There were so many because Yang Mu was a potion master himself. There was no chance of failure with such elementary Bloodline Potions, and his use of materials was far beyond that of an elementary potion maker.
For an ordinary elementary Bloodline Potion maker, obtaining twenty bottles of Bloodline Potion from over a hundred corpses would already count as competent.
Just as Yang Mu held a staff seemingly carved from white jade, its grip fashioned into the head of an Undead True Dragon, Jack came to the middle deck again and said excitedly.
"Captain, we've encountered a merchant ship. Judging by its insignia, it belongs to the Sith Lineage."
Yang Mu continued to toy with the staff refined from Fishman vertebrae in his hand, then rose and walked onto the deck. Two Walking Corpses followed behind him, carrying a chest.
Once on deck, Yang Mu ignored the merchant ship in the distance, which was on full alert. In this age, merchant ships and pirate ships were difficult to distinguish.
Given the chance, any merchant ship would turn into a pirate ship. They were equipped with cannons as well, and every sailor carried a weapon.
"Everyone, come here."
Yang Mu stood on the second level of the deck, not far from the helmsman.
At his words, all the sailors preparing for battle gathered around.
The chest beside Yang Mu was opened, revealing rows upon rows of dreamlike Fishman Potions neatly arranged within.
"I know you crave power, and Fishman Potions can give you the power you desire in the shortest possible time."
"But everything comes at a price. Behind all things that seem beautiful lies a heavy cost, and Fishman Potions are no exception."
"The Mage path I cultivate has eight clearly established ranks, from First Order to Eighth Order Mages.