Chapter 81 - Slaves
Despite refining a Rank 7 pill, Cale recognized an easily identifiable limitation. He lacked proper alchemy experience and practice. While he’d successfully created it, he hadn’t extracted full potential from the materials. A practiced alchemist would have gained twice or thrice the benefits. He has gotten most of them anyway, courtesy of the system’s assistance of course. Its his top sugarmommy.
The truth was simple to understand, that he was only a Tier 3 alchemist. What he’d actually made was around a Rank 3 or 4 pill, albeit at maximum potential for his current skill level.
While flying, his thoughts drifted toward his newfound concept.
’Since my concept is ink, should I start painting? Or calligraphy? I’ve read in novels about cultivators infusing Dao into paintings and letters—the artwork itself becomes weapon. Sigh, maybe I’m dreaming too big. I’ve never drawn anything for more than two minutes.’
He paused, refocusing. ’Anyway, let me meet Emma first when I reach. I need to comprehend ice spiritual roots and acquire them at least partially. Ice is the optimal method to utilize Yin energy, and I possess a Yin physique!’
Meanwhile, his three spiritual bodies had already read all three pages from the Book of Endless Refinement. The harvest was indeed bountiful.
This mysterious master of his had documented several pills and elixirs which Cale could produce—including lesser versions for profitable mass produce.
Youth Regaining Pills, Spirit Gathering Pills, Low-tier Healing Elixirs, Blood Refining Elixirs.
’The Youth Regaining Pills especially would sell like candies. Noble women would literally drool for them. I need to establish some kind of shop or should I use the Family’s name?’
"Ink-attributed talismans will definitely improve too now with my concept opening. And if I can learn Taoist characters eventually, I might unlock more applications. Right now though..."
He flew above the Kingdom of Oravelle—the neighboring realm to Velard. One of four kingdoms on this desolate continent: Velard, Morvella, Oravelle Theocracy, and Ithrandis. At least Oravelle maintained peaceful relations with Velard.
Their dual-ruler system—both king and pope—typically placed the second crown prince as pontiff to avoid succession disputes in royal family.
’I hope they don’t mistake me for some flying monster and start firing.’
His thoughts suddenly halted on a passage from one of the pages. This master mentioned something called "Twelve Primordial Energies."
’What’s that about?... Well, I suppose it’s not my time to know such things yet.’
He flew for hours, resting occasionally. At this speed, reaching Emma would still require around two more days.
In a tavern’s outdoor stall, sitting with food before him, Cale contemplated his situation.
’Currently... I’m quite half-assed. Sigh, with no proper foundation, I’m just being continuously fed more and more new powers. But I can’t deny its uses. I didn’t cross through time just to whine about weakness when I have the power to change things.’
While Cale desperately desired eternal life, he refused to reach its endpoint and look backward with regret—unable to change circumstances even with overwhelming strength.
His greed was both sin and a goddamn virtue. He required more than immortality; he needed zero regrets. Living forever alone would be pathetically pointless. When people like Rexa were willing to stake their lives on him, ignoring her signs for long would be a foolish mistake. Human nature was fickle; even devoted followers could eventually abandon you some day.
And hell, yanderes might just kill you and then themselves.
He observed the tavern’s patrons. Nearly every woman stared at him. Even middle-aged women with husbands standing beside them!
’How fickle. Heh. Oh, my pure jade-like body is getting defiled just by their stares.’
Finishing his meal, he stood and walked ahead, the Thorned Lotus folded in his left hand while his right remained clasped behind his back. After an hour of walking, he encountered an enormous crowd blocking the road.
He approached a nearby woman. "What’s happening here?"
She became instantly flustered. "O-Oh! Lord... it’s just... war slaves from the southern tribes. Their chieftain was beheaded this morning."
Cale nodded thoughtfully. ’It’s started, hmm. At least something’s going according to the timeline I know...’
He patted her shoulder and moved past, the girl turning to stare after his retreating form but he wasn’t there.
’Slaves, huh? Should I get some? They’re mortals who are perfect for experimentation with human physiology and Genesis. I can test whether I can make human-like bodies... phew, well, let’s get them anyways.’
Their souls were mortal-tier with negligible cultivation karma which was ideal nourishment for his eighteen blades.
While the fan didn’t strictly require feeding, it possessed his divine consciousness and deserved sustenance every few weeks. His three soul bodies and main body all required soul energy, and he couldn’t just go around hunting high-level cultivators every few days.
He followed the slave caravan until they stopped at a massive auction house. Before they could enter, Cale called out, a disarming smile with the expression like a car salesman. "Wait, sirs. Might I have a few minutes of your time?"
He amplified his voice with sound manipulation, ensuring everyone heard.
The caravan’s front guards and middle escorts halted immediately.
A middle-aged man in a black suit emerged—likely the household butler. Observing Cale’s bearing, gaze and cultivation level, he recognized immediately that this wasn’t some common vagrant.
This man belonged to a significant family.
The butler bowed respectfully. "Lord, how should I address you?"
Cale snapped open his fan, smiling. "You can call me Nex."
"A-ah, Lord Nex... how may we serve you?"
"I noticed your caravan earlier. I assume you’re planning to sell these slaves at standard prices?"
"Y-yes, Lord. We aren’t conducting an auction, merely standard commerce."
’Standard prices, hmm? They must be in a hurry.’
"I’ll purchase them all. What do you say?"
The butler fell silent for several seconds, Cale understood he was communicating mentally with his employer. After a moment, he smiled. "Ah, the young lord has agreed to your proposal, sir. Though he requests payment in spiritual stones. The capital’s experiencing some scarcity lately."
"Oh, don’t worry. How many do you need? There are forty-eight slaves, correct? How about one hundred low-grade spiritual stones?"
A hundred spiritual stones of low-grade could buy you a big mansion, tens of servants, and you won’t have to work for another decade or so, just the stones could pay for their salaries. So of course, he agreed.
"Y-yes, Lord! Thank you, Lord Nex!"
’Sigh, I only have middle-grade stones now.’
With that negotiation complete, all forty-eight slaves became Cale’s property.