SUPREME ARCH-MAGUS

Three days had passed since Kent's stunning victory in the Honour Justice Fight, and the Frost Nation was abuzz with his name.

The visuals of the justice fight were still spreading among Public and official Forums. Many other nations were seriously analyzing Kent's strength. As the Trident Summit is coming up, everyone became shaken and alert with the sudden appearance of a powerful figure.

In the royal palace, the atmosphere had shifted dramatically. Servants whispered stories of how close they were to Kent, boasting of imaginary conversations and secret exchanges with the outsiders, each tale more extravagant than the last. The public grew increasingly curious as these rumors swirled through the capital, painting Kent as some mythical figure.

Within the royal walls, King Ragnar had announced his bold decision to use the wealth received from the Doom family for the development of the nation's infrastructure, a decision that left many family members disheartened.

They had expected personal rewards or political favors, but instead, they were faced with the king's vision of the nation's future—a vision that prioritized progress over personal gain.

But none of that concerned Kent. To avoid the endless stream of relatives and opportunists who now treated him like royalty, he spent most of his time in the palace's backside herb garden.

Hidden away from prying eyes, Kent found solace among the greenery, where the delicate fragrances of rare plants and blossoms calmed his mind. It was here he was planning to master the Poison tome.

As the Herb Garden is well maintained with a great variety of herbs, Kent decided to use them to master the Poison tome.

Many people were trying to speak with Kent. But after seeing his focused state and guarding pets, no one dared to approach him.

The palace's head servant, Ghule, was cleaning Kent's room three times a day, ensuring nothing was disturbed in the slightest. It was a stark contrast to how he had treated Kent when he first arrived.

Now, every relative was supporting Lily's decision to bring Kent to the Frost family. Many were asking how she found him and how they both fell in love. Lily created a fake story to satisfy her curious relatives. But she never expected the story to spread throughout the capital in one night.

Meanwhile, in the quiet corners of the palace, Thea spent most of her time in her room. Guilt filled her heart, keeping her from facing Kent. She had grown up with him, and shared countless moments together. Yet, when the time came, she had pushed him away, coldly following the will of Madam Clark.

Now, every memory of her harsh words, of the moment she cast him out of the home, weighed heavy on her heart. She couldn't bear to look into Kent's eyes, knowing that despite her upbringing, she should have treated him better.

In the herb garden one evening…

Under the silver glow of the moon, Kent sat cross-legged and hovered in the sky, his expression focused and intense.

Before him, the massive Phoenix Cauldron stood like a goblet ready to fire, its surface glowing faintly in the moonlight. It was time to practice the basic poisons from the second part of the Poison Tome. Concocting any basic poison in the second part demanded an almost terrifying level of precision.

"The second part of this Poison Tome... how does anyone even master something that has a one percent success rate?"

The task before him was daunting. The first part of the poison tome had already been a challenge, but this? This was on another level entirely. More than three hundred ingredients were involved in each type of poison, and every measurement had to be exact. There was no room for even the slightest error.

Kent pulled out several rare herbs from his storage ring, his fingers deftly sorting through them. He took out a delicate phoenix feather, silverleaf roots, a bottle of venomous moonspore extract, and a piece of blackened serpent skin—all ingredients for a deadly concoction he was attempting to brew.

The poison he was aiming to create was called "Soulburn Lotus Venom Fire." It was said to be one of the deadliest poisons in the Tome, capable of reducing even a Spirit Realm warrior to ash within seconds.

He inhaled deeply and began the process, carefully grinding the phoenix feather into a fine powder. His hands moved with meticulous precision, but even so, the difficulty was immense.

The moonspore extract alone required him to drop exactly forty-seven drops into the cauldron, no more, no less. Each drop had to be uniform and fall precisely one second apart, or the entire mixture would fail.

"Only thirty-two before you have mastered the Tome. None survived." As he worked, his mind wandered back to the Poison God's warning:

Shaking off the thought, Kent focused on the burning cauldron as it emitted a scorching heat, its energy swirling in harmony with the rare herbs inside.

The concoction was nearing its most critical point, where the temperature needed to be raised exactly by three degrees within the next thirty seconds. One second too early or too late, and the mixture would become volatile.

He hovered his hand above the cauldron and, with a silent spell, increased the heat. The shimmering liquid inside shifted from pale blue to a deep violet, signaling the transformation had begun.

Kent watched, beads of sweat forming on his forehead. The cauldron hissed softly, and he whispered the final incantation to stabilize the poison's energy.

But as the violet hue deepened, Kent felt a sudden surge of chaotic energy from within the mixture. His heart raced. The ingredients were not blending as they should.
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He had been precise with everything—but the reaction was unpredictable. Was it the moonspore extract? The blackened serpent skin? Something was off.

Just as he was about to intervene, the cauldron flashed a bright crimson, and a thin wisp of smoke curled into the air. Kent's eyes widened. This wasn't supposed to happen.

He muttered a spell under his breath, cooling the cauldron instantly. The light faded, and the swirling energy within the Phoenix Cauldron calmed. Slowly, cautiously, he peered inside.

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