Alchemy God: the Ultimate Pill Master

Sandro slowly sat up, his body still trembling from the overwhelming experience. His head ached, and his mind raced with questions. What had just happened? What was that dragon? And what did it mean by "Patriarch"?

His surroundings came into focus as he steadied himself, but the lingering echo of the dragon's voice made it hard to concentrate. Patriarch... What is that supposed to mean? Sandro thought, his brow furrowed. He had no answers, only more confusion.

He got to his feet, brushing dust and dirt off his clothes as he surveyed the room. The chamber was quiet now, the air heavy with an eerie stillness. He searched for a way out, but the stone walls seemed impenetrable. There were no doors or visible exits.

“Figures,” he muttered to himself. “Of course, I get trapped in a dungeon with no way out. Typical.”

His eyes fell back to the casket where the dragon had emerged. A part of him wanted nothing to do with it, but his curiosity tugged at him. If that dragon had left something behind, it was worth investigating. Slowly, cautiously, Sandro approached the casket, his heart pounding in his chest.

He reached for the lid, his hands trembling slightly, and carefully lifted it. The stone was cold beneath his fingertips, and as the lid came away, he peered inside. His eyes widened in surprise.

Lying inside the casket were three books. They were ancient, bound in worn leather and etched with symbols that glowed faintly. The titles, written in an elegant, flowing script, stood out to Sandro immediately:

"The Alchemical Genesis: Secrets of the Divine Flame"
"Pill Creation Beyond Mortal Reach: The Path to Immortality"
"Godly Elixirs and Eternal Life: The True Art of Pill Mastery"

Sandro blinked, awe washing over him. These weren’t just any books. These were God-tier tomes on alchemy and pill creation, treasures that any Pill Master would kill to possess. His hands shook as he reached down and grabbed all three books, carefully placing them in his storage ring.

“Looks like I’ve hit the jackpot,” he whispered to himself, unable to suppress a small grin. “Elder Miyotashi would flip if she saw these.”

Just as he was about to step back, something else caught his attention. At the very end of the casket, nestled in a small, intricately carved groove, was a pill. It was tiny, about the size of a milk dud, but it emitted a strange, fluorescent glow. Sandro’s hand hovered over it for a moment, drawn in by the immense amount of energy radiating from the pill.

Without thinking, he reached down and picked it up. The moment his fingers closed around it, a wave of mental energy washed over him. His head spun, his vision blurred. It was as though the pill was alive, pulsing with raw power.

“Whoa… what is this?” Sandro muttered, staring at the pill in wonder. He could feel it calling to him, urging him to consume it. His hand moved of its own accord, bringing the pill closer to his mouth.

“Wait, what am I doing—?” Sandro’s words were cut short as the pill slipped past his lips, and before he could stop himself, he swallowed it.

The effect was immediate.

An excruciating headache slammed into him, so powerful that it knocked him off his feet. His hands flew to his head, clutching it in agony as the pain surged through his skull. It felt like his brain was being torn apart, the mental pressure unbearable.

“Ugh…!” Sandro groaned, his body writhing in pain. His mind screamed, the intensity of the headache driving him to the brink of madness. He stumbled toward the wall, desperation taking over as he slammed his head against the stone.

Bang!

The impact sent a shockwave of pain through his already throbbing skull, but it was nothing compared to the mental agony he was enduring. He hit his head again, harder this time, his forehead scraping against the rough stone.

Bang! Bang!

Blood trickled down his face as he continued to strike his head against the wall, the only thought in his mind to somehow counteract the overwhelming pain.

I need to stop this…

Just as he was about to slam his head for the nth time, a voice rang out in his mind. It was the dragon’s voice—deep and calm, cutting through the chaos in his head.

“The pill you have consumed, master, is a tier 6 Mental Strength Pill,” the dragon’s voice said, its tone respectful. “It took me millennia to prepare for you. I apologize that my servant’s mental power was not strong enough to make it a tier 10 pill, but I have left all my research in the books within the casket. All will be explained there.”

Sandro froze, his body trembling as the dragon’s words echoed in his mind.

“A tier 6… Mental Strength Pill…?” Sandro gasped, his vision still blurred from the pain. He leaned heavily against the wall, trying to make sense of what he had just heard.

The dragon’s voice continued, its tone filled with reverence. “With that pill, your mental fortitude will grow stronger. You will be able to withstand pressures that would shatter lesser minds. But for now, the process will be painful… I urge you to be patient, Patriarch.”

“P-Patriarch?” Sandro muttered, the word rolling around in his mind like a foreign concept. He had no idea what it meant, but the dragon spoke it with such reverence that it left a lingering impression.

Before he could ask more questions, the dragon’s voice faded, leaving Sandro alone once more.

The pain in his head slowly began to subside, the intense throbbing easing into a dull ache. Sandro slumped against the wall, breathing heavily, his body drenched in sweat. His hands shook as he wiped the blood from his forehead, his heart still racing from the ordeal.

“Damn… that was intense,” he muttered, his voice weak but steady.

He pushed himself off the wall, his legs wobbling slightly as he steadied himself. His mind was still reeling from the effects of the pill, but he could feel it—the increased mental clarity, the sharpness of thought. The dragon hadn’t been lying. The pill had enhanced his mental strength, though it had nearly driven him insane in the process.

Sandro glanced back at the casket, his eyes narrowing as he recalled the dragon’s final words. The books…

Whatever was in those books, Sandro knew they held the answers he needed. He would have to study them carefully. For now, though, his priority was finding a way out of this dungeon.

With one last glance at the casket, Sandro took a deep breath and began searching for a way out, his mind still buzzing with the dragon’s words.

Long live the Patriarch…

Sandro sat cross-legged on the cold stone floor, the three ancient books laid out before him. The weight of their knowledge felt almost tangible in the air, like a great force waiting to be unleashed. The titles alone promised secrets that few had ever glimpsed, and Sandro could feel his heart race in anticipation.

He reached for the first book, "The Alchemical Genesis: Secrets of the Divine Flame," its cover worn but still glowing faintly with the energy it held. As he opened it, the pages practically shimmered with power, as though the knowledge inside was alive, waiting for the right mind to understand it.

As he read, Sandro realized this book wasn’t just about alchemy—it was about the origins of alchemy itself. The book described how the first practitioners of alchemy had discovered the divine flame, a primordial source of energy that could be harnessed to transform matter and unlock the true potential of the body and soul.

“The Divine Flame,” Sandro whispered, his fingers tracing the glowing text. “It is said that whoever can control this flame holds the key to the creation of life and the mastery of death.”

The book detailed how the divine flame could be channeled through certain rare ingredients to create powerful elixirs and pills, ones that could heal, strengthen, or even extend life. But it wasn’t just about mixing ingredients—the flame itself was the key to mastering these techniques. The practitioner had to be attuned to its power, had to learn how to control it through both physical and mental discipline.

Sandro’s mind raced with possibilities. “So that’s why the green flames appeared… it’s tied to this Divine Flame,” he muttered, his excitement growing. If he could learn to master this flame, he could surpass anything he had ever imagined.

He set the first book aside, feeling the gravity of its teachings, and reached for the second one.

"Pill Creation Beyond Mortal Reach: The Path to Immortality" was heavier, both in weight and in meaning. The title alone sent a shiver down Sandro’s spine. This book, as he quickly discovered, was not for the faint of heart. It described techniques that could push the limits of the human body and soul, using alchemical pills to transcend the mortal coil.

The book was a deep dive into the rarest of alchemical creations—pills that could grant immortality, elevate the soul to new planes of existence, or even reverse the effects of aging. It spoke of legendary Pill Masters who had devoted centuries to creating these mystical pills, only for most of them to fail, consumed by the very power they sought to control.

“There are pills that can destroy you if you’re not careful…” Sandro muttered, fascinated and wary all at once. The book described the exact processes needed to create these godly pills—elaborate rituals, dangerous ingredients, and the immense concentration required to ensure success.

One particular passage stood out to him:

Only those who have mastered the divine flame can attempt the path of immortality. The body must be purified, the soul fortified, and the mind unwavering in its pursuit. For to achieve immortality is not merely to live forever—it is to transcend the very fabric of existence.

Sandro leaned back, absorbing the gravity of what he had just read. This book wasn’t just about creating pills—it was about ascending to a higher form of life. The risks were enormous, but the rewards were beyond comprehension.

With a deep breath, Sandro picked up the final book.

"Godly Elixirs and Eternal Life: The True Art of Pill Mastery." The title alone radiated power, and as Sandro opened the book, he immediately felt the difference. This was the pinnacle of alchemical knowledge, a book that had likely never been read by anyone outside of a select few.

The first chapters were grandiose, describing how the greatest Pill Masters had used their knowledge not just to create elixirs, but to alter reality itself. They had forged pills that could control the elements, bend space and time, and even manipulate the laws of life and death. It was alchemy at its most powerful—and most dangerous.

But it was the final chapters that truly shook Sandro to his core.

His eyes scanned the text, and his breath caught in his throat as he read about the ultimate secret—a way to increase one’s level beyond the conventional limits. Most people in this world considered levels in the 80s or 90s to be godlike, but this book spoke of something far greater. It detailed a path to raise one’s level to 999.

“Level 999?” Sandro whispered in disbelief. He read further, his heart pounding.

The text explained that reaching level 999 wasn’t just a matter of cultivation or strength. It required the creation of a legendary pill, one that fused the user’s body, soul, and mind with the divine essence of the universe itself. The pill was so powerful that it could only be created with the rarest ingredients, and even then, only someone who had mastered both the divine flame and the path of immortality could survive the process.

To reach level 999 is to become a god, the text declared. Your mortal limits will be shattered, and you will ascend to a plane of existence where time, space, and reality bend to your will.

Sandro’s eyes widened as he realized what he was reading. This wasn’t just theoretical. It was possible. It had been done before—though the text hinted that few had survived the process. The book even described the exact steps needed to create the pill, though the ingredients listed were nearly impossible to obtain.

“This is it…” Sandro said, his voice barely a whisper. “This is the key to everything. To becoming… a god.”

His mind raced with possibilities. With this knowledge, he could surpass the limitations that had once held him back. He could rise beyond what anyone in the academy had ever dreamed of. But he also knew the risks were astronomical. One misstep, and he could be destroyed in the process.

He stared at the pages in awe, feeling the weight of the knowledge pressing down on him. This was the path to ultimate power—but it was also the most dangerous thing he had ever encountered.

Sandro closed the book, his hands shaking slightly as the enormity of the situation settled in.

“I can’t believe it…” he muttered, staring at the three books in front of him. “This is insane.”

But even as he spoke the words, he couldn’t help but feel a surge of excitement. For the first time in his life, the limitations he had been cursed with no longer felt like chains. He had a way forward—a way to become something more than anyone had ever imagined.

He stood up, holding the three books in his hands, determination filling his chest.

“Level 999, huh?” Sandro smirked. “Guess I’ve got some work to do.”

As soon as the words left Sandro’s mouth—"Level 999, huh? Guess I’ve got some work to do"—the ground beneath him began to tremble. The entire crypt rumbled as if responding to his declaration. Sandro’s eyes widened in shock as part of the stone wall near the far side of the crypt collapsed, revealing a hidden stairway that spiraled upward into the darkness.

What now? Sandro thought, his heart racing. He didn’t hesitate for long, though. Grabbing the three God-tier books tightly, he bolted toward the newly revealed stairway, his mind set on getting out of this dungeon.

The stairs were narrow and steep, forcing him to move cautiously, but his adrenaline pushed him forward. Each step felt like an eternity as the air grew cooler, the sounds of the crypt fading behind him. Sandro’s legs burned from the climb, but he didn’t stop until he reached the top. Bursting out into the open, he was greeted by a rush of cool, fresh air and the sound of roaring water.

Sandro blinked a few times, adjusting to the sudden change in light. He realized he had emerged from behind a massive waterfall, the cascading water creating a shimmering curtain between him and the outside world. The sight was breathtaking, but there was no time to appreciate it.

Suddenly, the sounds of battle reached his ears—clashing metal, shouts of determination, and the deep, guttural roars of a beast. His heart pounded as he rushed toward the noise, weaving through the trees and rocky terrain. As he got closer, Sandro spotted a clearing where the battle was unfolding.

There, in the midst of the chaos, was Ember. Her deep blue hair was unmistakable, and she was leading a group of upperclass students against none other than the Demon Newt he had encountered earlier. The massive beast thrashed and snarled, its blackened scales gleaming in the light. Ember moved like a whirlwind, her spear darting forward with precision, driving the Newt back with each strike.

Sandro’s breath caught in his throat as something strange happened to his vision. For a moment, his eyesight blurred, the world around him becoming fuzzy and unfocused. He blinked rapidly, trying to clear his vision, and when he opened his eyes again, everything had changed.

He could see things—details about the world that he had never noticed before. Materials, herbs, and resources were scattered all around the battlefield, each glowing faintly with an aura that highlighted their properties. More astonishingly, he could see the levels and stats of the people and monsters before him. His gaze shifted to Ember, and immediately, a glowing stat block appeared in his vision:

Ember Dragovich - Level 72

His mind raced. Level 72? She's already one of the most powerful people to ever live… He blinked again, his new vision now revealing something even deeper—he could see inside her body, detecting her injuries and fatigue, the toll the battle had taken on her.

The same went for the four upperclass students fighting alongside her. They were all geniuses, their levels ranging from 67 to 70, their abilities and strengths clearly displayed to Sandro’s enhanced vision. He could even detect hidden afflictions within their bodies, something that no ordinary person would be able to sense.

Sandro watched in awe as Ember pressed forward with relentless force. Her spear flashed in the air, and with one final, well-aimed strike, she drove the weapon into the Demon Newt’s side. The beast let out a deafening roar before turning and retreating, crashing through the trees as it fled back into the forest.

The moment the Newt disappeared, Ember let out a deep breath, her body relaxing. She wiped sweat from her brow and turned, scanning the clearing. Her eyes fell on Sandro, and for a second, she looked shocked to see him there.

“Sandro?!” Ember shouted, quickly running over to him, her expression a mix of concern and anger. She grabbed him by the shoulders, looking him up and down as if to make sure he was still in one piece. “Are you alright? What the hell were you thinking, going out on a supply run without proper equipment or even a weapon?!”

Sandro winced under her grip, still a little dazed from everything that had happened. “I… I’m fine,” he stammered. “I just—”

“Fine?!” Ember interrupted, her eyes blazing. “Do you have any idea how dangerous it was out here? You could’ve been killed! If that Demon Newt had found you before we did, you’d be—”

Sandro cut her off, his voice calm but firm. “Ember, all the weapons I was offered were pure bullshit.”

Ember blinked, momentarily taken aback by his bluntness. “What?”

Sandro smirked, a glint of mischief in his eyes. “Yeah, all that fancy gear they gave me? Useless. My fists would do a much better job.”

For a moment, there was silence. Then, to Sandro’s surprise, Ember burst out laughing. “You’re serious, aren’t you?” she said between chuckles. “You’d rather go bare-handed than use the crap they gave you?”

“Damn right,” Sandro replied, a grin spreading across his face.

Ember shook her head, still smiling as she lightly punched his arm. “You’re a real idiot, you know that?”

Sandro shrugged, enjoying the lighthearted moment. But as Ember scouted the area and prepared to escort him back to the academy, his enhanced vision continued to show him things he hadn’t noticed before. He saw the tiny cuts and bruises on Ember’s body, the strain in her muscles, the residual effects of magic that clung to her from the battle. She was strong—really strong—but even she had her limits.

Once they arrived back at the academy, Sandro barely had time to take a breath before he was enveloped in a tight hug. It was Master Miyotashi, her usually calm demeanor replaced with raw emotion.

“Thank goodness you're safe!” she exclaimed, pulling back just enough to examine him. Her eyes scanned him up and down, checking for any injuries. “You had me worried sick, Sandro! Running off like that—what were you thinking?”

Sandro scratched the back of his head, feeling a little sheepish. “I didn’t mean to cause any trouble, Master. Things just… got a bit out of hand.”

Miyotashi sighed, relief washing over her, though she still seemed shaken by his disappearance.

Before she could scold him further, a commotion stirred in the courtyard. The Dragonlord, flanked by the academy’s elders, appeared in the center, their expressions grim. Word spread quickly, and soon, all of the academy’s students gathered around, forming a circle to hear what was about to be said.

The Dragonlord stood tall, but there was a heaviness in his posture, and his tone was grave as he addressed the crowd. “We have just received some alarming news from the Canterlot Empire Academy,” he began, his voice carrying across the courtyard. “Five of their students have reached level 100… and they have yet to celebrate their fifteenth birthdays.”

Gasps of shock rippled through the crowd.

“That’s impossible,” one student whispered to another.

“How could they reach such a level so young?” another muttered.

But the Dragonlord wasn’t finished. His next words sent another wave of disbelief through the gathering. “The Cloudsdale Academy has also reported that many of their students have surpassed level 90 and are on the verge of reaching 100.”

Miyotashi, standing next to Sandro, furrowed her brow, her concern deepening.

The Dragonlord’s voice grew heavy with disappointment. “Because of these developments, our academy, once ranked third, has now fallen to eleventh place. Even smaller academies, such as Appleloosa, have surpassed us.”

The weight of the news settled over the crowd like a dark cloud. For centuries, the Dragonlands Royal Academy had been one of the most prestigious in the world. But now, it seemed the world was changing—fast.

As the Dragonlord dismissed everyone, the students scattered, their minds racing with thoughts of how to improve their skills, how to train harder, how to avoid falling behind.

Sandro, still processing the information, followed Master Miyotashi back to the alchemy wing. But the shock of the news clung to them both, affecting their concentration.

They resumed their pill-making session, but no matter what they did, the furnace kept exploding. Time and time again, their attempts were met with failure, and soon, Miyotashi’s face was covered in soot.

“I can’t focus,” Miyotashi admitted, throwing her hands up in frustration. “This news… it’s shaken the foundation of everything we’ve worked for.”

Sandro wiped some soot from his own face, sitting down in a nearby chair. “I get it… How is it even possible for students to reach level 100 so quickly? What’s changed?”

Miyotashi shook her head, her eyes distant. “I don’t know. But whatever’s happening in the world, we’re clearly falling behind.”

As they sat in silence, Sandro suddenly felt a strange sensation. The information from the three God-tier books he had read earlier seemed to come to life in his mind, as if every detail was laid out before him like a vivid blueprint. His vision sharpened, and he noticed that several items in the room were outlined in bright lights—each ingredient, each tool glowing as if they were calling out to him.

“Master,” Sandro said, blinking in confusion, “do you see anything… odd in the room?”

Miyotashi, still deep in her thoughts, barely glanced at him. “No, Sandro. Nothing unusual.”

But Sandro couldn’t shake the feeling. He stood up, drawn to the glowing ingredients on the shelves. Without thinking, he grabbed them all and brought them to the preparation table.

Miyotashi, curious but saying nothing, watched from a distance. Her eyes grew wide as Sandro threw the ingredients directly into the pill furnace without cutting or preparing them—a method that went against everything she had taught him. She opened her mouth to speak but stopped herself, something in Sandro’s demeanor telling her to let him work.

Then came the flames—the same green flames that had shocked her before. They danced around Sandro’s hands as he worked the furnace, his movements smooth and confident, as if he had done this a thousand times before.

Miyotashi’s heart raced as she watched the process unfold. And then, with a soft hiss, a pill popped out of the furnace—its surface shimmering with all the colors of the rainbow.

Miyotashi approached cautiously, her eyes fixed on the pill. “What… what is this?” she asked, her voice barely a whisper.

Sandro looked at her, a slight grin on his face. “I have no idea. It just… came to me.”

Miyotashi carefully took the pill in her hands, her mind racing as she examined it. Her eyes widened as she realized what she was holding. “This… this is a grade 7 pill,” she said, her voice filled with disbelief.

Sandro blinked, a mixture of pride and confusion settling in. “Grade 7? Should I… try it?”

But Miyotashi quickly shook her head, stepping in to stop him. “Absolutely not,” she said firmly. “If the pill was made incorrectly, it could explode inside your body, killing you instantly.”

Sandro frowned, his curiosity tempered by her warning. “Then what do we do with it?”

Miyotashi hesitated for a moment before making her decision. “I’ll take it. If something goes wrong, I’ve lived a long life. You, on the other hand, still have much ahead of you.”

Sandro tried to protest, but Miyotashi was already preparing herself. She sat down on the floor, closed her eyes, and swallowed the pill. Almost immediately, her body tensed as the effects of the pill began to take hold. Pain flashed across her face, but she fought it off, quickly entering a meditative state to condense the pill’s power within her body.

Sandro watched in awe as three bright golden rings of pure energy surrounded her, the force of their appearance shaking the room. The rings pulsed with power, growing brighter with each passing second, and then, all at once, they were absorbed into her body.

A shockwave of raw energy exploded from Miyotashi, sending books, tools, and ingredients flying across the room. Sandro stumbled back, shielding his face from the blast as the air crackled with residual energy.

The shockwave was so intense, it rippled through the entire academy, even reaching the Dragonlord’s quarters. He felt the tremor but dismissed it as nothing more than a student making a mistake. With a sigh, he returned to reading his reports.

Back in the alchemy wing, the dust settled, and Sandro stood up, his heart pounding from the sudden chaos. He looked toward Miyotashi, who remained seated, her body glowing faintly with residual energy. Slowly, she opened her eyes, her expression a mixture of awe and disbelief.

“Master?” Sandro asked cautiously.

Miyotashi smiled weakly, her voice soft. “Sandro… that pill… It was beyond anything I’ve ever experienced.”

Master Miyotashi stood in the middle of the room, her eyes wide as she gazed at her hands, flexing them in disbelief. With a surge of energy, she performed a series of elaborate moves, each motion fluid and graceful. But with every gesture, more power erupted from her body, sending shelves, equipment, and books flying across the room. The very air crackled with energy.

Sandro barely managed to stay on his feet as the whirlwind of power radiated from her. His jaw dropped in awe. This was beyond anything he had ever seen.

“What... What did you do, Sandro?” Miyotashi asked, her voice filled with a mix of awe and shock. Without waiting for an answer, she opened her stat screen, and when she saw the numbers, she nearly fainted. “Level 125…” she whispered, her hands trembling. “I was at level 70 just moments ago.”

She stared at her screen, disbelief etched on her face. “I’ve jumped 55 levels in an instant. I’m... I’m a Goddess among mortals now.”

Sandro watched in stunned silence as Miyotashi slowly realized the full extent of what had happened. But it wasn’t just her power that had changed. Her once elderly form had reverted to that of a young woman in her twenties. Her silver hair, once a symbol of her age and wisdom, had turned a deep, rich black, the color it had been in her youth. All signs of aging—her wrinkles, her aching joints, her frailness—were gone. She was, in every sense, reborn.

She turned to Sandro, her eyes filled with a mixture of excitement, confusion, and raw curiosity. “What... what did you do? How did you make that pill? What was its name? Where did you learn it?”

Sandro, equally shocked by the transformation, stammered, “I-I don’t know. I just… I just followed my instincts. During the supply run, I found these books, and—”

“Books?” Miyotashi interrupted, her eyes narrowing with interest. “What books?”

Without wasting a moment, Sandro pulled the three God-tier books from his storage ring and placed them on the table. Miyotashi’s eyes widened at the sight of the ancient tomes, the titles glowing faintly under the dim light. She wasted no time. With a burst of energy that belied her newfound youth, she swept everything off the table with a single motion, clearing space for the books.

“Put them here,” she demanded, her voice filled with urgency.

Sandro placed the books on the table, and Miyotashi immediately began reading them aloud, her eyes darting across the pages, absorbing every word. Hours passed as she pored over the texts, her mind reeling with the knowledge they contained. Sandro watched in silence, too overwhelmed to interrupt her as she uncovered secrets that few had ever known.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Miyotashi closed the last book and stood in stunned silence. She turned to Sandro, her expression filled with awe.

“This… this is beyond anything I’ve ever known,” she said, her voice trembling. “These books... they hold the keys to alchemy and pill mastery on a level that no one in our world could even dream of.”

Sandro nodded slowly, still trying to process everything himself. “So… what do we do now?”

Miyotashi took a deep breath, her gaze steady. “We need to inform the Dragonlord. This kind of knowledge… this power… It’s too important to keep secret. And given what’s happened to me, well,” she gestured to her youthful form, “it’s not something I can hide.”

She turned to leave, but then stopped herself, her mind racing. “No,” she said suddenly, her eyes filled with determination. “Not yet.”

Sandro raised an eyebrow. “What do you mean?”

Miyotashi grabbed him by the arm and led him out of the alchemy room, heading toward the academy’s library. “Before we go to the Dragonlord, you need to be prepared,” she said, her voice firm. “If you’re going to be the Pill God or the Dragon Patriarch, as those books suggest, you need to know everything there is about biology, medicine, and the art of alchemy.”

They entered the library, heading straight for the wings dedicated to biological sciences and medical studies. Miyotashi pointed to the rows of towering bookshelves. “You are to read all the books in this pavilion. Only then will I allow you to return to continue making pills.”

Sandro stared at the vast collection of books, his mouth open in disbelief. “You want me to read all of them? That’s going to take… forever!”

Miyotashi fixed him with a stern look. “You told me about the Patriarch, Sandro. If that is truly the role you are meant to fulfill, you need to be more than just powerful. You need to be wise, knowledgeable. A leader. If you are to live up to the title of Pill God or Dragon Patriarch, you need to act the part. Power without wisdom is a dangerous thing.”

Sandro opened his mouth to argue, but one glance at her resolved expression silenced him. With a sigh, he grabbed the first book off the nearest shelf and sat down, opening it to the first page. “Fine,” he muttered. “But this is going to take a while.”

Miyotashi smiled faintly. “Take your time. I’ll be meditating in seclusion at the Whistling Caverns. Come find me when you’re done.”

With that, she left the library, her thoughts racing. As she walked through the academy, her mind was still buzzing with everything that had just happened. The power she had gained, the knowledge Sandro had uncovered—it was all too much to process.

But as she made her way toward the Whistling Caverns, an idea crept into her mind. She pulled out her phone and quickly dialed a number. The phone rang twice before a familiar voice picked up.

“Erika? It’s me, Mom.”

There was a pause on the other end before Erika’s voice, surprised but happy, came through. “Mom! I haven’t heard from you in a while. How are you?”

Miyotashi smiled, her tone brimming with excitement. “Oh, dear, I’m doing wonderful… You have no idea. How’s Mina? Is she taking her training seriously?”

“She’s doing great,” Erika replied. “She’s been working hard, especially after that last competition. She’s determined to get stronger.”

“Glad to hear it,” Miyotashi said, her voice growing serious. “Listen, Erika, I think I’ve found the perfect husband for Mina.”

There was a stunned silence on the other end. “What? Who?”

“One of my students,” Miyotashi replied, her voice full of pride. “He was your father’s disciple. He’s… well, let’s just say he has immense potential.”

Erika laughed, her tone teasing. “Then Mina better step up her game if she wants to catch his attention.”

Miyotashi chuckled softly. “Exactly. Keep an eye on her. This is going to be something special.”

With that, she ended the call and continued her journey to the Whistling Caverns, her thoughts racing with everything she had just experienced and the future that awaited.