A Song For The Ages

A cool morning mist lingered at the foot of the volcanic cliffs where the Saint Alchemy Branch had carved out a path to one of its most coveted resources: the Molten Cave. Though the name evoked imagery of fire and magma, the exterior of the cave system was deceptively calm, veiled behind layers of formations and regulated by sect-controlled access gates. To those who hadn't earned the right to step closer, it may as well have been a forbidden temple.

Feiyin and Mu walked side by side, the morning dew clinging faintly to their robes. Mu carried a satchel of jade slips and records, documents he had spent the better part of the past few nights acquiring and copying from the exchange hall and casual gossip sources. Feiyin, on the other hand, held a small lacquered box tied with red thread , the product of his newest pill refinement batch.

"So," Mu said, flicking through one of the slips, "the Molten Cave has a few dozens of chambers. Three of those are considered superior-grade, located closest to the volcanic heart. Only first-class disciples and a handful of wealthy second-class ones can afford the rental."

Feiyin nodded. "And the rest?"

"Seven are medium-grade, while the rest are considered standard. All of them are run through a system of rotational allocation based on reservation priority and factional influence. But there's a crack," Mu said with a quiet smile. "Turns out, even factions can't occupy them twenty-four-seven. There's always spillover. The cost, however, is the barrier."

Feiyin smirked. "That's where we start digging."

His plan, formed over weeks of observation and experimentation, was centered on one simple principle: supply creates demand. And demand gives leverage.

Feiyin had spent the past few days refining a series of highly effective, yet still technically Tier 1 pills, adjusted for Qi Manifestation phase cultivators. Most apprentices never bothered because those cultivators typically sought Tier 2 pills. But Feiyin, with his oscillation sense and deep familiarity with herbs and fusion timing, managed to squeeze out far more than what was typical from Tier 1 ingredients.

These pills boasted remarkable efficiency , faster absorption, gentler transition of energy, and improved stability. In short, a Qi Manifestation cultivator could use them to clear up their spiritual sense and make it more precise, which can help them stabilize their cultivation or help them in their crafts and skill usage more efficiently than with most low-end Tier 2 products made by lower-skilled alchemists.

As they passed one of the checkpoint stations manned by two outer disciples in flame-marked armbands, Feiyin paused to scan the nearby postings. Some were cultivation schedules, others notices for material deliveries.

"Here," Mu pointed to one such post. "Faction Crimson Hearth. They control the third and sixth chambers this week. The sixth has an open slot for three hours tomorrow."

Feiyin stared at the notice and smiled slowly.

"They also happen to rely on a single supplier for their recovery pills. What do you think happens if they get offered something better?"

Mu chuckled. "We loosen the wheels of dependency and slip ourselves in."

Feiyin nodded. "First, we donate a few samples to show the performance. If the quality proves superior, curiosity will take over. Then we approach someone lower on the hierarchy."

"Someone who isn't in charge of purchasing decisions but can talk loudly in the right ears."

They made their way around the base of the cave system, eventually arriving at a stone-paved alcove shaded by obsidian overhang. A disciple with a scroll case slung over his back lounged on a rock, half-asleep, barely reacting when they approached.

Feiyin showed his token. "Here to inspect availability."

The disciple blinked, then shrugged. "Check the boards. Priority goes to listed factions."

They moved to the next station, Mu whispering, "Crimson Hearth, Molten Circle, and Ember Coil. Those are the top three factional claimants for standard cultivation room. Each has a dozen to two dozen members, and they're backed by second-class disciples."

Feiyin stared at the cave entrance beyond the warded formations.

"If we can get even a shared slot, even a couple hours a week, it'll do."

The key was not just entering the Molten Cave , it was being seen there. Presence meant recognition. And recognition bred opportunity.

Later that evening, Feiyin set up a table just outside the exchange hall. He displayed a few of the lacquered boxes filled with the freshly refined pills. Word spread quickly. A few third-class disciples wandered over, and one brave second-class disciple sampled a dose.

An hour later, the same second-class returned. This time with three more.

"Who refined these?"

Feiyin simply smiled. "A humble apprentice."

Mu quietly noted each exchange, calculating costs and points gained. The numbers were growing.

The next morning, Feiyin received a request slip tucked under his room door.

Unmarked. Unsigned.

Request for thirty more pills of the same type. Paid in full. Delivery to be made at the neutral zone behind the Essence Exchange Hall.

Feiyin chuckled. "Looks like someone wants plausible deniability."

Mu nodded. "We're in."

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By the week's end, Feiyin had earned enough to reserve a three-hour block in one of the lower-tier chambers. But that wasn't the goal. The goal was to prove to the upper disciples that he wasn't just a lucky genius , he was a resource worth investing in.

"The Crimson Hearth are watching now," Mu said one evening, glancing over at a pair of disciples wearing red armbands lingering near the supply counters. "Should we worry?"

Feiyin smirked. "We welcome the attention. Now we begin phase two."

"Which is?"

"We make it known that the pill is ours. Then we give them a small taste of its benefits. But only through the Runeweaver Circle."

Mu's eyes gleamed. "So if they want to access, they either ally with us..."

"Or crush us."

Feiyin's smile didn't waver. "Let's see which they choose."

-A few days prior-

Feiyin walked silently along the rugged mountain path, his thoughts deep in planning. The last few days had been a whirl of movement, scouting opportunities, probing networks, and seeking chances to gain access to the coveted Molten Cave. He had been planning to meet with different deacons, hoping to barter an arrangement where he would offer them a percentage of his product sales in exchange for the simple use of their name when needed. It was a dangerous play, but a necessary one.

The midday sun was high, casting golden slants over the stony path. As he rounded a curve leading to the upper section of the Saint Alchemy Branch, his eyes caught an eccentric figure making his way down. The man looked disheveled, purple-stained robes wrinkled and hanging loose, tufts of silver hair jutting out in every direction. He muttered to himself, hands hidden in his sleeves, until suddenly, he stopped.

Feiyin instinctively slowed his pace.

The old man snapped his head up, and in a single fluid motion, pulled out a strange vial filled with a bubbling liquid. His demeanor shifted like wind cutting through fog, and his eyes locked on Feiyin like a predator.

"Who are you?"

Feiyin straightened up, calm and respectful.

"Third-class outer disciple, Cai Feiyin, greets the senior."

The bubbling liquid in the vial started to still, its erratic movements calming in proximity to Feiyin. The man's sharp gaze grew wilder, madness tinged with revelation. Before Feiyin could react, the elder grabbed him by the shoulder and dragged him off the main path to a small, forgotten trail veiled in foliage.

The man's voice trembled with intensity. "How did you do it?!"

Feiyin, reading the storm of emotion, a tortured mixture of despair and desperate hope, knew that denial would not help.

"What do you mean?" he asked carefully.

The old man shook him violently, jabbing a finger toward Feiyin's chest. "How did you get rid of that parasite?!"

Coldness spread through Feiyin's veins. One of his deepest secrets, laid bare.

I've been careless.

But even now, he kept his composure, words measured and precise.

"If you're referring to the heart-eating worm, I was lucky. The world removed it for me."

The man stared at him, confusion flitting across his features before anger surged forth. The aura that burst out from him nearly crushed Feiyin under its weight.

"Do you think I'm joking?! Do you even know what it means to be in the sect's land without that parasite? You're either dead meat, a cauldron or Material!"

Feiyin remained steady.

"I don't lie. I was cultivating when a blessing from the world erased it. But senior, with all due respect, aren't you also trying to rid yourself of it?"

The old man blinked, the oppressive pressure relenting slightly. "Do you think anyone would choose to live like this? I've been the Alchemy Branch Head for three decades, you know. Took the place of my predecessor when he was deemed useless. I have been trying to find a way to free myself from this crap, and now, I took a simple break and found a random brat who managed to do what I couldn't my whole life?"

Feiyin's surprise showed for a brief moment, finding out that the eccentric man in front of him was the same as the elusive branch head from the rumor. At the same time, shock filled him, since even a man of such stature in the sect was forced to carry the parasite.

Sensing the man's turbulent emotions, Feiyin took a gamble.

"I can't take full credit," Feiyin said softly. "It was the moment I opened the final two meridians of the 108. I received a blessing then."

The old man reached forward, placing a hand on Feiyin's shoulder and sending in his spiritual sense. As he explored Feiyin's condition, his face twisted in disbelief.

"You opened the Governing and Conception Meridians?!"

Hope flared, then faded in the old man's eyes. "So that's it, huh? A fluke... a miracle. Something I'll never replicate."

Feiyin stepped in quickly.

"You're not alone in this pursuit. I've been working on an antidote with a friend for years. Now that I've experienced the cleansing first-hand, I think we're closer than ever."

The man scoffed.

"Unless you can refine runic pills, it's worthless. This parasite is the lifework of that old devil."

Despite his shock at the new information, Feiyin met his derision with calm confidence.

"Right now, I may be an apprentice. But I believe that amongst them, none match me. And with time, I will reach the level required."

The old man stared at him, emotions in flux.

"And so what? Right now, you are not only useless to me, but you also represent a danger. If that old devil stirs from his blood refinement earlier than expected and finds out that someone like you, someone without the parasite, slipped through under my watch, it won't just be my position at stake."

Feiyin nodded, his mind furiously running as he took his chance.

"Senior, excuse me for being blunt, but I'll ask you the same, and so what? If the one behind this parasite wakes up and finds me, he could snuff us both out like a candle in the wind. The difference is, right now, I am not just a risk. I'm a possibility. You said you've spent your whole life trying to replicate a runic pill that could cleanse this parasite, and what has that brought you? Thirty years as a prisoner with a fancier cage. Are you any closer now than you were a decade ago? You said it yourself, you're stuck. But I, I just walked into your path with proof that it can be done. So tell me, senior, what do you have to lose by betting on me?"

"You sure know how to talk, brat. Were you a merchant in another life?" The old man chuckled darkly, though his eyes gleamed with interest. "Your offer's not bad, but you know how trades work, words alone don't cut it. You'll come with me and show me exactly what you can do. If your skills don't live up to that mouth of yours, I'll be happy to use your corpse as fertilizer."

Feiyin smiled calmly, the weight of his gamble slowly settling on his shoulders , but this, at least, was a win.

"At the very least," he said, voice steady, "it means I've earned the chance to prove myself. And like you said , any real deal is built on trust. So I'll ask this plainly, Senior: would you be willing to swear an oath to uphold the terms of our agreement?"

The old man's laugh came louder this time, almost unhinged. "You've got guts, I'll give you that. Swearing an oath, huh?"

Oaths sworn by cultivators above the Yin Refinement Phase carried weight , invoked with heaven as witness, they weren't bound by paper or law, but by consequence. To break such a vow could invite death, madness, or the severing of one's cultivation path. Most took them seriously. Even if there were ways to bend the rules, no one did so lightly.

"Fine, boy," the old man said, fire lighting in his gaze. "You're crazy. But I like crazy. Let's gamble on your madness."