Seated on the broad back of the Blood Lion Demon, which was akin to a small hill, Muria, cloaked in a black robe, gazed at the ramshackle small city not far away, its walls crooked and cracked, symbolizing more than they held actual significance. From the air that drifted over, he faintly caught a nauseating scent of blood.
"Caw! Caw!" An unpleasant bird's cry echoed. Under Muria's gaze, a giant vulture, entwined with a murky, black, demonic aura, flew out of the small city and headed towards him.
"Honorable Sir, I am the Lord of Black Vulture City. How may I assist you?" The Black Vulture Lord, reeking of rotting flesh, landed below Muria. On the back of the vulture stood a middle-aged man with a Mediterranean hairstyle, who nervously saluted Muria, wearing a modest smile.
