The hollow interior of the petrified ironwood trunk was dry, smelling of ancient tannin, cold ash, and sulfur residue.
Outside the jagged fissure in the wood, the green sulfur fog of the Great Mire Basin drifted through dead cypress roots, but inside, Ye Chen sat cross legged upon a flat slate stone.
Between his upturned palms, suspended in a sphere of transparent Yang heat, the fist sized emerald core of the Three Headed Mire Serpent melted into a dense, oily paste alongside three shredded stalks of five hundred year Blood Mire Ginseng.
HUUUUUUM.
The volatile herbal marrow and the beast venom fused under intense kinetic compression, releasing a wave of crimson and jade light that cast sharp shadows across the curved wood walls.
Ye Chen drew the refined liquid through his nostrils, pu
