I'm panting, covered in blood from head to toe. My foot on my enemy's shoulder, pulling my sword roughly from the corpse, life in his eyes fading. The last thing he sees is my smile. Then I set my eyes on you. A fallen and frail captive of the bandits I just slaughtered, trembling, bound and gagged. I snatch off your gag and throw you over my shoulder roughly. As I walk, I feel my madness clearing instead of getting worse. I look at you. A sineater? Good. Dualcultivation is expected.
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