In a dim basement, amid piles of discarded stone, stood a hunched old man in a black priest's robe, his eyes bright and piercing.
Age spots and wrinkles covered his face. His eyes bulged slightly, looking swollen and out of place on the rest of his face.
He was already a hundred years old. Normally, someone his age would either spend his remaining years bedridden or be on the verge of death, yet he still had strength and abundant energy to get things done. He hardly seemed like a centenarian at all.
He held a carving knife, a special item, and gently scraped a stone statue. Layer by layer, he shaved away stone dust, infusing it with emotion and power, making the statue otherworldly.
Suddenly, Lu Fa felt something watching him.
"Who's there?!"
Lu Fa looked up at the ceiling but saw nothing except its dim surface.
The old man knitted his brows, but his enormous eyes failed to convey any wariness. Instead, his stare only grew more uncanny.
"Who's there?" The old man put away his faded carving knife, his eyes widening into perfect circles. A sudden croak escaped his mouth, and a chorus of frogs immediately answered from the corners of the hidden room.
Frogs hopped over to him one after another, creating a powerful wave of mentally corrupting sound. Anyone present would inevitably be affected upon hearing it.
The old man walked over to the door and flicked the light switch. With a buzz, the bulb lit up, dispelling the gloom.
He looked at the ceiling again. Nothing was there.
There should have been something. He could feel a gaze with an extremely faint presence quietly spying on him from somewhere.
The ceiling was not where the gaze truly came from. Lu Fa quietly tried to sense