A Lesson in Humility

The shattering of the diagnostic tool was like a stone dropped into the quiet, arrogant pond of the Alchemy Pavilion. The ripples spread instantly. The senior disciple, whose name was Lin, stood frozen behind her stall, her mind a blank slate of shock. She had built her reputation on the purity of her master's wares, a purity that she had just seen rendered utterly obsolete.

The students who had been laughing moments before were now silent, their eyes wide with a mixture of greed and awe as they stared at the perfect, translucent pill in Amrit's hand. They were all from wealthy or powerful backgrounds; they understood the true significance of what they had just witnessed. A pill with 100% efficiency and zero impurities was not just an alchemical product; it was a miracle. It was a strategic asset that could turn the tide of a battle or guarantee a breakthrough in cultivation. Its value was immeasurable.

"Everything," Lin whispered, her voice barely audible. She began to move with a frantic, clumsy haste, her previous stern composure gone. She pulled out rare, glowing herbs from protected cases, unlocked chests filled with preserved monster organs, and gathered vials of precious mineral powders. She piled them all on the counter, a treasure trove of alchemical wealth that represented years of her and her master's work.

Zian watched the exchange, his initial shock giving way to a dawning, weary sense of familiarity. This was Amrit's way. He did not climb hierarchies; he simply rendered them irrelevant. He didn't play by the rules of supply and demand; he created a new economy where he was the sole provider of perfection.

Amrit calmly took the mountain of ingredients, storing them in his spatial pouch. He then placed the single Pristine Source Pill on the counter. "A fair trade," he said.

He turned to leave, but his path was blocked. A group of senior students, their robes marking them as high-ranking members of the Alchemists' Guild within the Academy, had surrounded the stall. At their head was a tall, haughty-looking young man with long, elegant fingers and an aura that smelled faintly of refined fire and rare blossoms. This was Yan Tao, the acknowledged king of the Alchemy Pavilion, a Core Disciple and a personal apprentice to one of the Academy's Grand Alchemist Elders.

"Halt," Yan Tao commanded, his voice smooth but filled with an unquestionable authority. He did not look at Amrit, but at the single, perfect pill on the counter, his eyes burning with an intense, possessive light. "Such a thing should not be in the hands of a mere Outer Court disciple. That pill is a danger and a revelation. It belongs in the hands of those who can properly study and comprehend it. Name your price in Merit Points. I will buy it."

It was not a request; it was a demand, backed by his status and power. He saw Amrit as a lucky fool who had stumbled upon a treasure, not as its creator.

Amrit met his gaze, his expression unreadable. "It is not for sale. It was part of a trade."

"A trade with a junior alchemist for common ingredients?" Yan Tao scoffed. "Do not be a fool. You do not understand what you have. I am offering you a fortune."

"You are offering me points," Amrit corrected him calmly. "I am interested in knowledge and materials. The trade I made was more valuable to me."

Yan Tao's face tightened with anger. To be refused so placidly by a first-year nobody was an insult he was not accustomed to. "Do you know who I am?"

"I know you are a man who wishes to take something that is not his," Amrit replied, his voice still even. "And I know you are standing in my way."

A wave of intimidating spiritual pressure rolled off Yan Tao, pressing down on Amrit. It was the power of a late-stage Spirit Sea master, refined and potent. He was trying to cow Amrit into submission.

Amrit did not even blink. The pressure washed over his own boundless Spirit Sea and vanished without a trace. It was like a single raindrop falling into the ocean.

He took a single, deliberate step forward. He did not release his own aura. He did not issue a threat. But in that one, simple step, he projected an aura of absolute, unshakable purpose. It was a silent declaration that he would walk through any obstacle, be it a man or a mountain.

Yan Tao, the proud Core Disciple, felt a primal instinct of danger. He felt the same thing the guard on the Sky-Walk had felt: the sensation of standing before a quiet, sleeping abyss. His spiritual pressure faltered. He found himself, against his own will, taking a half-step back to clear the path.

Amrit walked past him without a second glance.

The entire Pavilion watched the exchange in stunned silence. Yan Tao, their undisputed leader, the alchemical genius, had just been effortlessly cowed and dismissed by the mysterious first-year. He had tried to assert his dominance and had been rebuffed so completely that it hadn't even registered as a conflict for his opponent.

Yan Tao stood frozen, his face burning with a humiliation so profound it was worse than any physical defeat. His authority in the Pavilion had been shattered. He looked at the Pristine Source Pill, now in Lin's trembling hands, then at Amrit's retreating back. His arrogance curdled into a cold, venomous resentment. He had made a new, powerful enemy.

As Amrit and Zian walked away from the Pavilion, Zian let out a long, slow breath. "You have a talent, my friend."

"Alchemy?" Amrit asked.

"No," Zian said, shaking his head. "A talent for turning the most powerful and arrogant people in the Academy into your sworn enemies. Valerius, Kael, and now Yan Tao. You're collecting them like rare stamps."

"They choose to be enemies," Amrit replied. "I simply choose not to be a stepping stone."

They walked in silence for a while, the chaos of the Pavilion fading behind them. They had what they came for, and more. But the lesson of the day was clear. Amrit's power did not just break artifacts and set records; it broke pride. And in a place like the Academy, a man's pride was often the most dangerous and volatile thing he possessed.

As they neared their residential sector, Amrit stopped. He turned to Zian. From his pouch, he produced another perfect, translucent pill. "Here."

Zian stared at it. "I… I can't accept this. This is a priceless treasure!"

"You are my ally," Amrit said simply. "My allies should be equipped for the battles to come. The final trial is a combat tournament. A single moment of recovery can be the difference between victory and defeat. Consider it an investment in our continued success."

He pressed the pill into Zian's hand. The scholar-disciple looked down at the perfect sphere, then back at Amrit, his eyes shining with a complex mixture of gratitude and overwhelming awe. He had allied himself with Amrit out of intellectual curiosity, seeing him as a fascinating puzzle. He now realized he had pledged his loyalty to a force that was actively reshaping the world around it.

"Thank you, Amrit," Zian said, his voice thick with emotion. He bowed deeply, not as a student to a peer, but as a sworn man to his lord.

Amrit had given Yan Tao a lesson in humility. He had just given Zian a lesson in loyalty. He was gathering not just resources, but people. And in the great, epic battle against destiny, loyal allies would be far more valuable than any number of perfect pills.