'Wait, I'm Supposed to Become a Goddess?! But I'm a Guy!'

The two got to work without wasting time.

Klein, to be honest, wasn’t particularly thrilled about the whole “save the beauty” plan.

If he had a choice, he’d be sprinting in the opposite direction by now.

The idea of playing the noble hero wasn’t exactly on his bucket list.

Escaping this cursed place, preferably alive, was the only thing that mattered to him.

Beauty?

Yes, he liked beautiful women. Who wouldn't?

But if he died then there would be no chance to enjoy it.

But then the old man’s words had pulled him out of his wishful daydreams with a slap of reality.

In order to escape, they needed her, desperately. They possessed no other choices.

Just think about it.

The only entrance to this place was above the sky, to the hole. But how do we get there?

Especially after knowing there were horrible monsters living here. Should they risk it with their pitiful strength?

Neither of them could fly, and saving a True Lord of the human race might just be the ticket out of this hellhole.

Like it or not, she was the only option.

The old man crouched low, shifting through the scattered herbs with care.

Dozens of thin threads of spiritual energy connected his fingers to the various plants, guiding them like a puppeteer.

Then, his voice echoed in this narrow crack, "The art of elixir refining or pill refining or whatever most people call it, it is the art of mixing the essence of the heaven and the earth"

"Taking properties of spiritual herbs and mixing them with the other, and creating an elixir with a variety of uses"

His fingers moved like a seasoned puppeteer’s, and one by one, the herbs began to react, some glowing faintly, others peeling away from their buds, delicate veins pulled clean.

A few even melted into shimmering droplets midair before drifting toward the cauldron.

Klein stood nearby, managing the fire beneath the cauldron with a steady hand, keeping the temperature in check.

His gaze, however, kept drifting toward the old man.

There was something mesmerizing about how he controlled the entire process, like watching an artist at work with no wasted motion.

The word "perfection" echoed in his mind.

“Hey old man,” Klein finally asked, eyes narrowing slightly, “what kind of elixir are we even making? You said earlier that a True Lord’s body isn’t compatible with low-tier stuff.”

"Since she's a tier 7 existence, then it would be natural for you to make a tier 7 elixir, right?"

The old man didn’t pause. His hands moved with mechanical grace, the herbs weaving through the air under his control, glowing brighter as they neared the cauldron.

He responded in a tone both casual and focused. “Her injuries aren’t life-threatening. She just forced herself into a hibernation state to survive the backlash.”

"It was quite a smart move. She knew the risk of using that ability and to counter it, before the backslash came, she forced her body to 'die'"

“The final technique she used consumed a ridiculous amount of blood and essence"

"Normally, a True Lord would’ve been drained dry pulling that off… but she isn’t exactly normal.”

With a soft exhale, he flicked his wrist, directing the remaining herbs into the cauldron.

The flames shifted as he took over the fire, his technique seamless.

Sparks curled upward, dancing in arcs around the lid.

“She’s built for ice,” he continued, voice steady despite the intensity of his task.

The herbs and spiritual plants floating around, it was a sight to behold.

“Probably an ice mage, though maybe something even rarer, can’t say for sure. Her physique’s perfect for cold-based techniques. That much is obvious.”

"As for her exactl proffesion, I had never seen this one before"

Klein nodded slowly, absorbing the information while still watching the old man’s movements like a hawk. “So… the pill we’re making?”

“Extreme fiery elixir,” the old man said without missing a beat. “Tier seven. Matches her cultivation realm. Which should be able to force the extreme cold out of her body and reverse the hibernation state"

As the flames intensified, the cauldron hissed.

Strange, iridescent vapors began to leak from the edges, swirling in the air like oil in water.

“Her body’s locked in a deep freeze, hibernation. She has no other visible injuries for now, but without the right push, she might not wake up for a long time.”

"Worst case scenario if the pill doesn't work, we would need to build a house here and hopefully not die"

“How long are we talking?” Klein asked, brows furrowed.

“Decades, maybe?” the old man chuckled. “Hard to say.”

Klein blinked. “Decades?!”

The old man glanced over, smirking at his expression. “New to higher realm knowledge, huh? Listen up, brat.”

“Huh?”

“When someone breaks into Tier 5, their lifespan starts to stretch. Tier 5, you live up to two hundred years. Tier 6, five hundred. Tier 7…”

He paused deliberately, watching Klein’s expression shift.

“A thousand years,” he said with a grin. “So sleeping for a few decades? That’s nothing. Don’t be too shocked.”

"For them, a single year is probably akin to that of a day"

“Awakeners can live that long?” Klein asked, stunned.

“Of course,” the old man snorted. “I’m a walking fossil, remember? Though I probably should’ve explained that earlier when we met"

He let out a hearty laugh and returned to his refining. The flames danced higher, taking on a strange golden-blue hue.

Refining a Tier 7 elixir was no joke.

It wasn’t just difficult, it was monumental.

In the entire region, maybe five or six people could pull it off without exploding something.

What even was an elixir?

A pill created by compressing the pure essence and attributes of numerous spiritual herbs into one potent form.

It could heal, enhance, or trigger breakthroughs.

A profession of its own, equal in complexity to formation masters and just as vital.

Only lunatics or prodigies chose this path. It wasn’t just about talent, it required absurd levels of comprehension, insane spiritual control, and a brain wired for alchemy.

One in a million, if that.

Klein was barely a Tier 3 alchemist. He could make a few decent pills, sure, but Tier 7?

Out of his league.

The old man, on the other hand, was a legend.

A Tier 8 alchemist. A walking relic from a forgotten age.

In his prime, he could level mountains and part oceans with a flick of his wrist. He wasn’t just strong, he was terrifying.

BOOM!

A sudden detonation thundered from the cauldron.

Klein flinched hard, the ground vibrating beneath his feet. A rich, intoxicating aroma hit him like a sledgehammer.

“Whoa… that smell!” he gasped.

SWOOSH!

With a single casual wave, the old man dispersed the fragrance before it could spread further.

His expression remained calm, but the corners of his lips twitched in amusement.

Klein stumbled back, sweat trickling down his spine.

His pulse was racing. “What the hell was that?! The smell alone nearly knocked me out!”

The old man didn’t even look up. “Tier 7 elixirs, brat. Normal Awakeners wouldn’t last two breaths around them.”

He stirred the fire once more and added with a faint smile, “If you tried to take this pill now?”

Klein held his breath, eyes wide.

“You’d explode,” the old man said cheerfully. “Your body isn’t even remotely ready to handle the energy packed inside that thing.”

Klein gulped, taking another step back from the cauldron.

“Noted,” he muttered.

The process of refining an elixir was nothing short of maddening, intricate, volatile, and wholly unforgiving.

The higher the tier of the ingredients, the harder they were to handle.

Even the tiniest misstep could send the entire concoction spiraling into disaster, rendering the cauldron’s contents useless in an instant.

Frankly, the stakes were absurd. It wasn’t a job for the talented, it was a job for maniacs.

Hovering cross-legged above the ground, the old man twisted his wrist in a strange motion, fingers trailing through the air like he was pulling invisible threads.

Then, with a final push, the flame surged upward and wrapped itself fully around the cauldron.

Its color shifted gradually from orange to deep blue, the temperature rising like a silent predator baring its fangs.

Zoom.

A sudden burst of scorching heat blasted through the air. Klein jerked instinctively, his muscles tightening before he even registered the danger.

The old man gave a casual flick of his hand, dispersing the heat wave like it was a bothersome breeze. “Don’t stand too close,” he said offhandedly. “Even your soul would start to burn.”

Klein hissed under his breath, forcing out a long exhale as he took several steps back.

“Noted,” he muttered.

Sure, learning was important, but not enough to die over. He’d happily watch from a safer distance.

The fire danced and shifted. Sometimes it surged from above, sometimes from below, other times curling in from the sides.

The old man adjusted it constantly, micromanaging the inferno like a seasoned conductor leading an orchestra.

Inside the cauldron, the herbs were stirred with precision, compressed again and again, each swirl drawing the mixture tighter toward the center in a glowing spiral of light and heat.

The hours dragged on, and still the rhythm didn’t falter.

The process was long, grindingly long, and mentally brutal.

Neither of them knew how much time had passed anymore.

But one thing was certain: they were near the end.

Baam!

The cauldron let out a muffled boom, and a shockwave rippled outward, vibrating the very air.

A fiery red glow surged out from the pot.

“It’s done!” the old man shouted, excitement threading through his voice.

A single slap of his palm silenced the explosion.

From within the cauldron, a pill floated gently upward and landed in his outstretched hand.

It glowed with a soft, fiery hue, strange runes etched across its surface like living veins.

“Seven stripes...” Klein breathed, eyes fixed on the pill with reverent awe. “A genuine tier-seven elixir.”

This wasn’t just another successful refinement, it was a milestone.

Even though he hadn’t done much more than observe, Klein had picked up more during this one session than he had in weeks of study.

Then, without missing a beat, he shifted slightly, rubbing the side of his neck and muttering, “Go on then. Give it to her, old man.”

He tried to make it sound casual, like it was no big deal.

The old man narrowed his eyes but said nothing at first.

His gaze flicked toward the woman still lying there, her body encased in a lingering frost.

The chilling aura around her hadn't lessened even a bit. He frowned, then turned back to Klein with a pointed look.

“No no,” he said, shaking his head. “You should do the honors.”

He floated forward a bit, not even a full meter, and in that instant Klein instinctively took a sharp step back, his boots clicking softly against the ground.

They both stopped moving. Klein raised his hands like a shield. “Yeah, no. I’m not really in the mood to play hero today. She’s more your type anyway, old man.”

“Ah...” the old man tilted his head, giving him a long, unreadable look.

He sighed, dropping his head for a moment before lifting it again, his voice carrying a touch of reluctant resignation. “Okay... sure.”

He nodded to himself a few times, turned slightly, and tossed a glance at Klein. “But really,” he said, lips twitching into a smile, “you sure you wanna miss out on this chance?”

“Oh no,” Klein replied quickly, shaking his head with firm conviction. “Not me. Look at this face.”

He pointed at himself. “You think this is the kind of face that’s meant for saving sleeping beauties?”

"Hell, if the first thing she saw was this face after waking up, she would without a doubt 100% confirmed, kill me"

He paused, stealing a glance toward the woman’s impossibly perfect features.

Even then, he remained unmoved. “Nah, I’m good.”

“You know,” he added after a beat, “being alone isn’t that bad. Solitude’s got its own kind of charm, y’know?”

The old man sighed again. “Alright, alright.”

He floated closer to the icy woman, every movement slow and cautious.

As he reached her side, he extended his hand toward her mouth, then suddenly stopped.

Turning his head, he looked at Klein. “Mind helping me open her mouth?”

Klein blinked, momentarily confused. “Me? You mean me?”

“Yeah,” the old man said with a pitiful tone, leaning into the act, “I’m a little short on energy right now, you know... used it all up saving the two of us earlier...”

“Haih...” he groaned dramatically, rubbing his back like it ached with the weight of the world.

Klein sighed. “Okay... fine.”

Mize on the other hand almost cursed the two to death to hurry up. 'what's with the hesitation for?'