The frigid winds howled around the cave, muffling all sound as Bhoumik, Indrali, and Maya sat quietly, lost in their thoughts. However, they were not alone. Far above, cloaked figures floated in the air, hidden from sight by the snowstorm that engulfed the mountain peaks. Their hoods obscured their faces, but their presence was unnerving—powerful, silent, and vigilant.
One of the figures spoke, his voice low and filled with a chilling edge. "Is this the boy? The one who has awakened the Cursed Body of Lotus Devouring of Infernal Void?"
"Yes," the second figure replied, his tone equally cold. "That's him."
The first figure nodded, his gaze fixed on the cave far below. "So… should we take him now?"
The second figure shook his head slowly. "No. Let the Chief decide. Whether we should recruit him or not is her decision, not ours."
There was a moment of silence, and then the first figure gave a slight nod of agreement. "Very well. I will inform the Chief. Let her make the call."
With a wave of his hand, a swirling dark portal tore open the air beside him. The shadows around the portal flickered ominously, and without a word, the figure stepped inside, disappearing into the void. The second figure remained behind, his form barely visible against the snow as he continued to watch the cave from a distance, his eyes locked on Bhoumik. He would wait. He would watch. The boy's fate had yet to be decided.
The next day, as the sun rose faintly behind thick clouds, Bhoumik found himself sitting by the campfire once again, this time with an old, leather-bound book in his hands. The cover was worn, the pages yellowed with age, but the contents were filled with knowledge that could shape his future. The title, written in elegant script, read: The Foundation of Pill Refinement—A Beginner's Guide to Alchemy.
Indrali had kept her word, providing him with the text after they had woken. She had mentioned that it was one of the few remaining relics from the Frozen Sun Sect's ancient library—a treasure that had survived the sect's downfall. Bhoumik felt a strange sense of responsibility as he held the book. It wasn't just a guide for him—it was a piece of history, a remnant of the sect's legacy.
As he opened the first page and began to read, Bhoumik felt his curiosity grow. The book detailed the basics of alchemy: the importance of balancing spiritual energy, the properties of different herbs and minerals, and the dangers of losing focus during the refinement process. It was a lot to take in, but Bhoumik was determined. He had made a promise to himself to get stronger, not just in combat but in every aspect of his life.
Indrali sat nearby, watching him as he absorbed the information. She had always been a guide, both in battle and now in knowledge. But she knew that Bhoumik had to walk this path on his own. Alchemy was not something that could be taught through combat training—it was a personal journey of discovery and failure.
"Take your time with it," Indrali advised, her voice gentle. "Alchemy requires patience, and mastering even the simplest pill can take weeks of practice. But if you can learn to harness its power, it will be a valuable tool in your future battles."
Bhoumik nodded, not taking his eyes off the book. "I understand. This is just another step on the road to getting stronger."
Maya, who had coiled up near the fire, lifted her head, her eyes gleaming with approval. "Good. But remember, strength is more than just knowledge and power. It's control. Without control, even the greatest power can destroy you."
Bhoumik smiled at that, flipping through the pages with renewed focus. He had faced his first true battle against the Snow Bear and come out victorious. But the road ahead was long and dangerous, filled with even greater challenges. He had learned an important lesson in the cold, harsh wilderness—he wasn't just fighting the enemies outside.
Far away from the frozen peaks where Bhoumik trained, a grand hall stood in the heart of an unknown region. It was a massive structure, carved from black stone, and its ceiling reached high into the sky, disappearing into the shadows above. In the center of the hall stood a luxurious throne, made of obsidian and adorned with intricate carvings of serpents and flames. To either side of the throne were ten smaller seats, each occupied by powerful figures draped in dark robes, their faces hidden in shadow.
At this moment, seven of the seats were filled, and the atmosphere in the hall was tense. The air was thick with anticipation, the quiet murmur of voices barely audible over the oppressive silence.
The entrance to the hall creaked open, and a lone figure walked in, his face obscured by the hood of his robe. He moved with a deliberate grace, his every step measured, as he made his way to the center of the hall. The figures on the smaller thrones watched him intently, their gazes piercing even from beneath their hoods.
As the man reached the center of the hall, he stopped and bowed deeply, his voice echoing through the dark space. "Chief," he began, his tone respectful but firm. "I have news."
The air in the hall grew colder, and then, with a sudden crack, the space around the grand throne warped and twisted. A rift appeared in the air, and from the void stepped a figure—tall, elegant, and exuding an aura of power so intense it seemed to suffocate the room.
She was the Chief.
Her figure was veiled in shadows, though her beauty was undeniable, even from behind the intricate veil that covered her face. Her crimson eyes glowed with an otherworldly light, and her long black hair cascaded down her back like a river of midnight. The red robe she wore clung to her perfectly curved figure, adding to the sense of command she projected. As she stepped forward, the seven figures on the side seats rose to their feet and bowed deeply.
"Welcome, Chief," they intoned in unison, their voices filled with reverence.
The Chief waved a slender hand dismissively, her gaze fixed on the man who had come to deliver the message. "Speak," she commanded, her voice smooth but filled with an underlying dominance that could not be ignored.
The man in the center of the hall straightened, keeping his head bowed. "Chief, we have located a boy who has awakened the Cursed Body of Lotus Devouring of Infernal Void."
The Chief's eyes narrowed, her interest clearly piqued. "The boy, you say?"
"Yes, Chief," the man continued. "We have confirmed it. He possesses the cursed constitution. I came to ask if we should proceed to recruit him. His power could be of great use to us."
For a moment, the Chief said nothing, her crimson eyes gleaming with dark intent. She considered the implications carefully. The Cursed Body was a dangerous gift, capable of incredible destruction if wielded properly. If they could harness such power…
"Where is he now?" the Chief finally asked, her voice as cold as ice.
"He is being monitored by one of our Shadow Brothers. They are currently residing in a frozen region to the north, near the mountains."
The Chief's lips curled into a faint smile, though it was impossible to tell whether it was one of amusement or something more sinister. "Very well," she said, her voice a deadly whisper. "I will handle this personally."
Without another word, the Chief's form began to blur, and with a sharp crack, the air around her distorted once more. In the blink of an eye, she vanished, leaving the hall in a chilling silence.
The man who had delivered the message straightened, looking around only to find that their Chief was gone. He let out a slow breath and turned to the others. "It has begun," he murmured under his breath. "The Chief will see this boy for herself."