C5 Black Armored Army

The ten Black Armored Army soldiers, carrying Wu Guang, galloped urgently to the residence of Yao Ling, the current Chief Alchemist of the Chu Dynasty. Upon arrival, they were halted by two doorkeepers.

"Identify yourselves."

"Without Yao Zun's consent, no one may enter."

The guards dismissed the soldiers' black armor with a brusque tone. Frustrated but in need, the soldiers replied humbly, "We serve under General Wu Guang and urgently request Yao Zun's aid to craft a Shadow Repelling Pill to save our general's life."

The doorkeepers, with furrowed brows, responded, "Yao Zun has sworn off pill crafting for others. You must leave."

As the doorkeepers moved to dismiss them, the soldiers fell to their knees, pleading loudly toward the mansion, "We implore Yao Zun to intervene and save our general's life!"

Their voices, persistent and overlapping, continued to resonate around the estate. The doorkeepers attempted to expel the ten men, but they remained resolute, unmoved by any attempt to disperse them.

After some time, activity stirred within. A golden sheet of paper soared out and hovered before the soldiers. A voice, tinged with raspiness, emanated from the mansion, "I've vowed not to craft pills for salvation, but your desperation to save your leader compels me to assist somewhat."

"This is the recipe for the Shadow Dispel Pill. Take it to Chen Mo; let him attempt the refinement. Success means General Wu's fate is not yet sealed. Failure, however, leaves me no further recourse."

With those words, the golden paper gently descended into the soldiers' grasp. Momentarily stunned, they then fervently bowed three times before departing with the recipe to seek out Chen Mo for one last endeavor.

By sheer coincidence, Chen Mo was just arriving from the Alchemist Union, intent on discussing Xuan Yi's situation with Yao Ling, when he encountered the ten individuals clutching the golden paper.

"President Chen!?" they exclaimed, their faces lighting up with hope. It was as if they had summoned him by merely speaking his name. And there he was.

Eagerly, they presented the golden paper to Chen Mo, then knelt down once more, pleading.

"This is the antidote needed to save our general. We implore you, President Chen, to assist us in its refinement."

Chen Mo accepted the paper and quickly assisted each of the ten to their feet, reassuring them.

"Please, there's no need for such formality. General Wu has earned his stripes with his valorous deeds for the Aibruba Kingdom. As for me, Chen Mo, refining a pill is but a small service. No need to plead."

With that, Chen Mo settled cross-legged on the ground, the golden paper in hand, examining it meticulously.

The ten members of the Black Armored Army watched with bated breath, their eyes fixed on Chen Mo.

Time ticked by, and Chen Mo's initially relaxed and confident demeanor shifted to one of intense concentration.

"President Chen, is it possible to refine this pill?" asked one of the soldiers, his voice tinged with concern upon reading Chen Mo's expression.

Chen Mo looked troubled, yet managed a tentative nod.

"We can give it a try... This is a ninth-grade pill. Given that I'm at the pinnacle of the eighth grade, there's still a sliver of hope."

"Moreover, successfully refining this pill could propel me to the ninth grade."

With those words, he flipped his hand, and a dark red cauldron materialized, hovering mid-air.

Chen Mo then proceeded to extract various rare herbs, methodically adding them to the cauldron.

"Two taels of Returning Grass, three taels of Heart Cleansing Ginseng..."

He recited the formula, and with a forceful gesture, a blaze of crimson fire burst forth, settling beneath the cauldron.

Chen Mo's arms danced through the air, expertly modulating the flame's intensity, demonstrating his mastery over the craft.

The refining process stretched on for a full day.

Chen Mo remained awake the entire time, his focus unwavering on the task of alchemy, even as his physical strength began to wane.

Sweat dripped from Chen Mo's forehead, each bead falling to the ground with a faint splash.

And so it went.

Two more hours slipped by.

Chen Mo was drenched in sweat, the floor beneath him soaked.

"Just a bit more..."

He gritted his teeth, determination etched in his features.

Suddenly, a wave of weakness washed over him, his hands trembling, the once vibrant flames now flickering weakly.

"Boom!"

A thunderous noise erupted from the cauldron, sending a jolt through Chen Mo's heart.

"Did it work?"

Completely spent, Chen Mo collapsed to the ground.

But his collapse was brief. He surged to his feet, strode over to the cauldron, and flung open the lid with a mix of hope and urgency.

The Black Armored Army watched on, their eyes filled with expectation.

But a charred stench wafted from the cauldron, deflating Chen Mo's spirits instantly.

Clearly, the boom wasn't the sound of success, but the disaster of a burst cauldron...

The precious medicinal ingredients were now nothing but charred fragments, utterly worthless.

Seeing Chen Mo's deflated expression, the Black Armored Army knew the outcome without a word.

"Could it be that the heavens are set on our general's downfall?!"

Mourning filled their hearts as they covered their faces and knelt, unable to rise for a long while.

With a heavy sigh, Chen Mo resigned himself to the setback. He gathered the cauldron and turned back toward the estate.

The doorkeepers stood aside, offering no resistance to Yao Ling's eldest disciple as he passed.

Chen Mo meandered past the pavilion, arriving at the door of Yao Ling's room. With a gentle push, the door swung open.

Inside, a distinguished man with hair touched by frost sat serenely on a cushion, his presence commanding yet tranquil.

It was Yao Ling himself.

"Greetings, Master," Chen Mo offered, bowing deeply.

"Stand," Yao Ling instructed, his voice calm.

Chen Mo rose, exhaling a weary breath.

"Master, was this truly necessary?"

"It was just a bet lost thirty years ago. Three decades have passed, and with your cultivation, you could live for centuries more. Besides, as the chief Alchemist of Aibruba, if you were to abandon pill concoction for life, could you still bear the title of chief?"

Yao Ling lifted his gaze and fixed it on Chen Mo.

It was at that moment Chen Mo recognized his blunder and hastily fell silent.

Perhaps it was the stir of emotion that nearly led Chen Mo to disrespect Yao Ling.

"I misspoke, Master. I humbly ask for your punishment."

Chen Mo knelt, his head bowed, too apprehensive to meet Yao Ling's eyes.

"A wager is a wager. I was defeated by that individual in the past, and so I shall refrain from engaging in the art of pill crafting."

"Now, go on. Should you bring this up again, do not hold it against me if I disregard our bond as master and disciple."

Yao Ling spoke with a wrathful tone, his presence commanding and intense.