Chapter 74
Chapter 74
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 73
Chapter Title: Pill Furnace Art
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‘Bagua Furnace...’
Dominique couldn’t hide his bitter expression at hearing the word after so long.
The Empire, which spared no means or methods to raise its realms, preferred longevity pills over spirit medicines.
Spirit medicines helped boost mana to break through realms, but they had one fatal flaw: the more varieties you used, the lower your ceiling became.
Spirit medicines worked by forcibly infusing mana to shatter the realm ceiling,
but using different kinds mixed them up, turning the mana into a chaotic mess.
Of course, in this modern age where people were content with 5th or 6th realm, spirit medicines were popular.
At 5th or 6th realm, you could lord over a territory anywhere and live a satisfying life, and at 7th, you could live without bowing to anyone.
But back in the Empire days, 5th or 6th realm superhumans still had to watch their words around the elders.
So spirit medicines were used only once, to break a single wall, and only with carefully selected ones that suited you—they weren’t that favored.
Instead, what superhumans coveted back then were longevity pills.
Longevity pills didn’t touch mana, only extending lifespan, so they didn’t directly contribute to realms.
But the extra lifespan meant more training time, and some even granted special abilities just by consuming them.
The Golden Core Pill made the body as hard as metal.
The White Pill slightly extended life but completely halted aging frailty.
The Divine Pill elevated all physical abilities beyond human limits.
Normal superhumans were just slightly stronger humans without mana, but pill-enhanced special abilities made them superhuman even without it.
And naturally, among superhumans of the same realm, the difference in pill-granted abilities decided the victor.
Among these pills, the most powerful was the one called the Golden Pill.
Eating it extended lifespan as a basic effect, and made the body as hard as metal—but that was just a side benefit.
The Golden Pill’s true power was maximizing regeneration.
Torn muscles regenerated tougher, eventually becoming metal-hard.
Aging was treated as a disease and erased by regeneration.
It could even regenerate a severed head—no need to say more.
But this Golden Pill had a serious drawback.
‘It mortgages lifespan.’
It borrowed lifespan to enhance regeneration.
So superhumans enhanced by the Golden Pill didn’t recklessly rely on it alone.
Even accounting for that, the Golden Pill was the legendary top-ranked pill, outshining all others.
And the only furnace that could make this Golden Pill was the Bagua Furnace,
‘Which my master possessed.’
Thus, Duke’s master wielded immense prestige.
He had hundreds of disciples, and even the imperial family couldn’t easily ignore his authority.
The royals coveted the Bagua Furnace but couldn’t seize it.
Only the master himself and his three chief disciples knew how to operate it.
Moreover, the Golden Pill required periodic consumption to replenish lifespan as regeneration shortened it—half like having your lifeline gripped.
So the royals and Duke’s master were in a symbiotic relationship.
The royals supplied materials with their power, and in exchange, the master provided Golden Pills.
Creating power through wisdom and technique rather than realm was rare even in the Empire.
Naturally, Duke’s master became a celebrity in the Empire.
An old man at mere 7th realm, wielding power even the royals couldn’t dismiss.
People called him the Great Sage Pater.
“The Great Sage Pater was an old man, Duke’s master. I assume Your Majesty knows of him...”
Peter glanced at Rex.
Rex recalled the academy history lecture and nodded.
“I only knew him as the Empire’s last sage.”
The title of sage was officially bestowed by the state, like hero.
Given to scholars or mages who achieved great feats in their fields—like a Nobel Prize, simply put.
“The grand elder of magical artifacts, who developed hundreds of spirit medicines and artifacts? I never imagined Duke was his disciple.”
He was an old man who had left a mark in history.
Peter, satisfied with their responses, continued.
“That old man was the era’s greatest magical artisan and alchemist. His masterpiece was the Bagua Furnace.”
Peter’s brow furrowed as he dredged up old memories.
“I called the Bagua Furnace the crucible for Golden Pills, but precisely, it was a multipurpose smelter capable of producing any material. Alchemists call it the alchemist’s cauldron.”
Put special ingredients in that cauldron, alter their properties eight times, and forge the ninth form: the Golden Pill.
Rex nodded, mentally recording Peter’s explanation in the system.
“I see. So what were those special ingredients?”
At Rex’s question, blue scales briefly rippled across Peter’s body before vanishing.
His polymorph composure had cracked for a moment.
Tap tap.
Peter repeatedly tapped his staff on the floor as if hiding emotions, then took a deep breath and spoke.
“Humans steeped in love.”
“?”
“Humans raised with abundant love from the consumer.”
Love works miracles.
This was evident from Ari and King Etheric’s case.
Though they’d never seen each other’s faces, the king instinctively held back and chose defeat.
The Great Sage Pater took note of this miracle of love.
—Turning a superhuman raised with love into a pill would undoubtedly yield the finest product!
To reiterate, the Hexion Empire seriously believed that as long as you transformed people into pills or spirit medicines, no karma accrued.
—This isn’t cannibalism; it’s pill consumption!
Since karma wasn’t numerically visible, they didn’t hesitate to take that path.
The emperor turned beloved children and grandchildren into Golden Pills, great nobles their heirs, and Pater his disciples.
That’s why Pater’s three chief disciples changed frequently.
Publicly, they often died in external attacks, earning him fame as an old man with no disciple luck,
but in truth, it was a grand play by the royals, Pater, and great nobles.
“And Duke was no exception.”
Duke had claimed the chief disciple seat under Pater in less than fifty years.
He endured the jealous glares of senior and junior brothers but ignored them, basking in the master’s favor.
“Back then, I often drank with Duke. Or rather, Duke would barge into my mansion once a week.”
— “Check this out, I trained with master this time... Here’s the result! Hehe, come on, try it.”
Peter smiled fondly, recalling memories over a century old.
Hana, listening; Jane, eavesdropping via firefly spirit from afar;
and Rex and Ari were stunned.
“Wait a minute!”
“What? My lord???”
[No way, Dominique? For real?]
“Elder Peter, perhaps your memory...”
“Your Highness, this old man’s memory isn’t that hazy.”
Duke back then wasn’t the solemn man now; he was more carefree.
In official settings, he was similar, but privately, he joked and relaxed fully—a clear insider who separated work and play.
“That’s why he visited my mansion.”
Peter had long been ostracized among the Blue Dragons.
Despite his duke title, his belief that bearing the people’s dreams was the duty of the powerful alienated even his kin.
Duke was the only one who sided with him.
The two bonded over drinks; initially Peter looked after Duke in many ways, but soon Duke cared for Peter.
“He was a witty, capable youth then. And a beast who never knew surrender.”
When Duke was 3rd realm, catching a sword aimed at his neck with his teeth and ripping out the heart—Peter was shocked.
“I’ve digressed. Anyway, Duke and I were close back then.”
“Ahh...”
[You could tell more...]
Hana and Jane expressed regret, but the focus was the Bagua Furnace, not Duke’s past, so they moved on.
“Then one day, the man who came drinking weekly said he couldn’t for a while—closed-door training with master.”
Peter’s fingertips trembled faintly.
“A month passed, then four, then a year—no word from Duke. Worried, one day he appeared. Covered in burns.”
“...”
The reason was obvious.
Disciple raised with love.
Condition for Golden Pill in Bagua Furnace.
A year’s disappearance and burns.
“I was shocked and tried treating him. Then I found a Golden Pill in his robes and fed it to him hastily.”
Peter’s trembling worsened.
As if unwilling to recall that past.
Peter didn’t know Duke’s face from memory.
But the squelching of clothes stuck to burns and the horrific rasp of charred vocal cords were unforgettable.
Undoubtedly, the man before him had screamed with exposed facial muscles, bared teeth below cheek flesh, eyes gleaming.
— “That crap!! You’re giving me that!! Tell me straight, Peter! Did you know the Golden Pill’s ingredient!?”
Peter was 7th realm then.
Duke who appeared was 7th realm too, one realm higher than before training.
His injuries were fatal; Peter had no reason to fear.
But the thick bloodlust and charred scent said otherwise.
Wrong answer, and Duke was ready for mutual destruction right there.
“I could only shake my head mutely.”
Peter learned the truth after fully healing Duke’s wounds.
In closed-door training, Duke nearly became a Golden Pill by his master.
Learning the Empire’s dirty secret, Duke dragged his master into the furnace and sealed the lid.
Boiling his master over a week, Duke barely crawled out.
Waiting were the 2nd and 3rd chief disciples.
Duke tried persuading them, but
— Senior brother, hogging the Golden Pill alone?
— Or think you can beat us in that state?
Like master, like disciples.
He boiled the brothers too, then slew pursuing juniors with his own hands.
In endless slaughter, Duke finally smashed the Bagua Furnace himself.
Burying himself in spilling metal, enduring flesh torn by shards,
he thoroughly destroyed it bare-handed in rage.
“When I heard the truth, I tossed that cursed invitation. A sage offering to make me a Golden Pill—who’d imagine such a secret.”
Peter had nearly turned someone precious into a Golden Pill unknowingly.
Rex covered his mouth, dry-heaving in revulsion.
Ari repeatedly wiped her dry face to hide turmoil.
Hana was nearly in tears, Jane clutched the wall dizzily.
But everyone there knew.
Duke had suffered far worse.
“We can’t presume to guess his feelings.”
Duke had proudly spoken of his master then.
Drunk, he boasted training under such a master,
and vowed to rise in realm like Peter, gain high title, and build a safe fief for the people.
Hana flinched hearing Duke’s dream.
It felt too familiar.
“For such a youth, who truly revered his master, to be betrayed—presuming to discuss it is insolence.”
And the fully healed Duke lost his former face forever.
“After that, he stopped coming for drinks. When I visited, annoyed, he was using the name Opfir.”
His humble, lively robes became armor modified from eastern robes,
and the face that smiled at his people was masked, declaring no more words.
— “Ah, you’re here, Peter.”
Blind Peter couldn’t see, but his attendant said so.
Behind the mask’s eyeholes, Opfir revealed crimson eyes with golden pupils.
Like a serpent’s gold eyes devouring all, or mad fire to burn the world.
Duke—or Opfir—greeted Peter arrogantly, robes flapping.
— “Look, old friend. True peace doesn’t exist. This rotten world’s atop only breeds hatred. One way to break the chains.”
Peter cowardly thanked his blindness then.
Meeting Opfir’s eyes would’ve ended their friendship.
— “Boiling master and brothers taught me. Power. Overwhelming power alone brings peace.”
And regretted.
Not stopping him, not joining, not defending the Empire, not punishing—just abandoning his duchy to wander.
— “Choose. Shatter the Empire with me, or stop me.”
Meanwhile, Dominique (Duke), eavesdropping via system.
‘Such tales carry weight when told by others.’
A character changed by past wounds resonates more than an innately solemn one.
That’s why Duke showed unglamorous side before Peter.
His decade-old scheme worked; Peter accepted Duke’s personality shift well.
But something Duke overlooked:
‘Peter felt that way then. Sorry.’
He’d unintentionally traumatized Peter.
No wonder Peter refused joining under Opfir and secluded himself.
But unlike Peter’s misunderstanding, Duke hadn’t become Opfir from true disappointment in his master.
(Though narratively, yes.)
He’d known the man’s nature before apprenticing; no expectations, no disappointment—a universal truth.
Boiling the master was all his plan.
The master thought Duke was 6th realm and tried making him a Golden Pill.
But before apprenticing, Duke’s first fortune was a manual perfectly concealing realm.
He grew hiding one sub-realm under master.
When master tried devouring 6th-realm Duke, he revealed 7th realm and jumped in together.
‘Damn old fart. Regeneration annoyingly good.’
Having eaten many Golden Pills, master regenerated fast even in the cauldron.
But Duke had a plan.
‘As some great man said: keep killing till it dies.’
Fire’s best against the undying, per unremembered sage.
From respect, he shoved master to hot bottom,
himself enduring cooler draft side.
Thus boiled master, then insolent brothers.
‘Finally, devoured the Primordial Flame.’
Little known, but Bagua Furnace’s secret was the fire, not cauldron.
The ember called Primordial Flame below.
Duke ‘ate’ it.
‘Nearly died for real from that.’
Burns too.
Installing a nuclear reactor in guts hurt till adapted.
But Primordial Flame’s effects were superb.
Duke, who struggled with psychokinesis from mana shortage, could use it freely after.
‘But... heroes seeking Bagua Furnace?’
Duke had destroyed it then.
Not physically, but eating the core ember effectively did.
‘Why that scrap?’
Without ember, just oversized smelter.
Still, as sage’s masterpiece, could make some alloys, rare metals—but not Golden Pills or Philosopher’s Stone.
‘Trying Emile Bells maybe.’
No Golden Pill from humans, but pure bells possible.
But Duke’s character wouldn’t let heroes boil people.
“Heh. Gotta stop ’em.”
Back to Dominique, he rose.
Pointless, but couldn’t ignore heroes pill-refining people.
Dominique smiled kindly and left the room.
Then—
Whoosh!
“Hm?”
Jane leapt into Dominique’s chest, burying her face.
“Lady?”
“You suffered then? I didn’t know.”
“?”
“Duke, Dominique, Opfir—doesn’t matter. I’ll follow you anytime. So...”
“Lady?”
“So, you don’t have to tell all, but... tell me when it’s hard.”
Dominique rolled his eyes.
How to clear this misunderstanding.
After brief thought, he patted her head.
“It’s fine. I forgot that era. My dream’s fulfilled now.”
Now kingdom’s second-in-command.
Not Providence Empire yet, but dream achieved.
Dominique smiled, peeling off the elf rubbing her face on his chest.
“Too many precious things now to cling to past.”
“Providence Kingdom?”
“That too, but...”
He patted her shoulder.
“You’re included.”
She stared, entranced.
Dominique left her.
‘Boss cherishing subordinates. Check.’
Second-in-command’s power stems from subordinates’ loyalty.
Lesson from Empire days: focused on screwing master, lost juniors’ hearts.
Duke wouldn’t repeat.
‘Wasted time stacking evil karma boiling them.’
So manage subordinates’ morale in spare moments to avoid repeats.
Dominique walked away satisfied.
Jane couldn’t tear eyes from the receding old butler’s back.
‘Camilla...’
She understood the foolish tigress who stayed loyal to the Black Dragon till end.