The twilight glow was like melted gold, lazily smeared on the walls of the monastery corridor, tinting the depicted stories with a warm edge.
Nightfall descended upon this ancient monastery.
Yet the empty-nested Deng waited until midnight... but did not finally await the long-anticipated audience.
After showcasing some skills with his hands, Herbert did not continue to push for more progress.
He feared Ophidia would not be able to endure it.
And indeed, she was somewhat unable to withstand it.
For an elderly monster girl, rich in knowledge but with zero practical experience, the pipa-like massage techniques were still too overwhelming.
It was not just a physical relief, but more a teasing and exploration reaching deep into the soul.
Herbert's technique was less of a massage, rather a "tuning" based on life resonance, attempting to awaken and recalibrate certain instincts and perceptions that had been dormant for who knows how many years.
