Nighttime in Demon City was as lively as ever with the constant festive spirit in the air.
The old green man kept himself hidden in a dark crypt, away from the festive spirit. He was sitting cross-legged on the ground with eight long rods—burning with green flames that looked alive—in a circle around him. His eyes were full of darkness and the corners of his mouth were curved up in a bloodthirsty smile.
He raised his hand to adjust one of the levers and the green flames became even stronger, making him seem even more sinister.
A cold and raspy voice came out of his slightly parted mouth. "Activating Immortal Weaken Spell!"
He then closed his lone eye and his body began to emit a weird aura, causing the space around him to be distorted. If someone were to see him now, they would describe him as a reflection of a funhouse mirror—all distorted and unreal.
