"It was just a ginseng root. Its effects are just a little on the potent side."
The corner of Zhan Yan's eye twitched as he dug his fingers into a crack in the rock wall to steady himself.
As the light from the will-o'-the-wisps on the stone wall flickered, the veins on his neck throbbed. "What you just fed me... that wasn't an ordinary ginseng root, was it?"
It was beyond strong—it was practically inhuman. In the past, when others used ginseng to cling to life, even if they swallowed a whole root, it was anyone's guess whether they'd even be able to take a few more breaths.
A metallic sweetness welled up in Zhan Yan's throat. He recalled an old Elder at Divine Weapon Ridge who had tried to cling to life with old ginseng. Even after an entire centennial ginseng was crammed down his throat, being able to take three more breaths was considered a miracle.
An ordinary ginseng simply couldn't provide much nourishment for the body of a Martial Artist.
