While Sect Master Yán gathered the ingredients needed for the pill refinement, Lù Tiān stepped silently into the courtyard. The sun filtered gently through the clouds, casting shifting patterns over the stone paths and moss-covered tiles.

  He found Liú Yīrán sitting cross-legged beneath the shade of a spirit willow, her breathing calm and steady. Thin traces of spiritual Qi flowed around her like threads of mist weak, but present.

  Lù Tiān watched for a moment, arms folded. Her foundation is forming... slowly, but it's clean. No signs of forced absorption. Not bad for a mortal just days ago.

  In the blink of an eye, Lù Tiān vanished from the courtyard. He reappeared high above the sect, robes fluttering in the wind as he looked down upon Misty Cloud Gate from the sky. His crimson eyes narrowed slightly.

  Forming a Heaven-grade pill will cause a calamity, he thought. The spiritual pressure alone could tear this place apart.

  He scanned the sect’s protective array with a flick of his divine sense and snorted quietly. Hmph. This weak array wouldn’t even hold against an early-stage Golden Core beast, let alone the descent of pill tribulation.

  His gaze turned thoughtful. Perhaps I should construct a formation of my own. This will be home for a bit, after all.

  Lù Tiān ascended even higher into the skies, his white hair trailing like a banner in the wind. His eyes glowed with a deeper crimson, their light reflecting against the clouds above.

  When he reached the proper altitude, he raised both hands and began forming intricate hand seals with deliberate precision. Each seal pulsed with red Qi, drawing faint sigils in the air. With each motion, a new layer of restriction blanketed the sect below. Protective veils of spiritual power formed over Misty Cloud Gate, interwoven with sealing marks and stabilizing nodes.

  This continued in silence for the length of half a stick of incense, the atmosphere growing heavier as the formation took shape quiet, vast, and immovable.

  Below, nearly a hundred disciples paused their training and looked up, awe spreading across their faces as they saw the fearsome yet majestic figure hovering above the sect. Murmurs rippled through the group.

  "Who is that?"

  "He’s not from our sect, is he?"

  "I've never seen someone like him before... he looks terrifying."

  Lù Tiān paid them no mind. He continued forming seals with unwavering focus. As his Qi surged forth and the final layers of the formation snapped into place, a faint hum echoed across the skies. The completed barrier pulsed with strength able to fend off even those at the early stages of Nascent Soul. It shimmered briefly, then faded from sight, anchored invisibly across the sect’s borders.

  This is the best I can manage for now, he thought. After all... my current cultivation is only in the early Nascent Soul realm. Without lifting the seal, there’s little more I can do.

  As Lù Tiān began his descent, the wind around him settled, and the crimson glow in his eyes gradually dimmed. His long white hair drifted behind him like a trail of moonlight.

  He touched down on the sect’s central platform just as Sect Master Yán approached, a jade box in hand and a solemn look on his face.

  Lù Tiān looked toward him, his expression unreadable. It’s time, he thought.

  Sect Master Yán offered the jade box with both hands. "All the ingredients you asked for are here, Senior Lù."

  Lù Tiān took the box, inspecting it briefly with his divine sense before giving a faint nod. "Good."

  Yán hesitated, then said, "What you did earlier forming that array above the sect... was that truly necessary?"

  Lù Tiān's eyes narrowed. "If you want your sect to still be standing when the tribulation comes, yes. Heaven-grade pills don’t form quietly."

  Yán blinked, stunned. "Heaven-grade...?" he muttered under his breath, his eyes widening. Even among mid-tier sects, such pills were treasures fought over in blood.

  Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

  Yán lowered his gaze and gave a respectful bow. "Then, once again, I thank you. Not just for me but for everyone here."

  Lù Tiān looked past him toward the distant cauldron room. "Save your thanks. I don’t do charity. This is just the beginning."

  He turned slightly toward Yán. "Does your sect have a proper alchemical cauldron?"

  Yán’s face tightened with embarrassment. "We... do not, Senior. Our sect has never had an alchemist skilled enough to require one."

  Lù Tiān let out a low sigh and gave him a disappointed look. "Tch. Figures."

  Without waiting for further explanation, he began walking toward the refining room, each step steady and unhurried.

  "Forget it," he said over his shoulder. "I’ll manage without."

  As he walked away, he added without looking back, "Heal your wounds from the Thunderboar, Yán. You'll need to be at your best when the time comes."

  The refining room he entered was humble and plainly built. Stone walls lined with basic talismans gave off a faint flicker of spiritual light, though many were faded with age. A simple fire pit lay in the center, cold and unused. Rusted tools for herb grinding and powder mixing were neatly stacked in a corner, clearly untouched for years.

  There were no specialized ventilation arrays or inscription panels, and the spiritual gathering formation etched into the floor was thin and flawed, its lines worn by time and neglect.

  Lù Tiān stepped inside and swept his gaze over it all with quiet indifference. "Primitive," he muttered to himself. "But it will do."

  Without a word, Lù Tiān knelt near the center of the room and began forming a complex series of hand seals. Spiritual lines of light flared along the floor, reactivating the old formation but this time, with far greater brilliance. He infused the spiritual gathering array with his own Qi, mending broken runes and strengthening the gathering nodes. The light swelled with renewed vigor, a faint humming rising as the room’s ambient Qi density thickened.

  With a final seal, Lù Tiān struck the boundary of the room with his palm, casting a dome of sealing Qi around the space. It shimmered briefly before vanishing from sight, locking the chamber against intrusion.

  Lù Tiān gave a faint nod of approval, his eyes narrowing slightly as he felt the subtle shift in the room's Qi flow. Though crude, the formation now pulsed with stability.

  He stepped toward the center and extended his hand.

  The Demon God's Flame... he thought, and a small flicker of dark crimson fire ignited in his palm. This was no mere spiritual flame or borrowed essence; it was a fragment of the true Demon God's power, inherited through his blood. It was not a cultivation technique, nor something any mortal could replicate. The flame pulsed with otherworldly heat, whispering destruction with every flicker.

  This is all I have left from the Demon Realm, he thought. Even this much... will be more than enough.

  With a slight motion of his hand, Lù Tiān opened the jade box with his Qi. The herbs within floated out gently, suspended mid-air in a slow, orbiting circle.

  First, he separated the pale-blue Emerald Soulshade Grass, its delicate fibers pulsing faintly with yin-aligned essence. This herb, once dried and aged over a hundred years, would serve as the pill’s foundation stabilizing the core structure.

  Next, he brought forth a crystalline bottle of Essence Dew of the Eightfold Sky, a liquid condensed from the mists of eight elemental Qi veins. Carefully, he directed a thread of flame beneath the bottle, evaporating a precise amount into the air so it could bind and refine the Soulshade’s volatile elements.

  Finally, the most volatile of the ingredients a marble-sized, darkened core taken from a mid-grade Thunderhide Boar, a 玄兽 whose essence thrummed with dormant lightning energy. The moment it emerged, crackling sparks filled the air. Lù Tiān narrowed his eyes and reined it in with a sharp pulse of Qi.

  Only then did he begin the true refinement.

  He closed his eyes briefly. Cauldronless refinement... It was hundreds of times more difficult than traditional alchemy. Few dared attempt it, and fewer still succeeded. Even at his peak, he had only managed it a handful of times.

  The flames in his palm flickered and swelled.

  Let's see if I still remember, he thought.

  With a flick of his wrist, the Demon God's Flame rose upward, expanding into a small, controlled vortex of dark red fire. The herbs spun slowly in the air above the flame, and Lù Tiān narrowed his eyes, carefully manipulating the heat.

  The first step was decomposition. He raised two fingers and directed a thread of flame toward the floating herbs. One by one, they began to wither and break down essence separating from dross in a delicate balance. A single miscalculation, and the entire process would fail.

  Sweat beaded at his brow despite the control he exerted. Without a cauldron to stabilize and shield, even the smallest wave of Qi fluctuation had to be corrected manually.

  Next came fusion. Lù Tiān rotated his hand and invoked a second set of seals. The purified essences began to spiral inward, drawn toward the flame's core. They crackled as they collided, resisting each other violently before slowly beginning to harmonize under his guidance.

  He muttered under his breath, reinforcing the control seals. The orb of condensed essence flickered wildly but held together unstable, but intact.

  Hours passed in silence. The scent of rare herbs, charred impurities, and refined spirit essence filled the room.

  Then, Lù Tiān finally opened his eyes. The final step had come: compression. With a growl, he condensed the fire with both hands, forcing the swirling orb of spiritual essence into a single glowing sphere.

  A tremor rippled through the chamber as spiritual pressure surged.vvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvv