Mystic Eyes: My Eyes Steal the Laws of Cultivation

Chapter 424: Alchemists’ Test (7)

Elder Sun slowly returned to his chair.

The wood creaked beneath his weight, a low sound, almost a groan, that echoed through the silence of the room. He was still observing Kyrian as if trying to comprehend something impossible. His eyes, once sharp and evaluative, were now fixed on the young man with an expression that mixed admiration and disbelief.

First test. Memory and comprehension. Passed with distinction.

Second test. Flame control. Passed with distinction.

Now only the final stage remained. The most important one. The stage that truly defined an alchemist.

Pill refinement.

Lio Han rose from his chair.

His robes, the dark green mantle embroidered with golden threads, swayed gently as he walked toward the enormous bronze cauldron at the center of the room.

The dark metal gleamed beneath the light of the formations, and the runes engraved on its surface pulsed in a slow, steady rhythm, as if the cauldron were alive.

He stopped beside it. Then looked at Kyrian.

”The final test. Your ability to truly refine pills.”

Kyrian nodded. It was exactly what he had expected.

Lio Han continued.

”You will refine a batch of Rank 5 Qi Gathering Pills.”

”The minimum requirement to pass is to produce at least three pills with purity above eighty-five percent.”

As he spoke, he brushed his hand across his spatial ring. Immediately, dozens of lights appeared. One after another.

Herbs. Roots. Spiritual fruits. Leaves. Flowers.

More than a hundred different materials appeared in the air, floating for a few seconds, slowly rotating, as if they were being displayed for evaluation.

Then they carefully settled on the floor before Kyrian. Forming an organized pile.

Kyrian observed the materials. Lio Han then explained.

”Not all of them are suitable. Not all of them possess sufficient quality.”

”You must select the appropriate ingredients. Choose the best materials.”

”Then refine them.”

He returned to his chair, his steps firm and controlled. He sat down and crossed his arms.

”And you have two hours to do so.”

The room fell silent.

Kyrian rose from the cushion, a fluid movement without haste. Without anxiety. Without nervousness.

His gaze swept across the pile of materials. More than a hundred.

For an ordinary alchemist, someone with standard training and average experience, that quantity would require several minutes of careful inspection.

Perhaps ten minutes. Perhaps more. But for Kyrian...

It was different. His eyes, the fire eyes, with their tiny flames dancing within the pupils, swept across the materials only once.

A single time. And he immediately saw the problem. Most of them were of poor quality.

Some fruits had been stored for too long, their skins shriveled, their flesh contracted, their spiritual Qi nearly dissipated.

Some herbs displayed tiny cracks, imperfections that allowed the gradual escape of their medicinal essence.

Others had lost part of their spiritual essence, and what remained was weak, diluted, and insufficient.

Others possessed accumulated impurities, dark spots, irregular textures, and strange odors.

They were not useless.

They could still be used for lower-rank pills or as secondary ingredients in simpler formulas.

But they were not suitable for producing perfect pills.

’They weren’t good enough.’

Quickly, with the efficiency of someone who had done this thousands of times, Kyrian began separating the materials.

One. Two. Three. Four. Five...

Thirteen.

In the end, only thirteen ingredients remained before him.

The thirteen are required for the Rank 5 Qi Gathering Pill formula. No more. No less.

Lio Han watched. Elder Sun watched as well.

Neither of them spoke. But both knew. The selection was correct.

Every chosen ingredient was the best available, the freshest, the purest, the most potent.

’Good eyesight.’ Lio Han thought.

’Extremely good.’

Kyrian observed the materials for a few seconds, his eyes moving across each one, recording every detail. Then his eyes narrowed slightly.

’Months ago...’ He thought.

He had refined Rank 5 Qi Gathering Pills. In the Blood Court. In his simple room.

’But back then... my understanding of fire was inferior.’

His understanding of fire was inferior. His control was inferior. His cultivation was inferior.

Now it was different. Very different.

’With my current understanding of the Path of Fire...’

’With my eyes...’

’With the Heavenly Bone...’

’There is no reason for me to fail. Perfect Rank 5 pills.’

’I should be able to refine them.’

A small flame appeared in his palm.

It was a deep orange flame. Like the core of a volcano. Then it flew beneath the cauldron.

The fire began to burn. Silently. Without explosions. Without spectacle. Without techniques. Without extravagant movements.

Only control. Pure control of fire.

Lio Han’s eyes narrowed.

”He truly doesn’t use any technique...” he murmured.

Elder Sun nodded. It was absurd.

Virtually every alchemist, from Rank 1 to Rank 9, used flame control techniques.

Techniques inherited from ancient masters. Techniques created by entire sects, developed over centuries.

Secret techniques, guarded closely and passed down only to selected disciples.

But not Kyrian. He simply controlled fire. As if fire were part of his own body.

The herbs began entering the cauldron. One by one. Without haste. In the exact order.

First, the Spiritual Gathering Root. Then the Hundred Streams Fruit. Then the Blue Mist Flower. Then the Leaves of the Wind Tree. Then the Falling Star Seeds.

The movements were precise. Surgical. Each ingredient entered exactly when it should.

Neither before, so it would not burn too early. Nor after, so it would not miss the fusion window.

Meanwhile...

The intensity of the flame changed constantly.

It rose for resilient materials. It diminished for delicate materials.

It shifted direction to heat specific areas of the cauldron. It changed temperature in precise, calculated, perfect cycles. It changed density, sometimes concentrated fire, sometimes diffused fire.

It was like watching an artist paint a masterpiece. Or a musician plays a perfect melody.

Lio Han began to frown.

”He’s refining the herbs individually within the same cauldron.”

Elder Sun’s eyes widened. He had noticed it as well.

Normally, ingredients were refined together. Mixed. Heated together. To simplify the process.

To reduce the amount of control required.

But not Kyrian. Every herb was receiving its own treatment. Its own temperature. Its own timing. Its own intensity. Its own position within the cauldron.

Even though they were all inside the same cauldron. It was monstrous control. Absurd. Practically impossible.

Yet it was happening right before their eyes.

The minutes passed. Five. Ten. Fifteen. Twenty.

Gradually, the herbs began to melt. Transforming into brilliant spiritual liquids.