When he turned around, he saw a colourless Nephilim man eyeing him calmly. Ambrogio looked back with no sign of terror. Some of the dark Nephilim had strong predatory instincts and attacked anyone or anything that showed fear. It was not that he couldn't kill a Nephilim if he wanted to; he might not be as strong as them, but he was fast enough and knew exactly how to attack. But his long existence had taught him that it was best to wait and to check out first whether an enemy could be of use.
"My lord."
His command of the ancient language may have been clumsy, but his movements were certain, when he pressed his left hand over his silent heart and bowed ever so slightly, the traditional greeting of a servant to a Nephilim master. He hoped the tradition went this far back in time.
"What are you?" the Nephilim asked, not in a hostile manner, but clearly curious. "I have not seen anyone quite like you before..."
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