“Kent. Combat Peak. Personal disciple of Master Lao.”
The man finally looked up, his brows slightly furrowing. “Personal disciple?” He reached out to confirm the records and, seeing Master Lao’s seal beside Kent’s name, his posture straightened slightly. “Ah… I see. One moment.”
He reached under the counter and pulled out a small jade box. As he opened it, the gleam of 100 mana pearls, shimmering with dense energy, greeted Kent’s eyes.
“Here. Your monthly stipend.” The administrator handed the box over. “Since this is your first time collecting, you should know that as a personal disciple, you also have access to additional resources upon request. However, that requires Master Lao’s approval.”
Kent nodded, taking the box. It was a decent amount, but nowhere near enough.
As he turned to leave, the murmurs among the other disciples grew louder. Some sneered, some watched with curiosity.
“Even if he got into Combat Peak, what does he think he can do with just 100 mana pearls?” one disciple whispered with a smirk.
“Maybe he’ll use them to buy a single potion and hope to fight a true combat expert,” another laughed.
Kent didn’t react. He had bigger things to focus on. Alchemy. The right method. The fastest way.
As he stepped out of the administration hall, he tilted his head towards the sky, watching the setting sun cast an amber glow over the capital.
“I need a breakthrough,” Kent thought. “And I know exactly where to start.”
—-
The sun had begun its slow descent across the capital’s towering peaks, casting long shadows over the ancient stone stairways of the Royal Academy. After leaving the administrative hall with a pouch of 100 mana pearls—a stipend granted to personal disciples of Combat Peak—Kent made his way toward the renowned Purple Cauldron Peak, the domain of alchemists and potion masters.
His heart was filled with purpose.
If the bowless arrow he saw at the Royal Pearl Store was truly a relic of the 13th Emperor, its value was more than just wealth—it might unlock a hidden technique, or a forgotten secret. But with its price of one million pearls, Kent knew that the only fast route to such wealth was through high-grade alchemy.
–
The Purple Cauldron Peak
Massive cauldrons lined the edges of the purple-hued cliff, from which soft smoke curled into the air, scented with herbs, burnt minerals, and something oddly divine. Disciples dressed in violet robes moved to and fro, balancing trays of ingredients and scrolls.
At the entrance stood an elder with a sharp goatee, golden glasses over his eyes, and a scroll in hand. His robe bore the insignia of Elder Mu Jin, known as one of the gatekeepers of the peak.
Kent stepped forward and cupped his fists. “Greetings, Elder. I am Kent, personal disciple of Master Lao of Combat Peak and inner disciple of Green Poison Peak. I wish to learn the art of alchemy under the guidance of Purple Cauldron Peak.”
Elder Mu Jin blinked once, clearly not expecting a dual-peak disciple to appear here. “…You wish to join Purple Cauldron Peak as a disciple?”
Kent nodded firmly. “Yes, Elder. I have prior experience with poisons and basic potion crafting. But I want to formally train in proper alchemy—refinement, transmutation, and elixir enhancement.”
Mu Jin rolled his scroll and tapped it gently on his hand. “And… you say you are already a disciple of both Combat Peak and Green Poison Peak?”
“Yes, Elder. I train under Master Lao and Peak Master Yao Fang.”
Mu Jin’s expression stiffened. “Then I’m afraid you’re not eligible.”
Kent’s face fell slightly, but he remained silent, waiting for the explanation.
The elder sighed, gesturing toward a nearby stone bench. “Sit, Kent. You must understand—it’s not personal. Academy rules are clear. A disciple can only join two peaks as their official identity. One for foundation and one for mastery. A third would create internal conflict, especially when it comes to ranking evaluations, duties, and rewards.”
Kent sat slowly, his brows furrowed. “But… alchemy is essential. I want to use it as a way to support my training and wealth-building. I don’t wish to betray any peak.”
“Intentions aside,” Mu Jin said, adjusting his glasses, “the system was created after the Peak Wars, when disciples would betray one peak for rewards from another. Our current Emperor declared it law—only two peak affiliations per disciple.”
Kent lowered his gaze to the marble tiles beneath his boots. A soft breeze stirred the air, rustling the leaves of a strange blue tree nearby.
“I see,” he said finally. “Then I suppose I’ll have to find another way.”
Mu Jin raised a brow. “You seem disappointed. But I’m surprised you even want alchemy. Master Lao is known for molding warriors into war gods. And Yao Fang… well, he is feared for turning poison into art. Why would a boy like you seek the calm, meticulous path of the cauldron?”
Kent looked up, eyes steady and quiet. “Because while the sword slays the enemy, it’s the potion that wins the war. No warrior fights long without recovery. No general sleeps well without antidotes. And no future can be bought without wealth.”
Mu Jin blinked. There was silence for a long breath.
“You speak with clarity,” the elder said at last. “If this were a different era… perhaps even Master Lao himself would ask you to forge your own peak.”
Kent stood up and bowed politely. “Thank you, Elder Mu Jin. I will find another way.”
As he turned to leave, the elder called out, “Wait.”
Kent stopped.
“I cannot accept you as a disciple. But if—if—you ever create your own peak, or gain permission from both your current masters to study alchemy unofficially… I might arrange for you to meet one of our loose-peak elders. Old Lady Qin, who no longer teaches formally, takes interest in… exceptions.”
Kent’s heart lifted slightly, and he bowed once more. “I understand. Thank you, Elder. I’ll return… someday.”
Kent descended the mountain slowly, feeling the weight of rejection. Though he didn’t show it, the realization cut deep—he had come hoping to find a structured path, mentors, formulas, and cauldrons ready for use. Instead, he was now on his own.
“Two peaks only… huh?” he muttered. “Then I’ll master alchemy without being a disciple. Who needs permission to learn when one has fire in the heart?”
He grinned slightly, already thinking of where he could rent a temporary alchemy room. He had several poisonous herbs in his storage ring—if he combined them with energy-purifying lotus from Combat Peak’s garden and focused on recovery tonics instead of poisons, maybe he could create something unique.
–
Back atop Purple Cauldron Peak, Elder Mu Jin watched the fading figure of Kent disappear among the clouds below.
“Strange boy,” he murmured, then turned to a younger disciple who had approached silently.
“Was he the one people say became the master of the slave village?”
“Yes, Elder. That’s the same Kent. They say he challenged the Hua family publicly and stood beside the slave princess Ai Ping.”
Mu Jin exhaled slowly. “He walks toward chaos. But the truly great alchemists always do.”
He stared toward the east, where the shadow of the Green Poison Peak loomed under the setting sun.
–
Slave Village….
The moon hung like a white lantern above the valley of the Slave Village.
Kent stepped quietly through the stone-paved paths of the village, his cloak flapping softly in the wind. A few villagers recognized him and nodded in respect, their eyes lighting up. Ever since he had accepted the protection of this place and stood before the Emperor himself, Kent King was no longer a stranger—he was their silent guardian.
He stopped before a small garden lit with blue flame-lanterns. Sitting near a wooden table beneath a blooming spirit tree was Ai Ping, her hair tied in a single loop behind her head, her pale green robe fluttering slightly as she crushed herbs with a pestle.
The soft fragrance of moonlotus and frost-leaf mingled in the air.
“Still working, Lady Ping?” Kent asked with a faint smile.
Ai Ping looked up, startled for a second, but then her expression softened.
“Kent?” She rose, brushing her hands on a cloth. “You came all the way back at night? Did something happen?”
Kent sat across from her. “Not danger,” he said. “But something important. Something… frustrating.”
He glanced at the pestle, watching the fine blue powder collecting in the bowl.
“I need your help.”
Ai Ping blinked. “My help? With what?”
Kent sighed, running his fingers through his hair. “I visited Purple Cauldron Peak today. Wanted to officially learn alchemy. But their elder rejected me because I already have two peak affiliations—Combat and Poison. The academy rules won’t allow me to join another.”
Ai Ping raised a brow, surprised. “So… what now?”
“I still need to learn,” Kent said seriously. “It’s the only fast way to earn wealth. I saw something today in the Royal Pearl Store—a treasure arrow. No bow, no clue of its full power, but I felt it call to me. It’s a relic of the 13th Emperor… but they want a million pearls for it. And I’m just a glorified pauper with 100 mana pearls in a cloth bag.”
Ai Ping chuckled. “And you think I can help you with that?”
Kent leaned forward slightly. “You once told me your knowledge in healing and spirit herbs comes from a friend. Do you know anyone… someone who could teach me outside the official peak rules?”
Ai Ping tilted her head, thinking for a moment, then smiled.
“I might.”
Kent’s eyes narrowed. “Truly?”
She nodded, brushing a few strands of hair behind her ear.
“Her name is Mei Lin. She’s not from the Purple Cauldron Peak but learned under 7-Star Potion Master Hua Ran, who own the Royal Pearl House’s elite buyers’ wing. Mei Lin’s status is… unofficial, but her master lets her craft potions behind the scenes. Some say she’s the youngest alchemy prodigy not affiliated with any peak.”
Kent’s heart skipped.
“That sounds perfect.”
Ai Ping nodded. “She’s also my friend. Grew up with me when we were both servant children in the outer district. She’s a bit snarky but trustworthy. If anyone can guide you in off-the-book alchemy training, it’s her.”
“Would she teach a guy like me?” Kent asked cautiously.