Hansen narrowed his eyes at the gray night sky. “This scent of blood… it doesn’t belong to ordinary people.”Albert nodded slowly, his aged face somber. “And it’s ancient. Like a poison buried for centuries, waiting for the right moment to kill.”He walked to the herbal table, opened a hidden drawer, and tossed a glowing talisman to Hansen.“Take this. If you see a creature without a shadow tonight, use that talisman without hesitation. It’s the only ward I’ve ever made—and even I’m not sure I can make another.”Hansen tucked the talisman behind his belt. “Should I leave this place? I don’t want to bring danger to your home.”Albert let out a soft chuckle. “If I feared danger, I wouldn’t have been a healer for fifty years. But I want you to survive, Hansen. You’re different from any student or patient I’ve ever treated.”Meanwhile…At the bottom of a pitch-black ravine beyond the city, a stone gate creaked open. A chill wind and eerie whispers flowed out. Four hooded figures emerged—s

The golden bell rang, signaling the start of the trial.DONGGG!!Flames erupted almost simultaneously in eighteen of the twenty furnaces. The contestants moved quickly—some began heating their base liquids, others sliced spirit roots, while a few scattered powders in specific orders. The clinking of tools and the roar of fire created the distinct rhythm of an alchemist’s kitchen: busy, dense, urgent.But…Among them all, Hansen stood still.He didn’t move. Didn’t reach for ingredients. Didn’t ignite his fire. He merely stood there, hands behind his back, eyes fixed on the metal furnace before him as if waiting for something.People began to glance at one another.“Who is that?” one contestant whispered, frowning. “Why hasn’t he started?”The crowd behind the protective barrier started murmuring louder. Even a few elders from the Pavilion furrowed their brows. One of them, Elder Hua, sneered, “Did he forget why he came here? Or is he just arrogant?”Hansen heard. He knew every mocking

The evening sky glowed in shades of orange and crimson as Hansen and Yorgi strolled through the streets, heading back to Albert’s residence. Their steps were light, and their faces bore barely hidden satisfaction.Yorgi burst into loud laughter, his distinct voice echoing through the narrow alleys, prompting a few merchants to glance over in confusion.“Did you see Elder Ren’s face?! Hahaha! As red as a boiled crab!” he shouted.Hansen gave a small smile. “If I could, I’d slap them with the pill I just refined.”“Damn shame that pill’s too valuable to waste like that,” Yorgi replied, slapping Hansen’s shoulder while chuckling.When they reached Albert’s residence, the door creaked open softly. The old healer was watering his plants in the backyard. As he saw them arrive, he raised an eyebrow.“So? How did it go? You both look like two men who just set fire to the Alchemy Pavilion.”Yorgi answered quickly, nearly speaking over Hansen.“We won! But… also lost!”“We didn’t win on paper,

The morning sun pierced the thin mountain fog. At the mouth of the cave, Hansen exhaled deeply as he checked his horse’s condition. The animal now stood tall and steady, its breathing stable, and the wound on its leg fully healed.“Good,” Hansen murmured, gently patting the horse’s neck. “We need to move quickly.”He washed his face with water from the leather pouch he carried, then leapt onto the saddle. Without another word, he pulled the reins. The horse neighed softly before galloping down the rocky valley, cutting through dry plains and narrow paths heading north.Truthfully, Hansen could have flown. With his Early Divine Realm cultivation, he was capable of soaring for hundreds of kilometers without issue. But burning energy just to reach a destination was not his way.“Better to keep this body fresh… in case I need to fight.”Half a day later, after crossing two small forests and a winding valley road, the northern territory finally came into view.In the distance, a grand gate

The twilight wind began sweeping through the rubble at the center of Roso City. Dust slowly settled, and the scent of spiritual embers still lingered in the air. Amidst the destruction, Simon Kertanegara stood tall, his robe tattered and the front of his chest charred from the dragon-aura strike. His eyes stared blankly toward the sky, following the path Hansen had taken. Drops of blood dripped from the corner of his lips, but he didn’t wipe them. He remained motionless, as if frozen in place. “You almost… destroyed the Kertanegara Clan,” he murmured with deep gravity, turning his head toward his still-shaking nephew on the ground. The Second Young Master Kertanegara, who had once been so arrogant, now looked like a child who had just lost his favorite toy. His face was pale, and his eyes were filled with terror. He lowered his head, not daring to look at his uncle. “S-sorry, Uncle…” he whispered, voice nearly inaudible. “I… I was just defending myself. He bumped into me. He st