Chapter 7: The Secrets of The Monument

The moment Tianming's fingers touched the flesh of the Herb Spirit Deer, an overwhelming hunger surged through his body. His rational mind screamed at him to cook it, but his instincts—something far more primal—demanded otherwise.

He tore into the raw meat.

The moment the first bite touched his tongue, his entire body shuddered. A surge of pleasure unlike anything he had ever experienced coursed through his veins. It was intoxicating, overwhelming—like a flood of pure energy pouring into his very being.

A deep sigh escaped his lips as he forced himself to control the sensation. "Damn… if I keep doing this, I might actually get addicted."

But this was different from before. When he had devoured the Lizardman, the power he absorbed had made his body stronger, his muscles denser, his reflexes sharper.

But this…

This energy was nourishing something deeper.

His soul.

A revelation struck him like lightning. The Lizardmen were warriors, creatures built for brute strength. That's why consuming one enhanced my body. But the Herb Spirit Deer… they're master alchemists. Their power must lie within the soul.

As the energy surged within him, his vision blurred. Once again, he was pulled into his sea of consciousness.

Tianming stood before the familiar monument—the towering, ancient structure covered in golden scriptures. But this time, something was different. New words had been inscribed upon its surface, glowing with divine radiance.

Seven-Colored Herb Spirit Deer.

His eyes widened in shock.

Royalty.

Among the Herb Spirit Deer, the Seven-Colored Deer were sacred beings, possessing alchemical abilities beyond compare. It was because of them that the Herb Spirit Deer race remained in such a high position in the Myriad Realms. Even beings from the highest races sought their guidance in pill refinement.

Before he could fully comprehend the significance, a golden light engulfed him.

Suddenly, he was in a different world.

A dreamscape.

Countless pill formulas, alchemy techniques, and refining methods flooded his mind. He saw himself standing in front of massive pill cauldrons, his hands moving with inhuman precision, guiding spiritual flames, merging ingredients, refining elixirs that could change lives.

It was as if he had been an alchemist his entire life.

When he finally snapped back to reality, his heart pounded wildly.

This is insane…

Alchemy was one of the most respected professions in the Myriad Realms. Even among humans, alchemists held unparalleled prestige. In his entire city, there was only one alchemist—a mere three-star Alchemist—yet he was treated as an equal to the City Lord.

With this knowledge, Tianming wasn't just a cultivator anymore. He was an alchemist.

Taking a deep breath, he forced himself to remain calm.

And then, his eyes drifted back to the monument.

With his newfound awareness, he examined it closely. And to his surprise, he saw another familiar name inscribed on its surface.

Lizardman.

The moment he focused on it, the world around him twisted, and he was once again pulled into a dreamscape.

This time, he found himself performing the Black Tortoise's First Technique—the powerful martial skill he had obtained when he consumed the Lizardman. But something was different.

His understanding of the technique deepened.

Before, he could barely grasp its true essence. But now, as he watched a lizardmen with a slightly grey beard execute the technique, he understood—this technique required an incredibly strong physique. His body was still too weak to bring out its full potential.

When he came back to his senses, he felt even more determined. I need to train my physical body a lot more.

But then, something else caught his attention.

A third name was inscribed on the monument.

Aurora Silk Serpent.

However, unlike the others, its name was dim, almost gray.

A strange sensation filled his heart—as if he wasn't ready to inherit its power.

The Aurora Silk Serpent's General had been too strong. Unlike the Lizardman and the Herb Spirit Deer, it had been an extremely powerful creature. I need to become stronger before I can access its abilities.

Taking a deep breath, Tianming withdrew from his sea of consciousness.

As his vision cleared, he found himself back in Penglai Forest.

The ancient trees loomed around him, their massive branches weaving a natural canopy that shielded the moonlight. The air was thick with the scent of spiritual herbs and damp soil, the distant roars of beasts echoing in the night.

Tianming sat still for a moment, trying to process everything.

Alchemy… the monument… the newfound knowledge surging through him. It was too much to take in all at once.

But one thing was certain.

His journey had just begun.

Pushing himself up, he adjusted his robes and made his way home.

As he stepped inside, the comforting scent of food filled his nostrils. His aunt, Li Yuyan, stood by the stove, stirring a fragrant pot of stew.

She glanced at him briefly before returning to her cooking. "You're late."

Tianming scratched his head. "I got caught up with something."

Li Yuyan didn't pry. Instead, she placed a bowl of steaming food in front of him. "Eat."

As he picked up his chopsticks, he couldn't help but smile. No matter how much his world changed, home would always be the same.

"You've been eating a lot lately," she remarked casually, sipping her tea. "If you keep this up, I might have to start hunting spirit beasts just to keep you fed."

Tianming laughed. "Maybe I'm just growing."

She raised an eyebrow but said nothing, taking another sip of her tea. "You should rest soon. The Dragon Martial Competition isn't far off. Don't exhaust yourself before the real battles begin."

Tianming nodded. "Yeah… I'll head to bed soon."

As the night stretched on, he lay in bed, staring at the ceiling.

Alchemy… battle techniques… the mysterious monument…

He had discovered power beyond anything he had ever imagined. But deep inside, he knew—this was only the beginning.

With a quiet exhale, he closed his eyes.

Deep within the Lizardmen's Stronghold, far from the lands of men, a dark and oppressive chamber loomed in eerie silence. The room was vast, its stone walls etched with ancient carvings of battles long past, illuminated only by the flickering glow of blue spirit flames.

At the center, a massive black stone throne sat upon an elevated platform. Upon it rested an imposing Lizardman, his scales dark as obsidian, his body radiating an aura of absolute authority. A slightly gray beard adorned his sharp jawline—a rare trait among his kind, a mark of both age and battle-won wisdom.

Seated on either side of the throne were several high-ranking Lizardmen, warriors clad in blood-red war armor, each exuding a presence so fierce it could shake mountains.

The air was thick with tension.

Suddenly, the heavy doors of the hall were thrown open with a resounding boom. A single Lizardman soldier, panting and trembling, rushed inside. His armor was in disarray, his eyes filled with terror.

He dropped to one knee before the throne, his voice quivering as he spoke.

"G-Great Chieftain… your son… He has fallen. He was slain in battle… by a human."

For a moment, there was silence.

Then—

"WHAT?!"

The roar that followed shook the entire hall.

The Chieftain's claws dug into the armrests of his throne, leaving deep grooves in the black stone. His golden reptilian eyes burned with unrestrained fury, his tail lashing against the ground with a force that sent cracks through the marble floor.

The gathered warriors stiffened, their own eyes filled with shock and anger.

The Chieftain rose, his towering frame casting a long, terrifying shadow over the kneeling soldier. His aura surged, so overwhelming that even the battle-hardened warriors at his side felt their bodies tense.

"Who?" His voice was deathly calm, but beneath it rumbled the storm of impending destruction. "Who killed my son?"

The soldier hesitated for a fraction of a second—a fatal mistake.

"I SAID WHO?!" the Chieftain's voice thundered, the sheer force of his rage sending a gust of violent wind through the chamber. The soldier flinched before hurriedly answering, his forehead pressed to the cold stone.

"W-We do not know yet… But we are investigating, Great Chieftain! The humans that fought in that battle—one of them must be responsible!"

A dangerous silence settled over the hall.

The Chieftain's eyes gleamed with unholy murderous intent. His rage was not simply that of a grieving father, but of a warlord whose kin had been taken from him.

"Then find him." His voice was slow, measured—but it carried the weight of an unbreakable command.

His claws scraped against his throne, the sound eerily sharp in the silence. "I don't care if it takes days, weeks, or years.

Bring me the head of the human who killed my son."

The warrior bowed so low that his snout touched the floor. "As you command, Great Chieftain!"

As the soldier retreated from the hall, the Lizardmen generals exchanged glances.

One of them, a scarred veteran with countless years of battle experience, spoke in a deep, rumbling tone.

"Chieftain… if a human was strong enough to kill your son, we must proceed with caution. This is not an ordinary foe."

The Chieftain did not respond immediately. He sat back onto his throne, his fingers tapping against the stone armrest rhythmically, his mind a storm of bloodthirsty thoughts.

Then, a slow, chilling smile crept onto his face.

"If he is strong… then that only means one thing."

His golden eyes flashed like a predator locking onto its prey.

"He is worth hunting."