I ran into the stables, rushing through the broken-down doors and past my skittish horses looking half-ready to bolt. If it weren't for the absurdly tough bamboo doors holding them, it was likely they would've escaped and never looked back. Elder Wen wouldn't have been happy with that.

 

At the corner where my carriage lay, I hurriedly ran through the crates. My body moved faster than my head, sifting through the boxes and bags before I finally came upon the one I was looking for. A non-descript crate, but once opened, filled to the brim with slightly glowing vials of potions.

 

But the sound of sniffling caught my attention.

 

In the dim light seeping through the slatted woodwork, my eyes adjusted to the dim stable interior, the sniffling growing louder. Pushed against a mound of hay and attempting to squeeze himself into the narrowest space between the wall and a hay bale was the innkeeper's son.

 

His usually bright eyes were overshadowed by fear, casting wary glances at the stable's cracked wooden door. His small body trembled each time a thunderous roar resonated from outside, a testament to the fierce battle between the cultivators and the Wind Serpents. He clutched a broken broom handle, his knuckles pale and strained from the tight grip.

 

Slowly, I closed the distance between us. "Hey, it's just me," I reassured him, keeping my voice low and soothing. At the sound of my voice, the boy's terrified gaze fixed onto me. It was almost as if he was seeing a ghost, or perhaps a man who'd been tossed around like a ragdoll by a Wind Serpent not too long ago.

 

I held up my hands in a non-threatening manner, hoping to ease his fear. "I need you to come with me. It's safer." My voice trailed off, as another monstrous roar shook the wooden walls of the stable.

 

The boy looked at me, his lip trembling, "But the... the monsters," he stammered, the words barely a whisper.

 

I couldn't blame him. The reality of our predicament was terrifying, even for me. But there was no choice. We needed to move to a safer place. His fear was real, as real as the colossal serpents wreaking havoc outside. However, I couldn't afford to let it paralyze him.

 

I let out a nervous chuckle, attempting to bring a little levity to the situation. "Those aren't monsters. They're...oversized reptiles!"

 

He blinked at me, a hint of incredulity washing over his fear-stricken face. It was enough to coax a smile from me.

 

"And do you know what the best part is?" I continued, my voice a soft murmur against the chaos outside. "Oversized reptiles are actually scared of humans. Little known fact."

 

"But... but I saw one fling you," the boy managed, a shaky finger pointing at me.

 

"Ah, well, you see," I paused, feigning thoughtfulness. "That was... a game we cultivators like to play. 'Toss the Human.' Thrilling, isn't it?"

 

The boy stared at me, his expression wavering between disbelief and desperate hope. After what felt like an eternity, a faint giggle bubbled from his lips. "You're funny."

 

I extended my hand to him, a silent pledge. "Then, let's make a run for it. Trust me, okay?"

 

Slowly, he untangled himself from his hiding place, his small hand slipping into mine. A gust of wind rattled the stable doors, the ongoing battle reminding us of the perils outside. We snuck back out, making sure to stay away from the thick of the battlefield. He refused to look in that direction, clinging to my hand as hard as he could. My other hand had an iron-grip on my staff, as I periodically checked over my shoulder to confirm none of the Wind Serpents locked onto us.

 

The battle was seemingly at a stalemate, but I knew it couldn't go on. Feng Wu and Xu Ziqing were faring better in their battle against the half-blind Wind Serpent, but the third-class disciples were being steadily worn down by the snake's evasive maneuvers and lightning-fast strikes. Death by a thousand cuts. They wouldn't last long against the Wind Serpent like this.

 

"Go back and stay with your family, alright? Don't go out until we say so."

 

The boy nodded. He thanked me quietly before scampering off into the inn we were staying at, far away from the dangers of battle. I turned on my heel and immediately ran back to the stables.

 

An impossibly loud noise as scale met flesh occurred, and I could see someone being flung into the building where my carriage resided. Wood splintered under the force, sending the person sprawling deep into the stable. I rushed forward and called out in concern.

 

"Hey! Are you alright?"

 

From the rubble, Xu Ziqing rose. His head was bleeding, but he looked more angry than hurt. Spitting blood from his mouth in a lackadaisical fashion, he turned his sharp eyes towards me but didn't say anything. His eyes gravitated towards the battle Feng Wu fought as he circled around the serpent.

 

"Oi! Azure Moon Marauder!" I rummaged through my pack, finding the bottle I needed. I threw it at him and he caught it with ease. A golden yellow and orange liquid swirled around in the vial. "Drink! It'll recover your stamina."

 

He stared at me for a brief moment, opening the Invigorating Dawn Tonic and smelling it as if to confirm the item wasn't poisonous. How rude! If I truly wanted to, I could have him on the floor within seconds. Xu Ziqing drank after a moment's hesitation.

 

His initial reaction to the tonic wasn't immediately obvious. He continued to hold the vial to his lips, the liquid going down his throat in slow, purposeful gulps. Then, a change swept over his countenance, subtle yet noticeable. His eyebrows knitted closer together, the tiny creases on his forehead smoothed, the sharpness in his gaze tempered into something less fierce.

 

It was as if a breath of spring had swept through his worn-out body, melting away the winter's ice. There was a slight rosiness to his pale cheeks now, and I could see his breathing gradually return to its regular pace. His shoulders, previously slumped from fatigue, seemed to rise as if a heavy weight had been lifted off.

 

As he finished the last of the tonic, Xu Ziqing swirled the vial around, his eyes fixated on the final drops that clung to the glass. It was a curious look, the type of expression one had when they couldn't quite believe what they'd just experienced. A slight smirk pulled at the corners of his lips, but it faded as quickly as it had appeared.

 

He stood straighter, a renewed vitality radiating from him. The fatigue had washed away, replaced by an underlying strength that wasn't there before. It wasn't a miraculous transformation, but it was noticeable enough to make a difference in the upcoming fight.

 

Xu Ziqing looked at me, his icy eyes softening for a fleeting second. A nod, the tiniest dip of his head, was the only acknowledgment he gave me. He didn't say anything, but the look in his eyes spoke volumes. It was a look that acknowledged me, a look that no longer dismissed me as a mere alchemist in the middle of a cultivators' world.

 

I'll show them! I'm a cultivator, through and through!

 

Without another word, Xu Ziqing turned around, heading back towards the battle. The moonlight filtered through the debris of the destroyed stable. It made his silhouette seem larger, sturdier, a stark contrast to the wounded man who'd been flung into the building just moments ago.

 

As Xu Ziqing returned to the battlefield with a new vigor, I pivoted and made my way back into the rubble of the stables, my eyes scanning the rubble for the familiar glint of my potion vials. My staff was set aside for the moment; its familiar weight and balance replaced by the delicate coolness of glass and the promise of aid it held.

 

The Invigorating Dawn Tonic, with its soft glow of orange and gold, was easy to find. I gathered as many vials as I could hold. Alongside them, I gathered the Goji Clarity Potion, its deep red liquid swirling ominously but the energy within held the promise of a sharpened mind.

 

They were meant to be for my shipment to the Azure Silk Trading Company, but no amount of gold would make me put others at risk.

 

Armed with my makeshift arsenal, I turned my gaze back towards the battlefield. The scene was grim. The fight had split into two distinct factions with the serpent separated from each other. However, the twelve third-class disciples of the Silent Moon Sect were not faring well against their adversary. Their attempts to control and damage the Wind Serpent were failing, their movements becoming sluggish, and their coordination dwindling.

 

I approached them as quickly as I could, the clinking vials in my hands a lifeline I was desperate to throw. As I neared them, I held up a vial of the Invigorating Dawn Tonic and shouted over the chaos, "Take this! It will renew your strength!"

 

The desperation in their eyes reflected the dire state of the situation. One of them, a burly man whose robes were soaked with sweat and grime, snatched the vial from me without a word. He downed the liquid in one gulp, his eyes never leaving the Wind Serpent in front of him.

 

As the tonic took effect, I could see the change in him. His sagging shoulders straightened, the tiredness in his eyes replaced with a new spark, his movements became more fluid. The other disciples watched this transformation with wide eyes, their initial skepticism replaced with hope.

 

Knowing I couldn't afford to waste the remaining vials, I quickly assessed the other disciples. Relying on my knowledge of medicine and human physiology, I looked for signs of fatigue, injury, and stress. I singled out the ones who were most in need - the ones whose breathing was erratic, whose movements were stiff, and whose eyes held the glaze of exhaustion.

 

I passed them the Invigorating Dawn Tonic first. As they consumed it and their vitality visibly improved, I turned my attention to the Goji Clarity Potion. My experience with combat strategy told me that those in strategic roles or those whose abilities required precise control would benefit the most from increased focus. Selectively, I handed out the red elixir.

 

Their initial hesitation turned to gratitude as the effects of the potions kicked in. Rejuvenated and refocused, they readjusted their formation, making sure their newly regained strength was utilized effectively.

 

"Feng Wu!" I cried out, calling to the second-class disciple as he backstepped away from the Wind Serpent's attacks. His robe was torn in several places, and he held a determined look on his face as he held the bladed fan in his hand. His eyes turned for a fraction of a second, seeing the red potion sailing through the air. It didn't take long for him to dash forward and catch it.

 

Opening the vial in one smooth motion and consuming it, he stepped backward and parried powerful gusts of wind generated by the Spirit Beast. Xu Ziqing took its attention with a powerful blow to its tail, leaving a deep gouge and destroying several scales in the process.

 

Feng Wu dropped the vial onto the floor and moved forward, pressuring the Wind Serpent even more as it fought against the two renewed second-class disciples.

 

As the battle raged on, the effects of my potions became increasingly evident. The tide seemed to be turning in our favor. Where once stood tired and battered cultivators, now stood rejuvenated warriors. Their movements were quicker, more precise; their eyes held a renewed determination, their attacks coordinated and relentless. They moved as a unit, each member in tune with the other. The battlefield was filled with an unyielding spirit, and even the raging Wind Serpents were not immune to this shift.

Xu Ziqing and Feng Wu pressed on, their every strike a testament to the power of my potions. The Invigorating Dawn Tonic and Goji Clarity Potion worked wonders in their bodies, boosting their physical stamina and enhancing their mental acuity respectively. Their attacks were relentless, pushing back the tiring Wind Serpent with every stroke.

 

Yet, the Wind Serpents were not going down without a fight. They roared and hissed, their bodies coiling and uncoiling as they moved to strike at their tormentors. But even I could see that their movements were growing sluggish, their attacks less fierce. The strain of the prolonged battle was beginning to wear on them.

 

A flicker of hope bubbled up within me. Could we really turn this around? Could we drive these monstrosities away?

 

But we weren't there yet, and I knew better than to let my guard down. My gaze drifted back to my remaining supply of potions. There weren't many left, but if I allocated them properly, it might just be enough to see us through.

 

I analyzed the battlefield once more. There was still work to be done, and it was time for the second round of my potions. I'd need to-

 

"LOOK OUT!"

 

The warning cry, drenched in urgency, echoed through the din of the battlefield. But it was a fraction too late. Before I could turn, an immense force blindsided me, catching me completely unprepared. It felt like being struck by a charging ox, the impact lifting me off my feet.

 

The world spun as I was sent hurtling through the air, the violent expulsion tearing the breath from my lungs. The agony that exploded along my side was so intense, it bordered on numbing. I had no sense of direction, no control over my trajectory. I was acutely aware of a series of sharp cracks resounding within me. My ribs. Without the reinforcement from the Rooted Banyan Stance, I took on the full brunt of the Wind Serpent's attack.

 

My flight ended with an abrupt, jarring impact against a solid wall, the force enough to leave an imprint of my body in the weathered wood of the inn's exterior. The blow stole any remaining breath, and bright spots danced in my vision as pain erupted anew, sharper and more insistent than before.

 

I slumped to the ground, disoriented and gasping for breath. My hands moved instinctively to clutch my side, fingers probing tenderly around the epicenter of my pain. Even the slightest pressure elicited a wave of agony so intense it had me doubling over, a strangled gasp tearing from my throat.

 

Through the haze of pain, I heard the familiar hiss of the Wind Serpent, the ground trembling beneath its power. A collective shout went up from the disciples, the urgency in their voices echoing the pounding of my heart.

 

They were too far, too embroiled in their own battles to reach me in time. I was a sitting duck, and the serpent was closing in.

 

Would this be my final moment?

 

Ah, damn it all. Just when things started looking up for me...

 

Just as the inevitability of my fate began to settle in, two figures appeared in my blurred vision, their approach hurried and frantic. The innkeeper and his son, the same boy who I had saved minutes earlier, came charging towards me.

 

Rough but gentle hands gripped my shoulders, pulling me back and away from the approaching danger. My vision swam as my body protested the sudden movement, but the urgency in their actions offered no room for reprieve.

 

As they dragged me to safety, I could hear the disciples engaging the Wind Serpent, their shouts and the clashing of their weapons a stark contrast to the pounding in my ears. Each breath was an uphill battle, a laborious task that did nothing to quell the fire burning in my side.

 

This was primal, a sort of pain that transcended the physical and seeped into the very marrow of my being. This was the kind of pain that could shatter one's spirit, and for a moment, I feared it might have done just that.

 

The world around me was a chaos of sounds and blurry sights. Shouts echoed in my ears, sometimes drowned by the roar of the Wind Serpents. The clash of metal against scales provided an uneven rhythm, the intensity of the fight ebbing and flowing. I was on the sidelines now, a mere observer watching the shadowy figures as they danced the deadly dance.

 

Hands worked on my battered body, but the sensations felt distant, muffled by the all-consuming agony. The innkeeper was trying his best, his brows furrowed in deep concentration. He was no healer, no cultivator, yet the urgency of the situation had thrust the mantle of a caretaker upon him.

 

His son held my hand, his grip tight. Fear was evident in his eyes, but there was determination there too. I could only offer him a weak smile, my throat too raw to form words of reassurance.

 

The world spun around me in a haze, reality and delusion blending seamlessly as my pain-addled mind struggled to hold onto consciousness. Shapes shifted and colors bled into one another, creating a surreal landscape that was both strange and eerily familiar.

 

It was then that my gaze landed on a splash of white decorating the interior of the inn. A small white azalea.

 

I blinked, unsure if it was a hallucination or reality. But the flower remained, unyielding and radiant. A memory surfaced, slow and bittersweet like honey, dragging me back to a time far removed from the present calamity.

 

The white azaleas…we used to grow them in our home. Their vibrant blooms were a constant presence in our gardens, a sight that brought joy to my mother's eyes. But then, one day, they were gone.

 

I remember asking my father about it. He had looked at me, a twinkle in his eyes and a smile on his lips. I had eaten a few of the flowers, curious about their taste, and had ended up sick in bed for days. The azaleas were no longer welcome in our garden.

 

Azaleas… their sweet-smelling flowers, a source of medicinal components like anesthetics and sedatives, and yet, if ingested raw, a poison.

 

In the fog of my mind, a spark of an idea emerged. It was faint and distant, but it held a potential that had me latching onto it like a lifeline. The azaleas, they could be the answer, the tool we needed to shift the balance in our favor.