Sifir entered the chamber alongside Beyond Blue. The room was spacious enough to comfortably accommodate ten people, simple yet composed. The floor was made of cherry peach oakwood, exuding a soft, soothing fragrance that calmed the mind. Though considered low-grade among natural treasures, cherry peach oakwood was valued for its balance—supple enough for furniture, yet firm enough to serve as sturdy flooring.
A figure stood beside the bubbling tempering bath, clad in a light sage robe trimmed with deep yellow. This was Herbalist Litework, a woman not blessed with striking beauty, yet possessing a natural warmth that could ease the spirit. She didn't turn to greet them, her attention fixed on the steaming bath.
"The bath will be ready in thirty minutes," she said quietly.
Across the room, a disheveled man knelt beside the bath's edge, scribbling runes and lines into the floor with deep concentration. His hair was wild, his clothes an unkempt patchwork of stains and dust—the picture of chaotic genius. Scatter Breeze, the clan's Third-Rank Array Master, was an eccentric formation expert renowned throughout the Midnight Clan.
Among the Liger race, physical strength was prized far above spiritual crafts, yet talents like his were rare and indispensable.
"Yes, yes—thirty minutes. You're always so quick, Litework."
Litework's lips twitched.
"Unlike you, Scatter Breeze, I actually manage to complete my work before the moon rises. Some of us are busy discovering formulas that improve bloodline serums."
Scatter Breeze snorted.
"You call yourself a herbalist, but you're more of a blood doctor—always rambling about how one strand interacts with another. Can't you just let things be?"
"Funny. You say that while obsessing over which rune connects to which array. Hypocrisy suits you."
The two continued bickering like old rivals, their words sharp but oddly affectionate.
Sifir and Beyond Blue merely stood there in silence, watching the argument unfold like two children quarreling over sweets. Neither dared interrupt; anyone foolish enough to interject between those two would only invite a scolding.
A soft cough echoed from the doorway.
Both elders froze instantly.
The First Elder had entered, his presence alone silencing the room. He glanced once at Litework and Scatter Breeze, who immediately lowered their heads in respect. But his gaze soon settled on Sifir—on his broken, battered form—and his eyes softened with a weary sigh.
The First Elder remembered him as a promising talent with great potential. Now, he was only a youth who could barely move.
Without a word, he turned and left as quietly as he had come.
When the two specialists finished their tasks, they too departed, leaving Sifir and Beyond Blue alone with the bubbling bath.
Beyond Blue gently helped Sifir into the seething mixture. The liquid hissed as it met his wounds, and agony coursed through every fiber of his being. He had known it would hurt—but not that it would feel as though his very soul were being torn apart.
Then came the voice.
A languid, humorless chuckle echoed in his mind, vibrating through his bones.
"I may have forgotten to mention," the voice drawled, "that this will be excruciating. You might wish for death—yet death will refuse you. Pain will be your companion for the next while. This is the fastest way to heal your broken foundation, though you'll never grow accustomed to it. It will always feel like the first time."
Sifir clenched his jaw and gripped the edge of the bath until his knuckles cracked and the veins in his hands bulged.
The voice continued:
"Your body's fragility stems not merely from your injuries, but from your very foundation. You've imitated the cultivation of humans—admirable, perhaps, but never meant for one such as you.
"Listen well, Sifir. The true path of cultivation for the Awakening Plane is grounded in the six primal elements, expanded into nine celestial forms for magical creatures. For humans, it consists of only eight celestial forms."
The voice began to fade, almost dreamlike.
"In the Awakening Plane, Metal forges the bones. Fire cleanses the blood meridians. Earth refines the muscles and skin. Water cleanses the blood. Wind tempers the heart. Air shapes the chi meridians.
"Then—Moon creates the Soul Palace. Sun creates the Will Palace. Star creates the Mind Palace.
"I'll explain more… when I awaken. For now… endure… because you own… me."
The presence vanished.
Sifir's body trembled violently.
A groan escaped him, loud enough for the other cultivators to hear down the hallway.
His teeth sank into his lip, drawing blood as he fought to remain conscious. He lasted one minute. Then five. Then fifteen.
After thirty minutes, his will finally broke, and darkness swallowed him whole.
Inside the tempering bath, the mixture of herbs and natural treasures slowly infused into Sifir's skin, mending his cracked bones, repairing his ruined meridians, closing the cracks in his core, and restoring his overworked muscles.
Outside the room where Sifir was undergoing body tempering, Litework and Scatter Breeze stood there monitoring his condition.
"How many times do you think this little guy can undergo this process?" Scatter Breeze threw out the casual comment.
"Don't know. Our only concern is making sure this guy doesn't die on our watch," Litework replied while writing in her notebook.
"You're not interested in how many times he can make it?"
Scatter Breeze broke into laughter.
"Not really. Unless you're willing to put something on the line."
Litework finally looked up from her notebook.
"Oh, I am. Let's see… Are you willing to put up your Tier 4 potion?"
Litework frowned.
"You are extremely greedy. Going after one of my greatest works. So be it. Are you willing to put up your Tier 3 rune formation?"
"Hahaha! You are not a shy one. Very good!"
"What is the bet, Scatter Breeze?"
"I heard there are enough materials for the tempering bath to last for a year. Soooooooo, my bet is that this little guy won't last five months."
Scatter Breeze burst out laughing, hugging himself like a madman.
Litework tilted her head with amusement.
"Ha! I give him eight months."
"Do you want to do straight up, no plus or minus?"
"You're funny, Scatter Breeze. We will have plus or minus one month. If he fails to make it to the fifth month, it's your win. If he makes it to the sixth month, it's also your win. However, if he makes it to the seventh month, it's my win. And if he makes it to the eighth or ninth month, it's my win as well."
"Aren't you placing too much trust in this little guy?"
"Not trust. I need a new test subject, and mostly, I'll be his doctor moving forward. If I win, it will be a win-win for me and a loss for you, Scatter Breeze."
Litework laughed manically, yet her laugh was warm and cheerful, unlike Scatter Breeze's, which sounded like that of a lunatic.
Meanwhile, in the room, Beyond Blue could only watch her young master endure the tempering bath.
"Please, young master! You have to make it through this."