A gigantic drake body lay further in, occupying an immense amount of space. The scales were dark and thick, layered like armor plates. Its head alone looked large enough to crush a carriage, and the curved horns that rose from its skull carried faint, dried traces of battle.
Even in death, the drake's aura lingered.
Michael stared at the drake for several seconds.
Unlike the old man who was barely alive, the drakeblood was thoroughly dead. The only thing they had in common was that they were both poisoned.
As for what to do with the body of the drakeblood, Michael did not know. He had only taken the body because he knew it would be valuable.
In any case, whether it was to be turned into an undead or used as material for his talent to devour and gain more evolution points, the corpse was indeed worth a great deal.
