Emma Dawson’s emotions twisted like the restless currents of the Driftdream Loch—dark, unpredictable, and impossible to ignore. The flickering glow of Lordi’s Dao Furnace painted eerie patterns across the ancient trees, casting shifting shadows that mirrored the turmoil in her mind.
She couldn’t tear her eyes away.
Every precise control of the young man’s material processing, every effortless adjustment of the flame, every calculated infusion of raw ingredients—it was all executed with a grace that bordered on arrogance. And it infuriated her.
"Ugh! This disgusting, handsy little fucking pervert... How dare he be this good at something?"
Her nails bit into her palms as she watched him work. The memory of his groping—narrated by her squad companion—flared in her mind like a brand. The audacity of it! The sheer disrespect! She, Emma Dawson, an adoring Outer Sect star in her own right, got groped like some common brothel wench!
Her lips curled into a smirk, sharp and unkind.
"Oh, but look at you, Kim Simona."
The famed "Eastern Jewel," the alchemy prodigy who had the entire Outer Sect fawning at her feet—reduced to nothing more than a stepping stone in Lordi’s eyes. After all, if a man tied so closely to Kim Simona couldn’t resist Emma’s allure, what did that say about the so-called genius?
"All those simpering idiots praising her beauty, her talent, calling her untouchable... And yet her own man would rather grope me in broad daylight."
The thought sent a rush of vicious satisfaction through her. It was petty. It was beneath her. But by the abyss, it felt good.
Kim Simona, with her delicate features and carefully cultivated mystique, was nothing more than a polished doll compared to real beauty. To Emma Dawson’s beauty.
But the triumph was fleeting.
The moment her mind circled back to the groping itself—the invisible heat of his touch, the imagination of way his fingers had lingered just a second too long—her stomach lurched.
"Disgusting. Absolutely vile. Who does he think he is?!"
Her cheeks burned. Not just from anger, but from the humiliation of it all. She’d been violated. And worse, she hadn’t even been able to retaliate properly—not when they’d needed his skills to get that ascension elixir pill.
But oh, how she wanted to.
How she ached to slam her knee into his gut, crashing the rogue’s nuts to watch him crumple to the ground gasping, to make him regret ever laying a finger on her.
Beneath the fury, beneath the wounded pride, there was something else. Something she refused to name.
A grudging, reluctant awe.
Because as much as she loathed him, as much as she wanted to wipe that calm confidence off his face—Lordi Payne’s talent was real.
And that, more than anything, made her blood boil.
Proven his estimation was right, Lordi’s spirit energy completely depleted after two alchemy attempts. The final wisp of spirit energy drained from Lordi’s meridians as the last pill settled onto the jade tray. His body sagged, the AllFullOS relinquishing its control as his limits were finally reached. Two continuous batches of Legendary level Bone Tempering Pills—an impossible feat for any ordinary alchemist.
Nearby, Emma remained lost in her storm of conflicted thoughts, but Donovan Valdez had reached a quiet epiphany.
The cold arrogance that had once defined his demeanor had melted away, replaced by something uncommon on this muscular cultivator - genuine admiration. His sharp eyes, which had once regarded Lordi with nothing but contempt, now shone with a warmth that bordered on reverence. A broad, disarming smile spread across his face, the kind reserved for long-lost brothers or treasured mentors.
"Junior Brother Payne," Donovan began, his voice rich with emotion, "I must confess—this silly Senior Brother have been blind." He shook his head slowly, the gesture brimming with theatrical yet sincere regret. "Years ago, I attended a lecture by Alchemist Master Yearn Goul, the so-called ’Jade Hand of the Alchemy Peak.’ The entire assembly watched in awe as master Yearn successfully crafted a batch of mid-grade Bone Tempering Pills—among them, a single premium-level elixir. We were certain we had just witnessed the pinnacle of alchemical mastery."
A pause. A breath. Then, with deliberate weight:
"And yet, here you are—barely into your cultivation journey—crafting not one, but two continuous batches of Legendary level elixirs with nothing but a basic Dao Furnace and your own two hands." Donovan exhaled sharply, as if the very thought overwhelmed him. "To call this mere talent would be an insult. This is universe level genius—the kind that reshapes the destiny itself."
He stepped closer, his earlier hostility replaced by an almost fatherly pride.
"You are not just an ordinary Outer Sect disciple, Junior Brother Payne. You are the future of our holy Abyss Pit Sect. The kind of prodigy that comes once in a million years. The Outer Sect has produced many so-called ’stars,’ but none like you. None who could achieve this." He gestured emphatically at the pills, his voice dropping to a hushed, reverent tone. "These are not just elixir pills—this is fucking art. Proof that the Great Dao itself have taken notice of your potential."
Lordi’s breath hitched, his usual composure slipping for just a fraction of a second as Donovan’s praise washed over him. He was a man who wielded flattery like a blade—sharp, calculated, always directed outward—so to have it turned back on him with such genuine warmth was nothing short of astonishing.
His lips twitched, caught between amusement and disbelief. Literally, when was the last time someone had praised him ? Not just empty niceties, but words that carried weight, sincerity—something he hadn’t realized he’d been missing until now.
Swallowing his surprise, Lordi dipped his head in a practiced show of modesty, his voice smooth but tinged with something softer than his usual calculated charm. "Just a small effort, hardly worth mentioning."