“Now die, traitor!”

Kiro struggled against his invisible shackles, but it was no use. They had been found! But whose aura was so strong as to be comparable to a Saint’s? Something flashed in the corner of his vision, and then —

One moment, they were inside, and the next, they were falling onto soft grass, a hundred paces away from where they once were. The pressure around them dispersed, and Kiro got to his knees just in time to see his home explode in a burst of orange flames.

And the source of the attack…

He should have realized that the matriarch had been far beyond the Ninth Purification.

A beam of concentrated fire hurtled towards them, and Aer raised a hand, knocking it off to the side. “Kiro, would you mind making that elixir now?”

“Honored Saint?” He stumbled upright, still staring at the flaming heap that had once been his home. “B-but I don’t have anything to use —”

Something bumped into his shoulder, and he realized that the Saint’s alchemical equipment was still next to them, lazily bobbing in the air.

“I have other methods to get you guys out, but those are all a little more… risky. It’d be much better if you could just concoct your elixir.” The Immortal gave him a smile, summoning a pair of twin blades to her hands.

“But — but the matrairch!”

“Don’t worry. I’ll handle her.” The Saint disappeared, and the sky was filled with clashing techniques.

They were far too fast to track, but despite that, he could still see the aftermath of their skirmishes. Clouds dissipated underneath a rain of fire, and slashes of wind cleaved away half the surrounding forest. And, in the distance, craters appeared in the earth, Paradise itself cracking under the force of their blows.

He stared at them, awe and fear mixing inside him in equal quantities. This was what an Immortal was capable of — so much power that a thousand Warriors couldn’t even compare. Which was also the power Hong Ma held.

He shuddered, turning back to his alchemy. This was their one chance to escape her, and he needed to help.

Ingredients. Dayspore. Crimson lotus. Frostfrond…

He cursed.

The pouches didn’t have frostfrond. He double checked. Then he looked on the ground, desperately scanning for any leftover pouches of herbs. None.

What could he do?

He turned to the skyward battle, but all thoughts of yelling to Aer left as soon as he caught another glimpse of the two fighters. This was bad. Very bad. He slapped himself, trying to think of a solution. His mind was too sluggish, fatigue and emotional turmoil rendering him inefficient and clumsy. If only he had…

Sparkleaf. Saint-level sparkleaf.

The green-and-yellow herb went into his mouth, and his thoughts instantly cleared. His limbs positively burst with energy, and he laid the pouches out in front of him, laughing. So this was the power of a real alchemist.

Booms rang out as Aer and the matriarch continued fighting, and he looked at the others. Rynn was still staring into the sky, but upon noticing his gaze, Seira turned to him.

“Do you need help?”

He tossed her the crimson lotus, pointing to a floating bowl. “Grind that, and put it in there.”

“Right.” She snatched a mortar and pestle from the air, working with all the efficiency of a mystic of the Seventh Purification.

Now, he could focus on the real problem. Frostfrond was needed for its opposing aspect to fire, but it wasn’t the only herb aspected with ice. Winter’s heart... pearlthorn… he grinned, grabbing a handful of bright blue berries. Snowguard.

It had nearly the same mana contents as frostfrond, but it held far more liquid than frostfrond. Rather than hold together in a paste, it would dissolve in the elixir before the reaction even had a chance to start.

A wave of burning ash spewed from the sky, and he grinned. Fire.

Seira finished grinding the crimson lotus, and he grabbed her arm. “Seira, I’m going to need your help. When I start mashing these, I need you to torch them and evaporate the excess liquid. Are you healed enough to do that?”

She nodded, conjuring a wisp of fire on the tip of her finger.

The preparations began, and the mashed berries slowly congealed, forming a rough substitute for his traditional frostfrond paste.

A meteoric blast of crimson flame sped towards them, but Aer appeared in front of it, manifesting a barrier of solid wind. Her eyes were glowing, and lightning crackled around her every movement, but he could see that some of her robes had been burned away.

“Aer! Are you okay?”

She flashed him a grin, batting aside yet another technique with a pure-white blade. “I’m fine! Just still recovering from an old wound, so I can’t use my full power.”

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His eyes widened. This wasn’t even her full power?

“Plus, my defensive techniques are mainly based around avoiding attacks, and your matriarch keeps attacking you and then taking advantage of my —”

Hong Ma appeared beside them, and Aer flashed to the side, releasing an arc of concentrated wind.

“Away from them, you old hag!”

The matriarch dodged to the side, sending a lance of fire directly at Rynn. “You dare say that to me? You have stolen my personal property!”

Then, the lance disappeared into conjured clouds, and the two shot away.

Rynn looked at him, fists clenched. “Finish the elixir.”

“I am.” He crouched to the ground, turning the burner on to the highest rune. Then, he poured some water in a vial, setting it on top. It would take a while to heat, but —

Seira took the vial, instantly heating it to a boil. “Is this okay?”

He gave her a thankful grin. “Absolutely.”

He took a deep breath, grabbing it in a set of gleaming silver tongs. The dayspore went in first. Three pinches dissolved without a hitch, and he nodded to himself. That was good. Now it was time for the crimson lotus.

He reached for the bowl, and —

A crash shook the ground beneath them. He yelped, and despite his efforts to stabilize himself, it all spilled onto the forest floor.

Heavens.

Thankfully, the snowguard hadn’t spilled.

As fast as he could, he ground up another batch.

This had to work. It had to.

Dayspore. Crimson Lotus. Combine. He swirled the vial, sighing in relief as the ingredients combined as expected. It looked as if the Saint-level ingredients would work after all. Now, he just needed the snowguard.

He cranked the burner up a notch, carefully watching as the water returned to boiling. Then, as carefully as he could with a world-shaking battle happening around him, he brushed the paste in.

Blue flames shot out from the neck of the bottle, nearly scorching his face in their intensity.

Then, the liquid brightened to a near blinding level, and he had to blink spots away from his eyes before examining the nascent elixir. Would it work?

A lance of fire landed just a few paces away from them, and he shook off any doubts. The Saint believed in him, and he was working with ingredients far beyond any he had used before. He could do this.

The catalyst went in, and… nothing happened.

What? He had measured everything according to plan, but somehow the formula had failed.

Then, the liquid started glowing. But it wasn’t the pure, soothing white of a successful concoction. No, this glow was an angry red, the mark of an excess of fire built up in the liquid.

With a normal elixir, a failure would simply result in the concoction heating up a tad and the entire solution losing potency. However, with ingredients from a Saint…

He scrambled away from the volatile solution, eyes widening in panic. Seira! Run!”

But instead of heeding his advice, his sister came closer, grabbing the elixir in both hands.

“What are you doing?” Rynn turned away from the still-going battle, staring at her in confusion.

She closed her eyes, murmuring to herself. And after a moment of silence, she inhaled.

She breathed out, and the elixir’s light dimmed just the slightest amount.

“Seira! It’s going to explode —”

She exhaled again. And again. With each breath, the red light faded, and the blue shone brighter. “I can’t sense the frost, but I know how much mana I added by torching the berries. I’m just pulling away enough so that…”

Lightning thundered in the sky, and as the two colors matched each other once more, the catalyst activated.

Light washed over everything around him, and even with his eyes closed it painted his vision blinding white. Yet, it didn’t hurt to look at it like the blue light had. Rather, it was calm. Steady, like the surface of a still lake, but with just the tiniest hint of fire burning beneath it all. Just how it should have been.

It had worked!

Seira cheered, handing him the freshly made elixir. “You — you actually did it! Now drink it, and we can be on our way.”

He accepted his new creation, marveling at its peculiar heat. Despite having been boiling just seconds ago, it was now only slightly warmer than he was, an effect he was certain hadn’t been present in the weaker version.

Now, in his very hands, he held the power to become a mystic. The strength he had been missing his entire life was now just a gulp away, and nobody would be able to take it away.

He reached to unstopper the vial… but hesitated. This was an uncontrolled solution, only made stable by Seira’s last minute manipulation. What if it exploded inside him, or worse — if it worked too well, and his core was unable to take it? He gritted his teeth, trying to estimate how much stronger this elixir was from the previous one. Would he —

“If you won’t take it, then I will.” A ginormous flame serpent roared into existence, and Rynn took the vial from his hands, downing half of it in an instant.

“Saint!”

The man called out to the heavens, and Aer appeared once more, a bloody gash running down her right shoulder. “Is it done?”

Rynn nodded. “I feel…”

His body burst into flames, and black liquid seeped from his skin, impurities expelled by the resonance of his mana. Yet, despite being on fire, he didn’t burn. Instead, the flames flared even higher, stoked by the man’s spirit.

“Amazing.”

Then, the serpent coiled in the sky, and the matriarch cackled with delight. “My living mana, rise! King's Bane, Emperor's Strife! Serpent to Consume the Heavens!”

A barrier of wind flared around them, and the technique crashed against it, shooting out a wave of debris from the impact.

Aer winced, and she motioned for Rynn to give the rest of the elixir to Kiro. “Just drink up, and we can get away from this heavens-damned world.”

“Yes, honored Saint.” He took the vial in both hands, hastily bringing it to his lips.

He drank down the liquid, and…

It was as if he had swallowed a coursing river. Steady energy flowed through every fiber of his being, and he gasped, feeling the rushing power pool in his abdomen. That was his core! He closed his eyes, waiting for the purification to begin, and —

“I won’t let you get away again!”

His eyes fluttered open, and he took a step back as the barrier shattered under the might of the conjured serpent. The matriarch grinned in triumph, and Aer looked at him, concern etched on her face.

“W-why isn’t it working? Why am I not advancing?” Panic welled inside of him, and he fell, gripping the Saint’s robes. Had the clan been right all along? Was it impossible for him to be a mystic?

The raging snake reared back, and he looked up, straight into its all-encompassing maw. It was all over, because he was too talentless to cultivate, even with a Saint’s assistance. His core was filled to the brim, packed so full that he could have sworn it would overflow at any moment. But because of his weakness, it wouldn’t. He would die here

Then, two fingers jabbed into his dantian, and it felt as if he was being ripped in two.