Han Li understood what he had to do. For now, he put his fears and doubts to the side and reached into his robes. He brought out a leather parchment. It looked ancient with the edges falling apart. It was covered in stains, and this included blood. Han Li looked at the parchment with glowing eyes. This was a Word record. For any shaman, having a Word to cultivate was one of the most important things. Han Li had completed his Shaman Ritual, but he had yet to begin true cultivation. Even with the power of sacrifice flowing through his body, he was still no different from a mortal. The only aspect he could boast about was that he had passed the Shaman Ritual and been granted permission to tap into the power of Sacrifice by the heavens.
