Eternal Cultivation Of Alchemy

The old man continued training throughout the night, becoming better and better at making that one single pill.

Alex provided him with all the ingredients and let him train to his heart’s desire.

The old man improved at a steady pace, going from 14% to 18% to 25% to 36%.

In just 10 subsequent pills, he improved by a massive amount, now able to make pills over 50% in Harmony.

“That’s enough training for one session,” Alex said. “You won’t make any decent improvement anymore, and any improvement you do make will only be because you’re getting used to this one recipe.”

The old man nodded. “I have some fundamental failure. I’m not really that good at flame control. I always have been, sadly.”

Alex nodded. “May I ask if you have a Fire spiritual root?” he asked.

The old man shook his head. “Just Metal and Earth. Why, is it important?” he asked.

“It’s not necessarily important, but it is better to have,” Alex said. “To put it simply, you have a head start in Alchemy if you have a Fire spiritual root since it gives you much better fire control from the start. But of course, you can always train for it as well.”

The old man sighed. “Well, you can’t change what you’re born with. I can only blame my luck for not being born with it.”

“Well…” Alex thought for a bit. “There might be a way to get it.”

The old man turned toward Alex. “There’s a way?” he asked. “How?”

Alex took a moment to think whether or not he should say it. “There… there is a way to put someone else’s spiritual root into yours. So… you can technically get a Fire spiritual root if you really wanted it.”

The old man turned toward Alex. “That seems wrong,” he said. “If that were the case, everyone would do it.”

Alex sighed. “Yeah, that is one of the main issues with it,” he said. “It is very unethical because there is no other way to harvest a spiritual root other than to kill a person. If you don’t, the spiritual root remains connected to them, and if they ever eat a pill to heal, they end up growing their spiritual root back, and what you have ends up being useless.”

The old man nodded. He somewhat understood what Alex was talking about. No one really brought it up, but the concept of connection was something that was prevalent in every instance of a cultivator’s life.

“Do you have spiritual roots?” the old man asked with narrowed eyes.

“I do,” Alex said.

“So you killed people for it?” the old man asked. “Or did you get it from people you killed?”

“Neither,” Alex said. “I created a system where old people near death would give me their corpses for experiments, and I would give their families some things in return.”

“You killed old people?” the old man asked in surprise.

“Again, no. They died naturally. I only used their corpses. It was organ harvesting, but as ethical as I could make it happen.”

“And no one stopped you?” the old man asked, quite stunned by his words.

“They couldn’t really stop me,” Alex said with a small chuckle. “I was a king, so they didn’t really know what was happening.”

“A king? You?”

“Yes. Is that surprising?” Alex asked.

“A little. Kings are supposed to be great things for the outsiders, aren’t they?” the old man asked. “Little Dai told me something about your kings. Very few of the outer worlds have it, and those that do rule entire continents. He said most of them were Gods or their families. Are you one?”

“Oh! I see the misunderstanding. Do you know how many worlds there are outside?” Alex asked.

“Not an exact number, but I’ve heard it’s close to a hundred or so.”

“More,” Alex said. “But, most of the people you met likely only talked about 30 of them. We call them the Immortal Worlds because they are the only worlds where Immortals can live. Anywhere else, Immortals are forced to leave because they are too strong for that world.”

“I was the king of one of those small worlds. When I became an Immortal, I had to leave as well.”

“Ah!” the old man said. “How many years were you a king?”

Alex thought for a moment. “About 50 years or so.”

The old man clicked his tongue. “Mere 50 years. And here I thought you were king for a very long time.”

Alex stared at the old man, trying to hold in his laughter. “How old do you think I am?” he asked.

The old man’s face narrowed. “What do you mean?” he asked.

“My age. Can you guess it?” he asked.

“How would I be able to guess the age of an Immortal? Immortals can live forever and not change physically.”

“400 years,” Alex said.

“What?”

“I’m 400 years old. Actually, less than that. I’ve honestly lost count.”

“Huh…?”

Alex nodded.

“400? People can become an Immortal in 400 years?” the old man asked.

“People become Immortal way earlier than that,” Alex said. “It just depends on how abundant Qi is and how talented they are. I became an Immortal at 150 myself, and of those, I spent 50 years as a king. So, for me, it’s not that short a time. It’s one-eighth of my life, after all.”

The old man took a moment to think. “When you say it like that, it truly is quite a lot. Still, to think you’re so young.”

The old man was beginning to grow fascinated with the outside world again. The dream he had given up on was blossoming once again.

“Having said all that, you can either continue training and improve your flame control yourself. Or… I could provide you with a Fire spiritual root right now. What will you choose?”

The old man’s breath caught in his lungs. His eyes widened in curiosity.

“I want it,” he said. “I want the spiritual root.”

Alex smiled. “Alright, let me find one for you.”