I stood my ground as the three Grandmasters approached. Their expressions shifted from menacing to bewildered, then quickly to respectful.


    "Mr. Knight," the lead Grandmaster repeated, "is there a problem here?"


    Caleb''s vindictive smile froze on his face. His eyes darted between me and the Grandmasters with growing confusion.


    "No problem at all," I replied calmly. "Just settling an old debt."


    The lead Grandmaster nodded, then turned to Caleb with a stern gaze. "You summoned us to confront this man?"


    "I—yes, but I didn''t know—" Caleb stammered.


    "This is Liam Knight," the second Grandmaster interrupted. "The alchemist who just received a personal invitation from Elder Foster of the Celestial Apothecary Guild."


    The third Grandmaster shook his head disapprovingly at Caleb. "And you thought we would risk offending someone with such connections over your petty grievance?"


    Caleb''s face paled. "But he—"


    "Enough," the lead Grandmaster cut him off. "Our apologies, Mr. Knight. We were misinformed about the situation."


    I waved away their apology. "No harm done."


    As the Grandmasters departed, Caleb stood rigid, his face a mask of disbelief. I approached his booth once more, my voice low enough for only him to hear.


    "Your herbs were only the beginning, Caleb. I want everything on your table. Consider it interest on your debt."


    "Everything?" he hissed. "That''s worth a fortune!"


    I raised an eyebrow. "Would you prefer I discuss your dishonesty with the Grandmasters instead? Or perhaps Elder Foster would be interested to hear how you treat fellow alchemists."


    Caleb''s eyes flickered with hatred, but fear won out. Wordlessly, he began gathering his herbs into arge sack. When finished, he thrust it at me with trembling hands.


    "This isn''t over," he muttered.


    I took the sack, feeling its substantial weight. "For your sake, I hope it is."


    Walking away with Eamon beside me, I could feel Caleb''s re burning into my back.


    "That was unexpected," Eamonmented once we were out of earshot. "Since when do Grandmasters bow to alchemists?"


    "They don''t," I replied. "But Elder Foster''s endorsement carries weight, and these men are clearly connected to the Guild."


    Eamon eyed the bulging sack in my hands. "Quite the haul. Worth the trouble?"


    I nodded. "Some of these herbs are exactly what I need for my next batch of pills."


    "And the rest?"


    "Insurance," I said simply. "For whateveres next."


    ---


    Back at the hotel, I spread the confiscated herbs across the room''srge table. Thete afternoon sun streamed through the windows, illuminating the colorful assortment of leaves, roots, and flowers.


    "This is impressive," Eamon admitted, examining a particrly rare Golden Serpent Root. "That Thorne fellow may be dishonest, but he had good taste in herbs."


    I sorted the collection methodically, creating separate piles based on their properties. "Most of these are for enhancing spiritual perception. He was likely preparing for a breakthrough to the next level."


    "Well, his loss is your gain." Eamon stretched and moved toward the door. "I should check on my own acquisitions from today. Will you be joining me for dinnerter?"


    I shook my head, already absorbed in my categorization. "I need to inventory all of this first. Don''t wait for me."


    Once alone, I continued my work with focused precision. Among Caleb''s collection were several herbs I''d been searching for unsessfully. With these, I could refine pills that would elerate my cultivation significantly.


    Hours passed as I examined and stored each herb properly. Night had fallen by the time I finished, the room lit only by a singlemp.


    A soft knock at the door interrupted my concentration.


    I approached cautiously, sensing an unfamiliar energy on the other side. "Who is it?"


    "A potential friend," came a woman''s sultry voice.


    I frowned, my hand hesitating on the doorknob. After a moment''s deliberation, I opened the door.


    Standing in the dimly lit hallway was a strikingly beautiful woman with flowing dark hair and intelligent eyes. Her attire was modest but expensive, clinging to her curves in a way that was impossible to ignore.


    "Evelyn Norton," she introduced herself with a slight bow. "May Ie in?"


    I recognized the name immediately. Evelyn Norton was well-known throughout Havenwood City—a talented cultivator who had risen from humble origins through sheer determination and, if rumors were to be believed, strategic rtionships with powerful men.


    "It''s ratherte for a social call," I remarked, neither opening the door wider nor closing it.


    She smiled, revealing perfect teeth. "The best opportunities often arrive at unexpected hours, Mr. Knight."


    Against my better judgment, I stepped aside to let her enter.


    Evelyn glided into the room with practiced grace, her eyes quickly scanning the herbs stillid out on the table.


    "Impressive collection," shemented. "Though I suspect not all of these were acquired through conventional means."


    "What do you want, Miss Norton?" I asked directly, remaining near the door.


    She settled elegantly into a chair, crossing her legs. "I''ve heard interesting things about you today. A nobody who suddenly has Elder Foster of the Celestial Apothecary Guild singing his praises."


    "News travels fast," I observed.


    "In certain circles, faster than light." Her eyes held mine. "I make it my business to know when the bnce of power begins to shift."


    I leaned against the wall, keeping a cautious distance. "And you think I represent such a shift?"


    "I know potential when I see it." She leaned forward slightly, her voice dropping. "And I see it in you, Liam Knight."


    The air between us seemed to thicken. I noticed an unusual fragrance emanating from her—subtle but captivating, like mountain flowers after rain. Despite myself, I felt drawn to move closer.


    "You''re using some kind of attraction technique," I stated, forcing myself to remain in ce.


    Evelyn''s smile widened. "Very perceptive. Most men don''t even notice; they just follow their baser instincts." <mark ss="phantom-imprint">The a%u#t$hen*ti@c v&e!r+s!i%o+n& is on M.|*V|L$E@M!PY_&R-..</mark>


    "What do you really want?" I repeated, more firmly this time.


    She stood and approached me slowly. "An alliance, of sorts. I have resources, connections. You have raw talent and potential. Together, we could elerate each other''s ambitions."


    "And what would this alliance entail?" I asked, though I suspected the answer.


    Evelyn stopped directly in front of me, close enough that I could feel her warmth. "I think you know, Liam. Men and women have been forming mutually beneficial partnerships since time began."


    Her hand reached up to touch my face, but I caught her wrist before she made contact.


    "I''m not interested," I said simply.


    For a fleeting moment, surprise registered in her eyes—clearly, rejection was an unfamiliar experience. Then she recovered, a new respect entering her gaze.


    "Interesting," she murmured. "Your will is remarkably strong. Or perhaps..." Her eyes narrowed spectively. "Perhaps your heart is already given elsewhere?"


    An unbidden image of Isabelle shed through my mind—her determined expression as she''d defended me at the Ashworth estate, her vulnerability as I''d treated her illness, the warmth of her hand in mine.


    "My reasons are my own," I replied.


    Evelyn stepped back, studying me with newfound curiosity. "Most men sumb to my charm within moments. You''ve shown unusual resistance."


    I shrugged. "Perhaps your techniques need refinement."


    Sheughed, a genuine sound that transformed her calcted beauty into something more approachable. "Oh, they''re quite refined, I assure you. Here, let me show you something."


    From within her robes, she withdrew a small jade box. Opening it revealed a dark, pulsating object about the size of a plum.


    "Do you know what this is?" she asked.


    I leaned closer, my eyes widening in recognition. "A Demonic Beast Core. Grade three, possibly even four."


    She nodded approvingly. "Grade four, yes. Very rare, especially in Havenwood City."


    "How did you acquire it?" I asked, unable to hide my interest. Such cores were invaluable for certain advanced pill formtions.


    "That''s not important," she replied. "What matters is what I''ve done with one like it." She touched her chest lightly. "I consumed one, years ago. It''s the source of my charm, my allure."


    I stepped back instinctively. "You consumed a Demonic Beast Core? That''s extremely dangerous. Most people who attempt it die horribly."


    "Most people," she agreed with a slight smile. "But those who seed gain tremendous advantages. My natural maism, enhanced perception, elerated cultivation—all benefits of that risk."


    I considered her words carefully. If she truly had sessfully integrated a Demonic Beast Core, it exined her unusual aura and the potent attraction technique she wielded.


    "Why are you telling me this?" I asked.


    "Because I''m offering you this core," she replied, holding out the box. "Consider it an investment in our future cooperation."


    I made no move to take it. "And what would you expect in return?"


    "Nothing immediate," she said. "Just the promise that when you rise to prominence—and you will, Liam Knight—you''ll remember who saw your potential first."


    I studied her face, searching for deception. "That''s a valuable gift for such a vague promise."


    Evelyn shrugged elegantly. "I''ve survived this long by making calcted risks. Supporting you now, when others still underestimate you, could yield considerable returnster."


    "And if I never achieve this prominence you predict?"


    "Then I''ve lost a core," she replied simply. "But I don''t think that will happen."


    Her confidence waspelling. Still, caution held me back. "Why me specifically? There are established masters who could offer you immediate advantages."


    Something shifted in her expression—a brief glimpse of vulnerability beneath the calcted exterior.


    "Because I''m tired of being used," she admitted quietly. "Men like Reginald Talbot and the other established powers—they take what they want from women like me, offering empty promises in return."


    For the first time since she entered, I saw past her practiced facade to the determined woman beneath—someone who, like me, was fighting to rise in a world stacked against her.


    "Comparatively," she continued, her voice strengthening, "investing in a stock with potential is the better choice – what if someday, you also be part of a Great Family?"