Ren Qing planned to take the opposite approach, mutating the Wolf-footed Man as much as possible to grasp a power far exceeding that of the Magic Technique itself.
In a world where even those in the Yang God Realm could die for no apparent reason, playing by the rules meant having no way to cope with disasters, natural or otherwise.
He closed his eyes to recuperate for a moment, then picked up a bottle of Wolf Blood and drained it in one gulp.
A foul, coppery taste spread from his tongue to his stomach. Under the powerful digestion of the Taotie Technique, the Divine Sutra began absorbing the Wolf Blood.
Ren Qing wasn't cultivating the Magic Technique in the usual way. Dilly-dallying would just be a waste of time.
After all, the seventeen types of Wolf Blood had cost him more than forty Stones of Blood Crystals, nearly all his recent earnings.
