Plan A... Failed?

"1 stalk. We have 1 stalk to make 1 solution out of. No more, potentially none if something goes wrong. The potential solution to our problem is a liquid solution. The Once-Over Solution. It's main component is this: the Legionnaire Stalk; one of these ingested alone can strengthen a common man 10-fold for a week, but he'll be crippled for the rest of his life. A cultivator who eats one of these at the 5th rank of the Lower stage will drop 5 stages as his price, and must restart their cultivation of energy from the very beginning. Nothing comes for free you know?" chuckled Betel matter-of-factly, before forming a quizzical grin.

"But what if someone were to take all the rampaging energy and drip-feed it at a slowly increasing rate for a cultivator to process into their own energy? What if some mad genius, an old coot with nothing to lose, created a concoction of toxins that slows your digestion to a crawl, and tried distilling the essence of two poisons together to make something new? How senile this man was, that this was exactly his plan. He planned to release the recipe to the Alchemist's Guild in exchange for a lifetime tenure as an Elder so he could live the rest of his life in peace, training his disciple and leaving behind his legacy".

Slamming his fist down on the table, he took a deep breath. Regaining his composure quickly, Betel chuckled slightly, "My master may have been an old fool, but he was a genius alchemist, and this was his greatest work. Taking it after you've reached the Lower rank of power can get you to the Middle rank in a flash. Mind you, the amount of energy and the time it takes all varies, if you're a hapless weakling or an untalented wastrel then I'm not wasting this potion on you".

As seemed to have become the norm every time Betel opened his mouth, James was left confused and with questions spiralling through his mind. "Why me? Couldn't you give it to one of the others in the tribe, the 4 others and yourself are way more qualified than me!" argued James, continuing on without pause, "And like you said, what if I can't do it? I might be a Child of Heaven but I still don't know how to use my Trait properly, I don't even technically have a vessel to store energy besides my literal soul! What does that even-".

"Shut up" interjected Betel, carefree and seemingly having had enough of James, "Quit your whining, I chose you because you're our best shot. I would love to give this solution to myself but my body would just squander the energy trying to repair the injury to my chest". "What about the other 4 people then?" asked James, now even more confused. "The chief is old, and the other three aren't exactly on board with my views on the Purple Cloud Tribe, they're damn cowards who'd prefer to turtle up and wait for us all to die".

"That leaves you or Crescent, and not to be mean to the fellow, but he's not exactly the sharpest tool in the shed. The other Cloud Banishing Order warriors are in a gray zone, and I don't know if I can be bothered to figure out where they stand. So in the end, you're the only option we've got" stated Betel flatly, "Lord save us all honestly".

Scratching his head, James thought about it for a second before pulling a large grin and simply responding, "Nah, I'm on board with your plan, but I'm not taking some cauldron-drug to get strong quickly. I'm going to do it my way while we still have time, I can show you what I've thought of if you'd like?". His curiosity piqued, Betel decided to follow James out of the tent and into the forest.

After an hour of walking and chatting about future improvement proposals to their delight, the pair pause, with Betel quickly stretching his arm out to block James from walking further. "You imbecile! You nearly sauntered right into Ironsoul Pond right there boy!" yelled Betel. James smiled and wordlessly pushed Betel's arm out of the way, casually strolling towards the pond and diving in. Betel sighed, his expectations weren't high, but suicide? How is this going to help at all!?

After a few seconds of Betel worrying, there was a small flash of silverish light as the Ironsoul Pond flashed out of existence, its energy having cleanly been absorbed by James, who was now shrouded in a visible aura. "What in the ever living hell was that!" exclaimed Betel, not believing his eyes. "Not only aren't you a pile of goo, you're a fully-fledged Lower rank stage 1 cultivator! How? This is amazing! If you can grow like this from every pond, you'll be strong enough without the potion in no time!".

James explained further, "It isn't an omnipotent gift or anything, I can just absorb and process energy. Actually, I really can't train efficiently at all. The energy in that pond is so chaotic and dangerous that pretty much everyone, no matter how strong, avoids it like the plague right?". Betel scratched his head for a minute before having an 'aha' moment, "Oh! So what you're saying is that you're like a living alchemy reaction!".

"What?" responded James, slightly confused. "Ah yes, you aren't really an alchemist are you?" replied Betel, "If I take a stalk of Saint's Grass, I have to thresh off the coating first, and boil away the impurities before I get a useful medicinal salve. At the end of it, the amount of Saint's Grass that I can actually use in the reaction is only around 20%, your energy absorption seems to be similar, yes?".

Nodding his head in affirmation, James walked up to the pond, picking up a drop on his finger before watching it disappear in a flash. "I can only absorb around 1% of the energy of the pond, the rest seems to be used to power the array that lets me do this". Finishing up their conversation, Betel and James continued to wander around the forest, spending the whole day absorbing ponds and chatting. By the time James reached back to the village, he was actually already a Lower-4 cultivator.

After returning, Betel left to tell the good news to Crescent, leaving James alone in the alchemy tent to ponder over the day's events. 'This is awesome, I feel like I could beat up ten of me!' he thought to himself, throwing a punch into the air at lightning speed, followed up by a roundhouse kick into the air, his newly toned muscles rippling underneath his clothes and bulging against the seams of his trousers.

Voicing his concerns, with a look of worry on his face, Betel solemnly said, "This is worse than we thought…", confusing his new compatriot slightly. "How so? Didn't I reach Lower-4 in a day's work, sure it might be slowing down every stage, but it's still way quicker than we thought right?". Betel sat down on a rickety wooden stool, the legs slightly wobbling underneath, catching his balance as he snapped his head up to look at James with sorrow plastered across his eyebrows, "They've captured the chief".