[Somewhere in the Ancient Battlefield]
Inside a metallic structure somewhere in the shattered valley, a man with skin composed entirely of metal sat on a throne-like chair, his green eyes piercing the distance. He isn't very muscular, but he is tall, very tall.
In fact, he would easily surpass 7 feet.
He had no hair on his head. Instead of hair, he has thousands of tattoos lining his bald head and his neck.
Standing below in various postures are seven individuals, each a warrior in their own right.
Clearly, they are subordinates of the man seated in the chair.
Well, calling him a man when he is made purely of metal is a long stretch. But then again, if men from the Metal Race or Metal Demons are referred to as men, then who is to protest this person being called a man?
A man's identity is relative to his physical appearance, and right now, he looks like a man.
