Otherworldly Medicine King

Chapter 10: From Humiliation to Ascension

Leo stood still.

Too still.

Not a single muscle moved, not even his eyelids. It was as if the world around him had slowed to a halt, frozen in the middle of a breath that never finished. His eyes were open, but empty. No focus. No awareness. His chest rose and fell unevenly, shallow like someone who had run far too hard or taken a blow straight to the spirit.

“Leo?”

Eren frowned as he stepped closer. He followed Leo’s gaze, but whatever Leo was staring at, it was not there. “What is wrong with you? Why are you just standing there like that?”

Marcus glanced over as well and snorted.

“Do not tell me you are scared of that garbage,” he said, his tone sharp with mockery.

Garbage.

That word hit Leo like a slap.

His body jolted violently. His fingers tightened around the small jade-colored bottle in his hand, gripping it so hard that his knuckles began to ache. His hands started to tremble.

No.

That was impossible.

There was no way.

“This… this…” Leo tried to speak, but the sound that came out was rough and broken, as if his throat had been scraped raw. “This cannot be…”

Only then did Victor notice that something was wrong.

A faint unease crept into his chest. His brows furrowed as he stretched out his hand, already irritated. “Enough nonsense. Stop stuttering and hand it over.”

Leo did not dare delay.

Cold sweat soaked his back as he hurried forward. He bowed deeply, lifting the bottle with both hands as if offering something sacred, or dangerous. The moment the bottle touched Victor’s palm, Leo lowered his head even further. His heart hammered so hard it felt like it might burst.

Please. Please do not let this be real.

The stopper came loose with a soft sound.

And in an instant, the room changed.

A rich fragrance poured into the air. It was thick and unmistakable, filling every corner of the room. It was not sharp or overwhelming. It did not sting the senses.

Instead, it felt deep and clean. Comforting.

Like warm rain soaking into dry earth.

Inside the bottle, a milky white liquid shimmered faintly. Dense spiritual energy coiled within it, so pure that even an untrained eye could feel its presence.

There was no doubt.

It was Rejuvenation Essence.

Not a substitute.

Not diluted.

Not a clever fake.

It was genuine.

Worse still, judging by its clarity and richness, it was even purer than the bottle Victor himself had given Luna.

Victor did not need to taste it.

The moment the spiritual aura brushed against his senses, his heart sank. Cold. Heavy. Final.

At least fifteen thousand gold coins.

Probably more.

His fingers tightened around the bottle until his knuckles turned pale.

Across the room, Nolan sat at the edge of the bed.

Relaxed.

Almost lazy.

One leg crossed over the other, shoulders loose, posture casual. A faint smile rested on his lips, the kind of smile that said he was in no hurry at all.

“Careful,” Nolan said mildly. “If you crush it, I will not replace it.”

Silence fell.

Victor slowly raised his head.

“Good,” he said through clenched teeth. “Very good.”

His gaze shot toward Nolan, sharp and cutting. Then it shifted to Leo, Eren, and Marcus. The hostility in his eyes was no longer hidden.

Just moments ago, Victor had been enjoying himself.

Watching Nolan retreat.

Watching him swallow his pride.

Watching him backed into a corner with nowhere to go.

It had tasted sweet.

Now it tasted bitter.

From the moment the bottle appeared, Victor understood the truth.

He had made a fool of himself.

Smiling. Posturing. Performing.

All while the audience laughed behind his back.

Leo, Eren, and Marcus shrank under his stare. None of them dared breathe too loudly.

They had sworn repeatedly that Nolan was broke. That there was no chance he could afford something like this.

Now the Third Heir had lost face.

And when he lost face, someone always paid.

Victor laughed suddenly.

The sound was hollow.

“Nolan,” he said slowly, the smile never touching his eyes, “it seems I underestimated you.”

“You flatter me,” Nolan replied calmly.

In Victor’s plan, Nolan had been nothing more than a crippled fish on a chopping block. Helpless. Waiting.

Instead, the fish had jumped up and slapped him across the face.

There was no way Victor would let this end quietly.

The smile vanished from his face.

“Unfortunately,” he said coldly, “even if you return the Rejuvenation Essence, it changes nothing.”

He reached into his sleeve and pulled out a folded piece of paper. With a sharp flick of his wrist, he snapped it open.

“I still have the debt agreement Luna signed when she borrowed it,” he continued. “Black ink. White paper. Clear and binding.”

The paper rustled as he waved it slightly.

“Leo,” Victor said. “Read it.”

Leo’s heart leapt.

Hope surged through his chest as he stepped forward and took the paper with both hands. He cleared his throat, dragging out the moment.

“On this day, I borrow one bottle of Rejuvenation Essence from Victor Gray,” he read aloud. “If I fail to return it within three days, I agree to repay the debt with my service, becoming a servant at Victor Gray’s disposal.”

He paused, then smiled.

“Signed by Luna. Ninth month, twenty third day, Year 9997.”

Victor narrowed his eyes. “What day is it today?”

Leo bowed. “Today is the twenty eighth. The deadline passed two days ago.”

The air grew heavy.

Then someone laughed.

It was quiet. Almost amused.

Nolan lifted a hand as if covering a cough. His eyes sparkled faintly.

“Victor,” he said casually, “are you certain that agreement was written by my sister in law herself?”

Victor shook the paper. “The handwriting is hers. And even if it were not, what about the handprint?”

Leo jumped in eagerly. “With this agreement, Luna already belongs to the Third Heir. Even the Elders would rule in his favor.”

Nolan remained calm.

“I will ask once more,” he said evenly. “Did she truly write this herself?”

“Of course,” Victor replied without hesitation.

Nolan looked at him.

There was no anger in his eyes.

Only something close to pity.

“Perhaps you were not aware,” Nolan said lightly, “but before my sister in law married into our family, she lost her memory.”

Victor frowned. “What are you saying?”

“She forgot many things,” Nolan continued. “Including how to write. At present, the only thing she can write is her own name.”

Silence crashed down.

Leo froze.

Eren and Marcus stared blankly.

Victor’s expression twisted. “That is impossible.”

“Is it?” Nolan smiled faintly. “The elder who officiated my brother’s marriage knows this well. You are welcome to ask him.”

The moment those words sank in, Leo shut his mouth.

Eren’s face drained of color.

Marcus swallowed hard.

Victor’s expression shifted violently. He stood up in one sharp motion.

“Nolan,” he said darkly, “in over twenty years, this is the first time I have suffered such a loss.”

Nolan’s smile vanished.

“And you have nerve,” he replied coldly. “Tricking my sister in law into pressing her handprint on blank paper and forging a contract afterward. Have you lost your mind?”

“You dare!”

Victor’s vision swam. His face turned a deep shade of purple.

“How dare you insult the Third Heir,” Leo shouted.

Eren and Marcus stepped forward, fists clenched.

“Oh?” Nolan said coolly. “Do you want to fight?”

The air tightened.

“Hahaha. Quite lively in here.”

A booming laugh cut through the tension.

A broad shouldered, bearded middle aged man stepped inside. It was Gareth, the guard stationed at the Medicine Hall.

Nolan stood immediately and bowed. “Greetings, Uncle Gareth.”

Leo and the others went pale and hurried behind Victor.

Victor’s plan collapsed in an instant. His chest felt tight.

“Leave,” he said.

He turned and strode out without another word. The others followed, heads lowered in humiliation.

At the courtyard gate, Luna had just returned with groceries. She froze when she saw them leaving. Panic flashed across her face, and she hurried toward Nolan’s room.

Gareth did not linger.

Before leaving, he handed Nolan two Spirit Refinement Pills. At the gate, he paused and turned back with a grin.

“Judging by your face,” he said, “your cultivation advanced again?”

“Yes,” Nolan replied. “Sixth level.”

Gareth’s eyes widened. “Again?”

Two levels in one day, then another soon after.

Even the clan’s greatest prodigy had never advanced this fast.

After a long pause, Gareth sighed. “I will never understand monsters like you.”

He clapped Nolan’s shoulder. “Keep going. I want to see how far you reach.”

Then his tone grew serious. “Be careful. Victor will not forget this.”

“I know,” Nolan said.

After Gareth left, a quiet warmth lingered.

Soon, the sound of cooking drifted through the courtyard.

Nolan returned to his room.

More than twelve hours had passed since his last refinement.

“Ravena,” he murmured inwardly. “Ready?”

The Phantom Cauldron appeared.

This time, everything felt smooth. Controlled. One ingredient after another merged perfectly. Spiritual power flowed in steady rhythms.

Minutes passed.

The cauldron rotated, glowing patterns flaring in sync with his spirit core.

Nolan entered deep focus.

No distractions.

No hesitation.

This was no longer forced.

This was harmony.

The cauldron slowed.

Milky white liquid poured into the bottle, richer than before, nearly twice as potent.

“Perfect,” Nolan said softly.

This bottle would be sold.

Just not yet.

For now, he stored it away, calm and focused.

The wings that had once been broken were growing stronger.

And this time, they would not break again.