For Vaidya Bhaskar, the world had become a different place. He returned to his infirmary after Amrit's departure, but the familiar scents of dried wolfsbane and ground moon-lotus no longer brought him comfort. They felt mundane, like children's toys in the face of a cosmic truth. He looked at his life's work—shelves lined with painstakingly crafted tinctures that could mend broken bones, salves that could close deep wounds, and pills that could soothe a fevered mind. For sixty years, he had been a master of mending what was broken.
But what he had just witnessed was not mending. It was alchemy of the soul.
He sat heavily on a stool, his mind replaying the sensation of his Prana flowing through Amrit's meridians. It was the memory of a craftsman touching a divine artifact. The seamlessness, the impossible perfection born from utter annihilation… it was a concept that shattered the very foundations of his medical understanding.
His astonishment, which had begun as a profound shock, was now crystallizing into something else entirely: unwavering conviction.
The stories of the founding kings and the primordial sages were filled with tales of men who defied the heavens, who remade their own destinies through sheer, indomitable will. They were stories he had always considered to be myths, grand allegories for perseverance. He now knew they were true. He had just touched the hand of a living legend in the making.
"A hegemon…" he murmured to the silent room. "A ruler destined not to govern, but to conquer."
His role in this grand epic, he realized, had suddenly changed. He was no longer just the royal physician tasked with keeping the royal family healthy. He was the witness to a genesis. And a witness had a duty. His duty was no longer just to heal, but to nurture. To provide the fertile soil in which this heaven-defying tree could grow.
A fire he hadn't felt since his youth ignited in his old eyes. He rose from his stool, his back straighter, his movements filled with a new purpose. He walked to the far corner of his infirmary, to a heavy ironwood cabinet that had remained locked for three decades. He produced a small, ornate iron key from a hidden pouch around his neck, a key no one else in the kingdom knew existed.
The lock clicked open with a puff of stale air. Inside the cabinet was a single item, resting on a bed of faded red silk. It was a small, intricately carved jade box, cool to the touch and humming with a dormant, potent life force.
He lifted the box with reverent hands. Inside lay a single, gnarled root, no larger than his thumb. It resembled a miniature, sleeping humanoid figure and pulsed with a faint, milky-white light. This was the Thousand-Year Spirit Ginseng, a treasure he had found by a stroke of immense fortune in his youth, in a hidden valley blessed by a spiritual stream. Its medicinal properties were the stuff of legend. It was said that it could not only heal any physical ailment but could also nourish the very essence of one's soul, solidifying the connection between the spiritual and physical forms.
He had been saving it for the King, for a day when His Majesty might attempt a perilous breakthrough to the next cultivation realm. He now knew that would be a waste. The King was a pillar of the kingdom, but Amrit… Amrit was the kingdom's future itself.
"To use this to merely push a cultivator from one realm to another is an insult to its spirit," Vaidya Bhaskar whispered to the glowing root. "Its true purpose is to fortify a foundation that is destined to support the heavens."
For the rest of the night, the Royal Infirmary was filled with the sounds of careful work. Vaidya Bhaskar did not sleep. He brought out his personal cauldron, a small, silver vessel passed down through his family for generations. With painstaking precision, he prepared the Spirit Ginseng, combining it with seven other rare and complementary herbs, each one a treasure in its own right. He did not brew a simple tincture; he undertook a complex alchemical process, using his own Prana to carefully guide the fusion of medicinal essences.
By the time the first rays of dawn painted the sky, a single, perfect pill lay cooling in the silver cauldron. It was the size of a pearl, milky-white in color, and seemed to glow from within. A faint, sweet fragrance emanated from it, a scent so pure and vitalizing that just inhaling it cleared the mind and soothed the spirit. He had poured all his skill, his energy, and his newfound conviction into its creation. He named it the "Soul-Anchor Pill."
Amrit awoke with the sun. He didn't feel the grogginess of sleep, only a seamless transition from a state of restful meditation to full, sharp awareness. The pearl of concentrated Prana in his dantian spun gently, a miniature sun radiating warmth and power through his entire being.
He rose and dressed in simple, dark training clothes. As he opened his door, the young servant girl from the previous night was waiting with a basin of warm water. She jumped when she saw him, her eyes wide, and nearly dropped the basin. She bowed low, her movements clumsy with nervous reverence.
"Y-Your Highness," she stammered. "Your breakfast is prepared in the small dining hall."
"Thank you," Amrit said, his voice calm. "But I will not be eating. Have it cleared."
He intended to head straight for the pavilions to begin his training. His time was limited, and his ambition was not. As he stepped into the corridor, however, he found his path blocked.
Vaidya Bhaskar stood waiting for him. The old physician looked exhausted, with dark circles under his eyes, but his gaze was bright and intense. He held the small, ornate jade box in both hands, presenting it as if it were a royal seal.
"Your Highness," he said, his voice low but firm. "Forgive my impertinence, but I must insist you accept this before you begin your training."
Amrit looked at the box, his senses immediately picking up on the incredible concentration of life force contained within. It was far more potent than any medicinal item he had ever encountered. "Vaidya? What is this?"
"Yesterday, I spoke of how you shattered your own foundation to rebuild it," the physician explained, his voice filled with sincerity. "Such an act, while heroic, puts an immense strain on the soul's anchor to its new vessel. It can create subtle dissonances that may become weaknesses later. I have spent the night concocting a pill from a Thousand-Year Spirit Ginseng. It will not increase your raw power, Your Highness. Instead, it will harmonize your soul with your body, solidify your transcendent foundation, and ensure that not a single flaw remains from your rebirth."
Amrit looked from the old physician's tired but resolute face to the precious box. He understood the unspoken message perfectly. This was more than just medicine. This was an offering. A pledge of allegiance. Vaidya Bhaskar had chosen his side. He was the first person in this vast, lonely palace to align with him not out of duty or fear, but out of genuine belief.
A flicker of warmth spread through Amrit's chest. "You have my gratitude, Vaidya," he said, accepting the box. "I will not forget this."
The physician's face broke into a relieved smile. He bowed deeply. "May it serve you well, Your Highness."
Amrit returned to his room for a moment and opened the box. The Soul-Anchor Pill rested inside, its gentle glow filling the room with a sense of peace and vitality. Without hesitation, he placed the pill in his mouth and swallowed.
It dissolved instantly, not into a liquid, but into a wave of pure, warm, spiritual energy. It bypassed his digestive system and flowed directly into every cell, every sinew, and every meridian. It was a gentle, soothing tide, washing over the pearl of Prana in his dantian and seeping into the very core of his soul.
He sat on his bed and focused his intent. Action: Assimilate the Soul-Anchor Pill.
[Consuming a Legendary-Grade Alchemical Product.]
[Target: Soul-Anchor Pill (Peak Quality).]
[Crit Chance detected… High due to the pill's perfect compatibility with Host's condition.]
[…Triggering a 100x Crit!]
The gentle tide of energy became a tsunami.
The 100x multiplied effect of the Thousand-Year Spirit Ginseng detonated within him. The spiritual energy, now impossibly vast and pure, didn't just harmonize his body and soul—it began a new, more profound transformation.
The pearl of Prana in his dantian began to absorb the spiritual energy, its golden light becoming tinged with a silvery, ethereal sheen. His bones, already forged to the peak of the Body Tempering realm, began to absorb this spiritual essence, gaining a jade-like luster and an otherworldly resilience. His very flesh and blood became suffused with this soul-force, making his physical body more than just a vessel for power, but an extension of his spirit.
His Spirit Sea Foundation, which had been a formless potential, began to solidify, taking on the faint shape of a tranquil, moonlit ocean within his consciousness.
The system's blue text flared in his mind.
[100x Crit has elevated the effects of the Soul-Anchor Pill to a transcendent level.]
[Host's foundation has been perfected beyond the limits of the Body Tempering Realm.]
[Special Constitution Acquired: Spirit-Tempered Body.]
[Spirit-Tempered Body Effects: Innate resistance to spiritual and mental attacks. Accelerated soul growth. Perfect unity of body and spirit, eliminating all future cultivation bottlenecks within the Mortal Realms.]
Amrit's eyes snapped open. A faint silver light swirled in their depths before fading. He felt… whole. The last, infinitesimal sense of disconnect between the soul of the Earth-born programmer and the body of the Viraatkshetra prince had vanished. He was one.
The power in his dantian was the same in quantity, but its quality had evolved once more. It was no longer just Prana; it was Spirit-Prana, a fusion of vital and soul energy that was far more potent and versatile.
He clenched his fist. The simple action felt different. He could feel the spiritual energy reinforcing his physical strength, a perfect fusion of two different forms of power.
The King had wanted him to become a sun. Vaidya Bhaskar, in his astonishing wisdom, had just given him the means to build his own solar system.
He stood up, a deep, genuine smile gracing his lips. The debt to the Royal Physician was now etched into his heart.
He walked out of his chambers, his steps silent. His destination was unchanged, but his state of being had been elevated to a new plane. He was ready. It was time to visit the Sword Pavilion.