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“I thank you.” Answered the being as he took a step into the room with a small smile.
The being that was TalOS was something many would argue was not a man. Walking into the room he could easily be described as the size of a Titan compared to a Knight. In the moments Alexander looked upon the man that was the feeling he got.
But he was not really afraid besides the size.
The Sanctus Dominus was wearing the standard gard of the Mechanicum, a black steel robe that many would claim to have been a simple black. The eyes of Alexander had been trained though as he recognized the color to be much closer to adamantium than anything else.
As he came to the side of Prince’s bed he gave a courteous bow in acknowledgement. A simple gesture that one would give to an equal or lesser. It was likely the Blackstone Fortress or his injuries, but Alexander could not really tell which was which.
Though would he complain about being the lesser of the Sanctus Dominus? The one who many of his own vassals claim to be a prophet? The answer is simply no. How infact can he complain about being lesser to a man who he took orders from.
Maybe it was a moment of dishonor, but his Father wished for Alexander to learn from him. So he would.
“I must apologize, Prince Alexander, but the warboss has permanently claimed the life of Navaros Dominus. While we could attempt to return your steed to operation, it will be debilitated.”
The prince looked upon his arm as he strained it, “Was there at least a miracle?”
“The Thunderstrike Gauntlet has been recovered from the Questorus Knight.” Answered the Priest as he gave a subtle wave of his hand, “It was a magnificent weapon to have stayed operable for as long as it had.”
“So his hand has stayed operable?” Asked the Prince with a sense of wonder.
“I understand you are referring to Atlas?” The Tech Priest correctly hypothesized as he gave a sure nod, “You are correct.”
With those words the Prince relaxed, “In the name of House Navaros, I thank you.”