Mystic Eyes: My Eyes Steal the Laws of Cultivation

Chapter 522: The Second Phase of The Alchemy Competition

The fourth day of the Celestial Descent Festival dawned just as lively as the previous ones.

The sun slowly rose above the horizon, painting the sky in shades of gold and crimson that announced another day of celebration.

The cool morning air carried the scent of damp earth and spiritual herbs, a combination Kyrian was already beginning to associate with the festival’s routine.

As soon as he left the Sky Caravan, Kyrian walked along the broad stone roads that connected the city to the immense arenas built specifically for the festival.

The path was familiar now, every curve and intersection engraved into his memory after four days of coming and going.

Even after four consecutive days of competition, the crowd’s enthusiasm had not diminished. On the contrary, it seemed to grow with each new day, as if the festival were a flame feeding upon the very energy of its participants and spectators. Every morning brought new expectations, new wagers, and new hopes.

Dozens of enormous arenas occupied a vast region at the foot of the Sky Caravan, stretching for miles in every direction. Each one was dedicated to a different art, some for battles between cultivators, others for formation masters, craftsmen, beast tamers, alchemists, and countless other professions.

It was an entire city built for competition, a testament to the festival’s grandeur.

Thousands… no. Millions of people filled the area. The grandstands resembled an endless ocean of faces, a human tide stretching as far as the eye could see.

The colors of their robes blended into a vibrant mosaic, reds, blues, greens, and golds, each shade representing a different family, sect, or region.

Shouts, laughter, and conversations blended together without pause, creating a chaotic symphony that embodied the very essence of the festival.

Some discussed the results of the previous day, analyzing every movement, every decision, and every technique. Others placed wagers, trying to predict which geniuses would advance to the next stages.

Vendors wandered through the stands offering spiritual beverages, skewers of demonic beast meat, sweets made from spiritual fruits, and countless snacks.

The entire place overflowed with life. It was impossible to remain indifferent before such an atmosphere; its contagious energy spread like a wave, embracing everyone present in its warm embrace.

Kyrian walked calmly through the crowd, his slender figure gliding between people with the ease that came from years of practice. His violet eyes swept across the surroundings, taking in every detail without truly lingering on anything.

Without much effort, he once again found the enormous alchemy competition arena. The structure was the same as on the previous days, a vast elevated platform surrounded by grandstands rising in successive tiers.

The main stage shone beneath the sunlight, its polished stone surfaces reflecting the light like mirrors.

When he entered, Kyrian noticed that he had arrived relatively early. Much of the grandstand was still empty, the seats waiting for the spectators to arrive. A few early risers had already settled in, speaking quietly or simply enjoying the view.

The participants were also arriving little by little. Some chatted in small groups, exchanging information about the previous trials.

Others remained silent, closing their eyes to adjust their mental state before the competition, their expressions filled with concentration.

Kyrian simply walked to his assigned position, recognizing the place where he had worked the previous day. The platform was individual, with enough space for an alchemist to work comfortably.

On top of it stood a medium-sized alchemy furnace, its polished bronze surface gleaming beneath the light. A stone table beside it provided space to organize ingredients and tools.

Small shelves held glass bottles, spatulas, filters, and other necessary equipment.

He calmly rested one hand on the furnace and waited, his eyes closed in light meditation. The metal was cold beneath his fingers, but he knew it would soon be heated by spiritual flames.

Time passed slowly, each minute seeming longer than the last. Little by little, more competitors arrived, taking their places with quiet efficiency.

Five hundred. Six hundred. Seven hundred. Everyone who had survived the previous day’s eliminations was now gathered at their respective stations. Each of them had already proven they possessed enough talent to pass the first selection, but now the true trial was about to begin.

Meanwhile, the grandstands also finished filling. The enormous space soon became completely packed, a human tide stretching as far as the eye could see. Curious gazes observed each of the young alchemists, evaluating their posture, expressions, and preparations.

At the highest point of the arena stood an elevated platform decorated with the symbols of the Alchemists Association.

There once again stood the same elder responsible for the previous day’s competition, his body thin and bent with age, yet his eyes as sharp as a falcon’s.

Around him remained several deacons and elders of the Alchemists Association, all dressed in ceremonial robes that shimmered with spiritual inscriptions. Their expressions were serious and professional as they evaluated every competitor with experienced eyes.

All of them silently observed the participants, waiting for the trial to begin.

A few moments later…

“Dooooong!”

The arena’s enormous bell echoed through the heavens, its deep sound spreading across the entire venue like a wave of bronze. The vibration seemed to shake the very air, instantly silencing the conversations and drawing everyone’s attention.

Silence descended upon the arena, as abrupt as the sound that had preceded it. Thousands of voices fell quiet at once, creating a silence that was almost tangible.

The old elder stepped forward, his frail figure seeming to occupy the entire platform. His gaze slowly swept across all seven hundred competitors, evaluating each one with precision.

A faint smile appeared on his face, softening the deep wrinkles etched into his skin.

“Congratulations.” Though calm, his voice reached every corner of the arena, amplified by spiritual formations.

“Surviving the elimination rounds means that all of you possess enough talent to be considered outstanding alchemists.”

Some participants subtly straightened their backs upon hearing those words, a glimmer of pride appearing in their eyes. It was a significant achievement, especially considering how many participants had been eliminated the day before.

The elder continued, his tone becoming somewhat more serious.

“However…” The word lingered in the air, heavy with meaning.

“The Celestial Descent Festival seeks truly capable alchemists. Not merely people who can memorize recipes, nor alchemists who simply repeat the knowledge left behind by the ancients without truly understanding it.”

His gaze became more piercing as it swept across every face present.

“We seek those who truly understand the essence of alchemy. Those who can look at an ingredient and know not only what it is but what it can become. Those who understand that alchemy is not a collection of rigid rules but a living art that is constantly evolving.”

He paused, allowing his words to settle.

“And that is precisely what this second stage will evaluate.”