Blood Pupil glanced at Wang Dali in the distance, who had mostly recovered, then turned to look at the remaining lords of the imperial dynasties afar.
Why had he chickened out just now?
If he had made a move too, would he have gotten a share of the reward?
Those were pills useful even to Quasi-Saints.
For lords of imperial dynasties like them, there were undoubtedly only two paths to raising their cultivation.
First, grind away at it—cultivate every day and forcibly wear their cultivation upward. So long as the effort ran deep, cultivation would eventually rise.
Second, govern their imperial dynasties, expand their territory, and make their dynasties stronger. The stronger the feedback from fortune, the stronger they became.
Only those two paths existed.
Because treasures capable of advancing the cultivation of Quasi-Saint experts were simply far too rare. Even if such things existed, only imperial dynasties possessed them. As for lords of imperial dynasties like them, they could dream on.
Now that he had seen the kind of pill Ye Lin had bestowed, how could he not be green with envy?
The longer he watched, the more drool unconsciously trickled from the corner of his mouth.
He wanted to imitate Wang Dali as well, but after looking at the lords of the imperial dynasties in the distance, he still abandoned that somewhat terrifying thought.
Better forget it.
None of these guys were harmless lambs. He knew exactly how much he was worth.
If he made a move and failed to deal with the other party, only to get himself killed instead, that would be more loss than gain.
After all, once he was dead, he would have nothing left.
A battle raged within his mind.
After wrestling with himself for half the day, he finally came to terms