A Song For The Ages

The old man led Feiyin through a series of winding, narrow paths cut directly into the jagged mountainside, the gravel crunching beneath their feet as silence stretched between them. Despite the casual posture the elder tried to maintain, Feiyin could feel it, his spiritual senses catching onto the tight coil of tension wrapped beneath the man's skin, like a beast caged too long.

Eventually, they reached a secluded structure buried into the mountainside. It had no ornate facade or markings, just a heavy iron door set into stone and masked by moss and age. The old man reached forward, his fingers brushing the locking mechanism with practiced ease. The door creaked open with a low groan, revealing a stone corridor that sloped downward, faintly illuminated by glowing crystals embedded in the walls.

Feiyin followed closely, suppressing the unease gnawing at his gut. As they descended, the air grew thicker, infused with the sharp scent of medicinal herbs and something metallic, almost like blood. When they reached the base, the corridor opened into a vast chamber filled with ancient alchemical equipment, cauldrons of varying size, shelves laden with jade slips and dried herbs, and furnaces lining one wall.

"Welcome to the Forgotten Flame," the elder muttered. "My own little corner of the branch, out of sight, out of reach."

Feiyin looked around, taking in every detail. The room pulsed with residual alchemical energy, and there were deep marks scorched into the stone floors, scars from hundreds of trials and failures. He turned back toward the elder, who had shed his disheveled demeanor like an old cloak.

"Since you claim to be so skilled, show me. Refine something difficult. Something worth keeping you alive for."

Feiyin's fingers tightened slightly before he stepped forward. "I'll refine Spirit Tempering Pills."

Among those who are stuck at the meridian opening realm, a good amount of them are lacking in spirit, which limit the opening of the mind's eye. One way to resolve this issue has been found in alchemy, thought it remain an expensive one.

The elder's eyebrows rose. "A peak tier 1 pill... complex extraction, delicate fusion, fragile balance. Bold choice."

Feiyin merely offered a calm smile. "I like a challenge."

He retrieved his cauldron from his spatial pouch and placed it on one of the sturdier platforms. With practiced ease, he selected the ingredients from nearby shelves, his spiritual sense sweeping through each one, probing their internal structures. With his oscillation sense guiding the internal rhythm, he began the process.

The fire roared to life beneath the cauldron, and Feiyin began the extraction step. His spiritual sense enveloped the herbs, drawing out their essential components with precision. Tiny threads of green and gold light streamed into the air, gently converging above the cauldron.

Next, purification. Feiyin slowed his breath, controlling the fire and his spiritual flow to remove impurities without destabilizing the extracts. Then came fusion, a delicate dance where he layered the purified essences into the cauldron in a rotating spiral, each one feeding into the next in a seamless sequence.

Sweat lined his brow, but his movements were smooth, confident. As the final stage approached, Feiyin compressed the materials together, refining and stabilizing them until a soft glow emerged from the depths of the cauldron.

With a final surge of spiritual will, he finished.

When he lifted the lid, six pills lay inside, perfectly spherical, silver-hued with a translucent sheen.

The old man stepped forward, inspecting them. "One hundred percent purity, and six pills to boot," he muttered, disbelief etched in every syllable. "And you used the improved spiral compression method without destabilization. Do you even know how many people fail that step alone?"

Feiyin remained silent, watching the emotions dance within the elder: surprise, frustration, longing... hope.

"What's your name again?" the man asked, his tone softer.

"Cai Feiyin."

Zhou's brows lifted at the name, but then his gaze narrowed slightly. "Cai Feiyin, huh? And how old are you exactly, boy?"

"Twelve," Feiyin replied without flinching.

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Zhou stared at him as if he'd been struck. "Twelve?! You're telling me a brat who hasn't even hit his first growth spurt refined six flawless Spirit Tempering Pills with spiral compression?" He leaned back, rubbing his temples. "Either I'm getting old, or the heavens have started playing favorites again. Damn..."

"Hmph. Mine's Zhou Rui. Head of this damn gilded cage."

Feiyin tilted his head slightly.

Zhou Rui walked to a nearby bench, sitting heavily. "This sect... this branch... they were never meant to elevate us. The Saint Alchemy Branch produces more than pills and weapons. It produces tribute. Tools for war. Bargaining chips. We are the flesh-and-bone machines that keep this beast fed."

Feiyin sat across from him, eyes narrowed. "And the parasite?"

Zhou's face twisted. "A leash. A guarantee. No matter how far one rises, no one forgets who truly holds the blade. Only the Sect Master is free of it. That old devil, he created them. With his own blood."

The words made Feiyin's stomach twist. The emotions radiating off Zhou confirmed it, raw hatred, tempered by resignation. Yet underneath it all, a fragile thread of hope glimmered.

Zhou leaned forward, voice low and bitter. "The truth is darker than most dare to imagine. That old devil... he cultivates a technique that requires the absorption and refinement of vast quantities of blood. I heard from the last branch head, the poor bastard before me, that the Sect Master was once part of a devilish sect, a fugitive who escaped with a trove of forbidden techniques. Injured and on the run, he founded this sect as a cover to recover."

He laughed, a dry, hollow sound. "But then he realized... why scavenge when you can raise your own herd? He built the branches as pens, each one cultivating fodder in different ways, preparing bodies, minds, and bloodlines to feed his cultivation. And while the branches harvest their talents, they also serve as tools to collect chaos, to spill blood in neighboring lands, to gather seeds for his ever-growing hunger."

Feiyin felt a shiver run down his spine. The vastness of the plan, the casual cruelty, made his skin crawl.

"He keeps us bound," Zhou continued. "By threat, by fear. We grow strong so we can die for him."

Feiyin leaned forward, voice firm. "Then let's change that."

Zhou stared at him, the firelight catching the crazed gleam in his eyes. Then, unexpectedly, he laughed.

"You're either a fool or the boldest bastard I've met. Maybe both. But maybe... just maybe... you're what this place needs."

Feiyin offered a faint smile, even as Hui's memory surfaced in his thoughts, her lifeless eyes staring into the void.

"I don't plan to die in this cage," he said. "And I won't let those I care about be bled for someone else's cause."

Zhou nodded, then raised his hand, only to lower it again with a grunt. "Before we dive into your research, brat, let me ask, why the hell were you heading up the mountain in the first place?"

Feiyin adjusted his posture, cautious but open. "I was heading to meet with a few deacons. I planned to offer them a cut of my surplus product in exchange for the use of their name and backing. It would've helped with protection and given me access to resources, particularly a spot in the Molten Cave. I figured I'd leverage the appearance of support to carve a place for myself."

Zhou raised an eyebrow. "Heh. Not bad for a kid. Clever. Dangerous too, but clever."

Feiyin tilted his head. "Now that we're on the same boat, I wonder if I can ask for your help instead. It'd be less risky, and far more effective."

Zhou laughed dryly. "Help, huh? You do realize I've never taken on a disciple? Hell, most people barely know what I look like. But... you might be the only real chance I've got. Still, we need to play it smart. I've got a good relationship with one of the deacons, Deacon Yun. She owes me a few favors. I'll lend you her token. It'll act as your umbrella. I would love to give you mine, but we can't be too obvious. Other branches keep tabs, and if someone connects too many dots..."

Feiyin nodded slowly. "Understood. Subtlety is key."

Zhou took something from his robe and tossed it to Feiyin, a jade token with silver script etched into its side. "This will get you in the door. Just make sure your results speak louder than your name."

Feiyin caught the token, studying it. A quiet pulse of alchemical energy still lingered on its surface.

He looked up. "Senior Zhou, earlier... the vial you used, what was that liquid?"

Zhou's expression dimmed. He pulled the small vial from his sleeve and stared at the bubbling solution inside. "A little concoction of my own design. Years of experimentation. It detects the presence of the heart-eating parasite, changes behavior when it's nearby. I keep it with me... as a reminder."

Feiyin's voice dropped. "Are there others in the sect with similar detection methods?"

"No," Zhou said, shaking his head. "That was my private work. Others don't have the means, nor the inclination. The only real threat would be the mother worm, but that's always kept close by the Sect Master. Unless you wander into his shadow, you're safe."

Feiyin let out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding.

Zhou leaned back, his gaze lingering on the flame-lit chamber before settling once more on the boy. "You know, I would've liked to take you in as a disciple. You've got the guts, the eyes... and now I see, the hands. But I can't. Not now, not in this place. Too many eyes. Too many old debts."

Feiyin's expression remained composed, but inside, his heart stirred with curiosity and ambition.

Zhou nodded to himself, then stood. "For now, let me take a look at what you've researched. Show me what road you've paved so far, and I'll bring you up to base with what I have on my side. We'll see if our paths lead to freedom, or something far worse."

Feiyin stepped forward without hesitation, the first real step toward his goals taking shape in the flickering shadows of the Forgotten Flame.