Boundless Cultivation-Chapter 66 - A Foolish Man

Alaric didn’t really regret experimenting with the muscle reforging process and The Molten Blood Elixir. There were merits to following a tried-and-tested method since it minimized the chances of making an error.

However, it was equally important to harness one’s curiosity and insight to maximize benefits rather than settle for average gains. The best approach when encountering an unexpected outcome during cultivation was to remain composed.

Gritting his teeth through the searing pain of the muscle reforging process, Alaric channeled a drop of his heart chakra energy to bolster his [Restorative Flow] skill. I just need to accelerate the healing.

The green healing energy flared, rapidly mending the muscle fibers just as fast as the Molten Blood Elixir tore them apart. The pain didn’t diminish, but he sensed that the process had reached an equilibrium — there was no risk of him losing control again.

Alaric surrendered control over the energy circulating within him—it was functioning autonomously now. Instead, he immersed himself in extracting every bit of insight available at the moment.

Time lost all meaning. He had no idea how long he had been engulfed in the process. When he finally regained awareness, his muscles, tendons, and ligaments throbbed with energy, as if they were a water-filled balloon on the verge of bursting.

And yet, he could also discern a newfound suppleness in his muscle fibers, tendons, and ligaments. His muscular system felt fuller and denser, and he realized he could ignite his strength almost instantly — a feat previously not possible.

The pain slowly diminished to a dull discomfort, leaving his body taut and stretched like a rubber band. Alaric grinned. Now, let’s see my gains and determine if the experiment was worth it.

Muscles, Tendons, and Ligaments Reforging:

Reforging Progress - 4%

Mana Infusion Potency - 5%

Alaric was pleasantly surprised. Yes, it was a success. He had managed to accelerate the reforging progress and improve the mana infusion potency by quite a lot. And, he could tell that reforging his muscles would now be far quicker than reforging his bones and blood.

Satisfied with his experimentation, he resolved to apply the energy of his chakras and his skills to the reforging of the rest of his body as well.

He wanted to get rid of the stench of the impurities and the dampness clinging to his clothes as soon as possible. But when he tried to stand, he felt completely powerless. Although his muscles weren’t wracked with pain, they were completely drained.

“Kid, you were dangerously close to wrecking yourself. I could practically feel the energy spiraling out of control inside you,” Edgar remarked. “But whatever you did, I suspect it was worth it.” He narrowed his eyes.

Alaric neither confirmed nor denied anything. He knew Edgar was eager to uncover how he had achieved this breakthrough, but he had no intention of sharing his methods.

“How long did it take?” Alaric asked, flexing his hands.

Edgar huffed when Alaric avoided his indirect question and extended a stick toward him, which Alaric snatched without hesitation. “Twice as long.” Without another word, they vanished, reappearing in Alaric’s room.

“You really sure you’ll be fine without me around?” Edgar asked.

Alaric grinned and flashed a thumbs-up. He had exciting plans for his next reforging sessions, and he would pursue them with or without Edgar’s presence. But first, he needed a long, hot bath.

With that thought in mind, he headed to the bathroom to scrub away the filthy odor and impurities clinging to his skin.

***

Alaric was on his way to the Argent Flask. Yesterday, after his muscle reforging session, he and Edgar had discussed what to do with the elite lava fiend’s core. Ultimately, Alaric had concluded long ago that the core was of no use to him at his current cultivation stage.

He wasn’t certain he wanted to delve into fire-elemental techniques, so it made more sense to trade the core for a reforging pill or elixir. Edgar has agreed with his decision.

The Argent Flask was one of the top alchemists’ guilds in the city, and it undoubtedly stocked high-quality body-reforging pills and elixirs. Of course, other reputable alchemist shops existed, but since he already knew Elisa, he figured he might be able to negotiate a discount.

He glanced over his shoulder at his escort, Rennard Vale. The man appeared to be in his early thirties, with a sharp nose, half-lidded eyes, and unkempt hair already streaked with gray at the sides.

Normally, Edgar would have been the one accompanying Alaric through the city—his safety couldn’t be left to chance, not with potential enemies lurking in the shadows. And although they hadn’t detected any signs of spying in the past two weeks, one could never be too careful.

Since the head butler was out of town, the Count had assigned Sergeant Rennard as Alaric’s temporary escort—though only for a short while. Alaric had never seen anyone wear such an expression of utter boredom.

The sergeant practically dragged himself, his steps lethargic as he trailed behind him through the city. If they stopped for a break, Alaric was almost certain the man would doze off on his feet. The thought made him chuckle.

He wasn’t bothered by Rennard’s indifference. In fact, he could sense the restrained power humming within the sergeant — a clear sign of competence. His father wouldn’t have entrusted him with this duty otherwise.

Upon arriving at The Argent Flask, Alaric gestured for Rennard to follow him inside. The sergeant, however, looked less than eager to enter the bustling store. Judging by his expression, he would have preferred to stand outside and keep watch.

But, of course, leaving his charge to roam alone would be reckless. With clear reluctance, Rennard sighed and stepped into the shop behind Alaric.

The store hummed with the sounds of chatter and hurried footsteps. A flurry of activity filled the space — customers inspected shelves lined with expensive elixirs, gleaming gems, exotic animal hides, finely crafted metalworks, and rare ingredients, while others queued impatiently at the counters.

You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.

Alaric’s mood soured a little when he failed to spot Elisa. Instead, unfamiliar faces occupied the receptionist’s desk. Oh, well. This will have to do. He could have returned later, but he suspected the Count wouldn’t approve of such a delay.

With that in mind, he stepped into line at the exchange counter. At his request, Rennard peeled away from his side, settling into a less crowded corner where he could still monitor him with ease.

There was no reason for the sergeant to stand in line alongside him. If trouble broke out, Rennard could reach him in a jiffy.

Within ten minutes, Alaric reached the front of the queue. The receptionist’s name tag read Jack. He greeted Alaric with a polite bow and a neutral tone, asking about the purpose of his visit. His face remained unreadable, clearly well-trained in keeping his composure while negotiating with customers.

Alaric retrieved the elite lava fiend’s core and placed it on the counter. For a brief moment, Jack’s eyebrows flicked upward, but he quickly masked his reaction and darted a glance at Alaric before lifting the core for inspection.

“This is a decent monster core,” Jack remarked, scrutinizing it through an optical device. “Where did you get it?”

Alaric smirked. It was obvious that Jack recognized the core’s true value but was deliberately downplaying it.Fine by me. But if you want this core, you’ll have to pay the right price.

He wasn’t particularly bothered by Jack’s tactics — this was just standard bargaining.

“This is a family treasure left by my grandfather,” Alaric declared, his smirk widening. “He told me I could fetch quite a few gold coins for it.”

Jack’s brows knitted together before his lips curled into a knowing smile. He didn’t believe a word of it. That was fine — Alaric had no reason to divulge how he actually acquired it.

“The core would have fetched a good price,” Jack remarked, casting Alaric a disdainful look, “if only it weren’t so old. I can give you ten gold for it.”

Oh, so that’s how you want to play it? That offer was less than half its true value.

Alaric simply grinned and extended his palm. “No problem,” he said lightly. “Hand it back. I’ll head over to The Emerald Crucible.”

The mention of their rival guild hit Jack like a punch to the gut. His expression twisted into a scowl. “Now, now. No need to rush. I’ll throw in two extra gold as a sign of our guild’s goodwill.”

Jack had clearly underestimated him, assuming he was just another clueless twelve-year-old with no grasp of rare monster core prices. Unfortunately for him, Alaric had done his research long before stepping into this negotiation.

Alaric shook his head and flexed his fingers. “No deal.”

Realizing he couldn’t sway Alaric, Jack resorted to a more underhanded tactic. “Now that I’ve thoroughly examined it, this core seems… familiar. In fact, it resembles a set that was stolen from our shop not long ago.” He loomed over Alaric, his scowl deepening. “Can you provide proof of ownership?”

Ordinarily, clients weren’t obligated to present proof unless they intended to sell an item. Even then, such verification was only demanded for valuables prone to counterfeiting or worth over 100 gold coins.

“I’m not selling it anymore,” Alaric stated flatly. “Now, I’d appreciate it if you returned my property.”

Jack lowered the core behind the counter, concealing it from view as he continued speaking. “Sir, our store policy doesn’t allow us to return suspected stolen goods, but…” He retrieved the core and placed it in Alaric’s hand. “I can see you’re from a noble family. Next time, don’t forget to bring proof of ownership.”

Now you’ve done it. Alaric had to admit — Jack was remarkably smooth. First, he’d introduced the stolen-goods ploy, hoping to rattle Alaric enough to divert his attention. Then, in the brief window when the core was hidden, he had swapped it using some kind of ability or artifact to craft a nearly perfect replica.

Unfortunately for him, Alaric saw through the deception instantly. The mana signature of the core Jack returned was completely different.

Alaric turned the fake core in his palm, smiling as he locked eyes with Jack. Leaning forward on the counter, he murmured, “Now, that’s interesting. I wonder how my Elite Lava Fiend’s core transformed into this third-rate fire gem.” He pressed his thumb against it, and a thin crack splintered across its surface.

Jack’s eyes bulged. Clearly, he hadn’t anticipated Alaric uncovering his fraud so quickly.

Updat𝒆d fr𝑜m freewebnøvel.com.

“Wha… what? Are you accusing me?” Jack’s gaze darted around the store, noticing other customers who had picked up on the situation and were now leaning in to listen.

His voice tightened with forced authority. “Sir, I must ask you to leave. You can’t go around throwing accusations without proof.”

Alaric had no doubt Jack had scammed many customers before him. Something needs to be done about this. Knowing Rennard was still watching, Alaric subtly gestured for him to approach.

“I’m not going anywhere without my property,” Alaric declared, his voice cool and unwavering. “And if you know what’s good for you, you’ll hand it over, apologize, and offer a small gift as a token of apology.”

Murmurs rippled through the store. Several customers exchanged glances, their expressions darkening with disapproval. Others shook their heads, some even whispering while gesturing toward Jack.

Negotiation was one thing — outright swindling was another.

Jack visibly stiffened under the weight of the growing scrutiny. Heh… You must be new at this.

“Nonsense!” Jack bellowed, veins bulging at his temples. “How dare you accuse me of theft?”

An older man — likely the store manager — hurried forward, his presence cutting through the rising tension before it escalated further. He gestured for everyone to calm down and return to their work.

Then, turning to Alaric, he introduced himself as Store Manager Kellan and inquired about the situation.

Alaric gave a concise account of what had transpired, which Jack vehemently denied. Kellan cast his subordinate a brief look of disappointment before masking his expression.

Alaric quickly picked up on their body language — it was obvious this wasn’t Jack’s first offense. In fact, their familiarity with each other suggested a deeper connection. If he had to guess, Jack was probably Kellan’s nephew.

Hmm… That would explain Elisa’s absence. If I’m right, this is a textbook case of nepotism.

“I apologize for the inconvenience, sir,” Kellan muttered, scratching his cheek. “But do you have any proof to support your accusation? If not, this could put you in legal trouble. I suggest we put this matter to rest.”

By now, Rennard had casually positioned himself behind Alaric, looking every bit the uninterested bystander.

Alaric smiled at his antics. “I’m not leaving without my property.”

At Kellan’s silent command, a store guard stepped forward, his posture tense as he loomed over Alaric in an attempt to intimidate him. However, hesitation flickered across the guard’s face. He was reluctant — possibly because Alaric was still just a child.

Despite Kellan’s repeated orders to “Show Alaric the way out,” the guard remained rooted to the spot, his forehead damp with sweat as his fingers fidgeted anxiously.

Several times, he leaned in, clearly wanting to whisper something to Kellan, but the store manager brushed him off, unwilling to listen.

That’s when Alaric caught the guard stealing glances at Rennard — who was now grinning broadly. Hmm..do they know each other? Alaric mused. That would certainly explain his reluctance.

With a deep sigh, Kellan rubbed his temple, clearly frustrated by the entire fiasco.

Jack, on the other hand, scoffed and took the initiative. “Useless guard,” he sneered. “You don’t even have the guts to handle a mere child.” Striding forward, Jack’s face contorted with irritation as he reached for Alaric’s collar. “I’ll handle this myself.”

The moment Jack attempted to grab Alaric’s collar, a flash of silver sliced through the air, followed by a sharp, wet sound.

A heartbeat later, Jack’s severed hand thudded to the floor, his clenched fist now nothing more than a twitching, bloodied stump.

His scream was swallowed by the collective cries of horror from the onlookers. He collapsed, writhing in agony as he clutched at his mutilated wrist, his wild eyes darting around in frantic confusion.

Renard made his presence known as he lazily crouched down to face Jack. “You’ve got some nerve, trying to choke the count’s son.” His smile widened, revealing sharp teeth. “The punishment for that is death.”

Jack’s gaze snapped to Alaric, realization flooding his face. “I… swear… I didn’t know, sir!” he shrieked, his voice cracking with panic.

“Oh… Didn’t I warn you already?” Rennard mused, tapping his chin. Then he chuckled. “Oops! My mistake.”