Bitterly, Liu Panlong obeyed, withdrawing every trace of soul defense and laying his mind bare.
The act alone was a wound to his dignity, but compared with death, humiliation was a small price.
Xiao Yan's fingers moved, weaving lines of condensed light.
Threads of pure soul energy gathered before him, forming a delicate sigil that pulsed faintly in the air.
The sigil shrank under his control until it became a single point of light.
With a flick of his finger, it shot forward, embedding itself between Liu Panlong's brows.
The old man instinctively tried to resist—but the soul body beside Xiao Yan released a soft, cold hum. The resistance shattered instantly.
Pain ripped through Liu Panlong's spirit. "A-ahhh!" His scream echoed through the chamber, then was abruptly cut short as the sigil fused into his soul, vanishing from sight.
Xiao Yan lowered his hand. His eyes were calm, almost indifferent. "The Soul Mark has taken root.
At my thought, I can make your soul writhe in agony—or shatter entirely. From this day forward, your life belongs to me."
This technique, once a forbidden art of the Soul Clan, had been one of countless secrets Xiao Yan destroyed in his previous life.
Then, he had dismissed it as cruel and dishonorable. Now, reborn into a weaker world, he understood its value all too well.
Liu Panlong knelt in silence, humiliation twisting his features.
Never had he imagined that a visit meant to recruit a disciple would end in his enslavement. His lips trembled, but he could only bow deeply.
"Master…" he whispered, voice hoarse.
Look at your miserable state."
Seeing Liu Panlong's hollow, spiritless expression, the Elder Yaolao let out a disdainful chuckle before Xiao Yan spoke.
Having fully trusted Xiao Yan's words, Yaolao knew just how terrifying a height Xiao Yan would reach in the future.
And so, he understood that for Liu Panlong to become Xiao Yan's medicine slave was no small matter ..... it was a fortune earned across eight lifetimes.
If Xiao Yan had already matured fully, Liu Panlong would at best have been a slave of a slave of a slave.
"You are only a modest third-grade alchemist now," Yaolao said with a strange smile, "You have no idea the fortune you've received. When you eventually become a sixth-grade alchemist, perhaps then you'll truly understand just how fortunate you were today."
At Xiao Yan's nod, Yaolao pressed his finger again to Liu Panlong's brow. Instantly, a stream of knowledgel... scraps of information worthless to Yaolao —l.... was poured directly into Liu Panlong's mind.
Though trivial to Yaolao, the volume was staggering for Liu Panlong.
For a time, he clutched his head in anguish, softly groaning under the burden.
Yet moments later, as he crudely absorbed the torrent of knowledge, his face lit up with uncontrollable excitement.
"This… this is…"
His body trembled as he realized what had been placed in his mind. These scraps of knowledge ..... insignificant to Yaolao — were priceless to any sixth-grade alchemist.
For Liu Panlong, a mere third-grade alchemist, this was akin to a beggar suddenly inheriting a treasure that could rival a nation.
Since you are now my Xiao clan's medicine slave," Xiao Yan said quietly, "I should improve your alchemy."
His own expression slightly pale, Xiao Yan exerted effort to perform the Soul Mark technique.
For his soul force .... barely comparable to a fourth-grade alchemist at this stage .... it required considerable exertion.
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