Having experienced the effects of directly using Mortal Dust Qi, Jie Ming confirmed that neither he nor the Five Aggregates Rainbow Mirror could further utilize it for rapid enhancement in the short term. He thus began exploring alternative applications.
Due to its unique properties and accessibility, Mortal Dust Qi had been developed by cultivators into a near-universal material, second only to spiritual qi.
Beyond cultivation, nearly every branch of the hundred arts of immortality had techniques that could employ Mortal Dust Qi.
Its peculiar nature allowed small amounts to enhance oneself, while larger quantities could be used to attack enemies.
Even the most resolute cultivator, unprepared and suddenly exposed to a large amount of Mortal Dust Qi, would feel as if plunged into a cesspool.
When it came to unique applications, Jie Ming’s first thought was “alchemy.”
But before that, he needed to understand the characteristics of Mortal Dust Qi in its various “forms.”
He began by searching his golden finger, the Great Dao Book Pavilion, for special secret techniques capable of “transforming” Mortal Dust Qi.
One key reason Mortal Dust Qi was a universal material was its ability to change properties under the influence of various secret techniques.
The Great Dao Book Pavilion was vast as an ocean, containing countless techniques and concepts from immortal cultivation civilizations.Soon, he found a heterodox technique called the Hundred Transformations Heart Scripture, which detailed a method to convert demonic heart impurities into pure soul qi.
Though Mortal Dust Qi wasn’t demonic, its complex nature, imbued with intense mortal thoughts, shared similar principles.
Thus, some had experimented with applying it to Mortal Dust Qi, resulting in a new material.
Jie Ming spent several days deducing and practicing this secret technique.
Once proficient, he attempted to transform a strand of Mortal Dust Qi through specialized methods, shifting its energy from the chaotic “myriad mortal dust” to a pure substance that could nourish the soul.
As the transformed strand of Mortal Dust Qi flowed into his spiritual sea like a clear spring, Jie Ming immediately felt his soul being nurtured.
The sensation was gentle and soothing, like a tender massage deep within his soul, invigorating his spirit.
“Not bad,” Jie Ming muttered, though a trace of regret lingered in his expression.
This transformed Mortal Dust Qi had indeed lost its original intensity and negative effects, purely nourishing the soul.
However, its effect was merely average, comparable to standard spiritual materials.
With his current wealth, he could buy as many such materials as he wanted.
It seemed that, after transformation, Mortal Dust Qi lost its harmful effects but also its core ability to deeply cleanse the soul.
It became “safe” but lost its essential “trait.”
“Using it directly like this isn’t very valuable. I need a carrier,” Jie Ming quickly devised a new approach.
His gaze fell on a jade bottle beside him, containing crystal-clear Hundred Flowers Dew.
This conceptual material’s greatest trait was its ability to carry and harmonize.
Even adding it alone to potions could significantly increase their success rate.
More remarkably, even without other materials, continuously refining Hundred Flowers Dew could yield a spiritual liquid that stabilized one’s state, highly effective for cultivators with fluctuating souls or unstable minds.
Its greatest feature, however, was its ability to carry intangible, conceptual materials.
When Jie Ming previously refined soul-enhancing potions with Eastward Purple Qi, the primary base material was Hundred Flowers Dew, expensively acquired from the academy.
It could perfectly integrate conceptual forces like Eastward Purple Qi into potions and stabilize them.
Jie Ming experimented with refining the transformed Mortal Dust Qi with Hundred Flowers Dew. Benefiting from his experience with Eastward Purple Qi potions, the process went smoothly.
Half a day later, a bottle of potion, emitting a faint fragrance, successfully took shape in his hands.
He eagerly tested it.
As the potion entered his system, a gentle energy surged toward his soul, bringing a slight refreshing effect.
“Not bad,” Jie Ming assessed.
The potion’s effect was equivalent to adding another option for enhancing mental strength.
Its advantage was clear—low cost. Mortal Dust Qi was abundant, and Hundred Flowers Dew could be continuously produced by the Golden Garden, ensuring a steady supply.
However, for Jie Ming, its value was limited.
With his wealth, he already maxed out his use of auxiliary cultivation potions.
Whether for Qi Refinement or meditation techniques, absorption had its limits.
Even with a new potion, he couldn’t use much more than he already did.
For other wizards, this might be a thrilling discovery, adding a steady income stream, but for Jie Ming, it was a drop in the bucket.
“Safety and efficiency can’t coexist,” Jie Ming sighed lightly, recording the potion’s formula as a “backup plan.”
He pondered for a moment, his gaze returning to his experimental notes.
Since transforming Mortal Dust Qi stripped it of its core essence, further research in that direction was unnecessary.
He decided to focus on the raw Mortal Dust Qi instead.
Jie Ming took a deep breath, his eyes gleaming with fervor.
Drawing on numerous alchemical recipes from the Great Dao Book Pavilion that used Mortal Dust Qi as the primary ingredient, he began searching for suitable materials from the wizarding world based on his potion-making knowledge.
Considering Mortal Dust Qi’s unique nature, he primarily referenced immortal alchemy theories, using the principles of yin-yang and the five elements to balance auxiliary materials with Mortal Dust Qi’s properties.
After another half-month, Jie Ming successfully refined a bottle of potion that exuded a strange, aromatic fragrance tinged with a faint trace of mortal fireworks.
The potion’s color wasn’t pure but shimmered with a hazy, seven-colored halo, as if it condensed the myriad aspects of the world.
Yet, despite the hard-won potion, Jie Ming regretted that he couldn’t test its effects immediately.
One reason was that the fatigue from previously immersing his soul in Mortal Dust Qi hadn’t fully dissipated.
Soul recovery required time, and experiments of this level demanded utmost caution.
Better to be safe than sorry.
The other, more critical reason was that time was up—the apprentices participating in the planar trials were finally graduating.
Though Jie Ming and others who passed the academy trials didn’t need to immediately head to battlefields for Noren Workshop’s planar conquests, as a matter of courtesy and to receive final evaluations and rewards, all apprentices, regardless of performance, had to return to the academy for a graduation ceremony.
“I’ll have to test it after returning from the academy,” Jie Ming said, storing the potion, a glint of anticipation in his eyes.
He knew that if this potion succeeded, its value would far surpass any previous attempts.
It might even replace refined gold as his primary income source.
Stepping out of the underground laboratory, sunlight filtered through the garden’s plants, warm and bright.
A message came through his wizard artifact—Amy and Victor were waiting at the camp entrance.
“Jie Ming! Hurry up! Not just anyone can be late for the graduation ceremony!” Amy’s vibrant voice rang through the artifact.
Jie Ming chuckled, packed his research materials, and headed toward the spatial teleportation device leading to the camp.
…
Noren Academy No. 13—after months, Jie Ming set foot in this wizard apprentice training ground once more.
This time, however, the feeling was entirely different.
News of Jie Ming’s performance in the Elosia planar trial had spread like wildfire through Noren Academy No. 13.
Topping the contribution leaderboard, orchestrating faith corruption, indirectly enabling the capture of a deity, and earning priority selection rights for an entire plane—these astonishing feats circulated among apprentices like myths.
As Jie Ming, Amy, and Victor entered the academy’s main plaza, the scattered groups of whispering apprentices turned their gazes toward them in unison.
Those who recognized Jie Ming’s face were shocked, their eyes flashing with disbelief, then deep awe and complex emotions.
The whispers fell silent, replaced by an intangible, oppressive hush. Only a few bold ones cast curious, probing glances.
Even apprentices who had participated in the trials joined the silence.
This was their awe of the strong.
Only after Jie Ming passed did the discussions erupt again, more fervent than before.
“Look, you’re the academy’s star now,” Amy teased softly, her eyes mischievous.
Jie Ming merely smiled faintly, unbothered by the attention.
He knew that in the wizarding world, strength was the only currency.
The graduation ceremony was held in the academy’s central Void Hall. Unlike the elaborate rituals of the mortal world, Noren Workshop’s ceremony was simple and efficient.
In the hall’s center, dozens of mentors stood solemnly in their respective formations, awaiting their apprentices completing the apprentice phase.
No lengthy speeches, no sentimental farewells.
Yet, when the ceremony began, everyone couldn’t help but tense up.
Graduates were called by their mentors one by one to step forward.
In front of Mentor Clark’s formation, Jie Ming stood beside Amy and Victor, waiting.
When his name was called, he stepped forward calmly, approaching Mentor Clark.