The testing location was not the dusty, cluttered workshop Alex had imagined. It was an amphitheater. Tiers of polished redwood seats, currently holding a sparse but heavy audience, rose in a steep semi-circle, all focused on a single, wide stage at the bottom. The air, thick with the scent of rare herbs and purifying incense, hummed with a quiet, academic reverence that felt a world away from the raw energy of the training grounds.
In the center of the stage, where a professor's lectern might have stood back on Earth, sat a massive, jade cauldron, its surface covered in intricate, faintly glowing runes. Behind it, shelves lined the back wall, holding a breathtaking array of ingredients in crystal jars and porcelain bowls. It was a veritable library of natural power.
The spectators whispered amongst themselves, their silver cauldron pins glinting in the soft light.
"Is that him?" one murmured, his gaze dismissive. "He doesn't look like much."
"Finne said he stole the pills from Elder Lian's private stock," another replied confidently. "This is just a formality before they throw him in the dungeons."
Chen and Finne sat in the front row, their expressions a study in contrasts. Finne wore a mask of righteous fury, his knuckles white as he waited for the justice he believed was his due. Chen, on the other hand, looked utterly relaxed, a smug, predatory calm in his eyes as he watched his carefully laid plan begin to unfold.
A hush fell over the room as five figures took their seats at a long table facing the stage. In the center sat Elder Ming, his usual warm smile replaced by an unreadable, stoic mask. To his right was the unyielding, granite-like form of Elder Zheng. The other three were high-ranking alchemists Alex didn't recognize, a hawk-nosed man, a stout woman with sharp eyes, and a thin, reedy man, their faces stern and impassive.
The hawk-nosed man, Senior Alchemist Tian, stood. "Disciple Alex," he began, his voice echoing in the chamber. "You stand accused of selling pills of a quality inconsistent with your rank, leading to the grave suspicion of theft from a sect elder. The consequences for this are severe. Should you fail this examination, a full investigation into the source of your pills will be conducted. If found guilty, you will be confined to the sect's prison for ten years to reflect on your transgressions."
A knot of ice formed in Alex's stomach. Ten years? That wasn't a punishment; it was a death sentence for a cultivator's future.
The stout woman, Senior Alchemist Yue, then stood. "You will be required to craft a single Mid-Grade Spirit Tempering Pill."
Alex's mind raced. Spirit Tempering Pill... I think I read that scroll. It's for calming the spirit during a breakthrough, notoriously difficult to balance...
"There is, however, a change in protocol for this examination," the woman continued, a faint, cruel smile on her lips. "Given the purported 'flawless' quality of your previous work, you will be provided no recipe."
The room erupted in whispers. Elder Ming shot to his feet, his calm facade finally cracking. "Preposterous! The rules of the practical exam are clear! A recipe is always provided. The test is of a disciple's control over heat and Qi, not their ability to memorize every formula in the sect library!"
The third judge, the reedy man, rose to counter him. "With all due respect, Elder Ming, a disciple capable of producing perfect-grade pills, as has been claimed, should have no need for a simple recipe. This is the truest test of an alchemist's innate skill."
Ming looked ready to argue further, but Zheng placed a calming hand on his arm, a silent but unyielding signal. Ming sat back down, his face a mask of cold fury. His hands were tied. The game was rigged.
'Paying off these three with that single spirit treasure I had brought in from my family vault was well worth the trouble,' Chen thought, a triumphant smirk hidden behind a neutral expression. 'Let's see you talk your way out of this, you worthless trash.'
Finne, oblivious to the bribery, felt a surge of pure vindication. 'It serves the lying thief right,' he thought, his gaze locked on Alex. 'Let's see what tricks you can pull in front of the elders now.'
All the while, Alex was barely listening to their pronouncements. His panic had a different, more primal source. It wasn't the pill. It wasn't the recipe. It was the two burning holes Elder Zheng was staring into the side of his head. The elder wasn't watching the stage; he was watching him. His spiritual sense wasn't just observing; it was a palpable, scrutinizing weight, an invasive force that crawled over his skin and tried to peer into his very soul, searching... hunting for the slightest hint of heresy, the faintest flicker of a power that didn't belong.
In the spectator seats, Elara, Jay, and Lily watched, their knuckles white.
"Is... is he going to be okay?" Elara whispered, her voice trembling slightly as she felt the oppressive atmosphere.
Lily's face was a mask of cold fury. "He'd better be," she hissed, her voice low and dangerous. "He'd better succeed so I can give him a proper beating myself afterward."
"Lily, don't be like that," Jay said, trying to sound reassuring.
Lily snapped, turning on him with a ferocity that made him flinch. "That's easy for you to say! He made a special pill for you. He made one for Elara. What about me? Am I not good enough for his 'little experiments'?" She clenched her fist, her anger a thin, brittle shell over a raw, unspoken hurt. It wasn't just about a pill; it was about feeling like she was being left behind by the very people she was trying to protect.
Elara placed a calming hand on her arm. "I'm sure he'll make you the best Wind-Qi pill you've ever seen, Lily. Just... let him get through this first."
On the stage, Alex took a single, deep breath. He forced Elder Zheng from his mind. He forced the whispers, the accusations, the impossible task from his mind. He closed his eyes, and the world of color returned. He composed himself. He turned to the shelves of ingredients. And he began to move.
He started grabbing jars, seemingly at random. The hawk-nosed judge scoffed. "Sun-petal Flower and Frost Lily? He intends to create an explosion, not a pill. Those energies are violently opposed."
The stout woman scribbled on her parchment. "And now Cragscale Lizard powder? The fiery energies are completely incompatible with the Frost Lily's core. This is the work of an amateur trying to look profound."
Alex ignored them. He saw the world not as they did. Through his Immortal Eyes, he saw the vibrant yellow of Yang energy clashing with the cool blue of Yin, and the fiery red of the lizard powder, a volatile catalyst. He saw the chaos. And he saw the path through it.
He began adding ingredients to the cauldron, his movements fluid and certain. He didn't follow a recipe; he followed the flow of energy. He adjusted the heat, coaxing the red fire Qi to flare, then banking it to a soft, consistent blue, guided not by the cauldron's markings, but by the color of the energies he saw. He channeled his own Qi slowly as a thousand tiny, golden threads, weaving through the turbulent energies within the cauldron, calming them, binding them, forcing them into a state of perfect, harmonious balance that should have been impossible.
Hours passed. The sun began to set outside the crystal windows. The spectators watched, on the edge of their seats, as the rumbling, chaotic cauldron on the stage slowly, impossibly, grew calm. A soft, fragrant steam began to rise, carrying a scent of profound clarity that seemed to wash over the entire hall.
And then, it was done.
The turbulent hum from the cauldron ceased. Alex, his robes damp with sweat and his face pale with exertion, lifted the heavy lid.
Nestled inside were six pills. They were not just perfectly spherical; they were a shimmering, pearlescent white, a soft, internal light swirling within each one as if capturing a piece of a peaceful dream.
Elder Ming waved his hand, and the six pills floated gracefully from the cauldron to the judges' table. The three bribed judges stared, their faces a mixture of disbelief and crestfallen fury. One of them, desperate, snatched a pill. "This could be a trick! Some illusionary art!"
Ming didn't respond to him. He simply turned his gaze to Elder Zheng, who had been staring, unblinking, at Alex the entire time. "Well, Brother Zheng? Did you find what you were looking for?"
Zheng's spiritual sense, which had been pressing down on Alex for hours, finally withdrew. He let out a long, slow, and utterly exasperated sigh. He stood, gave a single, dismissive shake of his head as if the entire affair had been a colossal waste of his time, and walked out of the hall without another word. He had found no dark arts. Only an impossibly talented disciple whose precise control of Qi he could not comprehend.
A subtle, triumphant smile touched Elder Ming's lips. "Well, judges?" he said, his voice carrying through the silent hall. "There you have it."
Defeated, Senior Alchemist Tian walked to the stage and grudgingly handed Alex a small, grey pin shaped like a cauldron. "By the authority of the Guild," he muttered, "you are recognized as an official alchemist of the Alchemist Guild."
Just as a wave of exhaustion and relief was about to wash over Alex, a calm but unyielding presence settled over the stage. Elder Ming stood where he had not been a moment before.
"Alex," he said, his voice warm but with an edge of authority. "When you have a moment, I would like to speak with you in my office." He then turned his gaze to the crowd, his eyes locking onto Chen. His voice was no longer the gentle tone of a kind grandfather, but the steel of the Alchemist Guild's branch director. "Disciple Chen. My office. Now."
He glanced at the three flustered judges. "Senior Alchemists," he said, his voice a low command. "You will join us."
Elder Ming vanished from the stage, leaving a stunned silence and three sweating judges in his wake. Chen's face had gone deathly pale. The hunter had just become the hunted.
The spectators began to file out, their whispers now a torrent of awe and speculation. Alex was still staring at the small pin in his hand when a fist slammed into his stomach. The blow didn't hurt, his Ironbone body absorbed it easily, but it knocked the wind out of him with a startled oof. He looked up to see Lily standing before him, rubbing her knuckles with a pained expression.
Behind her, Elara and Jay rushed forward, their faces a mixture of horror and apology. "Lily! I didn't think you'd actually hit him!" Elara cried.
Alex, still confused, looked at Jay. "What was that for?"
"She's upset you didn't make a pill for her," Jay explained, a hint of amusement in his voice.
Alex looked at Lily's furious, pouting face and then checked her status with his Immortal Eyes. Foundation Establishment: Stage 5 (98.2%). She was even closer to a breakthrough than Elara had been. A slow grin spread across his face.
He reached out and patted her on the head like a child. "Don't worry," he said, his tone just a little mocking. "I'll make you the best pill you've ever seen. Especially now," he added, holding up his new alchemist's pin, "that I can buy the good ingredients."