Just as he was about to go around, the door suddenly opened by itself.
Pen paused, suddenly finding himself attracted to something.
As if he were mesmerized, he unconsciously changed his direction and entered through the front door. He stumbled through the open doorway and nearly collapsed on the floor.
As he passed through the threshold, his body was overwhelmed by a sudden wave of pain. The poison had started to act up again, and he dropped to the ground, convulsing.
He strained his neck to look around, cautiously inspecting the surroundings while he fought against the pain. This was a habit that he had developed throughout his short life as a scavenger. He understood that one could never be too cautious, so even though he was suffering, he prioritized his surroundings.
This was a small store with only a few tables, and a large counter sat directly opposite to the front door. Unlit lanterns sat atop each table, and darkened displays lined each wall. Upon closer inspection, Pen was left with an unusual feeling. It was hard to put it into words, but he almost felt like this place was alive, like the darkness was beating with a biological rhythm.
Not far ahead, standing in the darkness, a young maid stood with two long ears rising above her head. Her arms were crossed over her belly, and her back stood straight. She wore a long black and white dress, and a little tail stuck out the back.
Despite her expression being unclear in the darkness, Pen still felt as if this woman was looking at him with an unusual kind of interest. She was not curious about him personally, instead, it was more like she was interested in why he was here...?
Before Pen had a chance to ask, the maid spoke first.
"Dear Customer, I welcome you. My master has been awaiting your arrival." She bowed her head, her long ears drooping with her bow.
Pen forced himself up, his legs still twitching.
He furrowed his brows, unsure of what the woman's words meant.
"Your master? I'm sorry, but I don't have any money."
He didn't want to get into trouble.
The Bunny Beastmen smiled. "Do not misunderstand, I was simply instructed to 'bring tonight's guest upstairs.' I don't care if you have any money."
Pen lowered his head. "Did you lead me here?"
The maid shook her head. "Don't misunderstand, I am a mere servant, it is not my place to do such a thing."
Pen furrowed his brows even further.
"Then, what does your master want with me?"
"Come, and you'll find out. Perhaps, like 'us', you'll have a chance to change your fate."
* * *
The next day, the competition resumed.
The day passed as usual, but something in an unseen place had started to slightly change. It started slow, like a small change in the direction of the wind, something that would normally go completely unnoticed.
That night, the first to find something off was the four-star alchemist.
He was patiently looking through the information on the winner's bracket, when suddenly, a small piece of paper slipped out from the side of the desk and fell to the ground.
He bent down to pick it up, scanning it with his eyes.
He furrowed his brows, wondering to himself how the information about the loser's bracket got mixed in with the rest. Before putting it away, he looked through it one last time, realising slightly too late that the winner of today's bracket was the young kid from the waiting room.
'Odd, can he even concoct a pill while poisoned with that thing?'
He had seen the Silent Lightning before, so he knew that it was incurable.
The pain was so unbearable that he shouldn't even be able to refine.
What a shame to lose such a good seedling.
He shook his head, then fixed the paper back in its correct pile, before throwing that thought to the back of his mind.
-
The next day, that silent wind became just a little bit stronger.
While staying unnoticed, Pen continued to win his way through the loser's bracket.
He had recovered from the poison, and now he had returned with a vengeance.
He had loved to create medicine ever since he was young, but life just seemed to always get in the way. Although he was just a scavenger now, alchemy was in his blood. Combining his innate talent with his iron will and unshakable heart, Pen had the potential to become a monstrous genius in the future.
He wouldn't forget what Petra had done for him, because she was the second benefactor who changed his life. Thinking of that, Pen thought back to that day, a little under a year ago, when a strange blond-haired girl had saved his sister from a local noble.
Now, he owed two people his life, and he would use everything he had to one day pay it back.
The competition continued.
The first week was completely filled with the names of dozens of famous prodigies, all of which had the potential to become great alchemists in the future.
Although naturally a slow process, the moment of anticipation when an alchemist opened the cauldron was like opening a treasure box, filling one with a unique sense of excitement each time. You never knew what you were going to get, whether the 'pull' was a success or a failure, if it was barely formed, or of a high quality. This kind of mysterious excitement fuelled the crowd, eliciting an uproarious cheer each time.
The announcer would roar with the crowd, hyping up each prodigy after every pill.
All the while, the silent rise of an unknown kid slowly brewed in the loser's bracket.
Another few days passed.
It wasn't until the reintegration of the losers bracket that people started to notice this underdog.
It was a mere glance at first, then another, and another. Soon, hundreds of eyes had all turned to this young boy from the slums.
This attention brought both the good and bad. Many looked at him with reverence, believing that if he could do it, then so could they, but many also found this kid from the slums an eyesore and an insult to their pride. For a boy with no background to surpass them, there was no greater offense.
Even Crossal, the boy who had poisoned Pen, found his face darkening despite being a spectator.
-
The days passed, each more exciting than the next.
When the competition finally came to an end, the appearance of Pen, a complete underdog, shook the city. Climbing from the losers bracket all the way up to first place, a completely unpredictable upset had shaken this year's alchemy competition to its core.
* * *
After the reward ceremony, Pen received his rewards and left the stage.
The long days had taken a toll on him, and all he wanted to do now was return to his sister and tell her the good news.
He left the central district with a bag full of money, a newfound title, and the right to represent the Solarin Castle in the upcoming Grand Gathering.
His footsteps were light, and Pen was in high spirits.
* * *
In another place, two figures were having a discussion.
While walking through the empty competition halls, the old woman, the 'Iron Reaper', and the four-star alchemist, Hitrit, were talking about Pen.
"You mean that the tower that sold you the yellow liquid also cured the boys poison?"
The elderly lady nodded. "Indeed, we had left a scout overseeing them just to be safe, but I would never have thought i'd hear such interesting news. Oh~ho~ho, my old bones, to think that there's a cure for Silent Lightning, If only it were sooner."
Hitrit pulled out the yellow vile from his pocket. "When you gave me this to test, I didn't think that it was that impressive. I look down on your alchemists, so I didn't find it strange that they couldn't appraise it." He rolled it in his hands. "It was only after a few tests that I realised what this was…"
"Oh? You know? Do tell!" The elderly lady chuckled.
Before Hitrit explained, he frowned and looked at the old woman.
He asked, "Have you ever been to the northern region?"
The old lady shook her head. "You know how we are. Although we're the 'northern gate', that doesn't mean that we have anything to do with the northern region. As the central districts district lord, I have even less freedom. I almost never leave the castle city."
"Hmm, that's what I thought."
He paused, before looking at the old woman with his cold gaze.
"Did you know that you were poisoned? It should be a slow-acting poison that's difficult to detect."
The old lady widened her eyes in anger. "Ha? What a joke! Don't you think I would know if I were poisoned!"
Hitrit sighed. "Indeed, you should know, but…"
"Hm! But what? Finish your sentence, before I pull out your tongue!" The old woman snorted.
"Don't threaten me, it's useless! Anyways, this is a cure for your poison, just drink it!" He tossed the yellow vile to the old woman, before disappearing with a step. He had things to do, and he didn't want to entertain this old fossil any longer.
The legendary Iron Reaper caught the yellow vile with shock on her face.
'Ha? Cure? Me…?'
* * *
On his way back to the slums, Pen was intercepted by a group of soldiers.
Crossal stood in the lead, followed by two Solarin nobles, and a group of law enforcers.
Crossal pointed, his vicious sneer directed at Pen. "It was him, the thief who stole my money pouch!"
Pens face darkened, gripping his winnings tightly. His mind turned, quickly thinking of a plan. He had underestimated the shamelessness of some people. He would have never guessed that on his way home, he would be intercepted by a 'highborn' and accused of stealing.
One of the enforcers approached, his iron-clad face indifferent.
Between a noble and a small scavenger, it was clear who he needed to help.
"Please hand over your bag for inspection."
Pen took a step back and arched his body, ready to escape.
Crossal sneered from behind.
Pen was barely a first realm cultivator, so it was impossible to escape from a normal guard, much less a city enforcer. Since he was caught, then it was already too late for him to run.
Pen pulled his bag behind him, then spoke. "I just won the alchemy competition in the central district, and these are my winnings, you can go and check!"
The enforcer paused, quickly scanning the dirt covered boy before him.
Although he didn't pay close attention to the competition, he refused to believe that such a weak brat could win without cheating.
He reached out, trying to grab Pen's arm.
Pen stepped back, his body moving surprisingly fast.
Since last night, he had noticed that his body had improved quite a lot. He was faster, stronger, and more agile, but this still wasn't enough to avoid capture.
The hand came again, this time clamping him by the neck.
Pen twisted, flailing his legs as he was lifted off the ground.
The enforcer violently shook him by the neck, leaving Pen dizzy and disoriented.
In desperation, Pen drew a small dagger from his sleeve and slashed it against the joint in the enforcer's armour. The blade sank in, eliciting a painful scream from the larger man.
Pen was dropped to the ground, his hand quickly covering his throat and fighting off a fit of coughing.
Knowing that he had to be quick, he kicked up a cloud of dirt, using his remaining momentum to stand back up and dash away.
He was quick, performing these actions in a few seconds.
Momentarily blinded, the enforcer roared, finally running out of patience. "Get him!"
* * *
The chase was short, allowing Pen very little time to escape.
He was eventually cornered in an alley after around ten minutes. Pen was caught by another two enforcers and dragged down by his arms. He was pressed against the ground, his face sinking into the filthy earth.
From the road appeared Crossal, an undisguised disgust flashing past his eyes.
"Check him. If he doesn't have the pouch, then bring him back. We can torture him."
"Why are you doing this! You know I won the competition! What did I ever do to you!" Pen roared as his head was pressed deeper into the mud.
Crossal looked down at him and wrinkled his nose.
"Garbage like you is not even worthy of being called human!"
He approached, leaned down, and pulled up Pen by the hair.
He whispered in a low voice, one that only allowed Pen and himself to hear it. "Also, I need to know how you dealt with my poison. I doubt that you'll tell me if I just ask, right?"
He let go, allowing Pen's head to fall back into the mud.
Crossal raised his boot, then stomped it down, smashing it against Pens unguarded head.
He turned to the enforcer and nodded.
"Bring him ba-"
At that moment, another figure suddenly appeared at the entrance of the alley.
The enforcers looked over, shock overwhelming them as they dropped Pen and stood up straight. They saluted. "Greetings, Lord Hitrit!"
Crossal looked at the blacked clothed alchemist that had appeared during the opening ceremony.
His face darkened.
Hitrit approached, his boots stepping heavily on the ground. He was cold and indifferent, his eyes sharp and unforgiving. His body smelled of medicine, and his aura caused one to feel cold.
He looked between Crossal, the enforcers, and Pen.
After a pause, he looked to the enforcers and asked. "Why have you arrested the winner of the Solarin Castle's alchemy competition for this year?"
The guards froze.
A chill ran down their spines.
One stuttered, and the other looked to Crossal for help.
Crossal remained silent, his lips pursed in annoyance. He didn't know this black clothed alchemist's background, but judging from the enforcer's response, it wasn't small. If looked at closely, one would find that Crossal was extremely irritated at the moment.
Hitrit asked again. "If this isn't a betrayal of the castle, then what is it?"
The two enforcers shook, finally understanding the severity of their actions.
One wanted to say something, but before he could, Crossal cut him off.
"I found these two attacking this year's winner on my way back. I apologise for my slow response."
He flicked his wrist, and a streak of light instantly decapitated the two enforcers.
Hitrit looked indifferent, but a small sneer flashed across his face.
"Then you may leave. I'll treat this young man's injuries."
Crossal nodded, reluctantly leaving.
As he disappeared, he looked back, a deep malice swimming in his gaze.
Hitrit helped Pen up, checking on his injuries. It was clear that he was uncomfortable touching other people, but he forced himself to help, nonetheless.
He asked, "How is your body?"
Pen struggled to answer, forcing out what few words he could. "I'll be fine, this isn't too bad."
Hitrit nodded. "You must have a tough life, right?"
Pen was silent.
"How about becoming my disciple?"
Pen paused, not understanding where this had come from. He looked over to Hitrit, but he couldn't see any signs of a joke on his face.
"Why?" He asked.
Hitrit thought for a moment, before answering.
"I came to the Solarin Castle this time to look for a disciple. I had my eyes on a few people, but you stood out. I didn't intend to ask you at first, after all… You should be dead." He looked deeply at Pen.
Pen lowered his head. He understood that Hitrit must have noticed the poison. "I was saved", he whispered in a weak voice.
Hitrit nodded.
"I know, but you don't seem to understand." Hitrit retrieved a small portrait from his bag. He held up a picture of Petra and asked, "Was it her who saved you?"
Pen looked at the portrait, before nodding.
"I accidentally stumbled into her shop a few days ago and she helped me."
Hitrit rubbed his chin, continuing to help Pen. "What did she ask for in return?"
Pen shook his head. "She didn't ask for anything."
"Mmm, did she explain what you were poisoned with?"
Pen shook his head again.
"You were poisoned with something called Silent Lightning. It's a deadly poison that's usually used to kill a target in the most painful way possible." He mumbled, before adding, "It's also incurable. A few years ago, one of the Solarin Castle's district lords died from this poison."
Pen looked up, his eyes still a bit unfocused. "You mean I'm not cured?"
Hitrit shook his head. "No, you're cured, and that's the problem."
Pen fell silent.
"You asked if I wanted to be your disciple… Does that only apply if I tell you about that person?"
Hitrit chuckled, "No, these are two separate things."
Pen fell silent again.
"If I become your disciple, can I take my little sister with me?"
Hitrit nodded.
Pen pondered, before deciding. "Then, I'll become your disciple!"
* * *
Over the past week, Pot had waited patiently.
When Pen finally returned with good news, she was ecstatic. When she learned that he had become the disciple of a four-star alchemist, she almost went crazy.
They packed up their few belongings, then readied themselves to leave.
On their way out, Pot asked to take a detour.
"Wait! Before we go, I want to check out a place!" Pot said.
-
Not long after, Pen, Pot, and Hitrit stood before an empty plot of land.
This was the place where Petras store had once stood.
What remained was only a barren plot, one that looked as if it had been abandoned for years.
When Pen and Pot arrived, they were both shocked.
Even Hitrit was somewhat stunned.
Where had the tower gone?
Didn't the old lady say that it had been here last night?
His mind turned back, and he thought of something that he had heard not too long ago, then his eyes flickered with the light of understanding.
"The tower is gone!" Cried Pen.
"How is that possible!?" exclaimed Pot.
Both children had their eyes redden.
Pen: 'I was too late again.'
Pot: 'I couldn't say goodbye to that little girl!'
AS they were feeling down, Hitrit suddenly spoke up.
"Don't be too sad, you may see it again."
The two turned to him, confused.
He explained, "It hasn't been here for long, but the old lady from the central district suspects that it's mobile."
Pen and Pot widened their eyes. "How is that possible?"
"There are a lot of magical things in this world, and if you want to see them again, then get stronger. With the calamities ramping up, it's only a matter of time until the strong gather." He rubbed his pocket, where a small sample of the yellow liquid was still stored. "That little girl, the one that helped you, I have no doubt that she's extraordinarily powerful. She'll definitely be waiting for you at the top."
The two nodded.
They clenched their fists, ready to fight for their futures.