The Alchemy Assessment Hall within Purple Cloud Peak was a spacious and solemn place—lined with rows of ancient cauldrons, fragrance of herbs, and faint mist of spiritual ingredients. Disciples rarely gathered here unless for testing or breakthrough.
Today, the usually silent hall had one special visitor.
A young lady disciple, wearing the violet robes of the Purple Cloud Peak, led Kent King into the stone-paved courtyard. He was calm, holding the jade token given by Lin Lin, the 3-star alchemist.
Outside the hall, an old, bony man with a crooked beard and droopy eyebrows stood like a stone statue. This was Elder Zing, a senior caretaker who had overseen thousands of assessments over the decades.
He took the token with one thin hand, and after confirming the symbol of Lin Lin, his brows furrowed.
“A 1-star assessment?” Elder Zing muttered with a snort. “That little girl Lin Lin sent you for this?”
Kent nodded calmly.
Zing looked him up and down, eyes narrowing. “Most alchemists worth anything skip 1-star. It’s barely worth wiping sweat. Only newbies and sellers care about that badge.”
Kent didn’t respond to the insult. His goal was simple: gain the badge to sell potions and pills legally under the Royal Guild’s banner.
“Go,” Elder Zing said, waving his hand in disinterest. “Pick a furnace yourself. Use a fire crystal. You’re not allowed to use flame spirits or arrays at 1-star.”
Kent gave a small shake of his head. “No need. I’ll use my own inner flame.”
The elder’s wrinkled face twisted in amusement. “Real fire? Hah! If you had that kind of talent, you wouldn’t be crawling for a 1-star test. Don’t try to show off.”
Still saying nothing, Kent simply turned.
Ignoring the smaller, lighter furnaces used by most testers, he walked toward the corner of the hall where an ancient, full-iron, triple-walled furnace sat forgotten.
“Is that fool serious?” Zing murmured. “He’s not using a fire crystal and he’s picking that thing?”
To Elder Zing’s growing surprise, Kent didn’t call for assistance. He physically lifted the furnace—nearly six hundred pounds of reinforced spirit steel—and carried it to the center of the hall.
Boom.
With a dull thud, the furnace landed in the middle of the platform. Kent’s sleeves rolled up, and faint silver-blue sparks danced around his fingers.
“I’ll begin,” Kent said simply.
Zing rolled his eyes and pulled out a red memory stone, placing it on the platform to record everything. “Let’s see how fast this little brat fails.”
Kent raised his palm. A swirling azure flame—dense and pure—lit up in the air.
Not a wisp, not a flicker, but a liquid-shaped core fire, crafted from his own internal mana and refined poison flame energy. The flame coiled like a dragon and hissed softly as it entered the furnace’s fire mouth.
Instantly, the heavy cauldron trembled with resonance. It hadn’t been used in decades. But now, it roared to life.
From the provided racks, Kent didn’t pick a few ingredients like most 1-star testers.
He picked hundreds.
“What is he doing?” Zing narrowed his eyes. “That’s not standard… wait—those are high-grade earth-essence herbs!”
One after another—Jade Vine Root, Seven-Year Old Sunflower Seed, Spirit Ink Berry, Thunderglow Petals, Blue Lotus Essence, and Golden Sand Mud—Kent added them in precise timing, crushing some, slicing others, stirring at odd intervals that made no sense to the average onlooker.
The fire danced like it was alive, burning at five different heat levels in rotations—one of the most advanced fire control techniques known to 3-star alchemists and above.
Elder Zing leaned forward, the smirk wiped clean from his face. “That… that’s not beginner work.”
The aroma in the air changed—first sweet, then bitter, then spicy, then cool like fresh snow.
Kent remained focused. His expression was serene, his spirit steady.
After nearly two hours of meticulous alchemy—
Boom!
A golden ripple escaped the cauldron as the furnace released a blast of steam and spiritual light.
Floating slowly from the top—a single pill rose, suspended in a silvery-blue mist.
The pill glowed with faint runes, with three golden lines running across its surface. A gentle phoenix chirp echoed within the hall, a sign of its potent spiritual nature.
Zing gasped and stepped forward. “T-Three spirit veins… and this fragrance… don’t tell me… this is—”
Kent opened his palm. The pill floated over.
“This is the Mystic Root Revival Pill,” he said quietly.
Zing’s face turned pale. “Impossible… that pill needs over thirty rare ingredients! Even Lin Lin failed it twice! It’s an upper-tier pill for—”
“Earth Immortal Wizards,” Kent completed. “It rejuvenates their spiritual roots after a failed breakthrough. Increases lifespan by ten years if taken within 30 minutes of failure.”
Zing stared at the pill like it was a sacred relic.
“…This pill… it’s worth at least 80,000 mana pearls… in an auction, it could go higher. It’s banned for private sale without guild approval!”
Kent handed him the memory stone calmly. “This is a 1-star test. You said I can use free ingredients, right? I just refined a superior-grade pill.”
Zing gulped, the pride in his old bones crumbling under the weight of Kent’s talent.
The scent of scorched herbs still lingered in the hall when Elder Zing, trembling slightly, walked toward Kent with a reverent expression. In his hand was the red memory crystal, now freshly inscribed with a single golden star, gleaming under the sunlight like a badge of honor.
“This…” Zing muttered, reluctantly yet respectfully placing the crystal into Kent’s hand, “is your official proof as a 1-star alchemist of the Royal Guild. With this, you are permitted to sell pills, rent halls, and buy restricted ingredients.”
Kent received it with calm eyes, his expression unreadable.
Zing hesitated for a moment, then coughed lightly. “That pill—Mystic Root Revival Pill—should not be kept in private hands. Submit it to the Guild. I will ensure it goes through official auction. You’ll get full value, minus Guild tax.”
Kent simply smiled. “Of course, Elder. I only need practice resources.”
Zing blinked.
No haggling. No greed. No pride.
Kent simply handed the superior-grade pill over, like it was a common item, and in return, he took a handful of high-tier herbs, enough to attempt several 2-star level potions.
Elder Zing stared at Kent’s retreating back, thinking:
“He’s not just talented. He’s terrifyingly… detached.”
—
Next Morning – Royal Pearl Store, Alchemy Pavilion
The vibrant outer chamber of the Royal Pearl Store, reserved for alchemists only, buzzed with soft murmurs and fragrance of rare elixirs. Lin Lin sat behind a counter, dressed in a flowing robe that shimmered with faint spiritual light. Her floral scent lingered in the air as she absentmindedly arranged pill bottles.
Then—Kent entered.
Without a word, he placed the red memory crystal on the counter and smiled lightly.
Lin Lin blinked. “You already passed?”
Kent nodded and slid the crystal forward.
She picked it up and poured her spiritual energy into it.
Woosh.
The image burst out—Kent lifting the ancient furnace, the five-tier fire control, the massive ingredient combination, the unorthodox refining rhythm, the steam burst—and finally, the glowing Mystic Root Revival Pill.
Lin Lin’s hand trembled. Her breath caught in her throat.
“What… kind of refining method is this!?” she finally shouted, stunned. “You stirred before purging, rotated flame intensity in reverse, and you didn’t even refine the root powder before combining! What school teaches this!?”
Kent chuckled faintly and said in a low voice, “I made it up. Self-taught.”
Lin Lin’s eyebrows twitched.
“You’re kidding.”
“No,” Kent said with an honest smile. “I’ve just… burned a lot of herbs over the years.”
She stared at him, then suddenly grit her teeth. “You! You’ll waste Heaven’s blessing if you go on like this.”
Kent blinked. “Oh?”
“I’ve never seen anyone use chaotic-order refining and still pull out a three-vein pill!” she huffed, stepping around the counter. Her cheeks were pink, partly from rage, partly from awe. “From today, you’ll train with me, no excuses. Every morning, every evening—Royal Pearl Store Lab.”
She jabbed a finger at his chest.
Kent tilted his head with a grin. “So now I’m your apprentice?”
“You—” she narrowed her eyes. “Don’t flatter yourself. But you will ruin rare ingredients with that reckless style if I don’t supervise you.”
Kent bowed slightly. “As you command, Lady Lin Lin.”
She turned her face away to hide a blush.
“Just be early tomorrow. We’ll see how much of that chaos I can fix…”
But deep in her heart, one truth bloomed like a budding lotus—
“This guy… might become a monster-tier alchemist if trained properly.”
And so began Kent’s formal dual training, not just in poison and combat, but now under the watchful gaze of a 3-star beauty alchemist, in the royal city’s most prestigious alchemy shop.
–
Next Day…
The morning sun cast a golden hue over the tiled roofs of the city, its rays lazily dancing over the walls of Kent’s residence. Inside, Kent was just finishing his routine body-forging meditation when the crisp knock of a disciplined hand echoed at his courtyard gate.
A servant opened the gate, and in walked a tall, clean-shaven disciple clad in the violet robes of the Purple Cloud Cauldron Peak, a scroll in one hand and a shimmering pouch in the other.
“Personal delivery from Elder Zing,” the disciple announced, his tone formal but respectful.
Kent raised an eyebrow and stepped forward, wiping the sweat from his brow.
The disciple offered the pouch with both hands. “This contains 80,000 mana pearls—the proceeds from the auction of the Mystic Root Revival Pill.”
Kent’s eyes flickered with mild surprise. Even with his expectations, he hadn’t thought the pill would fetch this much.
The disciple continued, “Elder Zing instructed that I tell you: ‘The pill created a stir among the Earth Immortal Circles. You have earned both fortune and attention. Be discreet.'”
Kent accepted the pouch silently, feeling the spiritual density through the reinforced silk. It was heavy—not just with wealth, but with rising expectations.
The disciple then added, “Elder Zing also wishes to meet you in person at the Inner Sanctum of Purple Cauldron Peak. He said, and I quote—’Tell that reckless brat to stop hiding behind a mask of humility. We need to talk—soon.'”
Kent chuckled lightly at that. “Very well. Convey my thanks to Elder Zing.”
The disciple bowed and turned to leave but paused briefly at the gate. “One more thing…”
Kent looked up.
“There are rumors that Grandmaster Shui of the East Pill Pavilion has also taken interest in the pill formula. You may want to tread carefully.”
Kent’s expression grew thoughtful as he stood in the morning breeze, fingers tightening slightly around the pouch of pearls.
“One pill… and the wind changes direction.”
He looked toward the distant horizon, where the alchemy peaks stood proud against the clouds.
“Time to visit Elder Zing, then.”
And with that, Kent stepped into the bath chamber to prepare, unaware that his name had just begun circulating in the hidden circles of master alchemists—where admiration, rivalry, and danger brewed in equal measure.