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THE PANCASONA ELIXIR
Once Ken’s entourage had put a considerable distance between themselves and the borders of the Sky Empire, Ken finally brought the procession to a halt. He took a moment to assess the condition of Patriarch Batara and the rescued faction members who had been brutalized in captivity.
”We will rest here for a moment,” Ken commanded, his voice cutting through the fatigue of the march.
”Understood, Lord,” Patriarch Darma replied, immediately signaling the group to stand down.
”Asikin, tend to the wounded,” Ken instructed his disciple.
”Yes, Master!” Asikin answered dutifully, immediately rushing off to circulate his healing arts among the battered survivors.
After resting for a short while and ensuring the injured were stabilized, the group prepared to resume their journey.
”Gather ’round, everyone! Form up!” Patriarch Darma called out, organizing the ranks. Once the formation was set, he turned back to Ken. “Lord, everyone is ready to move.”
”Good,” Ken replied serenely. “Since dusk is rapidly approaching, my Master shall lend us his strength so we can reach the village instantly.”
He gestured to the open ground. “Everyone, step into the array formation.”
”As you command, Lord!” the members roared in unison, swiftly moving into position.
This formation… it’s a spatial teleportation array! Patriarch Darma thought, his eyes widening in absolute awe as runic lines began to glow beneath their feet. With this, an entire battalion can cross the continent in a blink. But manipulating the void to this degree… not even every God King is capable of such a profound feat!
A blinding, ethereal light flared, enveloping the entire entourage. In the span of a single breath, the space around them warped, and the group vanished from the wilderness—reappearing instantaneously within the safety of the Siama village courtyard.
Before the group dispersed, Asikin, whose curiosity had been burning ever since they left the Sky Empire, mustered the courage to approach his master.
”Master, may I ask you a question?” Asikin asked carefully, bowing his head.
”You may,” Ken replied with a slight nod.
”Master, that pill you gave to the General earlier… was that a Pancasona Elixir?” Asikin asked, his eyes gleaming with a scholar’s thirst for knowledge. “From the compendiums I’ve read, its characteristics were identical, but the sheer restorative power I witnessed was completely different.”
”You have a good eye,” Ken commended. “It was indeed a Pancasona Elixir… however, its grade far surpasses a standard Tier 3 pill.”
”Surpasses Tier 3?” Asikin raised an eyebrow, utterly stunned.
”A Tier 1 pill can recover roughly twenty percent of a cultivator’s strength… Tier 2 recovers forty percent… and a Tier 3 maximizes at seventy,” Asikin recited his medicinal studies perfectly. “So the one you used… was it a Tier 4?”
A faint smile touched Ken’s lips at his disciple’s confusion. “You could call it a Star Pancasona Elixir. It transcends the standard grading system entirely. To the outside world, it is considered a mythical treasure. No matter how shattered someone’s meridians are, or how close they are to death’s door, that elixir will instantaneously heal their wounds and restore their cultivation base to an absolute one hundred percent.”
”H-hundred percent?!” Asikin gasped. “Heavens… that is unbelievable!” He hurriedly pulled out his journal and began frantically scribbling notes.
”It is,” Ken continued calmly. “But just like the lower-tier Pancasona Elixirs, a mortal body cannot withstand its medicinal efficacy. If an uncultivated person swallowed it, they would explode from the sheer density of life essence.”
”But, Master… if it is such a priceless, mythical treasure… why did you just give it away to an enemy so freely?” Asikin asked, genuinely baffled by the casual display of wealth.
”Haha… to me, it is nothing more than candy,” Ken chuckled nonchalantly. “Because I can refine them myself.”
”W-what?! Truly? You can forge a Star Pancasona Elixir yourself?!” Asikin nearly jumped out of his boots in pure shock.
”Naturally,” Ken met his gaze with absolute calm. “In fact, in this entire realm, I am likely the only one who possesses the formula.”
”Incredible… Master, could I ever learn to refine something like that?” Asikin asked, his eyes practically shining with stars.
”Of course… once you can successfully refine a standard Tier 3 Pancasona Elixir without failure, I will impart the Star formula to you,” Ken promised with a warm smile.
”Yes! Understood, Master! I will cultivate my alchemy day and night until I succeed!” Asikin declared, his resolve burning brighter than ever. “I shall take my leave now, Master,” he bowed respectfully and hurried off.
Yet, after taking a few steps, Asikin paused and glanced back at Ken’s retreating figure. Master’s silhouette… it reminds me of the cloaked senior I met in the grotto. But… this presence feels different, much larger. Could they be the same person? Or perhaps the cloaked man is Master’s own master? He shook his head. Never mind. Master told me to keep the grotto a secret…
The Next Day
Asikin was busy setting up a modest medical pavilion in the village square to diagnose and distribute herbal remedies to the locals. Following his master’s core philosophy, every single consultation and treatment was provided completely free of charge.
Word had spread like wildfire that the youth running the clinic was none other than the sole disciple of the Siama Alliance’s sovereign Lord.
”Young man, are you truly Lord Ken’s disciple?” an elderly woman asked, leaning heavily on her cane as she reached the front of the queue.
”I am, Grandmother,” Asikin smiled warmly, pulling out a wooden stool. “Please, take a seat. Let me check your pulse.”
For the entire day, Asikin worked tirelessly, treating the villagers one by one until the sun began to dip below the horizon and the long queue finally dwindled. From a distance, a quiet, aloof youth had been observing him since dawn. As the evening approached and the final patient departed, the youth finally stepped out of the shadows and approached the pavilion.
”Ah, are you here for a consultation as well?” Asikin asked cheerfully, wiping down his wooden table. “Just give me a second to tidy this up.”
Weird… why isn’t he answering? His aura is perfectly stable, and he doesn’t look sick at all… Asikin thought, glancing at the silent boy.
”Alright, all set. Sorry for the wait. It seems you’re my final patient for the day,” Asikin said lightly. “May I check your pulse?” He extended his hand, but the youth remained perfectly still, staring at him.
”I-is…” the youth finally spoke, his voice quiet and laced with nervous tension.
”Yes? Is something wrong?” Asikin tilted his head in confusion.
”I am not sick,” the youth stated bluntly.
”Huh?” Asikin blinked, even more confused.
”May I… ask you a question?” the youth asked hesitantly.
”Oh! So you just had a question!” Asikin let out a hearty laugh. “And here I thought you needed a doctor. Well, ask away. If I know the answer, I’ll tell you.”
”Is… is Lord Ken still accepting disciples?” the youth finally asked, his voice trembling ever so slightly.
”Oh,” Asikin was caught off guard. “Honestly… I have no idea. I’ve never actually asked Master about taking in anyone else.”
”I see…” The youth’s shoulders slumped in obvious disappointment.
”Yeah, sorry,” Asikin rubbed the back of his neck apologetically.
”Then… how did you manage to become Lord Ken’s disciple?” the youth pressed on, his dark eyes searching Asikin’s face.
”A while back, I crossed paths with Master when my mother was on the brink of death,” Asikin reminisced, a fond smile gracing his lips. “Master healed her, and I threw myself at his feet, begging him to teach me his healing arts so I could save her completely. I swore an oath, and I’ve been cultivating under his guidance ever since.”
”Hmm…” the youth hummed quietly, absorbing every word.
”Why do you ask? Are you hoping to study under Master as well?” Asikin asked.
”I am. But I heard whispers in the village that Lord Ken is an unfathomable existence. He doesn’t just accept anyone off the street,” the youth replied.
”That’s definitely true,” Asikin nodded in agreement. “That’s why, when I was given the chance, I poured my entire soul into proving my resolve. When he finally accepted me, I didn’t hesitate for a single second to swear the martial oath.”
”So… if I want to become his disciple, I just have to seek an audience and ask him directly?” the youth deduced.
”Exactly. Just go and ask him,” Asikin encouraged with a bright smile.
”Understood. Thank you. I will try,” the youth said, turning on his heel to leave.
”Good luck, friend!” Asikin called out.
The youth paused mid-step and glanced back over his shoulder. “What were the exact words of the oath you swore to Lord Ken?”
”Umm… do you really want to hear the whole thing?” Asikin asked, a bit surprised.
”Yes. Every word,” the youth answered instantly.
”Alright, listen closely…” Asikin straightened his posture and recited the solemn vow.
”Thank you. I will carve it into my memory,” the youth nodded before striding away toward the center of the village.
Heavens… what an icy kid. Doesn’t look like he knows how to crack a smile. If he actually becomes Master’s disciple, my peaceful days are definitely over… Asikin thought, shaking his head with a wry chuckle.
Armed with the knowledge he needed, the youth marched straight toward the Grand Hall. He stared up at the imposing, majestic pavilion, his heart hammering against his ribs. Swallowing his fear, he stepped forward.
Patriarch Batara, who was just exiting the grand doors, noticed the boy lingering nervously and approached him.
”What brings you here, young man?” Patriarch Batara asked kindly.
”Senior… may I seek an audience with Lord Ken?” the youth asked, bowing his head respectfully.
”You wish to meet with Lord Ken?” Batara repeated, raising an eyebrow.
”Yes, Senior. It is imperative,” the youth replied, keeping his head bowed.
”Very well. You may enter. The sovereign is inside,” Batara permitted, stepping aside and continuing on his way.
The youth stepped over the threshold, his eyes landing on the imposing figure seated at the far end of the hall. “L-Lord… may I seek an audience?” he greeted, performing a clumsy but deeply respectful martial salute.
”You may. Speak,” Ken replied, his expression as placid as a still lake.
”Thank you, Lord,” the youth exhaled, relief washing over him. “Lord… I have come because I wish to become your disciple.”
Ken stared at him with cold, calculating eyes. “Give me one reason why I should accept you.”
”I-I… I need to become strong, Lord,” the youth answered, his fists clenching so tightly his knuckles turned white. “So that I can save my mother and my little sister.”
”Save them?” Ken’s brow furrowed slightly. “What happened to them?”
”We are prisoners of the Fire Empire, Lord… I barely managed to escape with my life. That is why I must cultivate. I must gain enough power to break back into that hell and rescue them,” the youth explained, his voice vibrating with suppressed agony as tears threatened to spill from his eyes.
”Hmmm…” Ken studied the boy’s trembling, resolute frame for a long moment. “Very well. If that is the case, what is your name?”
”N-name…?” the youth blinked, suddenly looking lost.
”I cannot exactly accept a nameless disciple, can I?” Ken stated flatly. He waited for a response, but the youth remained stubbornly silent, his eyes cast down in shame. “If you will not offer one… then from this day forward, your name is Fubao.”
”F-Fubao?” the youth murmured, testing the weight of the name on his tongue.
”Well? Do you accept it?” Ken asked.
”Yes, Lord. I accept,” Fubao answered with fierce determination.
Ken slowly rose from his throne and descended the steps, walking toward the grand doors. “Then prepare yourself. We are leaving for the Fire Empire.”
”Wh-what?! What for, Lord?!” Fubao gasped, completely blindsided by the sudden command.
Ken paused, glancing over his shoulder with a faint, chilling smile. “To slaughter their guards, rescue your mother and sister, and bring them home. Naturally.”
”T-t-truly?!” Fubao’s eyes widened to the size of saucers, his jaw dropping in absolute disbelief.
”Since you are now my disciple, consider this your master’s welcoming gift,” Ken said serenely.
”But… but my cultivation is pathetic! My Star Seal hasn’t even condensed yet, Lord!” Fubao protested, his anxiety spiking. “I will only be a burden to you!”
”I am perfectly capable of protecting you,” Ken stated with unquestionable authority. “And I will ensure all of you return here safely. Besides, do you truly have the heart to make them wait years for you to grow strong?”
”Of course not, Lord. They’ve suffered far too much already,” Fubao choked out, tears of profound gratitude finally spilling over his cheeks.
”Thank you, Lord—ah, forgive me… Thank you, Master!” Fubao corrected himself, hastily wiping his eyes.
With newfound resolve, Fubao straightened his posture and took a deliberate step back. He raised his right hand parallel to his head, his palm facing outward in a crisp, solemn martial salute. “As your disciple, I swear to honor and obey you, to cultivate tirelessly, to forge my own strength, and to act as a guardian of humanity.”
”Hmmm…” Ken raised an eyebrow, a knowing glint in his eye. “I see you’ve already met your senior brother.”
”I have, Master,” Fubao replied, a tiny, rare smile breaking through his icy exterior.
”Good,” Ken said simply, stepping out into the sunlight. “Let us depart.”