"The blood of a warrior," he pronounced, "shall be repaid with a hundred lives of Imperial People."
His mouth spoke these words, but his hands did not cease their work.
The Great Shaman gently picked up the two hearts that, although long removed from their chest, still beat vibrantly with a fresh red hue.
Then, he tenderly placed them in the crucible, onto the medicine mud that had turned thoroughly blood-red—a hue like molten lava or boiling blood.
As the hearts sank into the medicinal clay, the ritual reached its completion.
In the moment of bated breath, a visible spiritual brilliance flickered.
Inside the crucible, the murky medicine mud instantly turned pure and profound, and within a few breaths, the red slur of blood transformed into a kind of ink-like medicinal juice.
A clear and pure 'Blood Ink'.
