A wizened old man who had a still muscular and powerful frame, but in already visible decline, and with a thick white beard covering most of his lower face and tied up in several places below, hanging to his lower abdomen, sat on a sitting mat at the end opposite from the stairs that led up to the terrace.
His frame was lit from behind with an orange-yellow glow of the volcanic lake, and thus his features were harder to see with naked eye because of the contrasting dark, and yet there seemed to be a fiery glint that should be coming from lava in his eyes despite facing away from it.
Wu Long noted twelve empty sitting mats on both sides of the man, six on each.
There was also a sitting mat in the very center of the terrace, likely prepared for himself.
"Greetings, Temple Master Qi"
Wu Long cupped his hands and the man nodded, cupping his hands as well.
