The cloying sweetness of the ruby-red pill hung in the air: a scent so thick it felt like velvet on the tongue. Han Sen stood amidst the silence, his hand steady even as his internal organs pulsed with a dull ache.
[HP: 7/10]
[Warning: High-tier transmutation has strained the Host's Level 1 meridians.]
Even with infinite skill points, his body was still a fragile vessel. Moving that much energy through a Level 1 frame was like forcing a river through a straw. He felt a bead of cold sweat slide down his spine, but his face remained a mask of stone.
Alchemist Zhou took a stumbling step forward, his eyes bulging. "A trick. It must be a trick! You had that pill hidden in your sleeve!"
He reached out, his fingers trembling with a mix of greed and desperation. If a Level 1 beggar could truly refine a King-Grade pill, Zhou's entire life's work was a joke.
"Don't touch it," a voice boomed from the depths of the Guild.
The heavy oak doors creaked open. An old man with a long, silver beard and robes of deep violet walked out. On his chest sat a gold badge with five stars.
[Detected: Grandmaster Mo (Level 62)]
The crowd gasped, the sound like a collective intake of air. A 5-star alchemist was a figure of legend in Willow Creek. The guards immediately dropped to their knees, their foreheads touching the cold marble.
Grandmaster Mo didn't look at the guards. He didn't look at Zhou. He walked straight to Han Sen, his gaze heavy and piercing: a predatory focus that seemed to strip away Han Sen's very soul.
"Boy," the Grandmaster said, his voice low and vibrating. "Where is your furnace?"
"I don't use one," Han Sen replied.
The Grandmaster looked at the pill in Han Sen's palm. He didn't take it. He simply leaned in and inhaled the scent. His eyes widened, a flicker of genuine shock crossing his weathered face.
"Perfect purity," the old man whispered. "No charcoal residue. No fire-toxin. This wasn't burned into existence: it was birthed."
He finally looked at Han Sen's "Level 1" status. He frowned, his brow furrowing in deep confusion. To a man of his level, Han Sen should have looked like an ant. Instead, he saw a void: a black hole where a mana pool should be.
"Who is your master?" Mo asked.
"I have no master," Han Sen said. "I only have the law. Does this pill qualify me for registration, or does the Guild only accept those with high levels?"
The question was a slap to the face of every noble watching. Zhou looked like he wanted to vomit from shame.
Grandmaster Mo let out a short, sharp bark of laughter. "The Guild accepts talent, not levels. If you can do this, you aren't just an alchemist. You are a monster."
The Grandmaster turned to the guards, his eyes flashing with a sudden, violent light. "Scram. If I see either of you blocking this entrance again, I will turn your bones into potion ingredients."
The guards didn't wait. They scrambled away, their heavy boots clattering against the stone in their haste.
"Come," Mo said, gesturing toward the dark, cool interior of the Guild. "We will process your badge. And then, you and I are going to have a very long talk."
Han Sen walked past the frozen Alchemist Zhou. He didn't spare the man a single glance. As he stepped over the threshold, the golden light of the street faded, replaced by the scent of ancient herbs and the hum of hidden power.
He was inside. He had the protection of the Guild. But as he looked at the Grandmaster's back, Han Sen knew the real game was just beginning. He was a Level 1 human in a room full of lions. He had to be smarter than all of them.