Mystic Eyes: My Eyes Steal the Laws of Cultivation

Chapter 628: Alchemy Competition Final (5)

The silence of the arena did not last long. As soon as the spiritual flames began to appear before the twenty-five finalists, the entire space was filled with the glow of different colors, a kaleidoscope of light that danced across the tables like an earthly aurora.

Red, blue, green, golden, and even black flames illuminated the workstations, each telling its own story, each revealing the personality and technique of its creator.

Each alchemist had their own method, a unique approach that had been developed and perfected over years, decades, and sometimes generations.

Some used fire directly inside the cauldron, the flames licking the metal with an intimacy that could only come from constant practice.

Others first extracted the essence from the herbs, refining them separately before combining them in a carefully choreographed dance.

There were those who controlled the flames with their hands, their fingers moving like musicians over an instrument, while others used special formations engraved directly into the cauldron itself, activating ancient patterns that glowed with a light of their own.

The final had truly begun, and the energy in the air was palpable, a tension stretched like a rope about to snap. Although three hours seemed like a long time, every second was precious, every moment an opportunity to advance or make a fatal mistake.

In sixth place along the circular row, a middle-aged man took a deep breath before beginning, his eyes closing for a moment as he centered his mind.

His name was Han Wei, and he was known for using a technique called the Nine Flames Method, an approach that required extraordinary control and a deep understanding of the thermal properties of each ingredient.

Nine small flames appeared around his cauldron, each possessing a different intensity, a specific temperature that varied along a precise scale.

The first flame was extremely weak, almost imperceptible, a spark that barely warmed the air around it. The second was slightly hotter, its light a more intense shade. The third increased again, and so on, in a progression that rose like a staircase of fire.

Han Wei believed that each herb possessed an ideal temperature for releasing its essence, an exact point at which its spiritual energy became more accessible.

Instead of controlling a single flame with extreme precision, which required a level of concentration that few possessed, he used nine different levels simultaneously, allowing each ingredient to find its own temperature without the need for constant adjustments.

It was a complicated method that required years of practice to master completely. The herbs were placed one after another, passing through the different temperature levels like travelers climbing a mountain.

First, a cold herb, whose essence was delicate and easily destroyed. Then, a root of neutral nature, which needed moderate heat to release its compounds. Next, an extremely hot flower, which only revealed its power when subjected to high temperatures.

Han Wei moved his fingers rapidly, controlling the nine flames as if they were extensions of his own hands, every movement precise, every adjustment calculated.

“Interesting…” Lio Han observed from afar, his eyes following the technique with the assessment of someone who had already seen many different approaches.

“He’s trying to compensate for the lack of information about the recipe through temperature. An intelligent strategy, but a risky one.”

The elder responsible for the competition nodded, his eyes fixed on Han Wei’s work.

“It’s an intelligent approach. Many alchemists underestimate the role of temperature in the refining process. He clearly isn’t one of them.”

His eyes, however, soon lost interest, a shadow of disappointment appearing in his expression.

“But he’s wrong.”

Lio Han smiled, a smile carrying the certainty of someone who had already predicted the outcome.

“The third herb?”

“Correct for another formula. Not for this one. He chose the right herb for a different recipe, but for this one, its function is not the same.”

Han Wei had no idea, his eyes fixed on his work, his concentration absolute. He continued refining, his technique flowing like a rehearsed dance. In his mind, the pieces were fitting together perfectly, each step leading to the next in a logical sequence.

But in reality, he had begun to move away from the original recipe starting with the third ingredient, a deviation that would become more pronounced with each stage.

Even so, his method produced a stable combination, a structure that, although different from what had been intended, was not inherently flawed.

If everything went well, he would probably be able to create a rank 5 pill of excellent quality, a result that many alchemists would consider a success. But not the one the Association had requested, not the rank 6 pill that was being evaluated.

At another table, a woman named Mei Rong used a completely different method, so distinct that it seemed to belong to another tradition. She had not even lit a flame, her cauldron remaining cold and dark. Instead, she placed a small circular formation on the table, its rune pattern glowing with a silvery light.

The formation shone brightly, and a white mist emerged within it, a cloud of energy that seemed to possess a life of its own. Mei Rong placed three leaves inside the mist and closed her eyes, her breathing becoming slow and regular.

“Extraction by condensation…” The elder murmured, recognizing the technique.

Lio Han watched with curiosity, his eyes following the process.

“She intends to extract the spiritual essence without destroying the medicinal properties. A method that preserves the integrity of the ingredients but is extremely slow.”

“Exactly.”

The leaves began to wither slowly, their spiritual energy being extracted and transformed into small green droplets that floated above the formation, each containing the purified essence of the plant. It was an extremely delicate method that required patience and keen perception.

Mei Rong had chosen herbs different from those expected in the recipe, a bold decision that could lead to success or failure.

However, her logic was not absurd; she was trying to reproduce the same effects using ingredients of a similar nature, replacing what she did not have with what might work.

Unfortunately, there was a fundamental difference that she had failed to perceive. Similar nature did not mean identical function.