Seo-jun placed his hand on the cauldron and closed his eyes. He extended his qi sense, and the inner workings of the cauldron became vividly clear in his mind.

The Five Elements formation was already ingrained in his memory. All he had to do was guide the energy inside the elixir with his internal power and trace the formation.

Normally, the process required precise timing, but Seo-jun didn’t concern himself with that.

The reason for timing was simple—if you didn’t follow the cycle of the Five Elements, the flow would become disrupted, leading to entirely different results. However, if you could control the flow itself, timing didn’t matter.

It was just that very few people could do that. That’s why most people had to follow the timing.

Seo-jun wasn’t most people.

Without worrying about timing, he swiftly traced the Five Elements formation. His pace was incomparable to others.

‘This is easy,’ Seo-jun thought, a slight smirk forming on his lips.

 

Namgung Yeongbo observed Seo-jun for a while before losing interest.

As expected, even though Seo-jun was renowned for his martial genius, Yeongbo wasn’t expecting him to succeed in alchemy. His hope was that Seo-jun might provide some insight or a fresh perspective on the process, potentially uncovering a breakthrough.

Simply put, he had hoped Seo-jun might ask a question like, “Why don’t you do it this way?” leading to some new realization about the method.

Martial arts and alchemy had little in common besides the manipulation of qi, after all.

‘I should finish what I was working on,’ Yeongbo thought, preparing to leave. But as he turned, he noticed something odd—Namgung Su-a’s hopeful expression and Chun-bong’s indifferent yet observant stare as they watched Seo-jun.

Intrigued by their contrasting reactions, Yeongbo stopped in his tracks.

‘Hmm, I might as well watch and take a little break,’ he thought, succumbing to the temptation of a rare moment of rest.

It wasn’t like taking a day or two off would change anything, and as the head of the Cheon-yak-dang, he figured he deserved the break. Besides, he reasoned, it wasn’t like anyone else could rest, but he was the head. If anyone had a problem with that, they could become the head themselves.

Pushing aside the nagging voice of conscience, Yeongbo relaxed, allowing himself to enjoy a rare, sweet respite.

 

Chun-bong, meanwhile, watched Seo-jun with a neutral expression.

She didn’t know much about alchemy. In fact, she had no idea what was going on at all.

But there was one thing she was sure of.

‘He’s working with qi?’

If that was the case, there was no need to question the outcome. She could say with absolute certainty that, unless it was something beyond comprehension, there was nothing Seo-jun couldn’t do with qi.

Seo-jun was the same guy who used to play games with internal energy back when he was at the Absolute Stage.

Too complex? If it didn’t involve manipulating the natural forces of heaven and earth, the idea that he couldn’t do it was more surprising.

Just then, Seo-jun opened his eyes and removed his hand from the cauldron.

“All done,” he said casually.

Seated on the floor, Namgung Yeongbo chuckled.

‘As expected, even a martial genius can’t succeed in this,’ he thought.

He hadn’t held out much hope, but there was still a faint trace of disappointment in his heart.

“It’s not easy, is it?” Yeongbo asked, rising to his feet.

“Uh... sure, I guess,” Seo-jun replied, scratching his head.

“Alchemy is quite different from martial arts. It’s perfectly normal for you not to be able to do it,” Yeongbo added, walking toward the cauldron, ready to offer some polite words to soften the blow for the Namgung Family’s young master.

But as he peered into the cauldron, his words trailed off.

“Oh... but this is...?”

The contents of the cauldron had begun to solidify. The mixture was compacting into a few perfectly shaped lumps, as it should when the process was completed successfully.

Yeongbo gulped.

“A-amazing. The way the ingredients are forming into pills on their own indicates the process was completed cleanly... uh...”

Why is it so flawless? It looks like a complete success.

Yeongbo’s mind raced.

‘There’s no way this could’ve succeeded...’

Alchemy, especially for something like the Cheonin Elixir, was extremely time-sensitive. Even a single second of mistiming would result in failure. Seo-jun, though, had finished far too quickly—only about a tenth of the time required. No matter how skilled someone was, rushing the process like that should’ve made success impossible.

‘Did he just finish the final steps neatly?’

Still in disbelief, Yeongbo picked up one of the pills.

It was smooth and glossy, and the smell was harmonious. It wasn’t too soft or too hard, and a faint blue hue shimmered along its surface.

Exactly how the Cheonin Elixir was supposed to look.

“What?”

Yeongbo’s hands began to tremble.

He quickly split the pill in half. The inside was just as perfect—uniform, with an incredibly delicate qi flow emanating from it.

“W-what...?”

His wide, trembling eyes turned to Seo-jun, who was looking back at him with a puzzled expression.

“Did I do something wrong?” Seo-jun asked.

“This... is this the Cheonin Elixir...?”

“Uh, yeah. Isn’t that what I was supposed to make?”

“Huh?”

“What?”

“Oh... oh my...”

Suddenly, Namgung Yeongbo froze in place.

Seo-jun, genuinely concerned, began to wonder if Yeongbo had finally lost his mind due to overwork.

It wouldn’t have been a far-off guess.

“Aaaaaah!!!”

Namgung Yeongbo let out a wild scream, jumping up and down in place.

Yang Song-baek, one of his subordinates, looked on in horror.

“Sir! Even if you’re going crazy, you still can’t take a break from work!”

“It’s vacation time!”

“Even if you’ve really gone insane, you can’t take a break!”

“Everyone, pack your things! We’re on vacation!”

“This is a disaster...”

Moments later, Yang Song-baek joined Yeongbo in bouncing up and down.

“V-vacation...!!”

Before long, the entire staff of Cheon-yak-dang was leaping for joy.

“Vacation! Vacation!!”

Seo-jun’s expression twisted in bewilderment as he watched the scene unfold.

“Sister... you sure you’re not working these people like slaves?”

“I don’t think so...?”

But slaves wouldn’t even be this happy to be freed...

Seo-jun was genuinely worried for them.

 

The newly liberated Namgung Yeongbo cried out, “I love you, young master!”

“I prefer women...” Seo-jun muttered.

“That’s fine with me!” Yeongbo replied with a broad grin.

“Wait, what?”

“I knew it! I should’ve asked for your advice from the beginning! It was all that fool Yang Song-baek who kept insisting it couldn’t be done!”

“Haha! Yes, it was all my fault, sir!” Yang Song-baek agreed enthusiastically.

As Seo-jun stared at the two, he asked, “But... doesn’t this mean the formula is still the same as before? So the situation hasn’t really changed, right?”

Silence.

The jubilant atmosphere came to a screeching halt.

Have you ever seen someone’s hopes shatter right in front of you?

Seo-jun had now.

The way their eyes glazed over and their once jubilant expressions fell was downright eerie. Even Seo-jun couldn’t hide his sympathy for them.

Quickly, Seo-jun added, “I think I can simplify the formula too.”

That day, Seo-jun became a god.

 

The process of creating the Cheonin Elixir was akin to sorcery.

It required the alchemist to balance the materials harmoniously while simultaneously using their internal energy to form a Five Elements formation within the elixir.

The complexity of the formation was staggering. The process involved drawing energy from the materials and positioning them in their respective places, binding them in a way that was almost impossible for a human to achieve.

Moreover, the formation had to be drawn at precise intervals; otherwise, the flow would be disrupted, resulting in failure.

Seo-jun had no such problem because he could control the flow directly. However, most people couldn’t do that.

So, Seo-jun simplified the process.

While maintaining the positioning of the Five Elements, he optimized the flow of energy between them.

Although precise timing was still necessary, the overall process was much simpler, making it far easier to complete than before.

Even so, the difficulty was still high enough that not even Namgung Yeongbo could confidently say he would succeed every time.

“Why can’t they do this?” Seo-jun wondered aloud, genuinely curious.

But pondering it wouldn’t solve the issue.

Drawing on his past experience, Seo-jun developed a martial art.

He named it "Cheonin-shin-dan-gong" (The Divine Pill Martial Art).

The name was thrown together casually—it wasn’t that important anyway.

Cheonin-shin-dan-gong was inspired by his Flash Lightning Thirteen Sword Thunder technique. In simple terms, it was a martial art designed to let others form the Cheonin Elixir’s Five Elements formation without needing to think. They just had to follow the steps mindlessly.

A week later, Namgung Yeongbo, his face glowing with joy, came to find Seo-jun.

“Haha! It worked, young master!” he exclaimed.

“Oh, does that mean it’s vacation time?”

“Indeed! I don’t plan on leaving my house for several months!”

Namgung Yeongbo was ecstatic, his grin widening as he continued.

“You’ve performed an incredible service, young master! I’ve informed the family head, so there will surely be a reward, and you’ll be the first to receive the Cheonin Elixir!”

“Oh, right. And the ingredients aren’t even that rare, right? So, can we start mass production now?” Seo-jun asked.

“That’s still difficult! The ingredients themselves aren’t rare, but the processing and treatment of them takes over seven years, so mass production isn’t feasible just yet.”

Still, there was plenty of prepared material left to make what was needed for now.

Once that was done, he’d truly be free.

‘Finally...!’

What had started as a bold declaration had grown into a project spanning ten years.

While it had been his own doing, Namgung Yeongbo now felt an overwhelming sense of liberation, as if he were floating on air.

“I may be on vacation, but if you ever need anything, just call for me, young master! Even if I’m in the middle of a bath, I’ll come running naked!”

“No, please wear clothes,” Seo-jun replied.

“Then I’ll put them on quickly and come!”

Yeongbo was ready to jump into a fire if Seo-jun asked him to.

Chuckling, Seo-jun asked a question that had just come to him.

“By the way, about the Cheonin Elixir. Can I make mine myself?”

“Of course! If it’s not too troublesome for you, go right ahead!”

“Really?”

“Yes! Let me know when you're ready, and I'll have everything prepared!”

With that, Seo-jun realized that something he had been contemplating might just be possible.

By twisting the Five Elements of the Cheonin Elixir, he could reverse the natural order. A reversal of the Five Elements, a defiance of the heavens.

Such an elixir would be called the Cheon-ma-shin-dan, or perhaps the Heavenly Demon Elixir.

If it worked as he envisioned, he might be able to use his Heaven-Reversing Sun and Moon Art more easily even in his normal state.

It could also be the first step toward something beyond the Supreme Stage or Demon Stage. Something entirely new, a path never traveled before.

Seo-jun’s mind raced with possibilities.

 

In the Namgung Family’s main hall, an older man glared coldly at Namgung Jin-cheon, the family head.

Jin-cheon, in return, showed no visible reaction to the piercing gaze.

Frowning at this, the older man raised his voice.

“Family head! Do my words not make sense to you? This act goes against the history of the Namgung Family and could call the legitimacy of the successor into question! How can you make such a decision on your own?”

“Uncle, is this really what’s important...?”

The man was Namgung Jin-cheon’s great-uncle, his grandfather’s brother.

Namgung Hyeok, Jin-cheon’s great-uncle, was baffled by the current situation.

Even he, a member of the direct line, hadn’t been able to master the Sovereign Sword Form. The fact that a direct descendant had done so was already shocking, but the idea that it had been taught to an outsider? It was unthinkable.

No one in their right mind would make such a decision.

“Then tell me, what is important?”

“Family... my family. Are you saying that martial arts are more important than family?” Jin-cheon replied calmly.

“Family! Of course it’s important! But that has nothing to do with the Sovereign Sword Form! You know that!”

“I don’t wish to continue arguing about this... but I’ll warn you once. Do not touch my family.”

“Family head!” Namgung Hyeok shouted, rising from his seat.

“So, what you’re saying is that I, Namgung Hyeok, am not your family? I see. Fine. We barely see each other, so I suppose I have no right to say anything. But to threaten your great-uncle with a warning like this? Are you saying you’ll cut me down if I interfere with your family?”

“If necessary...”

“Hah!”

Namgung Hyeok clenched his eyes shut before reopening them to glare at Jin-cheon.

“This will be my last warning. That son-in-law of yours is still an outsider. You will regret this.”

“There’s no way I will...”

Jin-cheon’s lips curled into a faint smile.

“My son-in-law’s contributions are no less than the Sovereign Sword Form itself. And if we think of the future, they are far greater...”

In terms of merit, there was more than enough justification.