Watching this elderly man, guide Kuchai took a step back, while he waited till the elderly man finished his meal. Finally, he clasped his hands and bowed before speaking.
“Venerable Grandmaster Yabile, I’ve brought the man here.”
Elderly Yabile finally lifted his head, he was clearly past the prime of youth; his back slightly crooked , and he wore a set of black clothes. Most peculiar, was the hood that was covering his head; if one were to brush shoulders with him, one would only be able to see the bottom half of his face. His exposed skin was abnormally white, having the trademark limp and wrinkled properties of an aged person. Nonetheless, he exuberated a hatchet-beheading incisiveness.
“You’re here to learn the fist?”
The guide shook his head.
“Not me.”
Sheyan then took a huge step forward, cupping his hands before politely bowing.
“I’m the one seeking to learn the fist.”