Strongest Family System

The system's list of names appeared clearly before Robert's eyes, each accompanied by their refining capabilities and familiarity with medicinal herbs.

Robert scanned the list, spotting a few familiar names—Luke and Jay Osborn, brothers who always argued over flame techniques. A couple of new faces caught his eye too, like Roy, whose steady hands had impressed him before.

Most of them were decent with flame control and knew their herbs well enough, but Robert was not fooled. Talent alone would not cut it here; it was about how much they were willing to push themselves.

He understood now that these ten would be instrumental in boosting the clan's pill production to new heights.

With some careful guidance and the right tools, they could refine their talents to create two- or three-line pills with precision—and perhaps even embark on a journey toward mastering even more advanced skills.

Robert inhaled deeply, bracing himself for the meeting ahead. It was no longer just about his personal development; it was about creating a strong base that would secure the future of the whole Osborn clan.

The work would be demanding, but the possibilities were endless.

After stepping into the alchemy hall, Robert approached the attendant and said clearly, "Could you let Luke, Jay, Lucas, Jacobs, Aryan, Roy, Ben, Blake, and Zak know? Have them come to the alchemy room."

"The attendant nodded respectfully and hurried off to deliver the message."

About half an hour later, all ten cultivators arrived at Robert's room. One by one, they bowed deeply in respect.

Luke was the first to speak. "What is the matter, Young Master Robert?"

Robert acknowledged their bows with a nod before addressing them. "I brought you all here because each of you holds the title of Apprentice Alchemist."

Robert rubbed the back of his neck. "Look... none of this works without you. I mean that. We know what needs to be done—we just have to push a little harder."

Make better pills. Make more. That is how we move forward."

"The group fell silent, their eyes fixed on Robert, determination settling into their expressions."

He turned toward the gathered cultivators and announced, 'It's time to begin the body tempering pill refinement.'"

They nodded as one, understanding just how vital and urgent the task really was.

Heat rolled through the alchemy room, where more than twenty furnaces glowed faintly. Without a word, the cultivators split off, each finding their usual spot and setting to work like they had done it a hundred times before.

Robert did not blink. He just stared at their hands, trying to catch every little move. "Their movements were smooth—like second nature. Damn, it was going to take time to make them good."

After twenty minutes, the team completed the batch, laying out the freshly refined pills on the worktables. Robert moved closer, eyes narrowing as he inspected each pill.

He gave a slow nod. "These are solid—smooth texture, clear aroma." But as his eyes flicked over the batch, his smile tightened just a bit. "Still... they lack something. No defining lines."

Without the signature lines, it was clear that these pills were missing the essential spirit refinement to be classified as authentic body tempering pills. They were simply herbal blends with minimal strength. This flaw was crucial, as it could weaken the clan's medicinal stock and stifle the development of their cultivators.

Robert's gaze then turned to the assembled cultivators. "This is the issue many of you are facing: the spirit must be carefully fused into each pill, marking them with their spiritual lines. They indicate the pill's level and efficacy.

Without them, the pills lose much of their effectiveness."

One by one, Robert called each cultivator forward. "He moved through the room, watching how they handled the herbs and controlled the flames."

When something was off, Robert pointed it out, steady but direct.

"To infuse the spirit correctly," Robert explained, "your qi must be focused precisely during the tempering phase. "Flame control is not just about turning up the heat," Robert said, eyes sharp. "You have got to catch those little shifts—too hot, and you burn the essence; too cool, and it never blends right."

He demonstrated the delicate wrist motions required to adjust the flame, then showed them how to channel their mana into the pill matrix during the cooling stage. "The pill's surface must shimmer faintly before it solidifies"—a sign the spirit threads have woven through the herb's essence.

Gradually, Robert detailed the entire process: the correct processing times for herbs to maximize power, the importance of balance between ingredients, and the timing needed for each phase of refining.

This hands-on guidance stretched on for an hour.

They soaked in what Robert said, the nervousness they had had earlier melting away bit by bit. When he finished, a few exchanged looks—the kind that said, Yeah, maybe we have got this after all.

Aryan moved a little closer, the firelight flickering across his features. "Huh... I always thought it was just about maintaining a steady heat. I did not know the colors shifted like that before it really peaked."

Roy scratched his head, then smirked. "Yeah—and that part about channeling mana after the flame's gone? I used to just let it die out. No wonder my casts kept warping."

"A small smile tugged at Robert's lips. 'Pill refining is not just about tossing herbs into the fire.'"

It takes precision—and a bit of instinct. If you get it right, you will not just make medicine... you will give our clan an edge."

Robert glanced at the ten before him, their eyes steady and focused. "Alright," he said, "let us switch things up. Stop overthinking and just put what you have learned into practice."

They exchanged nods—less about agreement, more about readiness. They were not just holding onto theory now. With Robert leading, it was time to put it into practice.

Robert watched them for a moment. It hit him—the Osborn clan's strength was not just about him getting better. It was how they pushed each other forward. Everyone mattered. Together, they were turning into something bigger than just a group of people.

There was still a long way to go, but this—this was a real start.

As Robert gave his next set of instructions, the alchemist moved without hesitation, diving back into the process of refining the body-tempering pills.

The alchemy hall buzzed with life—flames flickered under the furnaces, and the heavy scent of herbs hung in the air. Everyone worked with steady hands and focused minds, carefully managing the heat and weaving their mana into the mixture.

Roughly twenty minutes later, the batch was done.

Robert stepped forward, carefully examining their work.

He squinted, looking closely for even the tiniest details.

This time, he noticed faint traces of mana woven through each pill—a definite step up from before.

However, despite the infusion of spiritual energy, the hallmark lines that would mark the pill's potency were still absent.

He got their attention again with a short wave. "Alright. You are getting somewhere. I can see traces of mana in the pills now, so your focus is improving."

He paused, scanning a few of the results.

"But you are still missing the spiritual lines. That is what brings the pill to life. Without them, it is just a lump of herbs with some energy in it. With them, the pill actually means something. That is what people notice. That is what matters."

Robert's voice was steady but firm. "Practice is the only way forward. To sharpen your skill and deepen your understanding, I am giving you two hundred sets of body tempering herbs. Each of you will refine twenty pills from these herbs."

He placed the heavy bundles carefully across the bench, emphasizing the importance of this next step. "I expect that out of your twenty pills, at least five to ten should bear one or more spiritual lines.

"Use what you have learned," Robert said. "Keep your fire steady. Let the mana flow right. Don't overthink it—just do it clean."

He turned to leave, then added over his shoulder, "I will be back tomorrow to see how it is going."

No one said anything, but their nods spoke loud enough. Determined. Focused. A little tense, maybe—but that was normal.

The responsibility was real—but none of them shied away from it. They were ready to rise to the challenge.

Robert glanced at them one more time. Their eyes held that same spark—focused, steady. "Don't rush it," he said. "Real skill comes from patience, from doing it right every time. Each pill you make? Let it show what you are made of. Let it speak for your loyalty to this clan."

He did not say anything else. Just took a step back and let them get on with it. They did not need more words—just space to work and a reason to keep going.

By the time the sun started to set, spilling orange and gold across the sky, Robert slipped out of the alchemy hall. The day had tired him out more than he knew.

His shoulders ached. His mind was tired. He walked the quiet path back to his room, eager for a moment of peace.

Later, sitting by the window, he watched the lanterns come alive across the compound. One by one. Soft glows chase away the dark. Above them, the stars began to show—faint at first, then steady.