After the war between the Witch Race and the Demon Race, the demons retreated to the Heavenly Realm, leaving the witches the sole overlords of the central Primordial World.
Across that vast land, Witch Tribe settlements dotted the landscape and gradually spread outward, each holding its territory through the power of its bloodline and the strength of its flesh.
That day, the open ground at the heart of the Xingtian Tribe was filled with the sharp, heady aroma of wine and roasting meat.
The scent was rich and mellow, threaded with blood and spiritual energy. It overwhelmed the surrounding baleful aura, drawing repeated glances from the burly witch warriors. Their throats bobbed, and longing showed in their eyes.
The fragrance came from a makeshift stone platform bearing several enormous wine jars. Their seals had been broken, and waves of aroma drifted from them.
In front of the platform, a huge bonfire blazed. Massive, lean legs rested beside it, dripping fragrant fat as the flames roasted them.
Xingtian had not lied. Everything he used to entertain Yellow Dragon was first-rate: the finest spiritual fruits, rare Immortal Herbs and Medicines, and even the lowest-ranked beasts roasting over the fire had reached the Taiyi Realm.
What surprised Yellow Dragon most was the jar of liquid Xingtian brought out. It was translucent amber, clear as crystal, with a faint rainbow sheen across its surface.
According to Xingtian, he had found it beneath Mount Buzhou. It condensed from the mountain's ancestral vein at a rate of just one drop every hundred years. There had once been an entire pool, but he had used it all to temper his Great Witch physique. This small jar was all he had accumulated over the past several tens of thousands of years.
Yellow Dragon was struck speechless by the