Pandora Unchained - a Cultivation Progression Fantasy

With less than a month remaining before the Shrine Descent, Sorin switched gears and began wholeheartedly preparing for their expedition. Practicing spells was a mind-numbing and time-consuming process; to date, he'd reached initial mastery in Patient Viper's Analysis and Veridian Spell Sword. Five Poison Apocalypse proved elusive despite his best efforts, forcing him to fork out money for an additional month's rental on the spell book.

This placed an uncomfortable burden on Sorin's finances. Therefore, he began mass-producing Emerald Bone Unsealing Tinctures for the clan and immediately invested those profits in poison research.

His first experiments involved health and mana potions. Normal mana potions—even the two-star versions— were slow-acting, and their cooldown periods were related not to toxins accumulating as he'd first suspected but to cell exhaustion instead. Their effects and acting speed were regulated because improving either of these factors was impossible without severe toxic effects.

This was not a problem for Sorin; as long as he was within arm's reach, he could easily resolve such trifling poisons and even benefit from consuming them.

Much research already existed on the topic, so it didn't take long for Sorin to manufacture poisonous health and mana potions. Hemotoxins were used to speed up the activity of health potions, while manatoxins were used to efficiently disperse mana potions into the mana circulation system.

His primary test subject after rigorous simulations was naturally Lawrence, who pointed out, after a few trials, that rapid poison-assisted regeneration of resources was extremely painful. Sorin was forced to incorporate neurotoxins to inhibit the pain, but in the end, he could only produce potions that were 50% more effective than normal and healed three times as fast. This was a game changer, according to Stephan and Daphne, but Sorin was unsatisfied, as the theoretical limit was twice as high.

Developing these poisonous potions also had fringe benefits. A few bouts of inspiration during the process eventually led him to master Five Poison Apocalypse, which relied on balancing five poisons in a complex ring around the originator and then purposefully destabilizing them.

Ironically, the reason for his difficulties was the same thing that allowed him to learn the spell efficiently in the first place: Serpentine Approximation. He discovered that the approximated runes were not exact and overlooked certain complicated interactions.

Once Sorin realized the crux of the issue, he was able to restrain his skill when it came to key runes and master them separately. He then recompiled the spell matrix so that it functioned more or less the same way. The main difference was that now the spell would strike him with backlash, just like the teleportation ability in his boots. A small price to pay for the spell's devastating nature.

With two weeks to go, Sorin switched his focus to poisons meant for his consumption. The first was a tonic poison, which incorporated all five types of poisons in a carefully balanced concoction blended according to Toxic Metabolisms' tolerance limit. Strictly speaking, adding Violence Extract would likely benefit the potion, but being wary of the corruption's mood-altering effects, Sorin held back.

Unfortunately, the second poison was an absolute failure. His initial intention was to create a berserk tonic that would temporarily increase his strength, speed, and reaction time, but in the end, he wasn't able to accomplish his goals without unacceptable backlash. While he could, strictly speaking, purchase illegal or restricted supplements, he avoided doing so for now, as such purchases might attract unwanted attention in the upcoming inquiry at the Medical Association.

This wasn't to say that his research bore no fruit. As a result of his ceaseless efforts, Sorin eventually managed to create his first C-Tier poison, a manatoxin that caused large-scale freezing in a creature's mana circulation system. Instead of eradicating a creature's mana reserves, it disabled their ability to use them, thereby compromising barriers, spells, and skills for a generous period.

While using it to break through two, the second stage of bone-forging was possible, but he held back due to the Shrine Descent. Only first-forging cultivators were allowed to participate. Moreover, Haley had insisted that all their efforts to date would not be wasted, and that they could easily catch up on breakthroughs later.

With less than a week to spare, Sorin decided that he had sufficient spare funds to purchase a premium piece of equipment. After an intense discussion with Gareth, he decided that his role in the party was gradually shifting from that of a flexible spell sword to that of a mobile damage dealer. Since he wasn't very good at dodging, upgrading his armor, which had mutated because of his breakthrough to Bone-Forging, was a priority.

Upgrading to anything less than S-Tier equipment was a waste for a hero, which was why Sorin found himself near the docks district for an appointment with a three-star leatherworker.

The docks smelled of rotten fish mingled with brine, made more complex by the smell of toxic adhesives originating from the local shipbuilding and repair facilities. The air also contained hints of sulfur, coal smoke, and leather treatment chemicals, the key ingredients used by the local blacksmiths and leatherworkers.

"Sanderson's Leather Outfitting," muttered Sorin as he approached the three-star leatherworker's shop. "It's just a coincidence, right? He wouldn't have some passionate cousin pursuing the same trade on the coast, would he?" His skepticism didn't last long after he opened the front door to find a shop that was nearly identical to the one he'd been to in the Bloodwood Outpost. It was twice as large and had more advanced inventory, but the overall mood and layout were virtually the same.

The shop also contained a bald man who looked 95% similar to Mr. Sanderson. He wore the same tight t-shirt that hugged his muscular body and accented his bulging biceps and veiny forearms. The only difference between the two was that this Mr. Sanderson had a thick brown mustache. He also sported a pair of twinkling violet studs on each ear.

"Greetings, adventurer," said the man. " I've never seen you before, but you have the smell of a hero. You're my ten o'clock, I presume?"

Sorin nodded as he looked over the shop with reminiscence. "I'm here to purchase a set of S-Tier leather armor in preparation for the Shrine Descent."

"You and every other hero in town, " said the man, grabbing a towel and wiping the sweat off his brow. "Give me five minutes, and I'll be right with you. I've got a premium piece of flesh I'm working on, and it'd be a shame if it turned out substandard."

Sorin watched on curiously as the man stroked the leather and whispered to it as he worked, much like Mr. Sanderson at the Bloodwood Outpost had. The main difference between the two was that unlike his counterpart, this Mr. Sanderson had reached the Flesh-Sanctification Realm. Judging by his aura, he could give the presiding elders a run for their money.

"Son, you look like you swallowed a frog," said Mr. Sanderson as he finally finished with the leather and cleaned up. "Just say what's on your mind. Also, would you like a cup of jasmine tea?"

"I—yes," said Sorin. "I'm sorry, I'm from the Bloodwood Outpost, and all this is all very strange."

"Ah," said the man knowingly. "That's my brother, who also goes by the name Mr. Sanderson. He's the underperforming member of our family. He's good at what he does, but his cultivation stalled, and he never made any further progress."

"There are more of you?" asked Sorin, fearing the answer.

"Just three of us," said Mr. Sanderson. "Although my cousins all go by the same name as well and have similar shops. There's at least one in every province, typically in the provincial capital. But if you want real masterworks, you'll need to go to my grandfather's shop in Olympia. He's the only leatherworker a demigod would ever trust with their armor.

"Now, let's see what we have to work with. Here's your tea." He'd somehow found time to brew a cup as he spoke.

Sorin accepted the cup and took out his current leather armor. "It's not that I dislike this armor. It's served me well, and I have nothing to complain about when it comes to craftsmanship. There's also sentimental value. You see, it's made from—"

"It's minotaur leather, degraded by death mana," cut in Mr. Sanderson. "An elite of their species, if I'm not mistaken. Ancient? A progenitor?"

"There's more than one Minotaur?" asked Sorin.

"They're a mythical species you sometimes encounter," answered Mr. Sanderson. "But this one's special. I can tell. Also… this armor. It's not the original armor. Its aura is mottled like two craftsmen worked on it.

"Let me guess. This was originally a set of Blood Drinker Armor or one of its variants. Your blood has special properties, which the armor took on. Then, when you broke through to Bone-Forging, it reacted with your new blood. It changed to become crappy E-Tier armor with barely enough strength to get you by."

"That's exactly what happened," said Sorin. "Unfortunately, it's not very effective once I fight anything past the second forging. Also, the blood-drinker effect isn't very strong at my current grade. Self-repairing capabilities are nice, but in my understanding, that's a common thing with two-star armor."

"So you want a replacement that has similar but stronger effects," concluded Mr. Sanderson. "You want flexible armor that self-repairs and is immune to your blood. How fond are you of the berserker effect? And how good is your regeneration?"

"S-Rank," confessed Sorin.

"Makes sense," said Mr. Sanderson. "If it were anyone else, I'd suggest replacing this suit. But in your case, I think we have a few more… pricier options we can consider. Pass me your Hero Medal, will you?" Sorin handed it over. "That's… a very large amount of silver light. I've never seen so much silver light in a first-forging cultivator's medallion. If you let me use a good half of it, I think I'll be able to make you something that even a two-star hero would happily wear."

Sorin was unsure of the value of silver light, but if there were a single piece of equipment he'd prioritize, it would be his armor. "What's your suggestion, Mr. Sanderson?" asked Sorin. "Although I have a fair bit of gold on hand, my funds aren't unlimited."

"But you're a two-star apothecary in the Kepler Clan, aren't you?" Mr. Sanderson asked. "Yes, you reek of medicine and poison. And that face. That handsome build. You… you wouldn't happen to have known the late Lorent Abberjay Kepler, would you?"

Sorin's body shook when he heard the name. "Lorent was my father. He was not the best father in existence, but he was a damn good physician. He taught me everything he could before passing."

"My condolences," said Mr. Sanderson. "And he wasn't just a damn good physician. He was also a brave adventurer. A good mage, or so I was told. One of the few that wore leather armor instead of flimsy robes. In fact, I have something to show you. How about I step out back to fetch it while you calm your jittery nerves?"

Sorin was surprised to see that Mr. Sanderson was correct. His emotions had grown violent, and the chair he was sitting on had half rotted away. Sorin retracted his poisons from the floor before he ate a hole in the man's workshop before methodically using the divinity in his mana and blood to re-seal his corruption.