Purple Streak Pill Grind

Sol stood up and slashed his sword in the air. The blood on his blade was thrown off, cleaning it instantly.

He sheathed it and stepped away from the body of the crocodile.

"Hopefully, you reincarnate in your next life as a deadly disease. That would be the only way you could have a chance at getting your revenge on me. Although... by then, I will probably be immortal."

Sol seemed to ponder for a few seconds before shrugging the thought off.

He didn't waste any more time and quickly got to shedding the crocodile of its precious hide.

He couldn't do much with the iron tail, so he cut it off to sell it whole.

The rest of the hide he sliced with the keenest precision that he could with the blade that he had.

"Even a basic blacksmith would easily be able to tell the skill and precision of a cut of hide from a simple glance. I've trained this for a few years, so naturally, I'll be good at it."