The whole process of placing the Batuks was smoothly done. After getting pestered here and there, by the avid fan of a Death God, while being pierced by needles, both large and small...
Miguel could finally relax.
He stood at an open ground, not too far from the gates of Lumin's Tribe with his new Tribal mark—A black ink, darker than night, plastered around his shoulders that also ran across his chest and to his legs up to the ankles.
He was soaked in blood and sweat but Miguel did not mind.
'I finally received this mark that I only heard from people of old... So this is how a Batuk looked like! The real and actual Batuk!'
Staring at his skin, the tattoo projected a more masculine effect because of its rigid color-contrast from his brown skin.
The whole Batuk had a lot of missing parts, but those seemingly empty circles would later have its own content.
