Elder Kornis slowly made his way toward Lark's residence, his elderly frame slightly hunched over and his wrinkled arms folded behind his back.
His right hand carrying a heavy bag and the permanent wrinkles on his forehead furrowed more than usual, as if he was grappling with some sort of stress.
Minutes later, he finally reached his destination and he took a deep breath, preparing himself for the interaction he would soon have with the Demon King's Seventh.
Kornis drew more breaths, calming his nerves and gearing his mind to be patient, after all, despite Lark's current state, he was still his master.
Knock, Knock.
Elder Kornis extended his frail knuckles and gently knocked on the door before him, his ears perking up, awaiting permission to enter.
But he heard no response, his ears not picking up even a single sound from within the wooden house.
[Young master, you should consider your position.]
