The second challenge of the Alchemy of Heaven and Earth competition was unveiled, and it imdiately sent ripples of unease to the participants.
The task? Mastery of flas—a fundantal yet critical elent in creating successful and high-quality concoctions.
In alchemy, fla control was an art. While low and mid-grade recipes could rely on ordinary flas, high-grade concoctions required specialized flas, capable of producing precise heat levels. This practice was common among apothecaries in the Magus realm. However, it seed that in the Tartarus realm, flas were regarded with even greater reverence, as they were the centerpiece of one of the three main challenges in the competition.
The remaining 148 challengers were called to the testing grounds, a massive open-air space with bronze-tier cauldrons arranged in perfectly spaced rows. The bronze-tier 5 cauldrons shimred faintly under the sunlight, their polished surfaces etched with runes that hinted at their capacity to endure intense heat.
Each participant was assigned a cauldron, and as they took their places, an examiner stepped forward, their voice amplified by magic.
"You will each receive a recipe and the necessary materials. Your task is to concoct a Tier 6 heat-resistance pill. Your objectives are simple: First, create a pill of at least 80% great quality. Second, ensure that your fla does not extinguish at any point during the hour-long challenge."
The announcent stirred a mixture of relief and suspicion among the participants. While a Tier 6 heat-resistance pill was considered high-grade, it was also a relatively common recipe—a staple for alchemists refining their fla control. Yet, the simplicity of the objectives raised eyebrows.
"Sothing's off," Shinta muttered, standing beside Ery as they examined the provided materials.
Ery nodded in agreent. "The difficulty lies sowhere else. We just haven't seen it yet."
The examiner's voice bood once more. "Your ti begins now!"
As the challenge began, participants wasted no ti lighting their flas. A kaleidoscope of fiery hues—blue, orange, and white—illuminated the arena as alchemists unleashed their spirit energy to fuel their flas. Most relied on refined spirit conjuration techniques, a mark of their expertise, to control the delicate process of refining the ingredients.
Ery's eyes scanned the participants, noting the radiance of their auras. The potent spirit energy emanating from the majority was unmistakable. Nine out of ten here were Cosmic Realm experts, and their mastery of energy manipulation was palpable.
He released a deep sigh, feeling the pressure mount. To see so many Grand Magus-level figures gathered in one place, all competing as apothecaries, was both intimidating and exhilarating.
"Alright," let's get started too," Ery said firmly, signaling his team.
Livi stepped forward, her presence commanding attention. Her sharp features, combined with the spiraled horns atop her head, made her identify as a mber of the goat race beastman. She raised her hand, and with a practiced motion, cast her fla spell. A roaring jet of bright orange fire erupted from her palm, igniting the cauldron with precision.
Ery turned his attention to the recipe and materials. Beside him, Shinta worked thodically, her small hands steady as she followed the instructions. Together, they prepared the ingredients manually. Leaves were crushed, powders carefully asured, and liquids precisely mixed. Despite their teamwork, the task was simple enough, and they completed it in less than ten minutes.
anwhile, the cauldron, already infused with Livi's flas, shimred with heat. The intense warmth radiating from it was a stark contrast to the cold dread Ery suddenly felt creeping along his spine.
He paused, his sharp instincts tingling. Sothing was off.
Scanning the arena again, Ery counted the active cauldrons. There were 148 participants. And yet, instead of the expected rising temperature from so many flas, the atmosphere felt unnaturally cool.
Before quickly detected, shimring runes began to glow faintly on the given cauldrons.
"Cold formation runes," Ery muttered under his breath, realization dawning.
Two examinees, situated near the center of the field, had begun casting cold spells, and it wasn't long before the runes spread their chilling influence that began to counteract the flas.
"Livi! Increase the heat!" Ery commanded.
Live nodded as she intensified her fla spell. The sudden spike in heat stabilized the cauldron's temperature, but the challenge was now clear.
The participants were required to balance the extre cold generated by the runes with their flas while maintaining precise heat control inside the cauldron. Too much heat would destroy the ingredients, while insufficient heat would lead to failure.
Minutes ticked by, and the intensity of the challenge escalated. Every ten minutes, the cold runes pulsed with greater power, forcing the alchemists to adapt their flas. Ery focused intently, his hands steady as he guided Shinta through the next steps of the recipe.
"More heat, Livi!" Ery urged again while extending his hand, channeling his spirit energy through his Eight Elents Transmutation technique. Flas erupted from his palm, bright and controlled, rging seamlessly with Livi's. The added firepower pushed back the biting cold montarily, allowing the concoction to stabilize.
"Yes, Master," Livi replied, her voice strained as beads of sweat ford on her brow. She was pouring more of her energy into the flas, her breathing growing heavier with each surge of power.
At the thirty-minute mark, the cold runs flared again, their energy surging with renewed vigor. Frost began forming on the ground, creeping toward their cauldron. Livi's breathing grew labored, her body trembling under the strain of maintaining her spell.
By then, more than fifty participants had failed, their frustration boiling over into shouts and protests. Skyroot faction guards moved swiftly to escort the disqualified from the premises, their stern expressions silencing any further outbursts.
Ery, too, felt the strain. Even with Livi's unwavering efforts, the freezing energy was pushing her to her limits. Her flas flickered dangerously close to dying out.
At the forty-minute mark, the cold had reached near cosmic levels. More participants fell by the wayside, their flas extinguished and their cauldrons ruined. The once-crowded arena now felt eerily sparse as the number of active teams dwindled to almost half.
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