Vincy felt as though he had swallowed a molten coal. The Living Furnace in his dantian was no longer a dormant seed; it was a starving predator, and it was starting to gnaw on his very soul.
"The herbs, Olin! Now!" Vincy gasped, his skin beginning to emit a faint, shimmering heat haze.
Olin didn't waste time. He tossed three items onto the stone table: a Cool-Jade Root, a cluster of Cloud-Mist Berries, and a pinch of Ground Dragon-Bone. "The Jade Root is the base. It absorbs heat. The Berries provide the fluid. The Bone... that's the cage. If you don't bind them perfectly, the fire will just incinerate the ingredients before they can help you."
"Call the fire, Vincy. Push it to your fingertips," Piet commanded.
Vincy closed his eyes and shoved his Qi toward his palms. With a roar, the ochre Primeval Earth Fire erupted—not as a controlled medicinal flame, but as a violent, jagged tongue of heat. Before Vincy could even reach for the Cool-Jade Root, the sheer intensity of the blast turned the herb to grey ash.
"Too much!" Olin shouted, shielding his eyes. "You're trying to kill the ingredients, not cook them!"
Vincy fell to one knee, the back-surge of the failed attempt stinging his meridians. The hunger in his gut redoubled. He felt a terrifying hollowness growing in his chest as the fire demanded more fuel.
"Stop fighting the fire," Piet's voice was a cold splash of water in Vincy's heated mind. "The flame is a part of you now. You don't push it; you breathe it. Look at the vibration of the Dragon-Bone. Match it. If the fire is the sun, you must be the sky that holds it."
Vincy took a ragged breath. He ignored the pain and reached for the second set of herbs. This time, he didn't "push." He imagined the ochre fire as a flowing liquid, a golden honey that lived in his veins.
His movements became smoother, losing the frantic desperation of a novice. To Olin's amazement, the violet aura from the Secret Realm began to bleed back into Vincy's hands, acting as a buffer between the raw heat of the Primeval fire and the delicate herbs.
The Cool-Jade Root began to melt into a glowing, translucent green liquid. Vincy delicately introduced the Cloud-Mist Berries, turning the mixture into a swirling, frothing vapor. Finally, he added the Dragon-Bone dust.
"Seal it!" Olin whispered, leaning in so close his beard singed.
Vincy's hands moved in a complex, circular motion—a technique from the Archive that Piet had etched into his muscle memory. The ochre fire wrapped around the mixture like a golden ribbon, spinning faster and faster until the light condensed into a single, pearlescent sphere.
The Flame-Sating Pill sat on the table, pulsing with a gentle, cooling light. Without waiting, Vincy popped it into his mouth.
It didn't taste like medicine. It felt like a wave of arctic water crashing through his burning interior. As the pill dissolved, it didn't just replenish his Qi; it transformed. The medicinal essence flowed to his dantian and began to crystalize, forming a translucent, protective shell around the Living Furnace.
The internal "gnawing" stopped instantly. The fire was still there—he could feel its immense power vibrating behind the barrier—but it was no longer consuming him. It was contained, a captive sun waiting for its master's command.
Vincy let out a long, shuddering breath, his skin finally returning to its normal temperature. He looked at his hands, which were still stained with soot but steady.
"You did it," Seraphina said, her voice betraying a hint of genuine shock. "I've seen seniors at the Alchemist Hall spend months failing to manifest an internal seal."
Olin walked over and poked Vincy's stomach with a gnarled finger. "Extraordinary," he muttered. "The 'shell' is perfect. You've turned a death sentence into a battery. Tell me, boy... where did you learn that sealing rotation? That didn't look like anything from the Myriad School's scrapbooks."
Vincy looked at the heavy black sword still stuck in the floor and then back at the old alchemist. The secrets were piling up, and the woods were getting colder.