The garden pulsed with quiet life. Ten elemental herbs glowed faintly beneath the moonlight, their essences weaving together in a breath that was both storm and stillness. At the heart of it, the nest shimmered with runes, its cradle glowing faintly as chi gathered beneath.
Ling'er was the first to stir. Its small body twitched as strands of fire and wind essence brushed against its feathers. A faint red glow pulsed from its chest, mingling with the natural frost within. The falcon gave a restless chirp, wings fluttering even in sleep, as though its spirit was trying to leap upward into the sky.
Xue'er, sprawled with its wings half-open, was surrounded by sparks of lightning essence drawn toward it. Each spark crackled softly across its feathers, causing its talons to clench and unclench in rhythm. Its breath came quick, uneven, reckless — like a storm waiting to break.
Baiyun lay in perfect stillness, eyes closed, chest rising deep and steady. Around it, threads of shadow, light, and frost coiled together, weaving into a cocoon of balance. Its feathers glimmered faintly, not with chaos but with serenity, as though the garden itself had chosen to settle into it.
Haotian watched from the edge of the courtyard, his eyes unreadable, but within them flickered satisfaction. Good. Even in dreams, their bodies are answering the call.
He turned away, leaving the nest to its quiet glow, and walked into his alchemy chamber.
The room was small, but lined with shelves of jade boxes, spirit bottles, and mineral jars. The furnace in the center pulsed faintly, the flames within awaiting his will. Haotian placed his hands behind his back, gazing down at the herbs he had gathered — one of each element, and a handful of rare supplementary herbs to support their merging.
"I can make them pills," he murmured. "But if I refine in the old way… with so many elements, the chance of failure is almost certain."
The thought pressed heavy on him. Ingredients of this quality were limited. He could not afford to waste even one. Each was rare, precious — even more so in Drakareth.
What if I used formations inside the cauldron? he wondered. Runes to stabilize the balance, to hold the essences apart until the right moment…?
But he shook his head. "No… the timing of each herb's refining will vary. Some burn in moments, others take hours. Force won't solve this."
His brow furrowed. He thought deeper. Back to the roots…
In alchemy, every pill began the same way: herbs burned, melted, their essence separated from their shell. But burning destroyed much before it refined. It was crude. Wasteful.
Haotian picked up a single herb, holding it between two fingers. The veins of its leaves pulsed faintly with life.
He narrowed his gaze. The air shimmered faintly as golden light flickered across his eyes.
The Eyes of the Universe opened.
At once, the herb was no longer just a stem and leaf. It became a map. Tiny glowing lines pulsed within, flowing in curves and channels like meridians within a body. Each carried the herb's essence. Some glowed bright and strong. Others faint, hidden.
Haotian's breath stilled. "So this… is the essence itself."
He reached for another herb, one of wind. Its essence lines were different — finer, quicker, flowing in sharp angles. But faint, fading quickly compared to the first.
A theory formed in his mind. If I can extract these lines directly… then I don't need to burn anything away. No smoke, no waste. Pure essence.
His hand rose. Fingers folded into a seal. Chi pulsed outward, forming a small glowing formation across his palm.
The herb quivered. Its essence lines flickered — and then, one by one, they pulled free. A glowing stream of liquid light emerged, rising into the air above his palm. The herb itself withered instantly, collapsing into ash. But the essence — pure, perfect — hovered as a luminous droplet.
Haotian guided it into a jade bottle.
He tried again. Another herb, another extraction. This one slower, weaker, but still success.
One by one, he worked through the herbs, filling bottles with liquid essence, each glowing with its unique element. Fire shone crimson. Frost gleamed pale-blue. Lightning crackled silver. Shadow seeped violet-black. Light shimmered gold. Wind swirled jade-green. Earth pulsed dark-brown. Wood glowed emerald. Void gleamed faint violet. Time barely shimmered, its glow so faint it seemed almost transparent.
Haotian lined them before him, ten bottles of essence. Each pure. Each 100% untainted. His eyes glinted with rare satisfaction. "No need for purification. No need for waste. I can merge them as they are."
He lit the cauldron. Flames rose, steady and controlled. He poured in the essences, one by one, his chi guiding their flow. At first, they resisted, clashing violently, fire against frost, shadow against light. But Haotian's hand seals moved swiftly, balancing them, invoking yin and yang, stabilizing the whole with the principle of equalization.
The cauldron shook. He inscribed runes directly into the flames, weaving stability into the process. The essences spun, merged, separated, then merged again. Slowly, resistance gave way to resonance.
Light poured upward from the furnace. Within, the essences swirled into a sphere. Black and white split across its surface, yin and yang, yet within each pole flickered the colors of all ten elements.
Haotian's eyes narrowed. He traced one final rune into the air and pressed it down into the forming pill. The rune sank, imprinting itself into the sphere.
The furnace stilled.
He lifted the lid.
Inside lay a single pill — smooth, flawless, gleaming like a yin-yang orb. One side white, one side black, yet both shimmered with hidden colors that shifted and flowed.
Haotian plucked it free, holding it between his fingers. "Ten Element Essence Pill," he named it quietly. "A replacement for feed — marrow refining, chi tempering, body strengthening. Perfect for beasts that must grow beyond their limits."
He slipped it into a jade bottle, sealing it carefully.
Then he stood in silence, the pill heavy in his hand despite its size. His brows furrowed faintly.
"…But one is not enough. I must find a way to make batches."
His gaze returned to the herbs, the runes, the cauldron still glowing faintly. The thought pressed heavier with every breath. A new method… for mass refinement.
Behind him, the garden pulsed. The three falcons slept in the nest, their bodies shimmering faintly with threads of multicolored light. Their first night under the Ten Elements had begun.
And Haotian, in his lab, had just rewritten the art of alchemy.
The jade bottle in Haotian's hand felt heavier than stone. Inside rested the first Ten Element Essence Pill, a flawless yin-yang sphere shimmering faintly with all colors of the elements. It was a triumph, but as he stared at it, his brows furrowed.
Why did I even need the cauldron at all?
He set the bottle aside and folded his arms, pacing slowly around the alchemy lab. His gaze returned to the furnace, its surface still glowing faintly from use. "At this stage… what is the cauldron but a container? It refines impurities, but my new method extracts pure essence without residue. It stabilizes the merging, but I can already form and balance essences myself. Flames? Fire only burns to break open what I've already opened."
His eyes narrowed, golden light flickering faintly across them. Then if I can extract the essences directly… why not merge them directly as well?
The thought burned in his chest. It was audacious. Unorthodox. But it was his way — not following the paths of those before him, but creating his own.
"Let's give it a shot."
Haotian returned to the table. Before him lay fresh herbs of ten elements, carefully chosen and measured. Ratios calculated. Balances exact. He raised both hands slowly above them, one hand open, one forming a seal.
His right hand opened, fingers curling slightly. Threads of chi extended like invisible needles, piercing the herbs. One by one, their essence lines lit and drew outward. Streams of glowing liquid rose into the air, each a different color, each flowing into his palm. Fire crimson, frost silver-blue, lightning silver, wood green, earth brown, wind jade, shadow violet, light gold, void dark-violet, time faint and translucent.
His left hand moved in quick seals, shaping a chi-gathering array mid-air. Sigils formed, surrounding the cluster of essences, stabilizing them, drawing ambient chi into the sphere.
The essences hovered in his palm, weaving together. Normally, this was where chaos erupted — elements clashing, repelling one another. But Haotian's balance was flawless. His chi guided them, yin and yang, push and pull, until the sphere grew larger, more luminous.
To his surprise, it did not resist. It did not threaten to break apart. It pulsed steadily, harmonized, like a living sun in miniature.
Haotian's eyes sharpened. "Stable… even without the cauldron."
He studied the sphere. Its size was immense, overflowing with energy. A thought crossed him: This amount could make dozens.
His will moved. The sphere rippled — and then split. Once, twice, over and over. Smaller spheres budded off, equal in shape and stability, until forty-seven perfect orbs hovered before him, suspended in the array's glow.
Haotian raised two fingers to his lips, closing his eyes briefly. His breath steadied. "Next… inscription."
His fingers traced sigils in the air, one after another, faster and faster. Runes flowed from his fingertips like threads of light, weaving into the spheres. Each orb shimmered, yin-yang halves solidifying, white and black swirling together, elemental hues flickering faintly within.
One rune. Ten runes. Dozens. The air filled with light as Haotian inscribed without pause, his control absolute. Each sphere accepted the inscriptions without resistance, as though they had been waiting for them.
When his fingers stilled, the lab glowed with brilliance.
Before him floated forty-seven pills, each one flawless. Yin and yang, black and white spheres shimmering with hidden elemental veins, perfect replicas of his first pill — but finer, smoother, carrying even greater balance.
Haotian lowered his hands slowly, exhaling. His eyes glinted, a rare light flashing within them.
"Success."
The pills descended gently into jade bottles as he willed, forty-seven in all. He held one up, inspecting it closely. The surface was flawless, its resonance more stable than any pill formed in a furnace.
"All at greater perfection than before," he murmured.
He turned his gaze back to the furnace. The once-necessary tool now seemed… primitive. Limited.
"At this level… I've stepped beyond the furnace. Beyond fire. Beyond what alchemy was meant to be."
The room fell silent, save for the faint hum of the pills. Outside, the garden pulsed, and the falcons slept in the nest at its heart, their bodies shimmering faintly with threads of multicolored light.
Haotian placed the last jade bottle on the shelf, his voice low, a whisper meant only for himself.
"From today… a new path of alchemy begins."
The first rays of dawn spilled across the Zhenlong courtyard, glinting off frost that shimmered like powdered silver. The garden pulsed faintly with its own rhythm, herbs swaying despite the still air, runes glowing softly as elemental essences circulated through the array.
At the center, the nest stirred.
Ling'er was the first to rise, shaking its small body with a sharp cry. Frost mist burst outward from its feathers — but not only frost. Faint sparks of red flame flickered along its wings, heat crackling for the briefest moment before subsiding into its natural chill. Its chest pulsed with fire and frost intertwined, unstable yet undeniable.
Xue'er rolled onto its talons, wings beating hard, sending gusts spiraling around the nest. Sparks of lightning cracked across its feathers, arcing into the air before fading. Its breath came quick, almost reckless, as though its spirit could no longer remain contained in such a small body. The air around it vibrated with storm-like energy.
Baiyun rose last, stretching its wings in silence. Around it, the nest glowed faintly, runes bending in harmony as shadow and light converged upon its body. Faint glimmers of golden sheen ran across its feathers, overlaid by translucent violet threads. It did not stir the air violently like the others — but the space around it felt heavier, more controlled, as though the elements themselves had bent to its presence.
Haotian stood at the edge of the garden, arms folded, watching. His eyes glowed faintly with the golden shimmer of the Eyes of the Universe, tracking each shift within their veins.
Ling'er — frost and flame, clashing but pushing growth. Xue'er — storm and wind, wild but promising speed. Baiyun — balance of shadow and light, steady as marrow. Already, the changes are visible after one night.
The three falcons cried together, their voices sharper than the day before, carrying farther. The nest's runes flared in response, feeding their bodies more chi. Their small chests heaved with excitement, as though they themselves felt the surge of power within.
Haotian let the moment linger, then turned away, entering his alchemy chamber.
On the central table sat a row of jade bottles. Forty-seven pills — yin-yang spheres shimmering faintly with all ten elemental hues. They pulsed softly, alive with balance and contradiction.
Haotian picked one up between his fingers, turning it in the light.
The Beyond-Furnace method works. Pure essence, merged without flame. No impurities. No wasted strength.
He tapped the pill lightly. The surface resonated in his hand, yin and yang spinning as though breathing.
His gaze shifted back toward the garden, where Ling'er, Xue'er, and Baiyun now tested their wings within the nest, each cry stronger than the last.
If one of these pills were given now… their chi, their marrow, their bodies would advance in leaps. But the question is — will they endure harmony as easily as they did contradiction?
He set the pill down, then picked it up again, brows furrowing in thought.
For cultivators, pills accelerated paths already chosen. For beasts, however, pills could alter bloodline, shape marrow, and redefine instincts. The falcons were already reshaping under the nest's flow. To add the pill now could either solidify their tenfold path… or strain their young frames too early.
Haotian's eyes narrowed, weighing risk and opportunity.
Ling'er's sharp cry rang out, fierce and defiant, its wings sparking with frost and flame.Xue'er's screech split the air, lightning crackling as its body blurred in sudden motion.Baiyun remained silent, wings half-folded, a calm aura spreading like mist, steady as stone.
Haotian let out a slow breath. His hand closed over the pill.
"…Perhaps it is time to test."
The falcons froze, as though sensing the weight of his voice. Their eyes turned toward him, sapphire irises gleaming, each in their own manner — Ling'er bright and restless, Xue'er burning with reckless hunger, Baiyun silent but resolute.
Haotian's lips curved faintly. "Then let us see if heaven's rules bend for you, as they once did for me."
The Beyond-Furnace pill gleamed in his hand, yin and yang halves swirling with hidden color, as dawn broke fully across the courtyard.
The test was about to begin.
The morning light spilled across the Zhenlong courtyard like silver dust. The elemental garden pulsed softly, each herb glowing faintly, ten breaths of chi weaving in balance through the formation. At the center, the nest shimmered.
The three falcons stirred.
Ling'er rose first, feathers ruffling — and Haotian's eyes narrowed. Its plumage, once pale frost, now shimmered faintly with streaks of red, green, and silver, as though threads of flame, wind, and lightning had stitched themselves into its icy down. When it beat its wings, rainbow glimmers rippled faintly across them, unstable but radiant.
Xue'er followed, hopping upright and giving a sharp screech. Lightning crackled across its feathers, but instead of vanishing, the sparks refracted into shimmering colors. Each wingbeat cast arcs of light, flickers of gold and blue mingling with its natural frost. Its body seemed restless, unstable, but undeniably transformed.
Then Baiyun stood.
Its feathers glowed resplendent — rainbow plumage shimmering in dawn light, each color flowing seamlessly into the next, as though it wore the sky itself upon its wings. On its chest, faintly glowing through the sheen of feathers, was a mark unlike any other: a yin-yang circle, black and white intertwined, flickering softly with hidden hues.
Haotian's gaze sharpened. The mark of harmony itself…
The three cried together, but Baiyun's call shook the air. Deeper, stronger, resonant. The yin-yang mark pulsed, and the rainbow colors along its wings seemed to bend the garden's chi toward it.
Haotian raised his hand, and in his palm a pill spun faintly: the Primordial Harmony Pill. Yin and yang swirled across its surface, reflecting the very mark Baiyun now bore.
"Only one of you is ready," Haotian said calmly. His gaze shifted. Ling'er trembled, too unstable. Xue'er sparked recklessly, too wild. But Baiyun stood silent, rainbow feathers gleaming, yin-yang symbol pulsing faintly like a second heart.
"Baiyun… step forward."
The falcon obeyed.
It took the pill without hesitation. The moment it swallowed, the yin-yang mark on its chest flared, glowing brighter. Rainbow light exploded across its wings, each element shining in turn — frost, flame, wind, lightning, shadow, light, earth, wood, void, and time — before merging into a harmonious glow.
The falcon's cry split the courtyard. The rainbow sheen along its feathers stabilized, becoming smoother, more radiant. Its wings beat once, and the air bent in concentric ripples, not of a single element but of ten woven together.
Haotian's lips curved faintly. "Perfect."
Ling'er and Xue'er shrieked in protest, flapping their own rainbow-tinged wings, but their chests remained bare, no yin-yang mark yet forming.
"Patience," Haotian said. His tone was firm, unyielding. "Your time will come. The nest will forge you until you are ready. But Baiyun has taken the first step."
Baiyun landed before him, head bowed slightly, rainbow feathers still shimmering. The yin-yang circle pulsed once, then dimmed, settling into its chest like a seal of destiny.
Haotian looked down at it, his eyes sharp, voice low.
"From this day forward, you are no longer Frost Falcons. You are the children of harmony — wings born to carry the sky's ten elements."
Above them, the morning frost winds carried their cries, not as simple birds, but as sovereign heirs of a path never before seen.