Being in the same room as a giant snake felt complicated.
Wang Wu stood there dazed, staring at it as all sorts of thoughts flashed through his mind—terror, conquering terror, liking it—charging straight at the snake?
That seemed to make some sense.
After a long while, he finally sighed softly and took the Storage Pouch Snake Nineteen had prepared for him. There were truly quite a few good things inside, and its wealth was even more outrageous than Lü Dongyang's.
After all, it was a thousand-year-old great demon.
Wang Wu did not go too far, mainly because he knew all this was his. Even that old snake was his, so there was no point in secretly taking anything.
At this point, he followed the pill formula and took out the corresponding spirit herbs, spirit fruits, and all kinds of strange auxiliary items. There were thirty or fifty kinds in total, a complete jumble.
Anyone who did not know better would have thought he was brewing traditional medicine.
But with the pill formula in hand, it was like taking an open-book exam. The correct answers were right there; no matter how dull-witted he was, he could still fumble his way toward a rough result.
What was more, he possessed the Ice Fire Spirit Root himself. For alchemy, that was like adding wings to a tiger, giving him an enormous advantage.
Wang Wu only refined it three times. The first attempt failed completely.
The second was nearly successful. By the third, he successfully refined a batch of Ninth Rank Situational Vitality Pills—twelve in total, equivalent to restoring 12,000 points of vitality.
"Was it really this easy?"
Wang Wu was thoroughly shocked. How long had it been? Not even a full day.
Not being able to refine Situational Vitality Pills had been one