The uproar within the Imperial Alchemy Pavilion did not go unnoticed by its staff, including the Pavilion Head.
The man rushed into the main courtyard, accompanied by dozens of his attendants and staff mbers. His expression was a mix of urgency and frustration as he barked out orders.
"Who can tell what's happening?" he demanded.
The Pavilion Head had been busy sorting through invoices earlier, forced to leave his office abruptly due to the trembling of the pavilion. As the head of the establishnt, there was no one better acquainted with the capabilities of the Imperial Alchemy Pavilion's arrays—and, conversely, no one more aware of their limits.
The arrays were powerful, capable of withstanding extre pressures and supporting the most complex alchemical processes.
'Even I can't push them to this extent,' the Pavilion Head thought, his brows furrowed deeply. 'Could this be an external attack? Perhaps spies attempting to sabotage the arrays?'
"Pavilion Head! Pavilion Head!" An alchemist stumbled into view, his face pale and drenched in sweat as if he had just encountered a ghost.
"What is it?" the Pavilion Head snapped impatiently. The stress of the situation left him with little patience for stamring reports.
The Pavilion's current state was critical. The recent conflict involving Yao Changying had already stretched their resources thin, and the demand for alchemical pills across the empire had surged. eting quotas was paramount, and any disruption to their operations was unacceptable.
Right now, the Pavilion's operations had co to a grinding halt. The alchemy rooms were inaccessible, with arrays refusing to function. Alchemists were unable to enter or leave their workspaces. This was a dire situation, one that could not afford delays.
"Pavilion Head, we've identified the cause of the disruption!" the alchemist blurted out.
"What is it? Speak quickly!" the Pavilion Head ordered.
"The arrays are redirecting all their power to the VIP hall. They're so strained that there's nothing left to support the other sections," the alchemist explained, his voice trembling.
"What? That's impossible!" the Pavilion Head exclaid.
"Indeed. Even I'm unable to cause such strain on the arrays," said a voice from the crowd. The Pavilion Head turned abruptly to see an elderly man erging from the gathering alchemists.
"G-Grandmaster Lao?" the Pavilion Head stamred, almost losing his composure.
The elderly alchemist was no ordinary individual. He was a figure of imnse renown, not just within the Dao Wind Empire but also beyond. As the Uncle Master of the Emperor and a mber of the Immortal Court's Alchemy Division, his presence here was monuntal. Most of the Pavilion's staff dread of reaching even a fraction of his prestige.
"You're here?" the Pavilion Head asked, bewildered.
"Of course. The arrays aren't functioning for either," Grandmaster Lao replied calmly.
"That shouldn't be possible. Even if the sub-arrays in the individual rooms fail, the VIP halls are supposed to remain unaffected," the Pavilion Head countered. He turned back to his subordinate. "And what's this about the VIP hall being the cause?"
"It's not VIP Hall Number 1," the alchemist clarified.
"If it's not Hall Number 1, then which one is it?" murmurs spread among the crowd.
"Hall Number 1 is occupied by Grandmaster Lao, and Hall Number 2 is currently vacant. That leaves..." The realization dawned upon them. "Hall Number 3?"
"It's Hall Number 3," the subordinate confird. "We checked multiple tis. All the power is being redirected there, even the power from the other VIP halls."
The revelation sent waves of curiosity and concern through the crowd.
"Who is in Hall Number 3?" Grandmaster Lao asked, his tone sharp.
The Pavilion Head hesitated for a mont before replying, "It's the Imperial Imperator."
Gasps spread among the assembled alchemists. Many had heard of the Imperial Imperator, Daoist Lin Mu, but few knew of his capabilities in alchemy. His reputation was built on his mastery of formations and his unparalleled cultivation base, not on any involvent in the alchemical arts.
"Daoist Lin Mu?" Grandmaster Lao's eyes narrowed. He had heard of Lin Mu's feats from multiple sources but had never imagined him causing such a phenonon.
HONGLONG
Just as the crowd was digesting this information, the situation escalated further. Bells rang out, echoing through the pavilion.
"Bells? Why are the bells ringing?" soone in the crowd asked, their voice tinged with unease.
All eyes turned toward the sky. Above the Imperial Alchemy Pavilion, a glowing purple cloud was forming. The sight left everyone frozen in awe and disbelief.
"That... that can't be..." stamred one of the senior alchemists.
"Heavenly Phenona!" another exclaid, his voice trembling.
Heavenly Phenona were exceedingly rare, occurring only when an alchemical creation reached a level that defied convention. The presence of such phenona signified a refinent that could shake the very foundations of the alchemical world.
Within the third VIP hall, Lin Mu remained oblivious to the chaos outside. His focus was unwavering as he continued his work. The Tyrant Bull Marrow had been compressed further than ever before. Each drop within the cauldron radiated an intensity that even seasoned alchemists would find impossible to achieve.
"Just a little more," Lin Mu muttered, his voice steady despite the mounting pressure. His Immortal Sense was stretched to its limits, monitoring every ripple and fluctuation within the marrow.
The Aspect of Heaviness, combined with his unparalleled control, allowed him to condense the marrow into a form that bordered on the mythical. Hours turned into days as Lin Mu pushed beyond the known limits of alchemical refinent.
Outside, the purple cloud continued to grow, its brilliance illuminating the pavilion. The alchemists gathered below could only watch in awe as the phenonon unfolded.
"Is this really the work of the Imperial Imperator?" soone murmured, their voice filled with disbelief.
"If it is, then his talent surpasses even our wildest imaginations," Grandmaster Lao said, his tone carrying a mix of admiration and envy.
As the final monts of Lin Mu's refinent approached, the purple cloud began to condense, spiraling downward toward the pavilion. The Heavenly Phenona had recognized the culmination of his efforts, and the world itself seed to hold its breath.
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