Otherworldly Medicine King

Chapter 6 : Medicine That Reforges the Body, Strength That Defies Fate

On the Tianling Continent, there was no such thing as an ordinary medicine.

If something grew from the soil, whether it was a leaf, a root, a seed, or even a twisted vine hiding beneath the earth, it carried spiritual energy within it. That was simply how the world worked. The only real difference between one medicine and another was how much power it contained and how dangerous it could become in careless hands.

The medicines stored on the first floor of the Spirit Medicine Hall were the simplest of them all. They were only lightly processed, sometimes barely cleaned, and almost never refined. Their effects were slow and gentle, meant to build the body over time instead of changing it in an instant. Some could be eaten directly if one did not mind the bitter taste. Others needed to be boiled into thick, dark brews that smelled unpleasant but worked well enough.

These medicines were meant for beginners. For strengthening the body. For supporting low-level cultivation. Nothing more.

To most members of the clan, this floor was little more than a formality. A place you passed through on your way to somewhere more important. Nobody lingered here unless they had to.

For Nolan King, however, it felt like stepping into a puzzle with half the pieces missing.

He walked slowly between the rows of wooden shelves, his footsteps soft against the stone floor. Each shelf was carved with neat, ancient lettering, names passed down through generations. He read them one by one, his gaze moving carefully, almost cautiously.

The deeper he went, the more his brow tightened.

Most of the names meant nothing to him.

A few sounded faintly familiar, like words heard long ago in a dream, but that was all. He could not remember what they did, how they interacted with other herbs, or whether they were safe to combine. The knowledge simply was not there.

That was not surprising.

The original owner of this body had never belonged in the Spirit Medicine Hall. His constitution had always been weak. His cultivation had lagged behind others his age. His future had been uncertain from the very beginning. Whenever medicine was needed, he had relied on refined pills purchased outside the clan. They were costly and often ineffective, but he had never known another way.

Those pills were not designed for someone like him. They demanded a stronger foundation than he possessed.

Years of poor health had done more than drain his strength. They had worn down his resolve as well. He had never studied herbs. Never learned alchemy. Never believed that his body was worth saving in the first place.

And besides, nobody usually came here alone.

Young disciples were almost always accompanied by elders or senior members of the clan. Someone experienced would point at a shelf and say exactly what to take, how much to take, and when to take it. There was no room for curiosity. No room for mistakes. The hall existed for obedience, not exploration.

Someone like Nolan, walking in alone without guidance or preparation, was unusual.

He stopped in the middle of the hall.

A quiet, humorless laugh slipped from his lips.

“Am I really going to leave with nothing?”

Spirit medicines were not meant to be taken blindly. Swallowing random body-strengthening herbs might bring small benefits, but without balance and proper combinations, most of their power would be wasted. At best, they would offer a fraction of their true potential.

Perhaps one tenth.

And one tenth was not enough.

Not for someone whose fate had already been written as failure.

Just as disappointment began to settle in his chest, his gaze suddenly stopped.

It fixed itself on a small wooden box placed neatly along the fifth row of shelves.

His breath caught.

“Tianxinzi?”

The name itself was plain, almost unimpressive. But to Nolan King, it struck like thunder.

For the first time since entering the Spirit Medicine Hall, something bright flared in his eyes.

Recognition.

Excitement.

This herb did not belong to this world, at least not in his memories of it.

It belonged to another life.

A world he had once known intimately.

In that life, Nolan had chosen the path of alchemy. While others chased strength through combat and martial techniques, he had buried himself in books, formulas, and endless experiments. He memorized herb records the way warriors memorized battle stances. He refined potions, adjusted recipes, and tested combinations that most people ignored.

To him, herbs were never just ingredients.

They were tools.

And this one was painfully familiar.

Tianxinzi was a core component in a basic strengthening potion he had used countless times before. A low-tier formula, simple but effective. When consumed, it temporarily enhanced the body’s constitution, making it far easier to endure training and cultivation.

For experienced practitioners, it was nothing special.

For beginners, it was a miracle.

Nolan opened the box carefully.

Inside were tiny red granules, each no larger than a grain of rice. Smooth to the touch. Warm, as if they still held a trace of life. He picked one up and rolled it slowly between his fingers.

The texture was right.

The faint herbal scent was right.

Every detail matched his memory.

A slow smile spread across his face.

“Good,” he murmured.

Without hesitation, he gathered a generous amount and wrapped it neatly in the white paper provided by the hall.

His steps grew faster after that.

If this herb existed here, then the strengthening formula might be possible as well.

And even if it failed, there was little risk.

The medicines on this floor could be consumed directly. At worst, they would provide minor benefits. At best, they might change everything.

He did not allow himself to dwell on that thought.

Hope could be dangerous. But despair was far worse.

He moved on, eyes sharper now, scanning the shelves with purpose.

Another name caught his attention.

Then another.

One by one, familiar ingredients appeared before him, each one fitting perfectly into a formula he had not touched in years. He selected them carefully, measuring by instinct rather than calculation.

His movements became smoother, more confident, like a craftsman rediscovering old tools long forgotten.

By the time he reached the end of the hall, only one ingredient remained.

His gaze shifted toward the final shelves.

They were clearly marked.

Mildly Toxic.

Highly Toxic.

He did not even glance at the second section.

Without hesitation, he stepped toward the first.

“Crimson Demon Flower.”

The moment he read the name, the tension in his shoulders eased.

This was the last piece.

He opened the box.

Inside lay deep crimson petals with jagged edges and a sharp, metallic scent. Dangerous if handled incorrectly, but essential when used in controlled amounts. He gathered what he needed, careful but unafraid.

The rules were simple.

No more than five types of herbs.

Total weight within the allowed limit.

With four neatly wrapped packets in hand, Nolan approached the counter.

The old man guarding the hall looked half asleep. Thin, balding, his eyes barely open, as if the world had bored him for decades. Nolan placed the packets down without a word.

One by one, the man lifted them and brought them close to his nose.

He spoke slowly.

Each name.

Each measure.

When he reached the final packet, his movements paused.

For a brief moment, he looked up.

His dull eyes sharpened slightly as they met Nolan’s gaze. A flicker of surprise crossed his face, gone almost as soon as it appeared.

He said nothing.

No warning.

No advice.

No questions.

A moment later, his eyelids drooped again, and he returned to his quiet lethargy.

Nolan bowed, collected his herbs and token, and turned away.

As he stepped outside the Spirit Medicine Hall, sunlight washed over him.

It felt different now.

Clearer.

Sharper.

Alive.

After exchanging a brief greeting with a familiar face along the path, Nolan quickened his pace. His heart pounded, not from exertion, but from anticipation.

Tonight would decide everything.

Whether fate remained unbroken or finally bent to his will would depend on fire, herbs, and a gamble he could no longer avoid.