Back in the village.
Damian stood on the crimson-blue wall, grasping multiple spears in his hands. Bone spears, nothing crazy by any chance. Simple weapons crafted from the remains of Primal Beasts hunted by the tribe over generations. Their tips were sharp enough, their shafts sturdy enough, but they held no Mana and no special qualities.
They were the best the Purple Stone Tribe had to offer.
And they weren't enough for what was coming.
Focusing on expanding his knowledge regarding cultivation and forming his own doctrines, he still had many points to understand and manipulate about his Second Doctrine. Right now, whenever he utilized that single letter of Persevere, everything painted with his blood benefited from his cultivation. The lifeforms he was connected to benefited as well, regardless of distance.
