The group began to move, their robes brushing past merchants and festival-goers alike, a streak of color among the crowd. People turned to look, not in fear, but in admiration. Cultivators from the Blood Moon Sect didn't often mingle with common folk, and yet here they were, standing in the middle of a food festival, looking almost human for once.
They all came dressed in their signature robes. Wi Chan-woo, in his black and navy robes, his long hair tied back in a ponytail, his dark eyes tinged with red, looked everywhere, his face slightly frowning.
