This deep-seated hatred was shared by both young and old, the lowly and the mighty; it was a form of hatred that resonated across the bloodline exponentially.
Xiao Ming's dislike for the powers above was only a fraction of what the Heaven-Blood Clan, imprisoned within this desolate prison, had endured for generations. This caged world had become a haunting memory, a cursed battleground for what was supposedly their clan's glorious past.
Now, they even greatly lagged behind the outside world, so much so that it might take an epoch for them to find their footing among a society that already believed their race was extinct. It was a painful pleasure, however one looked at the freedom they seemed to be expecting.
