For the past few days, Xiuban had been fusing with the blood drop of the Ancient Poison Dragon's heart, while the fifty High Mages kept devouring its flesh.
Their magical talent had greatly changed from when they absorbed some of the aura emitted by the God Soul Fragment, but their bodies' innate essence hadn't changed too much.
After all, these fifty High Mages had only been Mages when they were discarded by the Merlin Family. They were poor souls with no hope of advancing to the Great Mage realm.
They were flawed both in mind and body. Now that they were devouring the flesh of the Ancient Poison Dragon, the fifty High Mages were like painfully built Swordsmen.
All their bodies were in some sort of reddened state as if there was a furnace constantly burning within them.
