Grave endured the discomfort in his nose, the small room had no ventilation, only a small window in the wall, and it required Greve to step on a small bench to open.

But at this time, he won't open it.

However, as the potion in the cauldron boiled, the stench slowly faded, and Grave's eyes were fixed on the boiling liquid, pouring some water into the bladder from time to time.

As time passed, the four corners of the spell that had been burning beneath the cauldron slowly rolled upwards, and the flames gradually faded. Greve took out a heavy glove with a somewhat charred finger from his spatial ring, Greve put the glove on his right hand, and a spell appeared in his left hand again, and his right hand instantly grabbed the flame that was still burning, and directly pulled the charm out of the groove under the crucible.

Strange to say, as soon as the flame charm left the groove at the bottom of the crucible holder, the upper or rim was immediately extinguished, and the whole charm immediately turned into a very ordinary piece of burnt black paper.

Almost at the same time, Grave placed the spell in his left hand into the groove with precision, and the familiar flames began to beat again.

The whole action of changing the fire looked extremely thrilling, but Grave completed it quite quickly and quite freely, but the refining process of this potion was quite complicated, and I am afraid that this step of changing the fire alone would have to be carried out more than three times.

Since there were no windows, the light from the outside could not shine in, and Greve had no time to care about the time outside, Greve lit the candles in the house, and the flame under the crucible, the room did not appear to be very dark, and the raw materials brought by the officer were almost consumed by him, and the last crucial portions were left.

There was silence in the room, Greve's face was illuminated by the firelight, his eyes flickered with an inexplicable look, and all that was left in the room was the sound of Greve's even breathing and the gurgling of the cauldron as a potion. Grave's whole body was motionless, and if it weren't for the slight heaving of his chest, others would even think that it was a corpse sitting on a stool.

"The last item, the dead man's heart. Grave's lips twitched slightly, he had placed the bag of flesh on the table long ago, and the stench of the room masked the smell of blood inside. Grave held the bag up in front of him, his nose sucked hard, the smell of blood and the smell of carrion wafted down the air into his nostrils, Grave thought of getting this kind of thing into his stomach for a while, his stomach tumbled, and his body instinctively vomited.

Grave forced the vomit back, opened the seal of the bag, the piece of flesh and the cloth at the bottom of the bag were glued together, and Greve reached directly into the bag, grabbed the cold, slimy piece of flesh, and threw it in the crucible.

Strange to say, the moment the carrion was thrown into the crucible, the boiling liquid in the entire crucible was like being poured into ice water, and it cooled down rapidly, and the color of the liquid also faded little by little, gradually turning into a transparent colorless liquid.

Seeing this scene, the joy that Grave had been holding back finally appeared on his face, according to the records in the ancient books of the time, after throwing the heart of the dead, the liquid in the crucible would turn into a colorless and odorless potion, just like ordinary water.

The reaction in front of him was no different from that recorded in ancient books, and Grave was not happy that he was about to be freed, but that he was about to refine a potion of fake death that was unique on the entire continent.

Grave's eyes did not blink, staring directly at the water in the crucible, the blood around the whites of his eyes seemed to be reflected on the surface of the water, just a few minutes, as if a few hours had passed, the potion in the crucible boiled again, the previous stench had almost dissipated, Grave lay directly on the edge of the crucible, sniffing vigorously with his nose, it was a bit like a wild dog foraging on the side of the road.

When the liquid boiled completely, there was another reaction that was exactly the same as before, and the potion slowly cooled, only this time, there was significantly less liquid left in the crucible.

Grave put on his gloves again and repeated the action of changing the fire, and all he had to do was wait, waiting in this cycle of boiling and rapid cooling, until the water became a small bottle that was only large enough for the thickness and length of a finger.

I don't know how long it took for Grave to keep this weird, seemingly physically taxing movement, and finally, when Grave could hear the slight sound of the flames inside the cauldron burning the bottom of the cauldron, he finally took out the flame charm again, only this time, he didn't put another one on it. Instead, he took a small black vessel from the side and poured the transparent liquid into the bottle.

With a sigh of relief, Grave's whole body seemed to collapse, and his body subconsciously leaned heavily behind him - he obviously forgot that his simple wooden stool had no backrest, and Grave fell to the ground in an instant, and the clothes on his back were tightly pressed against his body under the action of the floor, and Greve realized that he was covered in cold sweat.

Refining this potion was a big drain on his physical strength and energy.

Grave didn't get up right away, he just lay on the ground and closed his eyes. A thick sense of tiredness suddenly came up.

In the process of refining medicine, he can indeed maintain a high level of concentration, but this does not mean that he is an iron man, and an alchemist is also a normal person, who also needs to eat and sleep.

Biting the tip of his tongue, it was clearly not his time to sleep, and Grave struggled to get up from the floor, and he had to clean up everything in the room.

If you want to eat, drink, or sleep, you can do it all in a while.

The utensils and herbs in the room were all retracted by Greve into the spatial ring, and all that was left in the room was the black bottle that had not been corked, and Greve held the bottle in front of him, as if his eyes wanted to see the liquid inside through the bottle.

"Goodbye. Grave suddenly sneered, and immediately poured this unique fake death potion directly into his throat. If you want to talk about "Shadow of Exile" with more like-minded people, pay attention to "excellent reading literature" on WeChat, talk about life, and find confidants~