"Greetings, Tristan," the voice echoed through the air, causing everyone else present to freeze in place. "We meet again. And I must admit, you look much better than before."
Facepalming, Tristan shook his head and said, "Don't give me that crap. You didn't really care about my appearance before."
"Oh, but I did." The voice sounded amused. "I just didn't tell you. That way, I could make sure you stayed alive."
"Well, thank you for making sure I didn't die," Tristan said sarcastically, "but I doubt anything would've happened anyway. After all, I'm not exactly a big fan of dying."
He glanced at the guards, then at his group, who looked at him in confusion.
'They can hear the figure's voice, but they can't see it,' he thought to himself. 'What does that mean?'
"Th... The the Dungeon Master," Adora explained to him quietly. "It doesn't have any physical form."