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"Father, they have arrived."
Yatagarasu Kensumi spoke, his voice deep and steady.
"Whoosh!"
The wooden door was opened, and people walked in, the room seemingly without a clear source of light, but the surroundings were not dim. Positioned directly opposite the door at the deepest part, a low table lay with an old man resting his right hand on his knee, his body turned slightly towards the door.
It was the figure of an aged, gaunt man.
He was clothed in a moon-white robe, through the overlapping front you could glimpse his thin chest. His slightly long hair tied in a knot at the back of his head, the wide hem of his robe spread out on the ground.
Even as the people entered the room, he seemed not to notice them at all.
On the table, there was a plate of dried fish, beside it a jug of wine, yet there was no scent of wine in the air.