"Are you… a half-elf?"
The question landed lightly.
But the effect it had was anything but.
For a brief moment, the surrounding experts turned almost in unison, their gazes snapping back to Michael as if they were only now truly seeing him.
Michael's long black hair had come loose at some point during the battle, no longer bound or restrained, flowing freely down his back in a dark cascade that reached past his shoulders. It was thick and smooth. His skin, though marked by dirt and dried blood, was unblemished beneath it. If anything, it was smoother than most elves present.
His features were sharp but balanced, neither overly human nor distinctly elven, resting in an uncanny middle ground. His eyes were a vivid green, carrying a vitality that felt… alive. There was something natural about him, something that made mana in the air subtly lean toward him without conscious intent.
It was subtle.
But to those sensitive enough, it was unmistakable.
Nature favored him.
