Why Am I a Priestess When I Reach the Maximum Level? - [Vol. 6] Chapter 120

[Vol. 6] Chapter 120: Three Rooms

After leaving the secret room alone, the white-haired, aging youth stretched lazily, walking calmly through the hidden stronghold that the [Yokai Controlling Sect] had secretly built.

To guard against revenge from the Cangyun Mountain forces, it seemed they would need to relocate soon. Many of the [Yokai Controlling Sect] disciples were busy, but the youth appeared unconcerned.

As he walked, people in blue clothes hurriedly bowed their heads in respect, or perhaps out of fear, quickly averting their eyes from him. It was as if simply making eye contact with the [Apothecary] could be dangerous, like encountering a venomous poison.

Despite his appearance as a gentle and harmless man, always smiling politely at everyone who greeted him, there was a sense of dread that followed him.

“Mm… speaking of which, I’ve had quite a few losses recently. It’s time to replenish. I should go check on how preparations are going,” he murmured softly, almost inaudibly, before his footsteps shifted in direction as he headed toward a specific place.

Soon, the [Apothecary] arrived at a well-decorated room. It seemed to be his personal space within the stronghold. After closing the door, he moved toward a wall, casually pressing a few spots on a bookshelf. The stone wall rotated with a soft mechanical sound, revealing an even more secret space behind it.

As an [Apothecary], he naturally needed a private pharmacy.

The space before him was filled with neatly arranged jars and bottles, each labeled with precise writing. Several bundles of herbs had been carefully dried and placed by a ventilation opening. The [Apothecary] moved to collect and organize them, placing them into wooden boxes he had prepared.

Everything seemed like the normal work of an [Apothecary], as harmless as his outward demeanor.

Then, he moved to a secluded corner of the room and lifted a curtain that hid something. Behind it were several small, completely sealed-off compartments.

The [Apothecary] opened the first compartment, stepping inside.

A faint smell of blood immediately filled the air.

It wasn’t as if the compartment contained anything particularly horrifying or unsettling, like body parts, but rather, just a single corpse.

The [Apothecary]’s own corpse.

The corpse lay flat on a metallic table, completely bare, resembling a lab mouse waiting for dissection. A clear, straight wound pierced the center of the chest, directly through the heart, and burned it to ash. The heat was so intense that it scorched the surrounding muscles, bones, and skin, turning them into charred black remnants.

The [Apothecary] didn’t linger on the body that resembled his own. Instead, his attention shifted quickly to the golden spear beside the corpse. It was over two meters long, made of a transparent crystal-like material, and the [Apothecary]’s face lit up with admiration.

“Ah… truly a masterpiece.”

Like a man mesmerized by the smooth skin of a young woman, the [Apothecary] reached out and touched the spear. Despite the intense heat radiating from it, burning his palm to the point of blistering, he seemed unaware of the pain, lost in the sensation of its pure light.

“True Immortal… True Immortal… It’s truly a True Immortal. No wonder they can create such exquisite, flawless works of art. I wonder if I left a good impression on that immortal when we met… I’m both anxious and excited…”

“True Immortal… the ultimate mystery, the highest transcendence… How close it feels now… Hehehe… Hahaha!”

He muttered to himself, his expressions shifting from ecstatic joy to deep thought, and then to tension and confusion. His palm sizzled under the high heat emanating from the spear, making a sharp, painful sound.

“Enough.”

Suddenly, he lifted his hand and returned the spear to its place. Calmly, he took a porcelain vial from his chest and sprinkled medicinal powder onto his scorched palm. The blackened skin quickly peeled away, revealing soft, fresh skin beneath, smooth and tender like a child’s.

The [Apothecary] appeared thoughtful.

“Hmm… The timing isn’t right. True Immortals are no ordinary beings. With only the current methods at hand, I might not even have one in a thousand chances to reach them. I’ll have to think of more targeted methods.”

Soon, he left the compartment containing the corpse and moved on to the second one next door.

Inside, there was another [Apothecary].

This one wore a white robe, with no underclothing, sitting cross-legged on a bare platform, seemingly meditating. Scales, like those shed by snakes, surrounded the body, and his hair had mostly turned pale white. He remained unresponsive to the outside world, like an old monk in deep meditation.

The [Apothecary] circled around him a few times, unsure whether he was observing or evaluating something. After a short while, he nodded, but instead of speaking, he took a bowl of water from a wooden barrel in the corner of the compartment. He added a medicinal powder from his chest and stirred it until it mixed thoroughly.

Finally, the [Apothecary] used a small knife to cut his finger and dripped a few drops of his own blood into the already cloudy potion. The faint red color spread out in the murky liquid and quickly dissolved, disappearing without a trace.

After completing this, he placed the bowl containing the potion beside the other [Apothecary], but did not make him drink it. Instead, he turned and left the room.

Next, the [Apothecary] moved on to the third compartment. This one was different from the others. It was locked, and the door was marked with traces of a magical seal.

When he opened the door and stepped inside, faint cries of pleading and despair immediately reached his ears.

“Please spare me… please, [Apothecary]… I can’t take it anymore. If you have any mercy, just end it quickly, please…”

The person inside was a young man, appearing weary and haggard in his twenties. He wore the standard blue robes of the [Yokai Controlling Sect], and while his features were still handsome, the exhaustion and lifelessness in his eyes were impossible to hide.

He seemed completely drained, both mentally and physically, barely able to speak. He had no energy to resent the man who had mysteriously come after him and tortured him in this confined space for nearly a month. The person was the [Apothecary], someone he couldn’t oppose or retaliate against, a terrifying figure. Now, powerless, he could only weakly beg, hoping for the faintest chance that the [Apothecary] might show mercy.

But as usual, the [Apothecary] didn’t respond. He simply looked at the young man with the same cold, clinical gaze he used when observing the preparation of a potion, without any malice or compassion. He smiled slightly.

“Hmm, it seems it’s almost time.”

“What… what do you mean, [Apothecary]?” the young man asked, his voice weak and trembling.

The [Apothecary] shook his head with a smile and turned away. He went to the corner and fetched a bowl of water, adding the same medicinal powder as before. After mixing it thoroughly, he once again cut his finger, this time reopening a previously healed wound, and squeezed a few drops of dark, murky blood into the mixture.

“Drink this, and you’ll be free soon. I, the [Apothecary], give you my guarantee.”