Ye Lin took a deep breath and sat down cross-legged.
Twelve drops of crimson-gold True Dragon blood floated before him. Their deep hum, like rolling thunder, echoed by his ears, and the entire space trembled faintly.
To be honest, Ye Lin had no confidence either.
With cultivation at the second level of Quasi-Saint, he was attempting to refine True Dragon blood from at least the fifth level of Quasi-Saint. The gap between them was anything but small.
It was like a three-year-old child trying to lift a hundred-jin great hammer. One careless mistake, and he would smash himself to pieces.
After all, although Quasi-Saint was a single realm, the gap between the lower three levels, middle three levels, and upper three levels—
was the gap of an entire major realm.
It was like a Primordial Unity Golden Immortal refining the blood of a Daluo Golden Immortal—except the disparity was thousands, even tens of thousands of times greater.
But Ye Lin had never been someone who feared trouble.
Besides, the treasure was already in his hands. How could he retreat at such a crucial moment?
"Whew. I'll refine it first and worry about the rest later."
Ye Lin closed his eyes, and Saint power began to circulate within him.
First, strands of Saint power flowed from his dantian, slowly traveling through his meridians like a warm-up exercise.
Only after every meridian in his body had been loosened did Ye Lin open his eyes and beckon with his hand.
A drop of True Dragon blood slowly drifted over.
Though the drop still hovered three inches above his palm, Ye Lin already felt an overwhelming pressure.
It was as though a mountain were pressing against his chest, making even breathing difficult.
The tiny phantom of a True Dragon within the blood drop seemed