William didn't lean forward in anticipation like the other students; instead, he slumped lazily back into his seat, resting his spine against the hard wood of the chair. He listened to the Class Master's lecture with the weary patience of a scholar forced to endure a toddler's explanation of the stars.
To him, the knowledge being dispensed wasn't just basic—it was fundamentally flawed, a collection of useless observations that had stagnated for centuries.
The Master was explaining the nuances of the Spirit Fire Potion. In this era, it was a highly sought-after concoction designed to enhance a cultivator's foundation. Its primary purpose was to stimulate the meridians, allowing a spirit master to increase their rate of energy absorption from the world, theoretically making them stronger over time.
In the eyes of the other disciples, the Spirit Fire Potion was a treasure. In William's eyes, it was trash.
