At that moment.
On the bluestone staircase, several figures were walking down.
Two young men.
One was extremely robust.
From a distance, he resembled a fierce tiger that had just rushed out of the forests, his eyes intense and vigilant.
His arms were thick, like ancient tree trunks washed over by years, sturdy and powerful, his back and waist bear-like, giving off a heavily mountainous sensation without appearing bloated.
Every step he took caused his muscles to undulate like majestic, rolling waves, each one surging into the next, pressuring everything around, making the void crackle.
Speaking solely of it, the surging force of his vital blood seemed even more exaggerated than that of the disciple leading them.
At least that was what it seemed visually.
His body's plasma was boiling hot, akin to molten lava spurting out from a volcano.
