This… this is a soul body!"
Liu Panlong's face contorted in disbelief as he stared at the old man floating beside Xiao Yan.
As an alchemist, he had heard of such a thing—when one's soul force reached a realm so profound that even death could not erase it.
But to maintain a conscious soul after the body's demise required at least the power of a fifth-grade alchemist.
Yet the aura emanating from this translucent figure was far beyond that.
It wasn't merely vast—it was endless, like the deep sea itself.
Liu Panlong had met fifth-grade alchemists before, but compared with this elder, they were fireflies before the full moon.
Just this single wisp of soul energy could crush him utterly. What kind of strength had this man possessed in life?
"Xiao Yan… what is the meaning of this?" he rasped, throat dry, eyes flicking between the youth and the serene phantom that hovered nearby.
He knew full well—if this elder wished him dead, he would vanish before he could even scream.
Xiao Yan's smile was faint, his tone mild. "Master Liu, you came all this way to avenge that useless disciple of yours, didn't you?"
The color drained from Liu Panlong's face.
"Then let me make things simple," Xiao Yan continued. "Yes....Liu Xi died by my hand."
The words struck like thunder.
"Now," Xiao Yan said quietly, "you have two choices.
Be reduced to ashes by the Bone Spirit Cold Flame… or accept a soul mark and become a medicine slave of the Xiao clan.
From that moment on, your life and death will rest in my hands."
His voice carried no anger, no cruelty—only absolute certainty.
Liu Panlong's knees trembled. "Xiao Yan—Master Xiao—I meant no harm! I only wished to meet you, nothing more! Please, spare me!"
He had come to recruit a prodigy, not to face execution. Yet now, under the youth's calm, overwhelming dominance, even words of defense felt useless.
To become a medicine slave was the deepest humiliation for any alchemist—worse than death itself.
"Heh." Xiao Yan's chuckle was low and cold. "You know too much.
Unless you offer me your life-and-death token, I can't allow you to leave."
He raised his hand slightly. A pale, spectral flame ignited in his palm....the legendary Bone Spirit Cold Flame. Its cold light illuminated the room in ghostly hues.
"As an alchemist, you should recognize it," Xiao Yan said softly. "I'll give you ten seconds."
His voice fell like the tolling of a bell.
"Ten… nine… eight…"
The cold flame drifted closer. Its chill devoured the air, and sweat poured down Liu Panlong's back.
"B-Bone Spirit Cold Flame…" His pupils constricted in terror. He had heard legends of its merciless power....how it burned the soul itself. Normally he would have fled at once, but the elder's vast soul pressure caged him like iron chains.
"Three… two…"
The flame's reflection danced in Liu Panlong's eyes. Despair swallowed his heart.
"I surrender!" he cried, collapsing to his knees. "I'll submit! I'll serve the Xiao clan as a medicine slave!"
Xiao Yan's expression eased slightly. "A wise man knows when to bend."
He gestured lightly to the hovering elder. "Old man, you'll thank yourself for this someday."
For an alchemist of Liu Panlong's level, to become Xiao Yan's servant was both disgrace and fortune.
In Xiao Yan's past life, countless high-rank alchemists had begged for such a position under supreme masters.
Yet here, a third-grade alchemist obtained that fate by sheer accident.
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