Rebirth as a Demonic Cultivator: Starting with a Zombie Planet

Chapter 32: A Genuine Alchemist!

A day later.

Chu Xuan was in the middle of practicing his spells when an intoxicating fragrance washed over him. This wasn’t a scent that registered in the lungs—it bypassed the flesh entirely, sinking its hooks directly into the soul.

His eyes snapped open. A predatory grin spread across his face. He immediately sealed his nose and mouth with spiritual power and turned his gaze toward the Wolf King.

Sure enough, the previously budding Soul-Nourishing Flower had violently bloomed.

The Wolf King, having clung to a miserable, agonizing existence for over four months, finally went still. Its soul and remaining vitality were ruthlessly ripped away, consumed by the parasitic spiritual plant rooted in its flesh.

Visually, the Soul-Nourishing Flower was entirely unremarkable. It lacked vibrant colors or massive, glowing petals. To the naked eye, it looked no different from a common roadside weed. If not for the ethereal aroma that could bewitch a cultivator’s very soul, no one would ever look twice at it.

“One, two, three… a full six petals!”

Chu Xuan counted three times, genuine astonishment flickering in his eyes.

A standard Soul-Nourishing Flower grew two petals. Anything above four was incredibly rare. Even during the absolute peak of the Wuji Sect, when they cultivated these flowers in massive, blood-soaked gardens, they rarely saw anything past four petals.

To cultivate a six-petaled variant on his first try?

“It has to be the Heavenly Merit,” Chu Xuan murmured, his eyes gleaming with dark amusement.

The cosmic karma he had accrued from slaughtering tens of thousands of zombies was subtly bending the laws of probability in his favor. The Will of the Heavens truly rewarded a thorough, apocalyptic cleansing.

Without wasting a second, Chu Xuan drew a pair of small jade scissors. He carefully snipped the Soul-Nourishing Flower at the stem and sealed it within a pristine jade box.

Only then did the heavy stone of anxiety in his chest finally vanish.

The Soul-Nourishing Flower was a Foundation Establishment stage spiritual herb. This single six-petaled specimen contained enough raw potency to brew the medicinal liquid for three portions of the Foundation Building Blood Pill.

To the countless Qi Condensation stage Rogue Cultivators out there with mediocre talent, this flower wasn’t just a plant—it was a holy grail. It was the stepping stone to defying their mortal limits. If he tossed this into the Taiping Market right now, it would easily trigger a bloodbath and fetch over ten thousand small Spirit Stones.

With the primary ingredient secured, Chu Xuan moved with cold, methodical efficiency to process the auxiliary materials.

Some spiritual herbs needed to be bone-dry, stripped of all moisture. Others had to be ground into a fine powder to maximize their volatility. A few had toxic stems and shells, requiring him to violently crush them and extract only their pure juice.

He had memorized these brutal, exacting steps long ago. In less than an hour, the auxiliary materials were perfectly prepped.

Finally, he reached into his Storage Bag and solemnly withdrew a heavy, bronze-colored cauldron.

This was the Hundred Herbs Furnace, a tool he had acquired from another market. It was only a Middle Grade Magical Artifact, which normally wouldn’t cost more than two hundred small Spirit Stones. However, the intricate arrays required to forge an alchemy furnace drove the price up exponentially. This single furnace had bled him of nearly four hundred small Spirit Stones.

“Let the alchemy begin.”

Chu Xuan cracked his knuckles. With a flick of his wrist, he ignited a pile of spirit wood, sending a surge of blazing heat into the belly of the Hundred Herbs Furnace.

He wasn’t arrogant enough to attempt the Foundation Building Blood Pill on his first try. Instead, he opted for a standard Qi Condensation stage Pill to test the waters: the Rejuvenation Pill.

It was a staple consumable that rapidly accelerated wound healing. While Foundation Establishment cultivators preferred the Greater Rejuvenation Pill, its exorbitant cost meant many still relied on the basic version for minor injuries. It was the perfect, low-risk practice material.

Once the Hundred Herbs Furnace glowed cherry-red, Chu Xuan tossed in the three required spiritual herbs.

Halfway through the refinement, the flames suddenly flickered and died down. The medicinal liquid inside solidified prematurely. Despite Chu Xuan’s rapid attempts to salvage the batch with bursts of spiritual energy, the liquid calcified into a scorched, awkward lump of slag.

It was a toxic, semi-finished failure.

Chu Xuan didn’t even blink. Failure was simply the toll of progress. He scraped out the toxic slag, scoured the Hundred Herbs Furnace clean, and immediately started the second batch.

The second furnace failed.

Then the third. Then the fourth.

With every failure, Chu Xuan’s hands moved faster. His control over the flames grew tighter, his timing more precise. A lesser cultivator might have thrown a tantrum or succumbed to frustration after burning through so many resources.

But Chu Xuan was a pragmatist. He had anticipated this. That was exactly why he had prepared a staggering forty portions of Rejuvenation Pill materials.

He kept burning through them until the sixth furnace.

*Hum!*

Chu Xuan’s eyes lit up.

Pill success!

He pulled the Rejuvenation Pill from the furnace. It was pitted, uneven, and frankly ugly, but the medicinal aroma was undeniable. It was a success.

In that exact moment, a sudden spark of enlightenment pierced his mind. The cosmic karma of the heavens gently guiding his intuition. He seized that fleeting spark of insight and immediately fired up the furnace again.

Seventh furnace. Eighth furnace. Ninth furnace.

Three consecutive, flawless successes.

The Rejuvenation Pills that rolled out of the furnace this time were perfectly round, plump, and a deep, vibrant crimson. They radiated a refreshing, minty fragrance that cleared the mind. They were indistinguishable from the premium stock hoarded by the Wuji Sect—perhaps even a fraction better.

Chu Xuan let out a low laugh. The insight that had flooded his mind was a masterclass in heat control and spiritual fusion.

“Six failures, and I instantly grasp the profound truths of alchemy?” Chu Xuan smirked, admiring the crimson pills in his palm. “I suppose I’m a genuine alchemist now.”

It was a terrifyingly unfair advantage. The Heavenly Merit was practically a cheat code.

Riding the high, he didn’t stop to rest. He immediately pivoted to a new recipe: the Light Spirit Pill.

A staple for survival, this Pill made a cultivator’s body as light as a swallow, granting explosive speed for both hunting prey and fleeing predators.

The refinement process went even smoother than he expected. He failed the first batch, adjusted his flame control, and achieved a flawless success on the second.

For the next two days, Chu Xuan locked himself on the rooftop, churning out various Qi Condensation stage Pills like a machine.

By the end of the second day, his success rate had stabilized at a monstrous ninety percent.

It was an absurd, logic-defying metric. Even veteran Foundation Establishment stage alchemists would kill for a ninety percent success rate on basic Pills.

Yet Chu Xuan had achieved it.

*Just a little bit of Heavenly Merit, and a whole lot of my own relentless hard work,* he thought cynically.

Without pausing for breath, Chu Xuan rubbed his hands together. His eyes locked onto the jade box containing the Soul-Nourishing Flower. It was time to ride this wave of momentum straight to the peak.

“Foundation Building Blood Pill. Let’s do this.”

He forced his breathing to slow, locking his mind into a state of absolute, icy calm.

He only had three portions of materials. If he burned all three, his only path forward would be to consume Ouyang Hao’s standard Foundation Establishment Pill—a gamble with a notoriously low success rate. He refused to leave his advancement to chance.

First furnace.

Midway through the delicate refinement, the flames began to wane. Chu Xuan fed a sliver of spirit wood into the fire, but the flames violently flared out of control. In the blink of an eye, the precious medicinal liquid boiled over and scorched into a sticky, black mass glued to the bottom of the cauldron.

“Why didn’t the ancient cultivators design this Hundred Herbs Furnace with a non-stick coating?” Chu Xuan grumbled inwardly, scraping the ruined sludge out with a frown.

He didn’t let the failure shake him. He meticulously cleaned the furnace, adjusted his spiritual output, and initiated the second attempt.

This time, his focus was absolute. He navigated the volatile shifts in temperature flawlessly, guiding the violent energies of the blood and soul herbs into perfect harmony.

*Hum!*

A resonant vibration echoed from the bronze cauldron.

Pill success!

A rich, heavy aroma exploded across the rooftop, smelling faintly of iron and blooming flowers. Chu Xuan took a deep breath, and his heart hammered against his ribs. The sheer potency of the scent alone caused the blood in his veins to surge and accelerate.

“Succeeded? On the second try?”

Chu Xuan stared at the glowing, blood-red sphere resting at the bottom of the furnace, genuine surprise coloring his features.

He let out a dark, echoing chuckle. “I really am a genius who relies entirely on my own persistent effort.”