Pure torrents of vital essence surged from deep within Fang Han's brow. As they twined around his fingertips, each stream compressed into a glowing pellet—a Yuan Infant Pill.
And not merely equal to Taiyi Sect's version. These were better. The tiny infant curled within each pill seemed to breathe—its pulse faint but present, the flow of mana giving it a hint of true life.
Watching Fang Han create pill after pill from thin air, Jialan and the others sat frozen in disbelief.
"This is impossible… absolutely impossible. Even the cleverest cook can't make a meal without grain…" Fang Qingxue muttered, shaking her head.
Every pill, no matter how crude or refined, required massive quantities of spiritual herbs, which then had to be purified in a pill furnace. Especially a Yuan Infant Pill—a human-grade supreme pellet. Without ingredients, even the greatest cultivator couldn't refine one. No ingredients meant no pill. Simple as that.
But Fang Han had just accomplished the impossible—cooking a feast without a single ingredient.
Of course, it wasn't truly from nothing. It was powered by the World Tree, drawing down the purest immortal essence of the Upper Realm. Only experts at the Longevity Realm could normally absorb such divine qi. It was the source of all vitality—vast, pristine, and perfect for pill forging. No purification needed. Pill refinement was merely the process of extracting an herb's essence and recombining it into a pill… but immortal qi was already pure essence.
Others collected herbs by the ton—thousands of pounds boiled down to a few drops of essence. Their furnaces roared day and night.
Fang Han? He merely waved a hand and siphoned a stream of immortal qi from the World Tree.
The difference was absurd.
In the sealed Taiyuan Immortal Mansion, the World Tree could only draw a trickle of spiritual qi—barely enough for Fang Han's own cultivation, much less pill forging.
But in the open world, with immortal qi pouring down like a waterfall, all the excess could be turned into Yuan Infant Pills.
After killing Yao Dian, Xia You, and Yu Fen, Fang Han had seized their treasures—including their Hundred Treasures Bags containing a complete method for refining Taiyi Sect's Yuan Infant Pills.
Taiyi's pills stabilized the foundation, refined one's core, and condensed blood essence into embryonic clusters—one of the best provisions for Qi Refiners. But refining them was painfully difficult. They required vast ingredients, meticulous technique, and were impossible to produce for an entire sect.
If Taiyi Sect could give every disciple a Yuan Infant Pill daily, they would have unified the Xuanhuang World ages ago.
Taiyi's disciples numbered in the millions—outer and inner sect together. One pill per day would mean millions a day. Even a true immortal wouldn't be able to keep up, nor would they ever stoop to such labor.
A sect's true strength wasn't its fancy techniques or how fearsome its leader was.
It was resources.
Just like a mortal empire's might depended on food and coin—well-fed soldiers grew strong. Hungry soldiers broke.
A cultivation sect worked the same: abundant supreme-grade pills meant rapid advancement for everyone. Every corner of the world proved this true.
Insight mattered, yes—but without fuel, no amount of enlightenment moved one forward. The world was material, and even the spirit required matter to anchor it.
Back in Taiyuan Immortal Mansion, the mysterious old man had long understood the truth: Fang Han's greatest treasure wasn't the Five-Prison King Cauldron, nor the Blood-Cangqiong Blade, nor even the Yellow Springs Diagram.
It was the World Tree.
"Senior Sister Qingxue," Fang Han said quietly, "Hua Tiandu holds the legacy of the Primordial Strength Immortal Lord. That alone makes him the center of the sect's future. Half his influence comes from personal power… the other half from the pills he distributes. People follow whoever feeds them.
"But now I can refine unlimited Yuan Infant Pills. I can gather followers, win hearts. He alone is too much for either of us to face—but the two of us together? Even Hua Tiandu would think twice."
Fang Qingxue stared at him, still stunned. Fang Han allowed himself a flicker of pride. She had come to trouble him earlier; now he would bind her to his side—locked firmly onto the same war chariot.
And indeed, with the two of them allied, not only would they rise within Yuhua Sect—they would be unstoppable anywhere.
"You can truly refine that many? There must be some limit," Jialan murmured. Her gaze sharpened—she, unlike the others, immediately sensed the flaw. "If it were infinite, this would break the world. Our sect would become number one overnight."
If Yuhua's tens of thousands of disciples each received a daily Yuan Infant Pill for ten years, the sect would spawn a thousand Divine Ability experts. The world would tremble.
Fang Han sighed inwardly. Jialan was as sharp as ever.
He calculated with his divine sense. Though the World Tree absorbed massive immortal qi each day, only a portion could be spared from his own cultivation. The rest could be compressed into pills.
Roughly three hundred.
"Three hundred and thirty-six Yuan Infant Pills per day."
"What!?"
Jialan, Fang Qingxue, and the other true disciples jolted upright.
Jialan immediately looked around in alarm. "To the pill chamber. Now. This must never be heard by anyone else. If this leaks, every immortal sect and demonic cult will hunt you down. What artifact did you get, Fang Han? How are you doing this?"
They entered the pill chamber and seated themselves around the Five-Prison King Cauldron.
Fang Han pressed his palms together. A chain of divine sigils burst from his fingers and sank into the cauldron.
The cauldron trembled—then the entire Reincarnation Peak shuddered with it. A portion of the mountainside collapsed, revealing a vast pit beneath.
A geyser of molten fire roared upward, flooding straight into the cauldron. The formation arrays carved into the cauldron began to hum and rotate.
Reincarnation Peak erupted with radiance. Wisps of light surged skyward. Air currents moved in rhythmic patterns. A pressure of invisible majesty rose into the heavens.
Fang Han had successfully drawn up the earth-fire of the mountain.
The elders who'd helped construct his peak had not built it casually. Beneath the mountain ran a channel that connected directly to the vast magma rivers under the earth. Earth-fire was pure essence—perfect for forging, refining, and anchoring formations.
With his divine sense, Fang Han followed the channel downward, glimpsing the endless sea of molten rock beneath the world.
"During emergencies, true disciples stationed at their peaks can draw earth-fire through their furnaces and summon fire dragons to battle," Jialan explained. She flicked a seal with her fingers, and the pillar of flame burst from the cauldron, twisting into a ten-meter fire serpent. It circled the peak three times before diving back into the furnace.
"The longer a disciple anchors their peak, the deeper their connection to the earth-fire, and the stronger their fire dragon. This isn't personal true qi—it's the mountain's power," another true disciple said.
She wore emerald-green eyes, faint flames dancing within them. Fang Han recognized the aura—the Seven-Flame Stone-Emerald Arts, a powerful fire-path technique. She was already at the Third Layer of the Divine Ability Realm—True Yuan Realm. A formidable figure.
Another of the three carried the weight of a mountain in her presence—dense, immovable, unmistakably the Mountain-Shaping Gang Qi of the Yin-Yang Stage.
The third disciple's gaze flashed like drawn steel—cultivator of the Grand Freedom Gold Sword Qi, no weaker than Stone Dragon.
No wonder they stood beside Jialan. These three were exceptional—elite among even the elite.
"These are Sisters Ye Piaoling, Luoshui, and Sha Qingmei," Jialan said. "Our master chose them to accompany me and Long Xuan to rescue you. The five of us formed a five-element cycle to assist Qingxue in channeling the Undying Lightning Talisman."
"I see." Fang Han nodded, then smiled. "In that case, each of you has earned my trust."
A surge of wooden essence condensed in his hand, forming a glowing book—another compilation of twenty-nine divine arts.
As the others studied the text, Fang Han quietly tossed the remnant of the demon god's severed hand into the cauldron.
The monstrous appendage would take years to refine into either pills or a treasure—three to ten years at least.
"So what now?" Jialan asked. "Three hundred and thirty-six pills a day is staggering. Will you simply give them away for free?"
"Of course not. We'll supply them first to those loyal to us. The Jialan Society, for instance." Fang Han's voice lowered. "Truthfully, I possess an artifact that draws immortal qi endlessly and condenses it into pills. Only the people here may know this."
"That's acceptable," Fang Qingxue finally said. "If this is your destiny, then so be it. I'll forget our earlier dispute. And I, too, can use these pills."
"Good," Fang Han said. "You and Jialan refine the demon god's hand. Give me ten days. Once I've stockpiled a large batch of Yuan Infant Pills, we'll distribute them carefully—win hearts, gather disciples, strengthen our foundation."
Boom.
Immortal qi poured down in waves.
Pill after pill emerged from Fang Han's hands.
And ten days later, when the first rewards were quietly distributed—
The entire Yuhua Sect erupted into an uproar.