Mystic Eyes: My Eyes Steal the Laws of Cultivation

Chapter 638: The Crown of Alchemy (4)

“That’s Kyrian.”

“So he really took first place?”

“I don’t believe it.”

“He finished before everyone else and started after almost everyone.”

“That’s absurd.”

“Perhaps his result isn’t as good as the fragrance made it seem.”

“How could it be better than Master Bai’s?”

“He’s too young!”

“Age doesn’t determine talent.”

“But experience matters! Master Bai has decades of experience in alchemy!”

“Are you saying he actually won?”

“I think so.”

The voices spread throughout the stands, a wave of speculation that grew with every passing second. Some were convinced, while others still refused to believe it.

“If Kyrian wins, it will be the biggest surprise of this competition.”

“It’s not just a surprise. It would be monstrous.”

“Such a young boy surpassing Master Bai?”

“I just want to know what the purity of his pill was.”

Kyrian heard everything, every word, every speculation. But he did not react. Inside, however, he felt a quiet satisfaction, a certainty that needed no external confirmation. He had done it, exactly as he had imagined. His alchemy ability was advancing, keeping pace with his growth in every other area.

This was important. The stronger he became, the more valuable the pills he needed would be. If he could produce higher-quality pills on his own, he could transform resources into cultivation much more efficiently, accelerating his progress.

The elder remained silent for a few seconds, the suspense stretching on like an eternity. Then he looked directly at Kyrian, his eyes meeting the violet ones.

“First place.”

The voice echoed throughout the arena, clear and unmistakable.

“Kyrian.”

For an instant, no one spoke, the shock paralyzing the crowd. Then the crowd exploded, a roar of applause, shouts, and exclamations that seemed to shake the very walls of the arena.

Kyrian slowly stood, his movements fluid and controlled. His expression remained calm, a tranquil lake amid the storm. He walked toward the stage, each step simple and direct, but to the spectators, this was the moment that would determine the outcome of the entire competition.

Kyrian climbed the steps, his footsteps firm. When he reached the top, he stopped before the elder, his posture upright, his violet eyes fixed on the old man.

The elder looked at him for several seconds, his eyes sweeping over his face with an assessment that was both respectful and curious. There was something different in his eyes, respect, curiosity, and a small measure of disbelief.

“Kyrian.”

The young man clasped his hands, a gesture of respect.

“Elder.”

The old man raised the bottle containing his three pills, the light reflecting off its jade surface.

“You have taken first place and won this competition.”

The arena fell into absolute silence, the breathing of tens of thousands of people suspended.

“During the reconstruction of the recipe, you correctly identified ten of the thirteen original herbs.”

Some spectators immediately began to murmur, their voices rising in speculation.

“Same as the other two. Then the difference lies in the purity.”

The elder continued, his voice maintaining its evaluative tone.

“However, you used fourteen herbs in total.”

The expressions of some finalists changed, their eyes widening.

“Fourteen? But the recipe had thirteen.”

“Did he add an extra herb?”

The elder shook his head slightly, a gesture that silenced the speculation.

“No. Three herbs were missing from the recipe you received. Kyrian was unable to reproduce those three herbs exactly.”

He raised one finger, emphasizing his words.

“Instead, he used four auxiliary herbs.”

The silence grew even deeper, the anticipation condensing in the air.

“These four herbs, when used together, produced effects extremely close to those of the three missing herbs. It was not a simple substitution; it was a creative reconstruction.”

Lio Han smiled, a smile carrying the satisfaction of someone who already knew. He had seen Kyrian work, had observed his unique approach, and knew that this was possible.

The elder in charge continued, his voice maintaining its tone of admiration.

“The choice was unconventional. In fact, many alchemists probably would not even consider this combination. It is the kind of solution that requires not only knowledge but also intuition.”

His eyes narrowed, fixed on Kyrian.

“But it worked.”

Some of the finalists became completely motionless, their faces frozen in expressions of shock. Master Bai, who had just returned to his position, turned his eyes toward Kyrian, his expression changing from surprise to a deeper evaluation. Luo Chen also watched him, his eyes shining with a light of admiration.

Neither of them spoke, but their eyes said everything.

The elder then opened the bottle, the jade lid moving away with a soft click.

“Kyrian refined three pills.”

A brief pause, the suspense stretching on.

“All of them are rank 5 pills.”

The tension in the arena reached its limit, every breath held.

The old man pronounced the final words slowly, each syllable carrying meaning.

“Ninety-five percent purity.”

Silence. One second. Two. Three. The shock paralyzed the crowd.

Then…

“What?! Ninety-five?!”

“That’s impossible!”

“Ninety-five percent purity?!”

“He surpassed Master Bai by more than ten percent! And with only ten correct herbs?!”

“No, he used fourteen! Four substitutes!”

“He compensated for missing ingredients with auxiliary herbs! What kind of understanding is that?!”

Even some of the alchemists present were visibly shaken, expressions of disbelief on their faces. Master Bai stared at Kyrian for several seconds, his face remaining calm, but his eyes had lost their previous tranquility, replaced by deep admiration. Luo Chen also remained silent, his mind processing what he had just heard.

He had considered his own result extraordinary, seventy-nine percent.

Then he had seen Master Bai achieve eighty-three. Now Kyrian had appeared with ninety-five. The difference was enormous, a gap that could hardly be ignored.

One of the finalists murmured, his voice low.

“Monster…”

Another swallowed hard, his throat dry.

“This isn’t just talent. It’s simply genius.”

A woman looked at Kyrian with a complex expression, her eyes sweeping over his youthful face.

“He looks barely fifteen…”

No one finished the sentence, but everyone understood. That young man was demonstrating an alchemical understanding that many had taken decades to achieve, an ability that defied logic.

The elder raised his voice, his voice echoing throughout the arena.