The Merak Ruins are desolate, with vegetation wildly overgrown, enveloping the Mountain Gate. Withered old trees, so large that a dozen people could barely encircle them, stretched their dry, hard branches skyward.
Within the collapsed Mountain Gate, a figure stood motionless, like a wooden stake, without a ripple, as if petrified.
When walking in the distance, one could hardly sense his presence. It was only upon nearing that one was startled to realize someone had been standing here for a long time.
He stood with his back to the Mountain Gate, black hair cascading like a waterfall, tall and immeasurable, like an Abyss, or perhaps the infinite Starry Sky, unfathomable.
The large black dog was once a sovereign, and though his cultivation base had since declined, his vision remained keen. He shivered repeatedly, unable to discern the depths of the figure.
