Chapter 102: The Spirit Refining Pill

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Qin Chuan was momentarily stunned, then quickly grew wary. The past few days had gone smoothly for him, and he had felt that everything would unfold according to his own calculations, which in turn had bound him. Had he not temporarily let down his guard just now, or had Wu Lu mastered the art of object manipulation, his feint would have been utterly futile.

He took a deep breath, shedding his previous frivolous mindset.

At that moment, Wu Lu’s gaze shifted. There seemed to be no outward change in Qin Chuan, yet an essential difference was sensed—though impossible to pinpoint.

After a successful strike, he did not immediately attack again.

During alchemy battles, the rules allowed only two opportunities to make a move. Qin Chuan’s single blow had already destroyed two types of herbs, greatly tipping the scales.

Only one chance remained, and Wu Lu began to calculate carefully.

Seeing that Qin Chuan did not seize this opportunity to strike again, Wu Lu calmed himself and busied with the herbs in his hands, planning his next move.

Meanwhile, Qin Chuan was forced to pause.

His left hand still controlled the earth fire, but it weakened considerably to prevent excessive heat in the alchemy furnace, thereby gaining precious time to think.

The medicinal garden had limited herbs, and the two types Wu Lu had destroyed only had one remaining plant each. Now both were gone, so he had to find substitutes.

This complication was unexpected, yet Qin Chuan showed no sign of discouragement.

He carefully recalled the derivative changes in his original formula; removing the two herbs would upset the original balance immediately.

To compensate, he must find a combination from the remaining herbs to fill the gap. Previously, this would have been impossible to achieve in such a short time.

But after the second round, flashes of insight erupted in his mind. The sensation was exhilarating, as if a thousand and one transformations unfolded. By simply enumerating herbs, he could predict possible alchemical variations.

Since beginning alchemy, although guided by artifacts, the direction was broad, and he had always completed the process alone.

He had to consider every possibility. Despite countless failures, his foundation was solid, and his thinking was imaginative and unconventional.

One herb after another came to mind.

One didn’t work, then two, then three...

Since starting alchemy, Qin Chuan had never applied himself so thoroughly. For the first time, he unleashed his entire essence—both botanical derivatives and alchemical techniques—without reservation.

Among the surplus herbs, he selected eight he needed. This should fill the gap, though the formula would deviate somewhat. However, with proper technique, he could avoid unwanted errors.

“He’s moving?”

“How so fast!”

Within barely ten breaths, Qin Chuan had recalculated all herb changes from start to finish, chosen the optimal combination, and immediately began.

He reached out, crushing four of the eight herbs into juice that fell directly into the furnace without further processing.

The remaining four were held in his palm, where their properties began to fuse.

When these four herbs merged into a single drop of azure liquid, a sharp gleam flashed in Qin Chuan’s eyes. He flicked his finger, sending a streak of fire to strike the drop.

The liquid boiled instantly, lasting less than the blink of an eye before vaporizing into blue smoke, which flowed through the furnace’s opening at Qin Chuan’s gesture.

After a roaring sound from within the furnace subsided, he finally exhaled deeply.

An elder on the stage glanced at Qin Chuan casually. Seeing the furnace’s vibrations diminish and stabilize, he nodded slightly.

Time passed swiftly; the incense on the platform was reduced to a quarter of its original length.

Only about sixty percent of the original participants remained, many having already used both their combat chances.

Those like Qin Chuan, who had yet to make a move, were few.

The pill Qin Chuan was refining was called the Spirit Terrace Pill, a superior grade pill for Qi cultivation. Its refinement demanded intense concentration, making it extremely difficult.

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Of the fifty kinds of medicinal herbs, excluding the thirty-two in the original formula and the three removed by Wu Lu, plus the eight used later to compensate, only seven remained on the herb rack.

It was nearing the end of the session, with three herbs spinning in Qin Chuan’s palm.

Suddenly, his expression changed as the furnace fire trembled violently, becoming unstable.

Wu Lu was momentarily stunned, then his face lit with joy, exclaiming as if heaven had aided him.

Seizing Qin Chuan’s momentary distraction tending the furnace, Wu Lu raised his right hand, revealing a silk fan, and fiercely waved it at Qin Chuan.

“Whoosh!” A fierce gust swept in an instant.

Qin Chuan’s face turned grave, but he could not mount an effective counterattack. If he diverted his mind to resist the spell, the earth fire would explode, dooming his alchemy.

He abandoned the freshly tempered liquid in his right hand and raised it to cast the Earth Stability Technique.

After the collision, seeing the furnace fire stabilize, Qin Chuan was relieved.

“You have lost,” Wu Lu declared confidently.

In his view, the remaining herbs in Qin Chuan’s possession were insufficient; he could not patch the formula as before, so the alchemy was doomed.

If no mistakes occurred, victory in the third round was assured for him.

Yet when he looked up, the disappointment and defeat he expected on Qin Chuan’s face were nowhere to be found, causing a pang of unease.

Qin Chuan did not extinguish the furnace fire but reached toward the remaining herbs.

“Who said the herbs I used earlier were the ones I needed?”

“I merely gambled on you not recognizing the pills I craft, trying to lure you into attacking. Unexpectedly, you actually did,” he chuckled.

“There was no earth fire riot; I controlled that to show you. The herbs I truly need are these three.”

He smiled knowingly, gazing at the three herbs resting quietly in his palm. “One good turn deserves another.”

Just as Wu Lu thought Qin Chuan would continue refining his pill, Qin Chuan smiled faintly and flicked his fingers forward.

Five lines of fire converged in the air, forming the image of a serpent.

Wu Lu’s vigilance sharpened; his hand faltered momentarily, nearly causing his furnace to explode.

Yet the serpent showed no sign of attacking, merely circling about one zhang (approximately three meters) away, waiting for an opening.

“Huh?”

He was astonished. Could one really play like this?

Looking up, he saw Qin Chuan handling it effortlessly, showing no strain from dividing his attention.

“Could it be he truly has the Seven Apertures of Awareness?”

Wu Lu had long noticed that multitasking was difficult for most, but Qin Chuan seemed to effortlessly manage three tasks at once.

The serpent’s refusal to attack continued to distract his mind, causing frequent errors in his own hand movements, though he could recover.

Resolving to act decisively, he pulled out a jade slip and crushed it between his fingers. The released light circled him, forming a faint protective shield.

Though fragile in appearance, Qin Chuan was surprised. This shield would require at least two such serpents to break.

Finding no chance to strike, Wu Lu dismissed the serpents with a wave, shook his head, and resumed refining his own pill.

As long as he made no mistakes, the Spirit Terrace Pill’s chances of winning were very high.

According to his calculations, none of the pills refined from the forty-seven remaining herbs in Wu Lu’s possession could surpass Qin Chuan’s.

To ensure victory, he had chosen the most challenging Spirit Terrace Pill.

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Though fraught with twists and turns, the pill was finally completed before the incense burned out. Fortunately, anticipating possible time shortage, Qin Chuan had managed the herbs with divided focus.

A scorching silver-white pill lay quietly in his palm. Before he could place it into the jade bottle, the last wisp of incense smoke dissipated.

“Alchemy session ended! Remove both hands from the furnace.”

“Within ten breaths, regardless of success, please come to the stage.”

Hearing this, Qin Chuan abandoned the idea of placing the pill into the jade bottle; most others did likewise.

A quick glance revealed that only half of the sixty-plus participants had succeeded in refining a pill, and how many would pass the third round was unknown.

The pill in Wu Lu’s hand was ash-white, smooth and rounded like a jade Go piece.

“Is this the Stinging Wind Pill?”

Judging by appearance, it was about eighty percent similar. Qin Chuan quietly observed Wu Lu’s refining steps, noting high similarity to the Stinging Wind Pill, perhaps modified by others.

This realization unsettled him.

“The jade altar mountain’s pillstone cliff formed millions of years ago, a wondrous realm that resonates with pills to assess their quality.”

An elder tapped his storage pouch, revealing a massive array formation.

“This is a Stone Spirit Pill for Qi cultivators.” He stepped into the array with the pill.

“Ding.”

Suddenly, a clear bell tone rippled out, followed by three more in quick succession—four in total.

“This Stone Spirit Pill is for Qi stage five cultivators. Yet the bell tolls four times, indicating the alchemist’s skill is subpar.”

“The outcome is determined by the number of bell tolls. If there is a tie, I have other evaluation methods.”

He left the sentence hanging, implying such ties were rare.

Only one person could enter the array at a time. Over thirty had succeeded in pill refinement; excluding those who failed, more than twenty remained.

Qin Chuan and Wu Lu were last in line, waiting a long while.

“Wu Lu,” a attendant suddenly called out.

“That’s me.”

“What pill did you refine?”

“Stinging Wind Pill.”

Qin Chuan’s gaze sharpened. The attendant seemed unsurprised, suggesting the Stinging Wind Pill was common.

After pondering, Qin Chuan realized that although the Jade Altar Mountain’s alchemy tradition was less prosperous than the Green Mountain Sect’s, it had its own legacy. Differences in pills were natural.

“Bring the Stinging Wind Pill and stand within the formation.”

“Yes.”