Yet his action of waving the folding fan appeared somewhat stiff, as if he were trying to conceal his inner anxiety.
Mutou chips were stuffed one by one beneath the stove. The wood chips were shaved off the wood bit by bit with a rather dull knife, and the elderly hand seemed very steady. He scraped them away a bit at a time, unhurried and unbothered.
It was just like those most fanatical alchemists, whose very bodies were like massive alchemical products, with countless auxiliary magic arrays meticulously inscribed upon them one by one.
Chapter 587