Otherworldly Medicine King

Chapter 8: Ice Water, Blooming Fire

The Spirit Medicine Hall felt wrong the moment Nolan King stepped inside.

It was too quiet.

“Clan token.”

“Register.”

“Choose medicine.”

The voices were sharp and professional, but they echoed through the wide hall and faded quickly, leaving behind an uncomfortable stillness. The hall had only just opened. A few attendants moved about lazily, organizing shelves or standing behind counters. Other than them, there were almost no visitors.

That alone was unusual.

Near the entrance, half hidden by shadow, sat the same bald old man Nolan had seen the day before.

At first glance, it was definitely him.

But the longer Nolan looked, the more something felt off.

Yesterday, the man had seemed frail, hunched, and half asleep. Today, his back was straight. His face carried a healthy color. And when his narrow eyes drifted toward Nolan, there was nothing dull about them.

They were sharp. Alert. Almost amused.

That gaze lingered just a second longer than necessary.

Nolan felt a chill run up his spine.

It was unsettling. As if the old man had taken some kind of powerful medicine overnight and returned reborn, filled with a vitality that did not match his age at all.

Nolan forced himself not to stare.

Whatever this man was, it was none of his business right now.

He completed the registration quickly and moved straight toward the medicine shelves.

White Star Powder.

Fragrant Silk Glazed Root.

Spirit Dream Grass.

Dragon Sprout Algae.

Ice Disk Water.

Five ingredients.

He repeated the list silently in his head. He had done so countless times already. These were the core components needed to refine Rejuvenation Dew. Miss even one, and the entire process would fail.

He moved briskly between the shelves, eyes scanning the labels with practiced efficiency. The Nolan family truly lived up to its reputation. Rare herbs filled the shelves, neatly arranged and carefully preserved. Each one emitted a faint spiritual presence that pressed softly against the senses.

It was the quiet pressure of wealth. Of legacy.

One by one, Nolan collected what he needed.

Fragrant Silk Glazed Root. Found.

Dragon Sprout Algae. Found.

Spirit Dream Grass. Found.

White Star Powder. Found.

Only one ingredient remained.

Ice Disk Water.

He walked to the final row.

Nothing.

Nolan stopped.

He checked again, slower this time. Still nothing.

His brows knitted together.

That made no sense.

Ice Disk Water should have been the most common item here. The Ice Flame Cave behind the Nolan family’s mountain produced it regularly. Even lower ranked members could exchange for small amounts.

There was no logical reason for the Spirit Medicine Hall to be out of stock.

Keeping his expression calm, Nolan spoke inwardly.

“Ravena, how much time do we have?”

The answer came immediately, tinged with urgency.

“About eleven minutes.”

Nolan exhaled slowly.

There was still time. Not much, but enough to try again.

He refused to panic.

He retraced his steps and searched once more, this time with extreme care. His fingers brushed over labels. His eyes scanned every shelf, every corner, even the gaps behind the containers.

Nothing.

When he returned to the first row and confirmed it again, a faint sense of unease settled in his chest.

“Little fellow.”

The voice came from behind him, relaxed and mildly amused.

“Looking for Ice Disk Water?”

Nolan stiffened and turned.

The bald old man was smiling at him now. Not muttering. Not distracted. His eyes were focused entirely on Nolan, curved slightly with a knowing look, as if he had been waiting for this exact moment.

“How did you know?” Nolan asked.

The old man chuckled softly. “Come here.”

He lifted a finger and gestured casually, like an elder calling over a child. Nolan hesitated, then walked toward the counter.

The moment he stopped, the old man rolled his eyes dramatically.

“Hopeless,” he said. “You picked Fragrant Silk Glazed Root, Dragon Sprout Algae, Spirit Dream Grass, and White Star Powder. Anyone paying attention could tell what you are missing.”

Understanding dawned instantly.

Yesterday, this same man had identified medicines purely by scent. Names, quantities, even quality, all without opening a single container.

His mastery was frightening.

“So,” the old man leaned forward, resting his chin on his hand, eyes bright with interest, “you are refining Rejuvenation Dew, aren’t you?”

Nolan paused only briefly before nodding.

There was no reason to deny it.

The old man sighed loudly and shook his head. “All the Ice Disk Water is stored on the second floor. You could search this entire level until nightfall and still find nothing.”

Nolan’s thoughts went blank.

The second floor was restricted.

Only those who had reached a high level of cultivation were allowed inside.

He had no cultivation. No backing. No connections.

Did that mean Rejuvenation Dew was simply beyond his reach for now? Or worse, forever?

The thought pressed down heavily on him.

Then the old man’s expression changed.

He grinned.

“However,” he said lightly, “you are lucky today. I am in a good mood.”

He reached beneath the counter, pulled out a red gourd, and tossed it toward Nolan.

“Half a gourd of Ice Disk Water. Leftover from last night. Take it.”

Nolan barely caught it.

The gourd was warm to the touch and surprisingly heavy.

For a brief moment, he genuinely wondered if he was dreaming.

“Old sir,” he asked carefully, “why help me?”

The old man twirled his thin whiskers, smiling sideways. “You are interesting.”

That answer felt closer to the truth.

Nolan knew his own condition had changed after taking rare medicines the day before. Someone as perceptive as this old man would notice immediately.

This was not kindness.

It was curiosity.

“Thank you,” Nolan said sincerely.

He bowed deeply, then turned and left the Spirit Medicine Hall at full speed.

Outside, he barely had time to acknowledge Nie Qingfeng before vanishing down the path.

Six minutes remained.

There was no time to return home.

Nolan sprinted into a nearby grove where several young men were cultivating or practicing techniques. Their attention was fully turned inward. No one noticed him.

Perfect.

He found a secluded spot, sat down, and began without hesitation.

He measured the herbs carefully and placed them into his mouth one by one, chewing slowly until the flavors blended into a bitter sweet mass. Then he uncorked the gourd and drank.

Cold exploded through him.

Not ordinary cold. It felt like ice tearing through his veins, locking his muscles and stealing his breath.

Ice Disk Water deserved its name.

Nolan clenched his teeth and immediately activated the Five Star Shifting Art. The three spiritual cores within him vibrated as energy surged outward in controlled streams.

One stream worked to neutralize the freezing cold spreading through his body. The other wrapped around the medicinal mixture, extracting its essence strand by strand.

Ravena cried out excitedly, lifting the lid of the phantom cauldron.

“Slow down,” Nolan muttered. “Do not rush.”

Time dragged.

The extraction was painfully slow. Nearly three full minutes passed, and it was still not finished.

Too slow.

If he still possessed his former tools, this would have taken far less time.

His control wavered.

Clang.

The cauldron lid snapped shut. Nolan poured every remaining bit of spiritual energy into it. The cauldron hummed, then spun violently.

Ravena cried out in alarm.

A dull explosion followed.

The lid flew open. The contents were gone, leaving behind only scorched residue.

Silence filled the grove.

“…Failed?” Nolan whispered.

Ravena whimpered softly as the cauldron trembled and distorted.

Guilt washed over him.

“I rushed it,” he said quietly. “That was my mistake.”

This method required no flame, but spiritual power served the same purpose.

Control was everything.

And he had lost it.

Half an hour later, the phantom cauldron dissipated completely. Ravena returned to her sprout form, floating quietly within his body.

Then Nolan noticed something.

A trace of medicinal essence remained.

Fragrant Silk Glazed Root.

He paused.

Only a portion of it was required.

Realization struck, followed by quiet joy.

Even in failure, the process had adjusted itself.

Ravena’s roots twitched and absorbed the remaining essence without hesitation.

By the time the sun began to sink, the training grounds were lively once more.

At the edge, Luna pretended to practice while watching everything around him.

Er Lin ran over. “Nolan King went to the Spirit Medicine Hall.”

Luna sneered. “That place? Did Nie Qingfeng deal with him?”

“No,” Er Lin replied. “They talked. He even struck the stone lion. Everyone looked shocked.”

Luna stiffened.

Another youth rushed over, face flushed with anger. “I tested it. The hidden acupoint trick is fake.”

The truth hit hard.

Luna’s expression twisted with fury. “That sickly bastard.”

He stormed off.

“Let the Third Young Master handle him,” Wu Tong said coldly. “He will not be smiling for long.”

That night, in a quiet courtyard, Nolan stood alone.

“Flower Burst.”

A faint green bloom appeared in his palm, then faded.

“Again,” he muttered.

Ravena drooped.

She was hungry.

Nolan sighed, removed his shirt, and reached for the gold needles.

They trembled. The remaining medicinal power dissolved.

The path ahead was dangerous.

But he was still moving forward.

And this time, he would not stop.