly tanned. The middle-aged man had a strong jaw and eyes that radiated battle intent. This middle-aged man also had black hair, but the cut was quite short giving him the look of a standardized military man.

The young man finished feeling and getting used to his new look and spoke to the middle-aged man, "what sort of attire would be best for our journey? I would prefer something that isn't gaudy yet I do not wish to be looked down on." The young man seemed to be struggling with this quandary.

The lightning dragon thought for a moment before he spoke, "how does young master fight? Do you have a preferred weapon, perhaps one you just have an interest in?" The lightning dragon also seemed to not know a definite answer to the young man's question.

The young man searched his mind for something that had caught his interest before settling, "there are a few that I've always found interest in, but they simply do not suit my preferred form of attack. A safe bet would be a sword, but they are unbelievably common. Daggers, spears, blades, staves, etc. They all seem to lack an element of fun and all feel too serious." The young man had obviously been considering this for a while due to his father explaining to him that one cannot always rely on brute strength, no matter how powerful you may be.

The middle-aged man's eyes lit up and beamed at the young man, "have you ever considered gauntlets, young master?"

The young man rolled his eyes and replied, "of course I have. Father told me that I cannot only rely on my strength, as such I gave up on the idea the moment I saw them." The young man spoke with a sigh.

With a grin pulling on the corner of his mouth, the middle-aged man probed the young man, "do you, by chance, not know of hand techniques, young master?"

The young man snorted, "of course I know of them, they are simply brutish techniques using only power." The young man seemed to be getting annoyed with the middle-aged man's roundabout way of answering him.

The middle-aged man chuckled and spoke to the young man, "forgive me, but you are sorely mistaken, young master. Hand techniques are not so simple. They are a way to take the body's power and more efficiently release it." The middle-aged man raised his nose into the air at knowing that this Great One did not.

The young man appeared to be lost in thought as he spoke to himself, "perhaps that is what Father wished to convey. I have been a fool, I must carefully think before making such big decisions." The young man looked at the middle-aged man and spoke, "thank you, little lizard. If not for you I would be lost to this answer for quite some time."

The young man proceeded to reach his hand into the void once more and retrieved an item, "this Smite Stone contains lightning essence on a similar path as your own. Be sure to refine it when you get the chance, you may even become powerful enough to apply as a messenger servant for the will of this universe. I wish you luck, little lizard." The young man passed the stone over with a smile on his face.

The middle-aged man could feel the immense energy radiating from this simple looking stone as he received it, "such a gift... I am unworthy, young master." The middle-aged man spoke with a cracking voice.

Scratching his head, the young man spoke in playful irritation, "just keep it, I have never taken a gift back once it has left my hands. Use it well, little lizard."

The middle-aged man began to bow, a perfect 90-degree angle was formed as he spoke, "I will be sure to serve you well once my strength is enough, young master. This humble one will not betray the kindness you have shown me on this day." Tears could be seen dripping from the edges of his tightly closed eyes.

The young man's expression softened, "no need to bow, little lizard. This prince cares not for such formal gestures. I much prefer simple words and direct answers." With a light smile, the young man waved his hand.

From the void, numerous books emerged along with a simple yet daunting pair of gauntlets. The books all had one thing in common--they were to be performed with one's hands. The gauntlets, however, were the main object of curiosity.

The gauntlets, although simple in appearance, were made of the rarest material in existence; The Shell of Chaos. The young man's father had said he made these for him after his great battle that lead to the birth of the Infinite Realms.

With a light smile, the young man donned these simple black gauntlets. clenching his fist the young man proceeded to peruse the hand technique books with his Sight.

As if he had understood something, the young man slowly transitioned into a simple boxing stance and lightly threw his fist out in a jab. No sound was made, but if one was adept in observation they would see the minute ripples of reality trembling before the might of the young man's fist.