The grand banquet hall buzzed with quiet conversations and elegant laughter as Raymond followed Malisa further inside. The soft hum of string instruments drifted from a raised platform near the stage, and the scent of fine cuisine lingered in the air. Then came a sudden voice, full of excitement. “Brother Raymond!” Immediately a man rushed over in a finely tailored navy-blue suit—young, well-groomed, and practically glowing with energy. It was Malisa’s cousin, the one Raymond had told what he needed to do to treat his fertility problems. “Brother Raymond, you’re amazing!” he blurted out, his eyes shining. “That prescription you gave me—it worked! I mean, it really worked!” He leaned in a little closer and lowered his voice conspiratorially. “Not only did it fix the problem, but I feel stronger than I ever did before. Like… really powerful,” he added, raising his brows as if trying not to say too much in front of his female relatives. Hearing what he just said Raymond blinked on

Raymond stood quietly near the center of the hall, his presence calm, his posture straight, yet utterly unbothered by the awe swirling around Waylon’s pill. While guests gasped and praised the rarity of a second-level alchemist’s work, Raymond’s eyes drifted lazily toward the pill inside the jade box. With just one glance, that was all he needed. From the texture, the glow, and the faint medicinal scent in the air, he immediately saw through it—it was indeed made by a second-level alchemist, but the refining process lacked purity. The spiritual energy was unstable, the balance flawed. It would barely extend a life by two or three years at best, and if taken carelessly, might even cause internal disruption to someone with delicate meridians. It was flashy, but hollow, Raymond showed no admiration. No awe. Not even a raised brow. He simply stood in silence, hands behind his back. And that silence… was noticed. Waylon, still basking in the praise, caught the lack of expression fro

The light flickered across the walls, casting long shadows of Maxwell, who stood, his fingers tapping against the other as he contemplated the path before him. “A place in the Alchemy Association,” he whispered to himself, the words hanging in the air like a promise. For any alchemist worth their salt, the Association represented the pinnacle of their craft. Maxwell had heard the stories since he was a boy—alchemists who joined their ranks no longer scrounged through misty forests at dawn for rare moon blossoms or bartered with suspicious merchants for dragon scale powder. The Association provided everything: rare ingredients, ancient texts, and the collective wisdom of generations.The young Waylon had connections—powerful family connections that could open doors Maxwell had only dreamed of walking through. If he helped the boy now... “I understand what you want, and I'd be a fool to refuse,” Maxwell muttered, straightening his suit. Waylon However didn't say anything, he ju

Then Avery's icy gaze swept back toward Maxwell, her lips curving into a sharp, sarcastic smile.“And for you, for someone who claims expertise,” she said coolly, her voice slicing through the room, “your appraisal just now was an amateur mistake—the kind even a first-year alchemy apprentice wouldn’t dare to make.”The words were like thunderclaps, then the entire banquet hall exploded into chaos.The very same guests who, just moments ago, had looked down on Raymond with disdain now gasped, their faces turned ashen.“Amateur mistake? That pill… it’s not poisonous at all?!”“Dear heavens, we nearly mocked a real master!”One by one, their attitudes flipped like dominoes.A rush of movement followed—some guests scrambled to lower their heads in shame, others hurried to crowd forward, faces red with embarrassment, trying to salvage their dignity.“Mr. Raymond, please forgive our ignorance! It was a misunderstanding—truly!”“You must not blame us—we were deceived too!”The fawning voices

Raymond paused, glancing over his shoulder lazily. Under the pale glow of the light, Avery stood there—her silver hair cascading down like a waterfall, her gown brushing the stone tiles, her presence sharp and noble like. When their eyes met, her heart gave a small, inexplicable jolt. But she quickly composed herself and walked closer, her heels clicking crisply against the ground. “You,” she said, her voice steady, “do you have any idea what you’ve done?” At that moment Raymond raised an eyebrow. “No interest in guessing.” Avery’s lips curved into the faintest smile—one that didn’t quite reach her eyes. “That pill you refined... if submitted to the Association for evaluation, it would rank among the top five in the entire Alchemy Association.” Hearing her words Raymond remained silent, utterly indifferent. Others would have been stunned, humbled, even ecstatic to hear such a thing. But Raymond simply looked at her as if she had commented on the weather. Avery, however, wa