The old man's voice was hoarse. There was no warmth in it, but neither was there scorn—only the faintest trace of interest.

Liam didn't respond immediately. He was still adjusting. The spiritual fog had faded, but the imprint of its temptations lingered like embers in his soul. He could feel it—the subtle warping of thoughts that tried to twist desire into delusion.

"I'm here to join the Green Mountain Sect," he said at last.

"Mmmhm. And the mountain has already sensed your interest, which is why you are standing here. But tell me, kid, why alchemy? You seem to have several options in front of you. Why choose alchemy?"

Was this also a part of the test? Liam was thinking about what to say since he might get booted out based on his answer. "I want to strengthen my foundation, and I am pursuing alchemy because it is the root of all creation, the flow of essence, the harmony of opposites, the laws that shape everything from a drop of poison to a divine elixir."

The old man stared at him for a moment before breaking into an amused chuckle. "What a load of bullshit. Let's say you are already a part of the sect, and I have let you walk inside. Now tell me, why do you want to pursue alchemy?"

Liam paused a moment, and then he looked at the old man straight in his eyes and spoke. "Because I like it. It will give me the power I seek, and therefore I want it."

"Don't you like your other paths? Those would also give you the power you seek."

Liam smiled. It would be easier if he could say he had three priceless treasures that probably even this old man in front of him would kill to have, but he couldn't, so he simply shook his head. "I want them all."

The old man chewed thoughtfully on his spirit root and gave a quiet grunt. "Fine. Go inside."

Immediately, a simple gate appeared in front of him. Liam was surprised that their conversation ended abruptly, but he didn't care too much about it. He bowed and turned to leave when a voice boomed in his mind.

Sever the other paths.

The many veil the true.

Fragments cannot forge fate.

Offer the whole… or be forgotten.

Liam's mind shook as he heard the voice and the words, but when he turned around to look at the old man, he was no longer there.

The words still echoed in his skull, ancient and sharp, as if carved into the marrow of his thoughts.

"Hmmm. The myriad realms have not gone to shit. There are good seedlings all around." Liam heard the cauldron senior's voice now.

Liam waited to see if the senior would say anything else, but there was only silence. He stood for a moment and simply walked ahead. His choice might look foolish to others, but he knew what he was and what path he wanted to follow.

It might be a greedy, all-consuming path, and maybe giving it all up and choosing one might make his life easier. However, he was too stubborn to give up just yet.

Only someone who went through two lifetimes of utter helplessness and desperation would understand his need for strength and power. He was not ready to give it all up so easily.

Liam silently continued walking on the path, though all around him, nothing seemed to be changing. There were just trees and plants and a few herbs here and there, but nothing much was special about the place.

It was fine. He needed the time. Either the mist or the words from the old man made him slightly unsettled about his path. He did not like it. The walk helped. It helped to clear his mind and strengthen his resolve.

Liam walked for a long while, at least he felt it was long. But surprise, surprise, when his mind was somewhat settled, a new gate appeared in front of him. "What a mysterious sect." He was already liking this place. He smiled and walked in.

This time, a more familiar sight awaited him. Tall buildings etched with runes stood proudly under a clear blue sky. Stone walkways crisscrossed through tiered gardens and herbal groves, winding between bubbling cauldrons the size of carriages and towers shaped like furnaces. The scent of rare blossoms danced in the air.

Simple robed men and women quietly bustled through the space, their expressions can and focused. Just ahead, a plaque shimmered with golden script: Hall of Emberlight – Third Tier Initiates.

"So I am a third-tier initiate?" Liam smiled and walked into the huge building right next to the plaque. He assumed this was where everyone started, or at least the third tiers. He was not offended by such a grade. In fact, he welcomed the challenge to prove that old man wrong.

The Hall of Emberlight was quiet, its doors wide open and welcoming. Behind a semicircular stone desk sat a man who looked like he'd been born annoyed and had never grown out of it. He wore a dark-brown uniform robe marked with the insignia of the sect, a single leaf.

His hair was scraped back tightly, and his thin lips were permanently curled into something between a sneer and a yawn. He barely looked up when Liam entered.

"Name?" he asked, voice flat and clipped.

"Chang Xuan."

This was the name his parents had often said they wanted to give him, but in the end, they chose a mixed name instead. Liam decided to go with this one.

"Third-tier initiate?" the man asked with a faint smirk, finally glancing up as if just now confirming what he already assumed. "Figures. You new ones always come in like wide-eyed dreamers."

Liam was pretty sure that only third-tier initiates came this way, and the guy was acting as a world-class detective for no reason, but he let it go. This was still the first day. He needed to keep a low profile.

"Low-profile." He again repeated under his breath.

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