"When I gave my blood to your daughter, she had sworn fealty to me!" Arin reminded her.
"My lord, you are the very avatar of the Lord of the Underworld—his mortal embodiment.
Through you flows his wisdom, courage, might, compassion, and wrath, all in perfect harmony. What greater honor could we aspire to than to swear our eternal allegiance to the Dark Light itself?"
"Well, if you say so!" Arin shrugged his shoulder.
He bit his index fund with his sharp canine to draw his thick green necromantic blood.
Lapasmita cut her own palm with her sharp nail. Her pale green blood oozed from the wound.
Arin brought his thumb over her wound, which was bleeding, and pressed the thumb to squeeze out his own blood.
His luminescent thick green blood mixed with her light pale green blood and sipped back inside the wound.
Arin realized her wound got healed instantly.
Arin wondered if his blood had healing capacity.
