## Liam's Perspective
I studied the Man with the Mustache's face, searching for any hint of deception. His proposition was too convenient, almost suspiciously so.
"Let see these ingredients first," I demanded, keeping my tone neutral.
He grinned, reaching into his spatial ring. "Always the cautious one, aren't you?"
From his ring, he produced three crystalline cores that pulsed with dark energy, then eight small pouches tied with red string.
"Three Grade-5 Demonic Beast Cores," he announced, placing the cores on a flat stone between us. "And eight varieties of ancient herbs, each over four thousand years old."
I picked up one core, channeling a small amount of qi into it. The dark energy within responded instantly, swirling violently against my light energy. These were genuine, high-quality cores.
"The herbs?" I prompted.
He opened one pouch, revealing dried leaves with a faint purple shimr. "Four-thousand-five-hundred-year-old Shadow Nightshade. Touched by both light and dark energies, as required for your pill."
My breath caught. This was exactly what I needed. But I couldn't appear too eager.
"The bronze mirror is worth more than this," I said coolly. "It's from the Dao Dynasty, as you yourself pointed out."
He stroked his mustache. "Two bronze plaques from your collection, then. I know you found them in that imperial tomb last month."
I raised an eyebrow. "You've been keeping tabs on ?"
"Information is survival in my business," he replied with a shrug. "Do we have a deal?"
The plaques were valuable, but ultimately useless for my cultivation or rescuing Isabelle. The ingredients he offered could help achieve both goals.
"Deal," I said, extracting two bronze plaques from my spatial ring and placing them beside his offerings. "But if these herbs aren't what you claim..."
"They are," he interrupted, snatching up the plaques with barely concealed excitent. "I'm a businessman, not a fool. I don't cross soone with your... capabilities."
We finished dividing the remaining treasures from the tomb in silence. As we prepared to leave, the Man with the Mustache sighed heavily.
"Such a sha we can't access the Bright Energy Grave directly on the Dragon Vein," he lanted. "The treasures there would make these look like trinkets."
"What's stopping you?" I asked.
"The Veridia City Martial Guild has it under constant surveillance," he replied. "That, and Erson Hols personally visits twice a month to perform so kind of ritual."
My interest peaked imdiately. "Erson Hols? The Martial Saint?"
"The very sa. Whatever's in that grave, it's important enough for the most powerful man in the city to guard it personally."
I stored this information carefully. Anything that interested the Martial Guild—and Erson Hols specifically—was worth investigating.
"If those obstacles weren't there?" I pressed.
The Man with the Mustache laughed. "I'd be the richest tomb raider in history!"
This version was sourced from *.
I made my decision in that mont. "Remove those obstacles, and I'll help you break into that grave."
He stopped laughing abruptly. "You're serious?"
"Deadly serious."
His eyes widened. "You're planning to challenge the Martial Guild? And a Martial Saint?"
"I'm planning to save soone I love," I corrected him. "If that ans challenging the entire world, so be it."
He stared at for a long mont, then burst into nervous laughter. "You're either the bravest man I've ever t or the craziest."
"Does that an you're in?"
He hesitated, then nodded. "If—and that's a massive if—you sohow neutralize the Martial Guild's presence there, I'll guide you into the grave."
We sealed our agreent with a handshake. As his fingers gripped mine, he leaned closer. "Your body contains both light and dark energies," he whispered. "A true Chaotic body. I've only read about such things in ancient texts."
I pulled my hand away, uncomfortable with his perception. "Focus on the grave," I instructed. "I'll handle the rest."
Back in my private chamber at the Jade Moon Villa, I arranged my alchemy equipnt carefully. The Phoenix Tripod, a gift from Mariana Valerius, dominated the center of the room. Its bronze surface glead with mysterious runes that enhanced any pill-refining process.
I laid out the ingredients for the Reincarnation Pill: the ice worm tears in a crystal vial, the fire dragon's blood essence sealed in jade, the Shadow Nightshade herbs from the Man with the Mustache, a spirit beast heart preserved in special oil, and the powdered ridian dust of a fallen cultivator.
My hands trembled slightly. One mistake in this process could be catastrophic. The Reincarnation Pill was notoriously difficult to refine, with a success rate of less than ten percent even among master alchemists.
I took a deep breath, steadying my nerves. For Isabelle, I would succeed. I had to.
I began by igniting the tripod with my Purple Spirit Fire—a rare fla that burned hotter than ordinary fire. The tripod humd in response, its runes glowing vibrant red.
First, the ice worm tears. I poured the crystalline liquid into the tripod, where it sizzled against the heated bronze. Next, the fire dragon's blood essence, added drop by drop to balance the cold properties of the tears.
The mixture bubbled violently, changing colors from blue to red to purple. So far, so good.
I crushed the Shadow Nightshade between my fingers, releasing its ancient qi. As I sprinkled it into the mixture, I noticed sothing concerning—the herb seed slightly less potent than it should be. Four thousand years old instead of five thousand? The Man with the Mustache had exaggerated?
Too late to stop now. I added the spirit beast heart, watching as it dissolved into the bubbling concoction. Finally, the ridian dust, which caused the entire mixture to glow with an eerie white light.
Sweat poured down my face as I maintained precise control over my Purple Spirit Fire. Too hot, and the pill would explode. Too cool, and the ingredients wouldn't fuse properly.
Hours passed in intense concentration. The mixture gradually condensed, forming a single pill that floated in the center of the tripod. Its surface shifted between light and dark, never settling on either.
"Stabilize," I muttered, feeding more energy into the tripod. "Co on."
Just as despair began to creep in, the pill suddenly solidified, its surface now a perfect balance of black and white swirls. I'd done it. The Reincarnation Pill was complete.
I extinguished the fire and carefully removed the pill with special tongs. Despite my exhaustion, triumph surged through . This was my key to the next realm of power—and to saving Isabelle.
Without hesitation, I placed the pill on my tongue. It dissolved instantly, unleashing a torrent of energy that raced through my ridians like lightning.
Pain followed imdiately—excruciating, mind-shattering pain. My body felt like it was being torn apart and reassembled. Every cell scread in agony as the pill's energy rewrote my very essence.
I collapsed to my knees, biting back screams. This was the critical mont—either my body would accept the transformation or be destroyed by it.
"For Isabelle," I gasped, forcing myself to endure.
Light erupted from my skin—first golden, then purple, then a mixture of both. My cultivation base, which had been stalled at the Consummate Inner Strength Grandmaster realm, began to crack its boundaries.
The room around trembled. Wood splintered, stone cracked, and tal warped under the pressure of my expanding energy. I was breaking through.
Inner strength flooded every part of , strengthening my bones, enriching my blood, enhancing my organs. My senses sharpened dramatically—I could hear conversations from the other side of the villa, sll the faintest traces of herbs from the storeroom.
As the transformation reached its peak, waves of light rippled outward from my body, slicing through the mountain stone walls of my chamber like they were paper.
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