The totem of the Hirasu tribe was a majestic golden eagle with a sharp gaze. Under the shaman's urging, a brilliant light burst from the totem as if it was reflecting the Grand Sun.
Meng Qi could feel a faint feeling of grandeur rose around him, with a strange power being sometimes vague and sometimes distinct.
He didn't dare to be careless in front of the totem's ancestors. He felt himself floating in the dark universe, where imaginary and intangible gleaming lines surrounded him. The only line that he could grasp was the one slowly moving closer to him.
"Will you willingly accept this oath?" he suddenly asked, using the curt prairie language.
This shaman was just an ordinary one. Though he found it a little suspicious, he thought Meng Qi was simply being cautious. "There's no falsehood under the watchful eyes of the External Sky and Huang Jinying," he whispered.
