Mystic Eyes: My Eyes Steal the Laws of Cultivation Chapter 634: Alchemy Competition Final (11)

One alchemist used extremely hot herbs, creating a pill with a more intense and spicy aroma, as if it carried the heat of the sun within it.

Another worked mainly with cold herbs, producing a refreshing fragrance that reminded one of the ice of the mountains.

A woman used an extremely delicate method, reducing the flame until it was almost extinguished before increasing the temperature again at exactly the right moment, a rhythm that seemed to follow the flow of her own breathing.

A middle-aged man attempted to use an aggressive technique, making the medicinal essence spin rapidly inside the cauldron, but his pill ended up with small imperfections on its surface. Even so, it was complete, a testament to his skill.

Another competitor chose a completely different combination of auxiliary herbs, risking an approach that others had avoided. The result was also a functional pill, although with a slightly different aroma.

One after another, the assistants crossed the arena, collecting the results in jade bottles. Some contained a single pill, others two, and others three. But all possessed similar characteristics; most of the pills displayed shades close to pink, and their aromas were also similar, like variations of the same melody.

To an ordinary cultivator, there was almost no difference. They all sensed only a pleasant medicinal fragrance, an aroma that soothed the senses.

But, to an experienced alchemist, the differences were obvious. One pill possessed greater stability, its internal structure more solid. Another had a purer essence, its impurities more thoroughly removed. Another concentrated, more energetic, and denser power. Another possessed a slightly more fragile structure, as if a strong blow could break it.

Two pills, however, were completely different from the others. They were blue. The spectators noticed immediately, voices rising in surprise.

"Blue?"

"Why are those two blue?"

"They must have used a different combination of herbs."

"Does that mean they’re wrong?"

"Not necessarily."

The elders also observed the two pills carefully, their eyes traveling across the bluish surface. Color alone did not determine quality; the result depended on the internal structure, purity, and stability. Even so, they were clearly different from the others, an anomaly that aroused curiosity.

Time continued to pass, the minutes turning into a countdown.

When a little more than half an hour remained, only a few participants were still working, their faces furrowed in concentration.

Some had already given up, their cauldrons cold, their hopes gone. Others had destroyed their essences during the process, their pills crumbling into ashes.

Some simply could not reconstruct the recipe correctly, their gaps too great to fill.

One finalist remained seated before a completely silent cauldron, staring at the remaining herbs. He had spent a long time trying to discover the correct sequence but had failed.

Another finally produced a medicinal mass, but it could not acquire the shape of a pill, remaining an amorphous substance.

As the time began to approach its end, it became clear that many would not finish. Only twelve participants had managed to form pills, twelve out of twenty-five, less than half.

The crowd began discussing the possible results, voices rising in speculation.

"I think Kyrian will win."

"I think so too."

"He finished first."

"But Master Bai has decades of experience."

"And that young man also finished very quickly."

"The first three produced much better aromas."

"I smelled all the others. They’re similar, but the first three are different."

"Which one is the best?"

"No one knows."

"The elders know."

"Of course they do. Look at them."

On the stage, the elders remained silent, their eyes fixed on the bottles being arranged on a jade table. The results would only begin to be compared after the conclusion, every detail examined with the precision of those who knew what to look for.

Kyrian continued sitting, calm. His eyes occasionally observed the other participants, but he showed no anxiety, only the patience of someone who had already done everything he could. His part was finished, and the rest was simply a matter of waiting.

The young man in the white robe also remained seated, his eyes fixed on a vague point in space. Master Bai had closed his eyes and seemed to be meditating, his breathing slow and steady.

The three top-ranked participants in the test, at least at that moment, remained completely tranquil, as if they were in a state of calm that transcended the competition.

Then.

’Dong...’

A huge spiritual bell began to ring, its deep sound sweeping across the entire arena.

The first strike echoed like thunder, and all the participants raised their heads, their eyes turning toward the stage.

’Dong...’

The second strike echoed even louder, a vibration that seemed to come from the very foundations of the arena. The spiritual flames began disappearing, one by one, like candles being extinguished. The assistants rushed to prevent any participant from continuing the refinement, their voices rising in warnings.

’Dong...’

The third strike rang out, and the sound passed through the stands, the walls, and even the sky above the Sky Caravan, an echo that seemed to stretch on forever.

The competition had ended.

Silence fell over the arena, an absolute silence that contrasted with the chaos that had preceded it. Twenty-five participants had entered that final, but only twelve had managed to form pills. And now, finally, the moment had arrived to discover who had produced the best result.

All eyes turned toward the stage, thousands of pairs of eyes fixed on the elders holding the jade bottles. Kyrian slowly stood up, his body relaxed, his eyes meeting the elder responsible for the competition.

The old man held the bottles containing the finalists’ pills, his fingers running over each one with the familiarity of someone who knew the value of what he held.

Beside him, Lio Han remained silent, his eyes traveling across the crowd with an anticipation he made no attempt to hide.

The expressions of the two were serious, but there was something different in Lio Han’s eyes, an evident expectation, as if he were about to witness something he had not seen in a very long time.

Kyrian narrowed his eyes slightly, his attention sharpening. From the way those two elders were examining the bottles, this evaluation would probably be far more interesting than he had imagined.