(Rokan's Perspective)
Duke Peterlor was currently lounging on a comfortable chair while chugging wine shots after wine shots into his mouth.
He had finished his twelfth bottle of the evening, but no expression of happiness or drunkenness could be seen on his face.
His high cultivation level meant that his cells kept breaking down the alcohol in the drinks before any effect could occur!
Being one of the strongest members of humanity was all well and good… but the cost was too damn high in the mind of the duke.
Never needing to eat nor sleep took some of the simple pleasures out of life.
Another pretty woman approached him to strike up a conversation, but the duke just lazily waved her away.
He may look like a man in his early forties, but he was still considered a child to some of the older cultivators.
High tier cultivators would be able to restore their youthful appearances but Rokan had chosen not to do so.
