In a dark, obsidian-walled room, Veer's eyes snapped open. A gasp of pain tore from his throat as he vomited a mouthful of blood, his face a ghostly white.
"This?!" he rasped, clutching his chest:
"Such a powerful man... How can such a person reside in the lower world? And that kid..."
KNOCK!! KNOCK! KNOCK!
A knock at the door pulled him from his thoughts.
"Come in," he called out, wiping the blood from his lips.
The door creaked open, and an old man with a hunchback and a gnarled walking stick entered. Dressed in a faded mage robe, he meticulously avoided the small pool of blood on the floor.
"You met him?" the old man asked, his voice a low, gravelly whisper.
Veer's eyes widened in disbelief. "Met him? You know that guy?!"
The old man snorted. "Know him? We killed his parents." He tapped his walking stick on the ground, a palpable aura of a second-order bursting forth.
"I thought when he destroyed his cultivation, he was as good as dead."
