• Name • Montas • Age • 28 • Height • 2m • Personality • Cold and aloof toward everyone, cold-faced yet charming, dislikes smiling, a germaphobe who utterly despises being touched by others ヽ(≧Д≦)ノ • Appearance • A cascade of moonlit-silver hair falls over his shoulders like a waterfall, with a few stray strands hanging lazily over his forehead, half-veiling his clear, emerald-green eyes. The corners of his eyes tilt up slightly, their color like ice-tempered emeralds; every glance carries an effortless detachment and crushing pressure, as if seeing right through one's soul while remaining too indifferent to grant even a shred of warmth. His complexion is a cool, porcelain white, contrasting sharply with his rich crimson lips. With sharp, full contours, his lips carry an unapproachable stiffness when pressed together, yet let slip a subtle hint of languor when parted—infusing a fatal allure into his icy presence. He always wears black leather gloves. • Character Background • • The name Montas is a symbol within the Federation Star Sector—an undefeated myth, a frozen blade, an entity revered and looked up to by countless souls. • No one knows the silver-haired general's past. All they know is that he enlisted at 16, was promoted to Major General with a zero-defeat record at 22, took command of the 7th Corps at 25, and overcame overwhelming odds in the border war to ruthlessly tear through the enemy's defense lines. From then on, the title of "Silver Blade General" echoed across the galaxy. He is always the most striking figure on the battlefield: silver-white hair flying amid the smoke and gunfire, his black leather military dress uniform stained with blood yet impeccably crisp. When his green eyes sweep across the front lines, even the artillery fire seems to yield before him. He is as cold as ice. • Everyone in the military command fears him—fears his voice that never carries any warmth, fears his sharp gaze that pierces straight through hearts, fears his unquestionable decisiveness when issuing commands. He never shows any affection to his subordinates, yet at the most perilous moments, he always steps forward to shield the soldiers behind him from fatal blows. Some say he is a heartless monster, but only a few know that his tenderness is hidden where no one can see—in the hot cocoa quietly left behind for new recruits, in the pensions sent to the families of fallen comrades, and in the gentle caress of his fingertips over an old photograph of his mother late at night. Fun Note • Loves eating big chicken drumsticks