The alchemy work given by the punishment department was tedious, physically difficult, and there was nothing to learn from it. Crushing magic stones, carrying ingredients, fetching fuel—no job given would make a disciple more qualified to become an alchemist.
Maryam had been given the task of grinding kinesroot. Kinesroot was a sort of spirit plant that was full of very intense energy but was quite toxic in its unrefined form. When ground, it would release a foul-smelling gas that irritated the eyes and any open wounds. Prolonged exposure could lead to severe poisoning.
Normally, disciples being punished would do this task in weekly rotations. But Maryam was assigned to do it alone for the rest of her stay in the alchemy department. From this, it could be seen that angering an elder from the punishment department carried a much harsher sentence than most actual crimes.
To add to the pain of the task, Maryam's back was covered in lacerations from the hundred lashes of her sentence. Before sending her to the alchemy department, Zaionz had taken her to a back room and whipped her with great zeal. The sight of Maryam's blood seemed to please her greatly, and she whipped her like she wanted the cuts to be deep enough for her to see Maryam's innards.
When she was finished, she didn't seem disappointed to have lost her source of pleasure. Instead, she immediately gave Maryam her task and even followed to watch.
It could be said that forcing someone with as many open wounds as Maryam to work with kinseroot was attempted murder. Certainly, it was torture. If not for the strength of her body and her talent in controlling energy, she might have died a slow and miserable death.
Fortunately, the saturation of energy in Maryam's blood and flesh was more than thick enough to stop the poison. In fact, she could even eat the kinesroot directly.
Now, there is something that should be explained about the nature of the energy of blood and flesh. Unlike the energy of the soul, a cultivator cannot manipulate it at will. Their body circulates it and absorbs it automatically, just as their heart pumps blood through their veins.
This changes at the realm of Bodily Rebirth—when the cultivator gains absolute control of their mortal body and is able to impose their will on their flesh—but not before.
It is, however, possible for a lower-leveled cultivator to use their soul energy to channel, block, or otherwise direct the flow of their blood energy. It should also be mentioned that this automatic circulation of life energy is what draws and absorbs power from elixirs and the like.
There are many benefits to refining spirit ingredients. It is possible to remove harmful energies, (such as the ones that give kinesroot its poisonous nature), cause aggressive energies to be released slowly and steadily, and convert already-present energy into a form more easily absorbed by cultivators. Essentially, the purpose of alchemy is control.
But Maryam's skill at using her soul energy to control her blood energy was so great that she might as well have been controlling her blood energy directly. This was why she could efficiently absorb energy through ingesting such a potent ingredient.
Nobody imagined that a low-level, untalented disciple would eat kinesroot directly. Certainly, there were some cultivators capable of it, but anyone that talented would not be punished in this manner. There were unspoken rules.
Technicalities aside, all this meant that Maryam could directly use the energy from kinesroot to reinforce her body. It would probably be at least a week before her theft was noticed, and she doubted they'd be able to pin it on her. After all, there were several disciples working on the kinesroot and she had left no evidence.
All the disciples who had been given heavy punishment stayed in the same dormitory in the alchemy department basement. They were not allowed to leave the building without permission.
It was night, and Maryam was sitting on her dorm bed, talking to a clean-faced young man sitting on the bed beside hers. His name was Menohar. She had told him her story of what happened with her and Zaionz and he was quick to add his own commentary.
She found out that Zaionz's first name was EnHell—the 'En' prefix traditional in certain clans for the one who would be the next clan leader. It couldn't have been easy for Zaionz to win out over the other potential heirs, but any respect Maryam had for her was utterly dwarfed by her horror at his stories of Zaionz's alleged perverse hobbies.
Menohar was finishing telling Maryam one of these stories.
"Unfortunately, that cultivator had extremely beautiful eyes," he said, "so Zaionz had his irises cut out and preserved, then used them as insets for a pair of cufflinks."
The door to the dorm slammed open. EnHell Zaionz strode into the room.
"I've been listening to you for quite a while," she said, sneering, "What you've been saying was quite interesting. Talking so much should mean you have good lungs. Don't tempt me to make pillows out of them."
"H-how is that legal?" Menohar stammered.
Zaionz hit him in the chest. He flew across the room and crashed into the wall with the sound of cracking ribs. Maryam's hands tightened into fists.
"Oh, well," said Zaionz, "I guess we'll have to get them reinflated, then."
"Legal? What a stupid question," said a curvaceous girl—also their dormmate—named Susan, "Of course Mother Zaionz won't be in trouble for disciplining lowly disciples like us! Mother Zaionz is the best!"
Several other disciples joined her, praising "Mother Zaionz." The rest looked at her with a mixture of resentment, fear, and unwillingness.
"Oh, you guys are so sweet," said Zaionz, turning to the ones who praised her, "I'm sure you'll be done your sentence in no time!"
Then she turned back to Menohar.
"Looks like he's still alive. It'll be annoying to remove his lungs like this," she paused, contemplative.
"Okay, how about this? I'm not a tyrant, so if everyone wants it, I'll let him go."
Hope appeared in Menohar's eyes, and Zaionz watched them as if she were savoring something.
"But since I also care about the rest of you, I'll quarter the sentence of anyone who helps bring the lungs of this worthless loudmouth to my office by tomorrow morning. I'll also cancel their kinesroot rotations. I'll consider it as them having demonstrated that they understand what's important," Zaionz's eyes flickered to Maryam's clenched fists, and her sneer intensified, "Oh, except Maryam. If Maryam doesn't help, her sentence gets doubled."
Zaionz smiled nastily and then left.
From the reactions of the disciples who had been in the alchemy department for longer, Zaionz's visit was not an unusual occurrence.
Maryam knelt in front of Menohar's body and began to use her energy to help stabilize his injuries. He was a cultivator, so he was capable of surviving a lot. Even without her help, he'd probably be able to pull through.
"Is there something I can help you with?" Maryam asked. In front of her stood Susan with five other disciples behind her, all looking confidently down on Maryam. There were three more disciples standing with Susan that refused to meet Maryam's gaze, and a couple who were sitting determinedly on their beds.
"You heard what Elder Zaionz said. I have no intention of wasting my life in here for the sake of some stupid loudmouth," Susan said, "So step away from him. Don't worry, I'll do all the dirty work. I'll even let you take credit for helping. There's no reason for you to refuse. Unless you want to have your sentence doubled?"
"Is there anyone who objects to this?" Maryam asked the room.
Some disciples looked uncomfortable, but the silence was indisputable.
Maryam stood up. She was tall, and her entire being seemed to radiate power.
Susan unconsciously took a step back.
"I'm not moving," said Maryam, "and if you want to take him, well," —she smiled, and beckoned them with two fingers— "Come and get it."
Susan was more than ready to take her up on that offer.
Unlike the peak Channel Creation disciples behind her, Susan was at the early Core Creation stage. Not that it mattered. She was not particularly talented. A strike of Maryam's fist sent her crashing to the floor.
Maryam followed her to the ground and put her in an armlock.
"Don't think I'll let you off because you have a pretty face. What gives you the right to kill someone for your own convenience?"
"In this world, the strong survive and the weak become their prey," said Susan.
"So you think that anything you are capable of doing is justified? What bullsh*t!"
Maryam broke her arm.
"I guess by your philosophy, it's fine for me to do this, right? That's quite fortunate. I've been wanting to."
Maryam broke her other arm.
The other disciples with Susan attempted to join in to help her, but it was futile. Their blows did as much damage to Maryam as the buzzing of flies.
"E-elder Zaionz will get you for this," Susan stammered.
Maryam smiled.
"Oh. I'd quite welcome that."
Soon, all the disciples who had attacked Maryam were lying on the ground in a pile of mangled limbs and broken bodies. They would survive, but the next few weeks of their sentence would be extremely difficult.
"Don't worry," said Maryam, turning to Menohar, "Zaionz will probably forget all about you after this incident. She'll probably be too busy dreaming up awful things to do to me."
She laughed, and the sound was coloured with faint traces of contempt.
"Thanks," said Menohar, "But will you be okay? I don't think Elder Zaionz will be easy to deal with."
Indeed, as a mid-level Bodily Rebirth expert who held considerable authority, Zaionz would not be easy to deal with.
But Maryam was only a hair's breadth away from breaking into the Core Creation stage with her dual blood and soul energy. It would be a start.
The first thing to do was to get out of the alchemy department.