The small tree, no taller than three feet, had an elegant spiritual charm with leaves rustling in the wind, its branches knotted, full of vitality.
Were it not for seeing it with his own eyes, Qin Feng would have found it hard to believe that within this fog brimming with the scent of death, such a spiritual tree could actually thrive.
The white fruit hanging at the tip-top of the knotted branch did not give off the slightest fruity aroma, yet it radiated a faint energy fluctuation that enveloped the entire hill, not allowing any hint of deathly aura to invade this place.
When this faint energy fluctuation reached Qin Feng, it also imbued him with threads of warmth.
"What kind of spirit fruit is this?"
Qin Feng looked at it curiously for a few moments.
Unfortunately, he knew nothing about this realm. He had already demonstrated considerable erudition by guessing that this place was the Dragon's Grave; how could he possibly recognize something merely by sight?
