Sunlight streamed through the windows as Captain Steele struggled to his feet, pain etched across his face. The realization that he''d just attacked—and been effortlessly defeated by—someone far beyond his capabilities was dawning in his eyes.


    "How..." he gasped, clutching his ribcage. "My ribs..."


    I sighed, rising from my seat. I hadn''t meant to break his ribs, but his attack had forced my hand. "You''re fortunate that''s all that''s broken, Captain."


    Commander Keller stood frozen, his gaze darting between Steele and me. The tension in the room was palpable.


    "Mr. Knight, I had no idea..." Keller started, clearly reassessing everything he thought he knew about me.


    "Few do," I replied simply, approaching the injured captain. "May I?"


    Steele flinched away instinctively, then winced from the movement. Pride warred with pain on his face.


    "I''m not going to hurt you," I said. "I can ease your pain."


    After a moment''s hesitation, he gave a tight nod. I reached into my pocket and withdrew a small jade container, opening it to reveal several small, translucent pills that glowed with an inner light.


    "What is that?" Keller asked, stepping closer.


    Instead of answering, I ced the pill on my palm and extended my other hand above it. Concentrating, I summoned my spiritual fire—a dancing blue me that appeared above my fingertips. The room temperature rose instantly as the ethereal fire licked at the air.


    Both men''s eyes widened. Spiritual fire was rare enough; controlled spiritual fire was rarer still.


    I channeled the me down onto the pill, which absorbed it like a sponge drinks water. The pill pulsed once, twice, then began to glow with heightened intensity. <samp ss="ref-ac403c">This chapter''s true source is My Virtual Library Empire (*).</samp>


    "Soothing pill," I exined, handing it to the captain. "Enhanced with spiritual fire. It will repair minor fractures and dull the pain until you can receive proper treatment."


    Steele looked at the glowing pill, then at me. The arrogance had vanished from his eyes, reced by grudging respect. He took the pill and swallowed it without question.


    Almost immediately, his breathing eased. The pain lines around his mouth softened, and color returned to his face.


    "The pain... it''s nearly gone," he said with genuine surprise. He straightened cautiously, testing his mobility. "How is this possible? Even our Battle Zone''s top medical pills take hours to work."


    I smiled slightly. "It''s all in the refinement process. And the spiritual fire."


    Keller was staring at me with newfound understanding. "You''re not just a martial artist. You''re an alchemist as well."


    I nodded, resealing the jade container. "Among other things."


    Steele bowed deeply—a gesture that clearly cost him some pride. "Mr. Knight, I''ve misjudged you severely. Please ept my sincere apology."


    "Apology epted, Captain. Though perhaps next time, conduct your research before making usations."


    "There won''t be a next time," Keller interjected, his expression serious. "But Mr. Knight, this demonstration only reinforces why Chief Vance wants you in the Battle Zone. A martial artist of your caliber who can also produce medicinal pills of this quality... it''s unprecedented."


    I returned to my seat, motioning for them to do the same. "Commander, I understand your position, but my answer remains the same. I value my freedom too much."


    "The Battle Zone could offer you resources beyond imagination," Keller pressed. "Laboratories, rare ingredients, ancient texts—"


    "And expectations. Obligations. Chains," I countered evenly. "I''ve lived under others'' control before, Commander. Never again."


    Steele, now seated somewhat stiffly in his chair, studied me with new eyes. "You killed a Grandmaster, didn''t you? There were rumors..."


    I met his gaze steadily but offered no confirmation.


    Keller sighed heavily. "I respect your decision, Mr. Knight, though I''m duty-bound to inform the Chief. I suspect he won''t give up easily."


    "He''s wee to try convincing me," I replied with a slight smile. "But I''d advise against sending any more captains to test my patience."


    Steele actuallyughed at that, though it ended in a wince. "Message received."


    After they departed, I spent the evening practicing with my spiritual fire. The Traditional Medicine Conference was approaching, and I needed perfect control. The blue mes danced above my palm as I tried to modte their intensity, focusing on maintaining a steady burn.


    Too much power, and the mes surged wildly, nearly scorching my ceiling. Too little, and they flickered out entirely. Finding that perfect bnce was maddening.


    "Damn it," I muttered as the mes extinguished for the tenth time. The problem wasn''t power—I had plenty of that. It was finesse. Precision.


    I tried again, drawing the energy up slowly from my core. The blue fire bloomed in my palm, steady at first, then wavering as I attempted to shape it.


    Hours passed in this frustrating cycle until exhaustion forced me to stop. Tomorrow, I needed to consult with Anthony Harding about the conference. Perhaps he would have insights on controlling spiritual fire for public demonstrations.


    ---


    Morning arrived with golden sunlight and a cool breeze. After a quick breakfast, I headed to my Traditional Medicine factory, mentally listing the questions I needed to ask Anthony. The man might be entric, but his knowledge of ancient medicinal practices was unparalleled.


    As I approached the factory entrance, I stopped short. A group of five men stood waiting, and my mood instantly darkened when I recognized their leader.


    Daxon Johnson.


    His tall, lean figure was instantly recognizable, as was his perpetual smirk. The four men nking him were clearly bodyguards—bulky, alert, and radiating hostility.


    "Well, well," Daxon called out when he spotted me. "The great Liam Knight finally graces us with his presence."


    I approached slowly, keeping my expression neutral despite the irritation building inside me. "Daxon. To what do I owe this unexpected visit?"


    His smirk widened. "Can''t old friends catch up without an agenda?"


    "We were never friends," I replied coolly.


    "No?" He feigned hurt. "And here I thought we had such a special bond after you humiliated my family and stole our business opportunities."


    The bodyguards shifted their stances subtly, readying themselves for potential conflict. I ignored them, focusing entirely on Daxon.


    "If that''s how you remember it," I said, "then your memory is as wed as your business practices were."


    Daxon''s smirk faltered momentarily, reced by a sh of genuine anger before his practiced smile returned.


    "Always so clever with words," he said, taking a step closer. "But I''m not here to rehash the past. I''m here about the future—specifically, the Traditional Medicine Conference."


    That caught my attention. "What about it?"


    "Word is, you''re nning quite the demonstration. Something revolutionary." His eyes glinted with malice. "The Johnson family has also secured a presentation slot. Right after yours, in fact."


    I kept my face impassive, though internally, rm bells were ringing. "Congrattions. I wasn''t aware your family had any innovations worth sharing."


    "Oh, we do," he replied, his voice dropping lower. "In fact, I''d wager our presentation willpletely overshadow yours. Might even make yours look... obsolete."


    The implication was clear: somehow, Daxon had gotten information about my ns for the conference. But how? I''d been incredibly careful.


    "Bold ims require bold evidence," I said evenly. "I look forward to seeing what you''ve developed."


    Daxon leaned in closer, his voice barely above a whisper. "I know about the spiritual fire, Knight. And I know about the modified Soothing Pills you''ve created. Did you really think you were the only one with ess to ancient knowledge?"


    My blood ran cold. Those were details I''d shared with almost no one. The factory workers knew I was developing something, but not the specifics. Only Anthony and Mariana knew the full extent of my ns.


    Daxon stepped back, satisfaction evident in his expression. "Your face says it all. See you at the conference, Liam. It''s going to be... enlightening."


    As Daxon and his entourage turned to leave, my mind raced. There was only one exnation: someone close to me had betrayed my trust. But who? And more importantly, how much did the Johnsons really know?