The shrill, rhythmic wailing struck the granite walls of the cliff incessantly, shattering the silence before the laboratory ruins.

  Pierce halted his task of extracting the sap from the Frenzy-Lure Blossoms and rubbed his aching temples. The rumors regarding the fey race were indeed accurate—they were not only natural masters of illusion and mischief but also a relentless source of high-frequency noise.

  Seeing the tiny creature tethered to his wrist continuing her sobbing, and even attempting to claw at the rock with her delicate nails, Pierce let out a helpless sigh. He reached into his Dimensional Pouch, his fingers sliding across the cold test tube racks, and finally retrieved a silver flower he had happened upon in the depths of the forest earlier—the Argent Mica Blossom.

  As he squeezed a drop of shimmering, silver-scented nectar into a cup, the piercing cries stopped abruptly.

  The Myriad Flower Fey’s nostrils twitched slightly, her emerald eyes still filled with tears, yet she involuntarily turned toward the source of the aroma. As a spiritual creature that fed on exotic nectar, the Argent Mica Blossom, which contained concentrated lunar energy, held a near-instinctive allure for her. Moreover, after the grueling struggle and failed escape of the previous night, her stomach was long since hollow.

  She stared intently at the cup, her small throat visibly contracting, before she seemingly remembered something called "Fey Pride." She let out a light snort and turned her head away with feigned arrogance.

  Do not think such crude bribery can make the great Myriad Flower Fey submit. Even if she died in this pile of stones, she would never touch the Great Demon King’s charity.

  Pierce remained undisturbed. With a calm expression, he retrieved two more Argent Mica Blossoms and squeezed all their essence into the cup.

  With the fall of the third drop of concentrated nectar, the air of the campsite became thick with a refreshing, sweet fragrance. The fey’s small frame trembled, and her gossamer wings began to vibrate at a high frequency due to extreme excitement.

  This Great Demon King... is actually this wealthy?

  In the wild, the habitat of the Argent Mica Blossom was extremely hidden and often guarded by dangerous mana-mutated insects. She would usually celebrate for days upon finding a single bloom, yet this human had produced three in an instant. She looked up at Pierce with unmistakable anticipation—perhaps, a fourth?

  "If you won't eat, I’ll take it back," Pierce remarked, moving to retract the cup.

  The fey, who had been maintaining her facade, leapt up like a startled kitten. She extended her slender, pale arms and gripped the rim of the metal cup—which was larger than her own body—looking at Pierce piteously, terrified he would truly change his mind.

  Pierce allowed a predictable smile to surface and slowly withdrew his hand.

  The author's narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

  Thus, the "proud" fey began to indulge herself in the cup. A moment later, she sat beside Pierce with a round little belly, her face radiating pure satisfaction. When she looked at Pierce again, the hostility in her eyes had dissipated, replaced by a pragmatism known as "if you can't beat them, join them."

  Following the Great Demon King seemed to offer a significant upgrade in her standard of living. As for that wretched crow... she cast a defiant glare at the distant Mistfeather, deciding that one day she would use the Great Demon King’s favor to avenge that earlier wing-strike.

  Mistfeather preened its iron-like feathers with cold detachment, offering no response.

  "Since you've eaten, it's time to perform your duty," Pierce said once her breathing had steadied, handing her a small porcelain vial. "I need Myriad-Bloom Nectar."

  The fey’s cheerful expression collapsed instantly. she wrinkled her small face, attempting to feign ignorance. But under Pierce’s darkening gaze and the threat of "starvation," she eventually walked toward the cup with great reluctance.

  Under Pierce’s strangely observant and slightly uncomfortable gaze, the fey reached into her mouth with a slender index finger and began to trigger a gag reflex.

  Gag—

  Pierce’s eye twitched slightly. This exquisite material, revered by initiates and priced at a minimum of 1 mana stone in the market, was produced in such a... visceral biological manner.

  However, when the layer of golden gelatin at the bottom of the cup began to emit a fragrance far surpassing any flower, his visual discomfort was rapidly replaced by desire. He inhaled; it felt as though he were placed in a phantasmal dream of a thousand blooming rare flowers. The faint stinging pain caused by overextending his Spirit vanished in an instant.

  This was the priceless Myriad-Bloom Nectar.

  Without hesitation, Pierce tilted his head back and swallowed the warm, jade-like liquid.

  A familiar but manifoldly more intense sensation of sublimation erupted from his stomach, surging up his spine to his consciousness. Amidst a thunderous resonance, Pierce felt his mind being pushed into an infinite height. The previously obscure Will-Runes became docile and clear in that instant.

  Thirty seconds later, he opened his eyes, and the latest status feedback flashed in his vision:

  Spirit: 46.58

  Physique: 21.57

  His Spirit attribute had leapt by 1.85 units in a single session! This increase surpassed the combined total of three Spirit-Arousing Flowers.

  "This rate of growth..." Pierce felt the mana flowing through his fingertips, his eyes filled with ambition. As long as he consumed it three or four more times, he could undeniably force a breakthrough to the Rank 3 Initiate threshold before the trials ended!

  He came back to his senses and found Valeria staring at him with a complex and bizarre expression.

  "When did you get back?" Pierce asked nonchalantly.

  "Right when she... 'produced' the nectar." Valeria’s lip twitched. She looked at the empty cup in Pierce’s hand, clearly undergoing a fierce internal struggle.

  Pierce didn't bother to explain. As long as such a treasure brought an ascent toward the truth, the method of acquisition was irrelevant to him. Just as he prepared to check the rankings again, a blinding, non-standard golden light erupted from his crystal bracelet.

  He looked down, his calm expression instantly sinking.

  At the top of the real-time leaderboard, his name was not only surrounded by a lavish golden border but was also followed by a line of eye-catching red text:

  This initiate holds the Myriad Flower Fey.

  "Shit."

  Pierce mentally offered his sincerest regards to the academy mentors who had devised these rules. This wasn't a point reward; it was a "Hunting Mark" forced upon him, visible to every one of the thousands of competitors on the island.

  He had intended to stay low, collect materials, and turn in the fey at the last moment. Now, in the eyes of everyone, he had become a mobile treasury worth 5000 points.

  For the next seven days, the true bloodbath was about to begin.