Three Sins Against Heaven

Mark Ye saw Dylan Chen standing still and coldly said, "I told you to refine pills, didn't you hear me?"

Dylan snapped back to reality, seeing the unyielding look in Mark's eyes. He could only grit his teeth and sit in front of the pill furnace, releasing spiritual energy into it.

This pill furnace was specially crafted; no matter what type of spiritual energy entered, it would be converted into flames.

As the furnace was enveloped in fire, Dylan didn't immediately put the herbs in. Instead, he carefully pondered the contents of the jade slip.

Mark didn't rush him, standing quietly to the side.

He often absorbed the spiritual energy of Dylan and others, so he was well aware of their aptitudes.

Alchemy required a relatively intact Wood Spirit Root. Among Dylan's Five Elements Spirit Roots, the Wood Spirit Root was the best, though it was only half complete. Still, it barely met the requirements for alchemy.

Mark, although having a perfect Gold and Fire Spirit Root, had an extremely poor Wood Spirit Root, even worse than Dylan's. Otherwise, he wouldn't have risked letting Dylan refine pills.

After a long contemplation, Dylan finally picked up the herbs and placed them into the furnace.

In just a few breaths, the furnace began to tremble.

With a "bang," the lid of the furnace popped open, and the herbs inside instantly turned to ashes.

Sweat beaded on Dylan's forehead. Pill refining was extremely complex; whether it was the temperature of the furnace, the extraction of the herbs' essence, or the interaction of the medicinal properties, any mistake could lead to failure.

He had never refined pills before, and without guidance, figuring it out on his own was incredibly difficult.

Fortunately, Mark didn't seem to blame him. He merely flicked his sleeve, sending a gust of energy to sweep the ashes out of the furnace, and calmly said, "Continue."

Dylan didn't immediately start the second attempt. Instead, he carefully recalled the steps from the first attempt. After a long time, he put the herbs back into the furnace.

However, having never been exposed to alchemy before, it was extremely difficult for him to figure it out on his own and successfully refine a pill.

As expected, it didn't take long for the lid to pop open again, though this time it lasted a few breaths longer than before.

By the fifth attempt, the lid finally didn't pop open. But when the fire stopped, Dylan saw a black mass inside the furnace. It was clear that this wasn't the Spirit Gathering Pill Mark wanted.

Six times, seven times...

With each failure, Mark's face grew darker.

He knew that without guidance, it was very difficult to succeed when first learning alchemy. But jade slips detailing alchemy were too expensive for him to afford.

He desperately needed Spirit Stones. If he succeeded in refining the pill, he could exchange it for Spirit Stones.

But if he failed, the purchased herbs and furnace would be wasted, and he wouldn't have any Spirit Stones for a long time.

The Demonic Extreme Sect had many tasks to earn Spirit Stones, but new disciples rarely chose alchemy. A good alchemist required a large amount of herbs, which meant a large amount of Spirit Stones. A newcomer couldn't afford to invest so much in alchemy.

Although Mark was a newcomer, he wasn't an ordinary one. As a genius, he had the courage and determination that others lacked.

This was a gamble. If he won, he would have a shortcut to quickly obtain Spirit Stones.

But if he lost...

Seeing Dylan extinguish the fire, Mark opened the furnace lid. Looking at the pile of waste inside, he narrowed his eyes.

The ninth failure.

The blood-red pills in Dylan's body activated, causing him to groan and collapse to the ground. His internal organs twisted, and the stabbing pain made him roll on the floor, his clothes quickly soaked with sweat.

Mark grabbed Dylan by the collar and coldly said, "This is the last set of herbs. If you fail again, you'll pay with your life!"

Dylan struggled to his feet, sitting in front of the furnace. His hands trembled as he picked up the herbs and placed them into the furnace.

But this time, the fire didn't ignite.

Dylan suddenly looked up at Mark and softly said, "I get distracted with you here. Can you leave?"

Mark was taken aback, then frowned and gave Dylan a cold look before turning to leave. "You better succeed, or your fate will be worse."

Dylan took a deep breath, not rushing to start. He carefully recalled every step from the first to the ninth attempt, his brows furrowing and relaxing intermittently.

Only by fully understanding could he hope to refine the Spirit Gathering Pill.

This contemplation lasted until sunset.

Mark stood by the wooden stairs on the second floor, his expression calm and patient.

He could sense that Dylan hadn't made a move for a long time, but having waited this long, he didn't mind waiting a bit more. He only cared about the result. If Dylan succeeded, all this wouldn't matter.

But if he failed, that would be another story!

In the attic, Dylan's eyes gradually focused. The pressure from Mark was already forgotten.

At this moment, he had only one goal: to refine the Spirit Gathering Pill!

The fire ignited, the herbs entered the furnace, and Dylan spread his spiritual sense completely, carefully sensing the changes inside the furnace.

The flames danced, reflecting in Dylan's eyes. The essence of the herbs was extracted and slowly fused.@@novelbin@@

After a long time, with a "bang," the lid popped open again, and the fire extinguished instantly.

Mark, who had been monitoring the situation, rushed up immediately. Seeing the empty furnace, his face turned extremely dark.

"Useless!"

The blood-red pills in Dylan's body activated again, causing him to roll on the ground in pain. Although the fire had extinguished, a trace of flame seemed to linger in his eyes. Struggling, he extended his tightly clenched right hand and opened it.

A round, green pill lay quietly in his palm.

Mark was stunned, then retracted his spiritual sense controlling the blood-red pills. After carefully examining the pill, he looked sharply at Dylan, his eyes gleaming.

"Very good, you didn't disappoint me!"

Find the original at bit.ly/3iBfjkV.

Dylan staggered to his feet, bowed, and then turned to leave.

Mark suddenly called out, "You've done well these days. I'll let bygones be bygones. Recover your spiritual energy well. From now on, just focus on refining pills for me."

"Yes." Dylan lowered his head and slowly retreated.

Outside the attic, Dylan met the gazes of Ryan Ji and Carol Yan. He responded with a calm look and didn't linger in the courtyard.

Back in his room, Dylan collapsed onto the bed, clutching his head that felt like it was being pricked by needles, sweat streaming down his forehead.

After refining pills for so long, his spiritual energy was completely depleted. Moreover, alchemy required constant attention to the changes inside the furnace, which was mentally and spiritually exhausting.

He was now utterly exhausted, not wanting to move a single finger.

Recovery of spiritual energy, alchemy—he didn't want to think about any of it. He just wanted to sleep well.

But when his eyes fell on the copper coin on his wrist, a surge of strength suddenly filled his body. He sat up abruptly and began to recover his spiritual energy.

He couldn't give up, absolutely not. As long as he had a breath left, he would never give up!