The old man's voice was hoarse. There was no warmth in it, but neither was there scorn—only the faintest trace of interest.
Liam didn't respond immediately. He was still adjusting. The spiritual fog had faded, but the imprint of its temptations lingered like embers in his soul. He could feel it—the subtle warping of thoughts that tried to twist desire into delusion.
"I'm here to join the Green Mountain Sect," he said at last.
"Mmmhm. And the mountain has already sensed your interest, which is why you are standing here. But tell me, kid, why alchemy? You seem to have several options in front of you. Why choose alchemy?"
Was this also a part of the test? Liam was thinking about what to say since he might get booted out based on his answer. "I want to strengthen my foundation, and I am pursuing alchemy because it is the root of all creation, the flow of essence, the harmony of opposites, the laws that shape everything from a drop of poison to a divine elixir."
