Snow

This might be the most peculiar alchemy furnace in existence. Its strangeness went beyond mere appearance. Unlike traditional furnaces, this cauldron defied the limitations of magic. With its assistance, even those unable to manipulate mana could, in theory, refine peerless elixirs - elixirs rivalling the creations of master healers - provided they possessed the necessary knowledge and skill.

The man sitting before the furnace embodied this very concept. His white hair and beard flowed like a snowy cascade, framing a face embossed with concentration. His entire focus was on the furnace, meticulously controlling the flames as they danced around a bubbling concoction - Pill of Regeneration.

The elixir held a peculiar power - it could only mend the frailties of mortals, and only at death's very doorstep, when age, not violence, claimed its due. The old man, his once-vigorous frame now a map of wrinkles, could feel the relentless tug of time. It was almost... comforting.

A hiss echoed through the room as the furnace lid burst open. A lone, pearly white pill shot out, landing with a soft thud on the waiting plate.

A bittersweet smile touched the old man's lips. His only disciple, Walter Skyfall's strength had reached its zenith, leaving his medical expertise superfluous.

His life's work, Walter Skyfall, was a testament to his genius. Few believed a mere mortal, armed only with elixirs and medical prowess, could cultivate a disciple of such caliber. Yet, Walter, now known throughout the land as Skyfall the Divine, had ascended to become one of the world's most formidable mages.

It was time to impart his true legacy to Walter now. With Walter's intellect, the old man envisioned him soaring as the most potent healer the world had ever known, defying the shackles of mortality itself and achieving immortality.

Satisfaction with his disciple had always warmed the old man's heart. He'd purposefully shielded Walter from the distractions of medicine, prioritizing his mana cultivation. But now, with the peak conquered, the time had come. Reaching into his robes, the old man retrieved a medical tome - a culmination of his three millennia of experience, a treasure beyond measure. Recently completed, it would be Walter's gift, a reward for his ascension.

Squeak!

The door swung open and a hulking figure filled the doorway - Skyfall the Divine, the old man's disciple.

A faint smile touched the old man's lips as he reached for the pill, his movements betraying his age. "Here you are, Walter," he rasped. "Ready to witness my transformation?"

Skyfall the Divine remained silent, his expression unreadable. A large hand shot out, the fingers closing firmly around the Pill of Regeneration before the old man could react.

"Walter, you are naughty again. Please return the Pill to your master. Your master is dying." The old man was breathing heavily. His voice hitched, each word a struggle against the suffocating grip of mortality.

Skyfall remained impassive, his gaze fixed on the Pill in his hand. "Three millennia, Master. A respectable lifespan, wouldn't you agree... for a mortal?" The words hung heavy in the air, devoid of warmth, laced with a chilling undercurrent.

A tremor ran through the old man's frail body. "What... what are you saying, Walter?" Dread coiled in his gut, a cold serpent squeezing the last vestiges of hope.

Skyfall's lips curled into a smirk, his eyes gleaming with a predatory light. "My dear Master," he purred, his voice dripping with false sympathy, "while even I, with all my divine power, must one day face the inevitable, you... a mere mortal... hold the key to defying death itself. How... *unfortunate* for you."

He leaned closer, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "But imagine, Master, the possibilities! If your genius could elevate me to such heights, think of what it could do for others. A legion of Skyfalls, each more powerful than the last... a force that could reshape the very fabric of existence. Wouldn't that be a legacy worthy of your name?"

With a swift, almost graceful movement, Skyfall snatched the medical tome from the old man's trembling hands. "Consider this my humble offering, Master," he said, his smirk widening. "A small token of appreciation for the power you have unwittingly bestowed upon me. Now, rest assured, your name will echo through the ages... but it will be my voice that carries it."

"Walter..." The old man's voice was barely a whisper, each syllable a struggle against the rising tide of despair. He stared at his apprentice, his eyes wide with disbelief. "All these years... I thought... you were my son." A bitter laugh escaped his lips, tinged with self-mockery. "How blind I've been."

Skyfall's voice dripped with cruel amusement. "How about this for a parting gift. I won't kill you with my own hands. I'll let nature run its cause, just as it does to everyone else." Then he swallowed the Pill of Regeneration with a grin, completely cutting off the old man's hope of living.

The weight of realization settled on the old man's chest. The book was his death warrant.

"Treacherous wretch! Treacherous wretch!" He cried out! But fury was a fleeting luxury. His life force dwindled, a candle flame flickering in a dying breeze. Skyfall watched the light dim in his master's eyes, a detached observer witnessing the inevitable.

Boom!

As the final spark expired, the alchemy room where the old man lived for most of his life, together with his body, were turned into powder under the terrifying pressure of Skyfall the Divine.

"Treacherous wretch!"

A guttural roar ripped Snow from his sleep. He bolted upright, a jolt of searing pain lancing through his body. His head throbbed as if his skull might split open. Disoriented, he gasped, "I ain't dead!" The dream - so vivid, so real - lingered, leaving a chilling uncertainty in its wake. Could it be a premonition?

But in the dream, he wasn't himself.

The old man lacked the ability to cultivate mana. Plus, everyone knew who Skyfall the Divine was, the headmaster of the Temple of High Heaven, the most powerful man on the known continent. So, Skyfall betrayed his master? A dangerous secret to possess, considering Skyfall's position and power.

A small hand grasped his, concern imprinted on a young face. "Brother? What's wrong?" Dreamy, his twelve-year-old sister, her voice barely a whisper, pleaded with him to calm down.

"Just a bad dream, is all," Snow mumbled, unsure who he was trying to convince, himself or her. Yet, the unease wouldn't dissipate. Then, a deluge of memories crashed into him - thirty lifetimes worth. Every detail of medical knowledge, every elixir formulation, everything the old man had poured into Walter Skyfall - surged through him, crystal clear and undeniable. He felt a melding, a terrifying sense of becoming the old man, inheriting his rage, his sorrow, and a burning desire for vengeance.

But what ability does he have to avenge this old man? Despite his lineage of mages, Snow lacked exceptional talent. Often ostracized and bullied by other children in the clan, he recently endured another humiliation. Larry Shadoway, the grandson of the Eighth Elder, along with his followers, mocked Snow and his sister. Initially calm, Snow flew into a rage upon hearing Dreamy insulted, only to be severely beaten by Larry's group. The attack left him with a cracked mana core and a fractured leg.

Witnessing her brother's distress, Dreamy, with a hopeful face, said, "Don't you worry none, brother. Momma's with the elders, she'll get you the Azure Wellspring for sure."

Snow's heart plummeted. Their family wasn't exactly well-liked within the Shadoway clan. Only the Chieftain treated them with a modicum of respect, and currently, he was in seclusion. All family matters rested on the shoulders of the elders.

Moreover, the Azure Wellspring, a true elixir, was an invaluable treasure for the Shadoway clan. Legend said that its formula came from the venerated 

Order of Azure Mountain. It seemed highly improbable that his mother would acquire the elixir. After all, why would any clan waste such a precious resource on someone deemed "useless"?

Suddenly, footsteps sounded outside the house, and Dreamy stood up in excitement. "Momma's back, she musta got the elixir."

Snow looked outside and saw a middle-aged woman with a haggard face walked in.

"Hey Snow, you are up?" Zoe said, her eyes a little dodgy when she saw Snow looking at her.