Mystic Eyes: My Eyes Steal the Laws of Cultivation

Chapter 629: Alchemy Competition Final (6)

One of the herbs he had chosen possessed compatible spiritual energy, but its medicinal essence reacted differently when subjected to the final refinement, creating an interaction that had not been anticipated in the original structure.

The elder noticed it immediately, his experienced eyes catching the subtle incompatibility.

“She’s close. Very close. But it still isn’t enough.”

Lio Han crossed his arms, his expression thoughtful.

“It still won’t be enough. She needs one more piece, something she hasn’t found.”

Farther away, a young man named Zhou Jian worked in an almost opposite manner. His approach, as aggressive as Mei Rong’s, was delicate. His method was extremely fast, a technique that prioritized speed over precision.

The golden flame inside his cauldron burned intensely, enveloping every ingredient almost simultaneously. Instead of refining the herbs individually, Zhou Jian placed them together and used his Qi to control the reactions internally, relying on his ability to manage multiple processes simultaneously.

It was a dangerous technique that few dared to attempt. A miscalculation could trigger a chain reaction that would destroy not only the cauldron but also the alchemist.

But it was also extremely fast, capable of producing results in a fraction of the time required by more conventional methods.

“He’s trying to save time.” Lio Han commented, recognizing the strategy.

The elder nodded, his expression cautious.

“He has enough control to prevent an explosion. At least for now.”

As if his words were a provocation to fate, Zhou Jian frowned, a wrinkle of concern appearing on his forehead. One of the herbs had released its essence too early, creating an imbalance that spread like wildfire. The golden flame trembled, its stability compromised.

“No!”

‘BOOOOM!’

The cauldron exploded, a wave of fire tearing through the barrier isolating the table. The defensive formations immediately lit up, absorbing the impact with a flash of light. Black smoke engulfed Zhou Jian’s station, spreading like a cloud of poison.

The young man coughed violently, his eyes watering.

‘Cough! Cough!’

Some laughter arose from the stands, a merciless reaction to his failure. Zhou Jian turned red, the humiliation burning hotter than the fire that had destroyed his work. His cauldron was completely destroyed, with fragments of metal scattered across the table.

The elder responsible for the competition sighed, a sound of disappointment.

“Eliminated.”

An assistant quickly approached to remove the remains of the cauldron, his movements efficient. Zhou Jian clenched his fists, his knuckles turning white, but he did not protest. A mistake of that magnitude could not be recovered from, and he knew it.

The fourth competitor who drew attention was an old man with gray hair named Mo Xuan, whose approach was as slow and methodical as Zhou Jian’s was fast. He used an extremely precise technique in which each herb was cut into exactly seven pieces, each one the same size, each one carefully positioned.

Then, each piece was refined individually, a blue flame surrounding the small fragments and removing impurities little by little. His method required an absurd amount of concentration, a level of focus that few alchemists could maintain for long periods.

“Seven Essence Separation Method.” Lio Han said, recognizing the ancient technique.

The elder nodded, his eyes following the meticulous work.

“An ancient technique. Rarely seen nowadays, but extremely effective when properly executed.”

“And quite safe.”

Mo Xuan would not make the kind of mistake that had eliminated Zhou Jian. His refinement was stable, methodical, precise, every step was calculated. The probability of an explosion was almost zero.

But there was a fundamental problem that no technique could solve. He had identified only eight of the thirteen correct herbs, the other five being wrong, choices based on assumptions that did not align with the structure of the recipe. No matter how good his technique was, he could not reconstruct a recipe using incorrect components.

The fifth participant was precisely the young man who had arrived shortly before the white-bearded elder, his name Bai Ren. He used a much more elegant method, an approach that combined precision and beauty.

A small blue flame appeared above his palm, its color so pure that it looked like a liquid jewel. Unlike Zhou Jian’s, his flame possessed no destructive force; it was delicate, almost alive, like a creature that breathed and pulsed with its own energy.

Bai Ren placed a flower inside the cauldron, his movements smooth and graceful. The flame touched the petal, but the flower did not burn. Instead, its spiritual essence began to transform into a liquid thread, a stream of energy that flowed like water. Bai Ren guided the thread with his Qi, forming a small circle inside the cauldron, a pattern that would serve as the foundation for the rest of the process.

Then he added a root, its essence merging with the circle like a river meeting the sea. Then a seed, followed by a leaf. Each ingredient was incorporated only after the previous essence had been completely stabilized, a sequence that required patience and vision.

Lio Han watched attentively, his eyes capturing the logic behind the movements.

“He understood the logic of balance. Each ingredient is not merely added, it is integrated, as part of a greater structure.”

The elder nodded, his expression showing approval.

“Yes. He understood the fundamental principle.”

“How many herbs?”

The old man closed his eyes for a moment, calculating mentally, his mind moving through the recipe in search of correspondences.

“Nine correct.”

Lio Han sighed, a sound of frustration.

“Still insufficient.”

The elder did not answer. His eyes had already returned to a specific table, a workstation that, until that moment, had gone unnoticed by most of the spectators.

Kyrian’s table.

Since the beginning of the test, Kyrian had worked in a completely different manner from the others, an approach that was both simple and deeply complex.

He was in no hurry. The flame ignited with lightning Qi remained extremely stable inside the black cauldron, a violet light burning with controlled intensity.

There were no great explosions of energy, no impressive manifestations, and no extravagant techniques that drew the crowd’s attention. Only control, a control so absolute that it seemed invisible to those who did not know what to look for.