Elwin sat cross-legged in his room. The smell of tea permeated into his nose. He picked it up from the small table and took a sip.
As a sect leader, Elwin must keep a calm mind at all times. Even with millions of undead soldiers currently marching towards him. Many were at stake, not just his sect but the whole continent. He did not want the world turned into a dark and lifeless place.
He had lived for more than thousands of years. He'd seen countless cultures and religions rise and fall. The sight of cultural clothes and buildings flashed inside his mind. Then there was a sound of traditional music from a certain village. He recalled unique cuisine he had tried in the early days. Their smell was still in his mind.
