The heavy wooden door closed behind Aelric with a muted thud, sealing the room in a suffocating stillness. A faint medicinal scent clung to the air—bitter herbs, crushed spirit leaves, and the coppery undertone of corrupted blood.
The First Young Master lay on the bed like a fallen snow statue.
His skin, once full of vitality, had turned a disturbing shade of blackish-blue. Veins crawled beneath the surface like dark rivers, pulsing faintly as if struggling to carry poisoned blood through dying channels.
The elders, standing along the walls, wore expressions carved from grief and failure.
Sect Leader Jian Wuhen stood closest to the bed, hands clenched behind him, the façade of a leader barely masking the dread in his eyes.
Aelric took in the scene with the same calm he reserved for all things—neither sorrow nor urgency reflected in his crimson gaze. Only observation.
Hex's faint glow flickered within Aelric's robe, silent for once, as if the gravity of the situation muted even his mischievous tone.
Aelric's gaze swept briefly over each person present, then over the First Young Master's body. With knowledge now gained from the library, he could discern the flow of martial energy within the young man's meridians.
Lower stage of First-Rate, he concluded.
Considering the Azure Heaven Sect had only two elders at the upper stage of First-Rate, and Sect Leader Jian Wuhen himself was merely at the entry stage of the Peak Realm, this young man's talent stood out like a blazing star in the night sky. If nurtured properly, he could rise far beyond this small sect—perhaps even reach the realm of Martial Master, the peak of mortal martial arts.
A rare seed.
One worth saving.
But that was not the reason Aelric stepped forward.
He had been asked to treat the illness.
He would treat it.
Nothing more.
He turned slightly, speaking in a calm, even voice that carried no doubt.
"Close all the windows and doors. Everyone except the Sect Leader must leave."
For a moment, silence crashed through the room.
The elders looked at Jian Wuhen in alarm.
The medical staff exchanged uncertain glances.
The servants froze in place, unsure if they had misheard.
Only the Sect Leader held Aelric's steady gaze.
Jian Wuhen swallowed, then nodded slowly.
"Everyone… leave us."
The order rippled through the room. Elders bowed stiffly, servants rushed out, and the last physician closed the door behind him with trembling fingers.
Now, it was only Aelric, the dying young master, and the Sect Leader.
No more eyes.
No unnecessary noise.
Aelric moved to the bedside and placed two fingers lightly upon the young man's wrist.
A gentle pulse surged through his touch.
His essence seeped inward, flowing through the First Young Master's meridians like a crimson thread.
He examined.
And what he saw was devastation.
Meridians frayed like torn silk.
Blood vessels ruptured, leaking impurities.
Poison ravaged organs with corrosive brutality, eating away vitality with each passing second.
Aelric's expression didn't change, but for an instant, the room grew colder—as if the calmness he exuded was not serenity, but a void swallowing emotion itself.
Then he acted.
The crimson rings of his eyes darkened slightly as he allowed a sliver of his true nature to surface. Essence flowed from his fingertips, slipping into the young master's bloodstream, weaving through poison like a silent predator.
Hex whispered inside him.
[You're really doing it, huh?]
Aelric didn't respond.
He simply absorbed.
A low hum filled the room.
Veins along Aelric's hand bulged, turning blackish as poison surged into him. Sweat gathered on his forehead, sliding down in thin trails, yet his breathing never faltered.
To Jian Wuhen, the sight was terrifying.
"You… you're absorbing it directly?"
His voice cracked despite his attempt to remain steady.
Absorbing poison of this level should have crippled a normal man instantly. Even cultivators wouldn't dare swallow such death willingly.
But Aelric continued as if his body was a bottomless abyss consuming corruption itself.
His calmness only unsettled the Sect Leader more.
Hours passed.
The poison's flow began to thin.
Aelric finally withdrew his hand.
His skin returned to its usual pale hue, though faint traces of darkened blood lingered beneath the surface. He wiped his forehead, not from exhaustion, but from the heat generated by refining the toxin.
He straightened to his full height.
"Any more," he said evenly, "and the boy will suffer from blood depletion rather than poison. His body cannot sustain greater loss. The remaining treatment must be through pills and medicine arts."
Jian Wuhen exhaled in relief, nearly stumbling forward.
"The color—his skin—it's changing!"
Indeed, the First Young Master's complexion had begun to shift.
The sickly blackish-blue faded slowly, replaced by a muted shade of life. The faint rise and fall of his chest steadied.
A spark of hope lit the Sect Leader's tired eyes.
Aelric glanced at the young master one last time.
"He will awaken in some hours. Provide recovery pills—preferably ones that restore inner energy and stabilize meridians. Under no circumstances should he use martial force for the next week."
Jian Wuhen bowed deeply.
Not with the courtesy owed to a guest.
But the reverence given to someone who pulled a son from the edge of death.
"Thank you… Esteemed Divine Doctor."
Aelric raised a hand slightly.
"Compensation."
Jian Wuhen blinked. "Ah—yes, of course!"
He hurried toward the door, calling for his servant.
When the elders returned and saw their First Young Master's visible improvement, relief washed over them like a tide. They bowed repeatedly.
"Thank you, Divine Doctor!"
"We owe you the young master's life!"
A servant arrived with a heavy bag of coins—10,000 in total. The gold glimmered faintly under the lantern light, each coin the weight of the sect's gratitude.
Aelric accepted the payment quietly.
Money was merely a resource.
A means to an end.
He gave a final series of instructions—diet, treatment schedule, further precautions—and then stepped out of the room, his steps silent, composed.
Hex stayed silent until they were halfway across the courtyard.
Then—
[Hey.]
Aelric didn't pause.
[Why did you absorb the poison? You could've just forced it out of his body. That's how normal healers do it. You didn't have to shove that death sludge into yourself!]
Aelric stopped walking for a moment, glancing up at the dim lanterns swaying gently in the wind.
"I did not absorb it."
Hex spun in confusion.
[Huh? But I saw—]
"I refined it," Aelric said calmly. "Through my core."
Hex froze midair like a stunned chick.
[You… what?]
"That poison belongs to me now."
Aelric resumed walking.
"I can replicate it whenever I wish."
Hex's glow flickered erratically.
[You turned a deadly poison into your own weapon just by touching it. Do you have any idea how absurd that sounds?]
Aelric didn't answer.
He didn't need to.
His nature spoke for him.
The night wind brushed against him as he reached the guest house provided by the sect. He entered the dimly lit room and placed the heavy bag of gold on the table.
He opened it, the coins clinking softly.
Without hesitation, he withdrew exactly 500 gold coins.
Hex narrowed his light.
[Why only five hundred? What about the rest?]
Aelric didn't explain.
He never wasted words unnecessarily.
He stored the remainder away, his thoughts already drifting elsewhere.
There was something he wanted—something he had seen in the marketplace but had lacked the funds for.
A simple artifact by cultivation standards, but a valuable tool nonetheless.
The storage ring.
It was priced modestly, merely 200 gold coins, yet it offered convenience beyond measure—space manipulation, item storage, and concealment.
Hex floated around him eagerly.
[So we're going to buy it now?]
Aelric stepped out into the evening air, tying his robe lightly and placing the coins securely within.
"Yes."
His voice carried the same calm certainty as always.
With the moon high above Yunlai Village and lanterns glowing softly along the main street, Aelric walked toward the bustling marketplace—his steps steady, his expression Calm, his presence quiet yet suffocatingly composed.
His next move had already been decided.
And the night parted before him as if sensing a force that did not belong to this world.