When I woke up, I found that everyone was making sacrifices in ancient languages.
The great shaman of the tribe announced that I was a "spiritual soil" that would be encountered once in a thousand years, and I needed to sacrifice my flesh and blood to strange beasts.
Looking at the ferocious beast staring at me under the altar, I suddenly smiled.
They don't know that I have an entire atlas of "The Classic of Mountains and Seas" in my head.
Little did I know that this "fero", which they regarded as a god, was marked by me on the homepage of the atlas as: easy to tame, with its weak point three inches behind the ears.
