Clad in a flowing black robe that hung from his broad shoulders like a cloak of shadows, the young man appeared regal and commanding, perched atop his throne of bones like a sovereign lord presiding over his subjects.
But there was a darker undercurrent to his presence, one that hinted at a far more ominous power lurking beneath the surface. The aura of death that radiated from him was palpable, suffusing the air around him with a sense of dread and unease.
He chuckled softly to himself before rising from his throne, his eyes fixed upon Ximen Wei with a keen and penetrating gaze.
There was a curious glint in his eyes, a sense of mischief and cunning that spoke to a mind both sharp and unorthodox. He seemed to be studying Ximen Wei with a sly, almost amused expression, as if he were privy to some secret knowledge that eluded even the most astute observers.
