Mystic Eyes: My Eyes Steal the Laws of Cultivation

Chapter 633: Alchemy Competition Final (10)

Lio Han did not speak, his eyes fixed on the pills. The elder also remained silent, his expression a mask of concentration. They would not announce the result, not yet. The test had not ended, and revealing the verdict ahead of time would be a violation of the rules.

Lio Han carefully removed the three pills from the cauldron, his fingers moving with the precision of a surgeon. He placed them inside a small jade bottle, the container glowing with a soft light.

‘Clink.’

The three pills touched the bottom of the container, a small sound that, to Kyrian, seemed to mark the end of his participation. Lio Han closed the bottle, his fingers screwing the lid shut with a care that bordered on reverence.

“We’ll talk later.”

Kyrian raised an eyebrow, curious.

“Later?”

“The result will be announced when the test is over.” Lio Han smiled, a smile that carried a promise.

“Until then, rest.”

Then he turned around, his steps firm.

“See you, Kyrian.”

Kyrian simply nodded, his voice calm.

“See you.”

The two elders returned to the stage, their steps slow and deliberate. The crowd became even more agitated, voices rising in speculation.

“So?”

“What was the result?”

“Why didn’t they announce it?”

“How many pills did he form?”

“Three!”

“Three?!”

“I saw them! There were three!”

“What rank?”

“No one knows!”

“Then why didn’t they say?”

“Because the test isn’t over yet.”

Kyrian ignored everything, sitting down again in front of his table. Now he only needed to wait, allowing time to do its work.

Meanwhile, the presence of the two elders beside his table had disturbed several participants. Some raised their heads, their eyes straying from their cauldrons in search of the source of the disturbance.

Others lost their concentration, their hands hesitating over the herbs. One alchemist even increased the flame too much because of the distraction, the fire rising dangerously.

‘BOOM!’

A small explosion occurred inside his cauldron, the essence spreading in a cloud of smoke. He quickly closed the lid, his eyes widening in alarm.

“Damn…”

Some spectators laughed, a merciless reaction to his mistake. Other participants, however, quickly regained their concentration, their eyes returning to their own cauldrons. The competition was not over yet, and every second was precious.

The first among the other finalists to complete the refinement was precisely the old man who had arrived last. Master Bai. For almost the entire test, he had worked with an almost irritating slowness, every movement calculated, every pause deliberate.

There were no wasted movements, no haste, only the calmness of someone who trusted in his own experience.

He had used a method completely different from the one employed by Kyrian. Instead of trying to reconstruct the recipe solely through the relationship between the properties of the herbs, Bai had used his accumulated experience to identify the missing ingredients.

He identified some of the herbs through their aroma, others through their texture, and others through the reaction they displayed when exposed to spiritual flame. His method was old and traditional but extremely refined, an approach that was only possible for someone with decades of practice.

When he finally opened the cauldron, an aroma similar to Kyrian’s spread throughout the arena. It was gentle, medicinal, and slightly sweet, a fragrance that conveyed a sensation of healing and renewal.

However, there was a fundamental difference. Bai’s aroma was deeper, warmer, as if it carried a greater amount of concentrated energy. It possessed a slightly heavier sensation, as if the pill were filled with a power that went beyond its appearance.

An assistant quickly approached and collected the pills, his movements efficient. Master Bai had formed three pills, each one a testament to his skill.

They were pinkish, but the tone was different; his pills possessed a reddish-pink coloration, much more intense than Kyrian’s, as if they were imbued with a denser energy.

The crowd immediately noticed, voices rising in comment.

“Another pill!”

“It’s Master Bai!”

“He also got three!”

“The smell is similar to Kyrian’s!”

“But it’s not the same.”

“Of course not. They must have used different methods.”

On the stage, the elder in charge watched the pills being carried away, his eyes narrowing.

‘He also found an extremely close solution.’

Master Bai had not reconstructed the recipe exactly, but he had come very close, his experience allowing him to fill the gaps with a precision that could only come from years of practice.

Shortly afterward, the young man in the white robe also finished, the youngest finalist after Kyrian. His method had been completely different from the other two.

Throughout the test, he had used a small crystal instrument to measure the properties of the herbs, turning the reconstruction of the recipe into a kind of calculation.

Each herb was analyzed with scientific precision, each reaction recorded in his mind, and each combination mentally tested before being placed into the cauldron. His method was methodical and rational, an approach that seemed more suited to an academic than an alchemist.

When he finally opened the container, a delicate aroma spread throughout the arena, also similar to that of the other two but possessing a fresher, lighter characteristic, an almost mint-like note mixed with the medicinal fragrance, like a spring breeze in an herb garden.

The assistant collected his three pills, which were pinkish but much lighter, almost a pale pink, as if they had been dyed by moonlight.

“He finished too!”

“The first three are the same!”

“Kyrian, Master Bai, and that young man!”

“All three produced three pills!”

“Then who won?”

“No one knows!”

On the stage, Lio Han watched silently, his gaze alternating between the three bottles. Kyrian, Master Bai, and the young alchemist, three completely different approaches, three paths that had converged toward a similar result.

That was exactly what made the test interesting; the same recipe could be understood in different ways, and the final quality would reveal who had truly understood the essence of the formula.

Time continued to pass, one hour, then another. The arena remained immersed in the sound of spiritual flames, the crackling of fire, and the clinking of tools filling the air. More and more participants began completing their pills, each with their own method, their own approach.

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