By the time the towers of Oxenfort City appeared on the horizon, Aren's legs felt like lead.
The journey east had taken three days instead of two. The forest gave way to rolling plains dotted with blackened stumps—evidence of past battles or careless cultivators testing their strength. The smell of smoke and metal thickened with every mile until the wind carried the faint clang of hammers and the distant hum of energy cores.
Mira perched on his shoulder, tail lazily swishing. "Welcome to the lowest rung of civilization," she said dryly. "Tier Two city. Big enough to pretend it matters, small enough to stay forgotten."
Aren squinted at the skyline. Iron spires jutted upward like jagged spears, each capped with crimson banners bearing the sigil of a flaming ox skull. The city's outer walls were black stone, pulsing faintly with red inscriptions—Qi-forged wards meant to repel beasts and raiders alike.
"Who rules here?" he asked.
"The Oxenfort Clan." Mira's tone carried distaste. "Metal affinity cultivators. Proud, stubborn, and loud. Their city runs on smoke and sweat—alchemy, forges, weapon shops. You'll blend in if you don't open your mouth."
"I'll keep that in mind."
The guards at the gate wore heavy armor etched with clan runes. Their auras pressed faintly on the air, mid-level Qi Foundation cultivators at least. One stepped forward as Aren approached, hand resting on the hilt of his spear.
"Name and purpose."
"Aren Vale," he said evenly. "Seeking an alchemist—Master Solen."
The guard's eyes flicked to Mira. "Pets aren't allowed past the gate."
Mira yawned, showing sharp teeth. "Try to stop me."
The guard blinked, took one involuntary step back, then muttered something about "mutant beasts" and waved them through.
Aren hid a grin as they passed under the archway.
Oxenfort was chaos made flesh.
The streets were packed with merchants hawking Qi Crystals, talismans, and shimmering pills displayed under glass. Steam rose from forges lining the main road, where shirtless smiths hammered glowing metal, each strike releasing sparks of condensed energy. Floating lanterns drifted overhead, powered by spirit cores. The entire city hummed with life—and danger.
"Stay alert," Mira murmured. "Most of the people here would sell their mothers for a Rank One Spirit Stone."
"I noticed."
They passed a group of children scrubbing the street beside a shop. One girl looked up, eyes hollow, and Aren's chest tightened. She reminded him too much of himself back in Crystal Mine.
He turned away.
"Over there," Mira said, pointing her tail toward a narrow alley flanked by runic symbols. "The Alchemist's Quarter. Solen's workshop should be deeper in."
Aren nodded and slipped into the alley. The noise of the city faded, replaced by the faint chime of glass vials and the sharp tang of herbs.
Dozens of small shops lined the path, each marked by colored smoke curling from vents. Crimson for fire pills, blue for healing tonics, green for poisons. At the far end stood a tall, crooked building with black tiles and a door shaped like a roaring furnace. The sign above read:
SOLEN'S ALCHEMY & ARTIFICE"We make miracles, but not cheaply."
Mira snorted. "Still a show-off."
Aren pushed the door open. A wave of heat and the smell of burning incense hit him. Inside, glass tubes bubbled with strange liquids, and shelves sagged beneath the weight of bottles, herbs, and powders.
At the center of it all stood an elderly man in white robes stained with ash. His beard was short and silver, his hands steady even as he poured molten essence into a narrow mold. His Qi filled the room—calm, controlled, and ancient.
He didn't look up when he spoke."I told you, Mira, if you wanted more pills, you could have sent a letter."
Aren blinked. "You knew we were coming?"
The man chuckled softly and finally turned. His eyes were pale blue, bright as lightning. "A phoenix flame in my city? The wards nearly melted. Of course I knew." He studied Aren for a long moment. "So. You survived the pendant."
Mira leapt onto a table, tail flicking. "Barely. The boy's inherited the Condemned Physique, same as his mother."
At that, Solen's expression darkened. "Lyria's child…" He shook his head slowly. "I warned her that legacy would draw Heaven's wrath."
Aren stepped forward. "You knew my mother?"
"I did. She saved my life once, long ago." Solen's gaze softened. "You have her eyes… and her recklessness."
He gestured toward a chair. "Sit, boy. Let's see how bad the damage is."
Aren obeyed. Solen placed his palm over Aren's chest, eyes closing. For a moment, the room filled with faint blue light. Then Solen drew back, frowning.
"Your meridians are scarred, but stable. You've opened three. Not bad for someone cursed."
Aren exhaled. "You can fix them?"
"Fix? No. The Condemned Physique isn't something to fix. It's a law of Heaven. But I can help you survive it." He turned, rummaging through a drawer. "There's a pill I once made for your mother—the Ember Root Pill. It stabilizes chaotic Qi flow."
Mira's ears perked. "You still have one?"
"I can make one. But the ingredients…" He looked up, meeting Aren's gaze. "You'll have to fetch them."
Aren didn't hesitate. "What do you need?"
Solen smiled faintly. "Brave. Foolish. Very much your mother's son." He pulled a piece of parchment from his sleeve, sketching three names in flowing script.
Ashvine Root — grows near fire veins.
Heartscale — from the scales of a Fire Serpent.
Spirit Dew — condensed mist from a Qi spring at dawn.
"Bring me these, and I'll make your pill."
Aren took the parchment carefully. "Where do I find them?"
"The forest beyond the Iron Gorge," Solen said. "Dangerous, even for cultivators. But if you want strength—"
"I'll go."
The alchemist nodded approvingly. "Then go before dawn tomorrow. The Spirit Dew forms only once per sunrise."
Mira leapt to Aren's shoulder. "We'll handle it. Try not to die before I get back with my next request, old man."
Solen chuckled. "You still owe me thirty Qi Crystals, cat."
"And you still owe me a favor," she purred, flicking her tail.
Aren turned to the door, then paused. "Master Solen… my mother—how did she die?"
The old man's eyes clouded. "She didn't. Not truly. The Heavens took her body, but her flame… lingers. You'll understand when you're strong enough to see it."
Aren swallowed, nodded once, and stepped back into the cold air of the city.
The sun was setting. The spires of Oxenfort glowed red like burning iron.
Mira looked up at him. "You really mean to hunt a Fire Serpent tomorrow?"
He smiled faintly. "If that's what it takes."
"Then you'd better get some sleep," she said. "Tomorrow, the real trial begins."
End of Chapter 6 – City of Smoke and Iron