Under the dark starry sky, a massive old tree stood unmoved. Below each branch hung strands of vine, and at the end of each vine was an oval fruit in various colors, resembling eggs, trembling slightly.
On one branch, a man in a black robe was meditating and cultivating. His hair was as white as snow, falling loosely, and his forehead had a vertical slit. His skin was pale without a trace of blood, and his long robe, like willow catkins, floated in the wind. Three tails hung beneath his green robe: one resembling a dragon, another a serpent, and the third like a lion.
Suddenly.
The man in the black robe opened his eyes, his brows furrowed, his eyes flashing with suspicion.
He instinctively raised his hand to cover his chest.
"What's going on, what is this feeling?"
The man in the black robe murmured to himself, his tone filled with confusion.
He began to cast a spell, the vertical eye on his forehead opened, moving left and right, as if searching for something.
