The expansive space was partitioned into three sections. Medicine racks lined both sides; the left held herbs that appeared relatively normal, while the right was stocked entirely with substances of inky blackness. The largest central area was crowded with an assortment of bottles and jars, where four figures darted back and forth, intensely occupied.

“Zhan…”

Nie Kong began to speak, but Zhan Tianlu instantly shushed him, keeping his voice suppressed. “Brother Nie Kong, keep it down. Don’t disturb them.”

“Big Brother Zhan, can we go inside?” Nie Kong nodded, also speaking softly.

“Better not. Let’s just look from the doorway.”

Zhan Tianlun let out a dry chuckle, clearly embarrassed. “That old man inside is notoriously difficult, especially when he’s refining Nether Pills. If we go in now, he’ll absolutely berate us until we’re covered in soot!”

“Damn it.”

Nie Kong paused, surprised that this usually carefree elder of the Zhan Clan spoke with such caution in this place. Driven by curiosity, Nie Kong followed Zhan Tianlun’s gaze and soon noticed that while there were four figures inside, three young men were practically orbiting an elderly man with hair as white as snow.

It was that old man who caused such a transformation in Zhan Tianlun!

At this moment, the elder appeared to be refining Nether Pills, and to Nie Kong’s astonishment, he was managing six cauldrons simultaneously. Under his direction, the three young men would occasionally tap the side of a cauldron, injecting a burst of Death Qi, or swiftly lift a lid only to dash in a speck of medicinal powder. The old man, too, intermittently added elements into the vessels.

The four bustled busily around the six cauldrons, from which wisps of black mist curled upwards.

Nie Kong observed intently for a long while before realizing that the process of refining Nether Pills was broadly similar to that of refining spiritual medicines. The greatest difference, he suspected, lay in the heat source.

On the Celestial Spirit Continent, Spirit Masters who refined spiritual medicines were required to cultivate Fire Spirit Power or mutated spirit power infused with fire elements. During refinement, the flames were positioned beneath the cauldron, using scorching heat—whether strong or weak—combined with precise sequencing of additions, to allow the various medicinal properties to merge and coalesce.

Here, the refining of Nether Wells utilized Death Qi, which was not positioned at the base but injected directly into the cauldron at various intervals. This method was certainly peculiar, but what truly held Nie Kong’s attention were the traces of a searing aura accompanying the Death Qi expelled by the Nether Pill Masters—as if the Death Qi itself had integrated Fire Spirit Power elements.

However, Nie Kong was fully aware that the Black Spirit Masters here cultivated by absorbing pure Death Qi, making it impossible for the Death Qi to mutate by fusing with Fire Spirit Power elements. For this reason, the scorching Death Qi fascinated him.

“Big Brother Zhan, can Death Qi really be used to refine medicine?” After puzzling over it without finding an answer, Nie Kong softly inquired.

“You don’t even know this?”

Zhan Tianlun stared at Nie Kong as if he were an oddity for a moment, then, recalling that this uninformed young man hadn't even heard of the “Zhan Clan” initially, he instantly reconciled himself. Shaking his head slightly in exasperation, he whispered an explanation: “Death Qi cannot directly refine Nether Pills. What is used are Death Qi that has absorbed ‘Nether Fire.’”

“Nether Fire?”

Nie Kong was taken aback. Since the so-called “Nether Fire” bore the word “Fire” in its name, it must inherently contain Fire Spirit Power elements. Hadn’t he just concluded that the Death Qi couldn't fuse with Fire Spirit Power elements? Had that view just been overturned?

“As expected, you haven’t heard of Nether Fire either.”

Zhan Tianlun gave a wry smile. “Brother Nie Kong, sometimes I truly wonder if you belong to the Nether Earth at all.”

Nie Kong’s heart skipped a beat, yet his face remained innocently bewildered. “If I’m not from the Nether Earth, where else could I be from? I have amnesia, you see. I only remember things after leaving Water Cloud Town; I have absolutely no memory of what happened before.”

Amnesia—sometimes, it was a terribly useful shield!

Zhan Tianlun rolled his eyes and reluctantly continued his education: “In the northern part of our Nether Earth, there is a very strange region. That place has no vegetation whatsoever, only intensely dense Nether Force. About three thousand years ago, the Death Qi there suddenly nurtured a very small flame—that is the Nether Fire I mentioned. By two thousand years ago, that flame had grown immense. It was around that time that a Black Spirit Master discovered that the flame could be temporarily absorbed, and the resulting searing flame could then be used to refine Nether Pills.”

Nie Kong suddenly understood. Since the Nether Fire originated from Death Qi, it made some sense that Black Spirit Masters could temporarily absorb it. What surprised Nie Kong, though, was that the history of alchemy in the Nether Earth was only a mere two thousand years long!

“So, does that mean our level of alchemy in the Nether Earth is still very backward?” Nie Kong inquired.

Alchemy was a profound discipline. The Celestial Spirit Continent had spent an enormous amount of time evolving to its current state, and even then, it wasn't truly perfected.

This was evident just from the naming conventions for medicinal herbs; the same herb might be called "Concentric Vine" in the north but perhaps "Divergent Grass" in the south... one medicinal substance could have as many as eleven or twelve different names.

If the Celestial Spirit Continent was like that, what about the Nether Earth, with its paltry two-thousand-year history? In the realm of Nether Pill refinement, the Nether Earth must have started entirely from scratch. To catch up to the Celestial Spirit Continent in such a short span seemed nothing short of a fantasy.

“Uh, well, that… um… ah…” Zhan Tianlun stammered for a long time, failing to give a definitive answer, his eyes darting nervously towards the white-haired old man inside.

“…”

Nie Kong had never seen Zhan Tianlun display such behavior. He was greatly astonished and subconsciously followed his gaze, only to see the aged man’s frame tremble slightly, followed immediately by a dull, muffled roar: “Bang!”

A cauldron exploded?

Nie Kong quickly looked over. Sure enough, the smallest, roundest cauldron at the edge had burst into four pieces, scattering black dregs that fluttered down to the floor. The three busy young men stopped what they were doing, staring blankly at the shattered cauldron, their faces quickly clouding over with dejection.

“Bang!”

“Bang!”

Two more muffled explosions sounded. Nie Kong saw that two more cauldrons had burst open, splashing black residue everywhere. At this moment, a series of sharp rattling sounds began—the lid of one cauldron was vibrating, and the white-haired elder shot out a hand like lightning to slam it down.

“Bang!”

The fourth muffled detonation erupted. However, this cauldron wasn't blown apart by its contents, but smashed by the elder’s palm strike, the entire vessel dissolving into fine powder. Immediately after, it was swept away by the surge of air generated by the explosion of the fifth cauldron.

“Let’s go! Quick, go!”

Zhan Tianlun, who had been momentarily dumbstruck, snapped back to attention upon hearing the elder’s strike. His expression changed drastically, and he grabbed Nie Kong, pulling him toward the stairs.

“Stop right there!”

A sharp roar exploded next to their ears. The white-haired elder swept over like a whirlwind, glaring with furrowed brows at both Zhan Tianlun and Nie Kong.

Only then did Nie Kong get a clear look at his face. It showed surprisingly few wrinkles, instead possessing a rosy complexion like a child’s. A black scar, as thick as a finger, ran across his brow; at this moment, it writhed like an earthworm, betraying the depth of the old man’s rage.

“Ahem, Third Uncle,” Zhan Tianlun offered with an obsequious, flattering smile.

Seeing the burly, rugged Zhan Tianlun adopt such an expression was deeply comical. Nie Kong almost laughed aloud, though he vaguely understood that his Big Brother Zhan held this elder, whom he called “Third Uncle,” in great fear.

“Shut up! Stand still, you brat!”

The white-haired elder roared, spitting flecks of saliva onto Zhan Tianlun’s face.

“Yes, yes!” Zhan Tianlun nodded furiously.

Seeing Zhan Tianlun behaving so obediently, the elder’s gaze shifted to Nie Kong, punctuated by a heavy snort. “I am Zhan Feihong. What is your name, little fellow…”

“Pfft!”

The elder hadn't finished speaking when another dull thud echoed from inside the room. Nie Kong glanced sideways; the sixth cauldron had also exploded. By this point, all six cauldrons the old man had been using simultaneously to refine Nether Pills were ruined, not one left intact.

Looking at the field of black sludge, Nie Kong couldn't suppress a grin. Zhan Feihong stood rigidly, the corner of his mouth twitching, the black scar on his brow looking even more menacing. As for Zhan Tianlun, he kept his mouth firmly shut, his shoulders subtly trembling.

“Scram!”

Zhan Feihong suddenly spun around and roared at Zhan Tianlun.

“Alright, right away.”

Zhan Tianlun fled down the stairs, scared out of his wits, then darted to the landing leading to the first floor, poking his head out to secretly observe Zhan Feihong, giving him an expression that clearly meant, “Good luck with that.”

Nie Kong was stunned for a moment that Zhan Tianlun had been roared away by his Third Uncle. When he regained his senses and saw the old man’s eyes settling back on him, he coughed dryly. “I am Nie Kong, greetings, Third Uncle.”

“Hmm? You call me Third Uncle?”

Zhan Feihong clearly hadn’t expected Nie Kong to address him so familiarly. He paused before stating coldly, “It won't do you any good even if you call me Third Master! You ignorant, shallow-minded little brat, you dare utter that our Nether Earth’s alchemy level is backward when you haven’t even heard of ‘Nether Fire’?” By the end of his tirade, spittle flew, and his eyes seemed ready to pop out, aimed squarely at Nie Kong’s head.

Judging by his words, Nie Kong thought, his assessment of the Nether Earth’s alchemical proficiency must have struck a raw nerve. He felt thoroughly speechless, concluding that the old man was likely just finding an excuse to vent because all six of his cauldrons had exploded.

“It is indeed very backward.” Nie Kong’s eyes shifted, and he suddenly corrected him with a sly smile.

“What? What did you say?”

Zhan Feihong could hardly believe his ears. His eyes opened wide, fixed unblinkingly on Nie Kong. Zhan Tianlun, peering down from the staircase landing, also gaped in astonishment, his heart churning with anxiety. This is bad!