After parting ways with Yun Rou on the eighth floor, Kent ascended the spiraling tower alone. A strange serenity embraced him as the noises of the market below faded into silence. The ninth floor opened up to a wondrous scene—rows of floating glass orbs that held ancient herbs, each gently spinning in the air, surrounded by soft glows of protective formation energy.
He walked slowly, his eyes absorbing every detail. Beneath each herb, a plaque in graceful golden calligraphy narrated its story:
“Voidroot of the Celestial Night – Harvested under a full eclipse, strengthens soul sense for seven days.”
“Blood-Borne Larch Leaf – Grows only on the backs of migrating blood beasts. Used in heart restoration elixirs.”
“Thousand-Wind Grass – A wisp-thin plant that thrives on tornadoes in the Cloud Realm. Amplifies wind-based alchemical fire by 200%.”
Kent stood silently in front of a levitating vine encased in green ice. Its twisted branches sparkled like emerald lightning.
I’ve never even heard of these, he thought, a spark of excitement burning in his chest.
As he stepped onto the tenth floor, the environment shifted. The scent of herbs gave way to the tang of refined pills and concoctions. Rows of treasure bowls displayed finished alchemical products, each brimming with radiant light.
He leaned forward and observed the first:
“Soul Lantern Pill – Restores soul power after long mental fatigue. Grade 6.”
“Drunken Moon Dew – Induces lucid dreams with spiritual insights. Can trigger enlightenment.”
“Bone Reversal Paste – Reverses bone damage and can reforge broken skeletal structures. Requires Heaven Bone Root for full effect.”
There were potions suspended in crystal bubbles, pills rolling in rings of spiritual mist, and even incense sticks that promised clarity of mind for sages meditating on divine laws.
Kent’s eyes widened when he saw the Frostbite Rebirth Elixir, a forbidden item in most realms. It could freeze a person into suspended animation, preserving them for centuries before rebirth.
Finally, the thirteenth floor.
As he stepped in, his breath caught.
The floor was nearly empty, quiet as a holy temple. Only three items were displayed in the entire vast hall—each resting on its own golden pedestal. Above them floated immortal-grade formation symbols, spinning slowly like ancient guardians.
The first item: a Golden Life Pill, capable of bringing someone back from the brink of death thrice.
The second: Nine Suns Divine Ink, which could rewrite failed alchemical formations and engrave divine-grade pill formations permanently.
And the third—a simple cracked black cauldron. Its outer surface looked aged and worn, but the plaque read:
“Cauldron of Eternal Genesis – Believed to have birthed the first flame of alchemy in the Immortal Era. Not for sale.”
Kent stepped forward in silent reverence. These weren’t just treasures. They were pieces of history—monuments of a higher path that most alchemists could only dream of.
“That cauldron once belonged to my master,” came a calm voice behind him.
Kent turned to see a man slowly approaching. He was tall and thin, with long white hair and beard that reached his waist. He wore simple white cultivator robes, yet every step he took exuded an aura of ancient knowledge and quiet strength.
“Why don’t you buy anything?” the elder asked, hands folded behind his back.
Kent offered a calm smile. “Because I don’t have enough wealth to afford any of these items.”
The elder chuckled, eyes narrowing with curiosity. “Honest and humble. I like that. But tell me, is there something you need?”
Kent didn’t hesitate. “Three Poison Beads of Night Mist Cobra. Grade two or higher. My master asked me to retrieve them.”
“Such a low-tier request for a young man who lit all thirteen candles,” the elder mused aloud. “Very well. You’ll have them before you leave. But… if I may ask—would you show this old man your alchemy flame?”
Kent nodded. With a subtle breath, he raised his right hand.
Dark flames burst to life—not wild and roaring, but disciplined and controlled. They were deep as the abyss and radiant as nirvana. Black with streaks of gold, they danced with a strange sorrow, as if whispering the truths of rebirth and destruction.
The elder’s brows furrowed in astonishment.
“This… what fire is this?” he muttered, moving closer. “I’ve seen Violet Heaven Flames, Phoenix Origin Fires, even the Solar Lotus Flame of the Divine Sun Realm… but I’ve never seen this. It’s not demonic… and yet not celestial either.”
Kent answered without pride, only calm certainty. “They are Origin Nirvanic Flames.”
“Nirvanic?” The elder repeated, then whispered as if fearing the flame would hear him. “Impossible… no texts mention such a thing.”
“They wouldn’t,” Kent replied simply. “Some truths are never written. Only lived.”
The elder stared for a long moment, then burst into quiet laughter. “You’re not like the others. You’re not loud. You don’t flaunt. You speak with care… and secrets.”
Kent smiled. “Everyone has their secrets.”
That made the old man smile more deeply. “And that… is why you will rise higher than anyone else who passed through this tower.”
The elder looked into Kent’s eyes, the flames still dancing in his palm. “Are you truly a one-star alchemist?”
“For now, yes,” Kent said. “But I will rise. When I do… everyone will know.”
The elder nodded, a mix of wonder and admiration on his face. He clapped his hands gently.
A beautiful woman in a green robe entered, holding a golden tray. Her steps were graceful, her presence refined. She bowed respectfully to Kent.
“This is my granddaughter Nasa Lim…” said the elder. “A five-star alchemist in her own right.”
The woman bowed again and presented Kent a small velvet box. He opened it to find three perfectly refined Poison Beads of Night Mist Cobra glowing with faint green mist.
“Thank you,” Kent said sincerely.
The woman then passed her grandfather a golden star-shaped token.
“This,” said the elder, holding it up, “is the Immortal Cauldron Master Token. With it, you’ll receive high discounts across all Pill King Markets, wherever they exist in the Immortal World.”
He smiled more slyly and added, “And the Golden Treasure House that sells divine weapons? They will honor this token as well.”
Kent accepted it with a bow. “This will help me and my people greatly. I’m in your debt.”
“You owe me nothing,” said the elder. “Just keep walking your path, and one day… you might sit at the table of the true Alchemy Gods.”
With a final respectful nod, Kent turned and departed.
He found Yun Rou and Lin Lin waiting near the base floor. As he approached, Lin Lin rushed to his side.
“You took so long,” she said, half-pouting.
“Got what I came for,” Kent said, lifting the small box briefly.
Yun Rou looked at the glow of the token hanging from his neck and raised a brow. “That… isn’t ordinary.”
Kent only smiled. “Let’s go. The market still has much to show… and I’ve only just begun.”
Together, the three walked out of the Pill King Balcony Tower. Behind them, from the highest floor, Elder Mu watched their departing figures and stroked his beard.
“That boy… he will shake the heavens,” he whispered.
–
The moon rose high above the tranquil city, its silvery glow gently blanketing the ancient rooftops of the Half Moon Inn. Yun Rou, Lin Lin, and Kent arrived quietly through the main gate, followed by the disciples of the Kullu Nation, their expressions weary but content after the long day of alchemy tower trials.
Vice Leader Yun Rou, always composed and sharp-eyed, had already made arrangements. Each disciple was given a private room for the next three days of rest and recovery. The innkeeper, sensing the prestige of the group, offered the best accommodations without hesitation. The quiet luxury of the rooms—with spirit-jade floors, warming incense burners, and soft beast-skin quilts—was a testament to the reputation of the inn.
Coincidentally or not, several powerful groups had also chosen to stay at the same inn. Among them were members of the White Fox Clan, known for their charm techniques, fox-fire manipulation, and dangerous politics. Their leader, a sharp-eyed man named Yin Qian, had rooms arranged directly beside the Kullu Nation’s.
Kent’s room was adjacent to Yun Rou’s. Though the inn was peaceful, he kept a thread of his divine sense pulsing through the area like a spider’s web, cautious after witnessing so many backroom schemes during the alchemy trials.
As night deepened and stars scattered across the heavens like spilled celestial pearls, the silence was suddenly shattered.
Thump!
A muffled crash echoed from the room beside Kent. Then came the bang of a palm striking the wall and a low groan that didn’t sound natural at all.
Kent’s eyes snapped open. He was already standing by the time the second crash came. The aura of the room next to his, Yun Rou’s room, flared unnaturally.
Something was wrong.
Kent burst through his own door, crossing the short corridor in a flash. Just as he raised his hand to knock, another sound—like someone being thrown into a wall—sent a chill down his spine.
Without a second thought, Kent forced the door open.
Inside, the room was a mess. The incense burner was overturned, golden powder strewn across the air, releasing a strange, sweet scent. Yun Rou’s clothes were torn at the sleeves, her robe half disheveled. Her spiritual aura was flickering uncontrollably, and her body was flushed in a deep shade of crimson. Her breathing was ragged, her eyes wild and glassy, but not from pain.
It was an aphrodisiac… and a high-grade one at that.
Kent scanned the room with narrowed eyes. The window was ajar, the scent of fox-flame still lingering in the air. Whoever attacked had already fled. No doubt it was the White Fox Clan’s leader—Yin Qian. The man must have used a silent charm technique to suppress detection and slipped in like a snake. Disgust surged in Kent’s veins.
But he didn’t have time to pursue him.
“Yun Rou!” Kent stepped forward.
The vice leader collapsed against the bedframe, clutching her arms as her body trembled. Her cultivation was trying to expel the invading drug, but even with her power, it was proving difficult.
Then her eyes met Kent’s. Something in them—pleading, desperate—burned through the fog of poison.
“Kent…” her voice was hoarse, nearly broken. “I… I can’t… hold it back…”
She reached out with both hands, and in one swift motion, grabbed the front of Kent’s robe and yanked him close. Her breath was scorching against his neck, her lips trembling just inches away.
“You have to help me,” she whispered, voice cracked and trembling with both pain and shame. “Please… suppress it… or I’ll lose control…”
Kent’s heart pounded as he stared at her lustful face.