Qin He had not been idle either. He casually uprooted a fleeceflower root with roughly two hundred years of medicinal age, pulled out a small knife, and with several swish, swish, swish strokes, peeled it clean.
He took a bite, and a surge of pure Origin Power immediately flowed from his throat straight into the Inner Sea of his dantian.
The feeling was like taking a gulp of thick meat broth after being frozen and starving in an icy wilderness for three days. His entire body felt utterly at ease.
The only drawback was the texture and flavor. It was a little dry and woody, with a faint bitterness. In short, it had nothing to do with deliciousness.
It could not be helped. Raw chewing was like that—the spiritual medicine tasted however it naturally tasted.
That was one reason pill refinement was so prevalent among the Human Race. The Demon Race possessed powerful physiques and could chew and swallow such things raw, but the Human Race was somewhat lacking in that regard.
Of course, Pills combined all manner of spiritual medicines and could produce many incredible effects, maximizing strengths while compensating for weaknesses. That was another important reason.
So Qin He turned directly toward that Dragon Blood Fruit.
That thing was red and plump, and it looked delicious.
As a foodie, Qin He's instincts had always been accurate.
As he approached the Dragon Blood Fruit, Qin He inspected it again. As expected of a precious medicine that had an owner and was protected by a formation, its appearance was anything but ordinary.
The entire plant was a deep crimson, its branches intertwined like entangled Flood Dragons. It had few leaves, each as slender as pine needles. Beneath the leaves hung a blood-red fruit, roughly the size of a child's fist,