Grennan abruptly sensed the terrifying aura emanating from Mr. Mo, and his entire body tensed as the aura around him grew several degrees stronger.
Lin Qi was already a formidable enemy with such an immensely powerful body, while Mr. Mo was giving off the aura of a peak demigod. Proud and arrogant as Grennan was, and despite always looking down on human powerhouses, he still found himself with a headache.
But when he saw that Mr. Mo had merely tossed out three fist-sized medicine bottles, Grennan's mind went blank. For quite a while, he could not make sense of what Mr. Mo was trying to do. Barbarians, after all, had their own unique advantages—but their shortcomings, commonly known as lacking brains, were equally famous.
Orcs might have been savage and dull-witted, but their race still included highly intelligent peoples such as foxmen and wolfmen. Barbarians, however, were described this way by some: they were a race whose brains had been entirely replaced by knots of muscle. Apart from fighting, they were idiots in every other respect.
Thus, not only Grennan, but even those Saint-level barbarians stared blankly at the three medicine bottles as they smashed heavily against the ground and exploded into fragments. Since they had sensed not the slightest threat from the bottles, they made no attempt at defense whatsoever. A few barbarian warriors even smacked their lips regretfully—such pretty bottles, surely they had been worth quite a bit of money?
The medicine bottles shattered, and black, white, and gray mist spewed out. The mists merged at once, becoming a murky current that rapidly spread outward. Aside from Grennan, the Martial God wrapped in fiery battle energy, the other barbarian warriors merely caught a whiff of an odd scent. Then golden stars abruptly danced before their eyes, their legs