Moons hung in the sky of the hold as a small torch burned near a figure seated near a barrel. It was a rather primitive setup for the old man seated there but he felt like going back to his origins.
He had been a poor man at one time and his friends had gathered after missions to use their meager coin to down ale and maybe find company for the evening.
It was their senseless slaughter by more powerful cultivators that led him down his current path. He gently touched the curled and twisted horns rising from his head.
The corrupted bath was a bloody one, without doubt, yet there are reasons many could understand. Bloodsight was not one to join cutthroat sects or empires. Those that stated they pursued ultimate power but wasted time as politicians or playing games were disgusting to him.
There was nothing wrong with bashing open the skull of one that offends you yet he saw no need to make them suffer. Blood was the key to the corrupt path but it was not the only thing involved.
