Octavian's eyes reddened. He drew his sword—a low-grade Saint artifact longsword.
The longsword flashed coldly as it stabbed toward Duke Sanning's thigh. The tip sank about half an inch into Sanning's flesh, then could go no farther. With the slightest exertion, Duke Sanning's muscles rebounded, knocking the sword away. Everyone saw only a negligible bloody mark on his thigh, yet not a drop of blood flowed.
Although Octavian had not used battle energy, a Saint artifact-grade longsword had actually failed to break Duke Sanning's skin!
"God!" The two elders of Duke Sanning's household gasped so hard with excitement that they nearly choked. One particularly aged elder made two rattling sounds in his throat, rolled his eyes, and nearly fainted on the spot, frightening the younger members beside him into hurriedly reviving him. It took them quite some effort to bring him around.
"Praise the great God! Youth and strength—is there anything more perfect than this?" The old nobles present were nearly in tears!
As heads of their families, they enjoyed every luxury and glory the world had to offer, yet their lives lasted only a brief century. Compared with those family elders who cultivated in seclusion, they were like mayflies born at dawn and dead by dusk. What a tragic life that was!
But now, a simple dragonblood bath—requiring nothing more than a vast sum of gold—had restored their youth and vitality, while granting them immense strength and such unimaginable defenses! This was simply a miracle. An absolute miracle!
Lin Qi took out a vial of potion that gave off a faint fishy scent. "Duke Sanning, this is a potion made from the venom of the Abyssal Three-Step-Down Poison Scorpion. I know that some royal families on the Western Continent are especially fond of using this potion to assassinate political