Chapter 1111: I’ll Give Back That Little Time to You

Ye Mo worked quickly. Heaven-grade level five and six pills were essentially heaven-grade middle-grade pills; the difference in concoction was minimal. Thanks to the simulation enabled by the Three Birth Chant, he possessed a complete method. The only caveat was that this was his first attempt.

In under thirty minutes, Ye Mo began finishing the pills. Under the astonished gaze of the judges, he retrieved six pills from the cauldron.

“Such speed! I’m sure this isn’t his first time concocting a heaven-grade level six pill!” exclaimed level four Pill King Gao He.

Shen Guanqing shook his head. “No, it’s probably his first time concocting heaven-grade level six pills.”

“Probably,” Yue Qichao nodded. “Even if he’d concocted them before, the difference wouldn't be significant.”

Both were level seven Pill Kings, with countless heaven-grade level six pill concoctions under their belts. Ye Mo’s method seemed fluid, yet contained several minor areas for improvement. They didn't need to examine the pills to know the grade wasn't exceptionally high.

However, they were certain that Ye Mo would achieve far better results with subsequent attempts. A level six Pill King would identify their errors after a single concoction; a genius like Ye Mo even more so.

Ye Mo put away the cauldron. His expression remained unchanged, but inwardly he was disappointed. Despite numerous simulations, he’d only produced three top-grade and three middle-grade pills—not a single special-grade pill. He estimated that even with Mist Lotus Heart fire, he wouldn't achieve all special-grade pills, but at least half.

He knew he could improve with another attempt, but this was a tournament, a single chance. Fortunately, he'd still produced a cauldron of heaven-grade level six pills. Even if not as proficient as Jiu Qian, he stood a chance to reach step ten.

Collecting himself, Ye Mo surveyed Jiu Qian and sat down quietly, mirroring Jiu Qian’s earlier demeanor. He concocted the Dew Condense Pill rapidly, yet still spent almost an hour.

“Interesting,” observed Lu Wuhu, noting Ye Mo’s position, seemingly waiting for Jiu Qian.

“Indeed,” agreed Ji Ling, sensing the rivalry. Ye Mo appeared determined not to concede any advantage.

Jing Yingli frowned. While not intimately familiar with Ye Mo, she understood his nature: unostentatious and subtle. Reaching step seven had surpassed his initial goal. Why, then, did he appear intent on outdoing Jiu Qian?

He cared little for public opinion, focusing solely on his interests. The only explanation was a perceived necessity to defeat Jiu Qian. Jing Yingli, though unsure of the reason, knew one existed. Ye Mo's cunning and meticulous nature, previously dismissed, now had her apprehensive. She even suspected he might unleash the Heaven Flame.

Most spectators favored Jiu Qian, predicting his victory. Yet, Luo Xiaomo (Ye Mo) finished first, baffling them. The audience divided, fiercely debating the merits of each alchemist. This didn't faze Jiu Qian, but it did affect him—significantly. After step eight, he hadn't considered Ye Mo a threat.

But at step nine, the situation reversed. Luo Xiaomo, slow in step eight, demonstrated incredible speed in step nine, completing a heaven-grade level six pill in under an hour. Though Jiu Qian didn’t know which pill Ye Mo had concocted, his continued participation confirmed success.

Even for Jiu Qian, heaven-grade level six pills required one and a half hours. Ye Mo's speed was astonishing. He was waiting, just as Jiu Qian had waited. Recalling Ye Mo’s words—"If you truly possess the capability, I'll return that time"—Jiu Qian felt a surge of anxiety.

He’d previously dismissed Ye Mo’s boastfulness, but now understood its true meaning: a mere pass at step nine wouldn't suffice; Ye Mo was offering a time advantage only if Jiu Qian could match his performance at this stage.

Jiu Qian’s anxiety intensified, bordering on desperation. He attempted to accelerate, and immediately detected a faint burning smell. The spirit herbs were reacting to his emotional state.

He forced himself to calm down, pushing aside thoughts of Ye Mo. He couldn't comprehend Ye Mo’s unaffected demeanor during the wait, suspecting a deliberate ploy—to lull him into a false sense of security at step eight. If so, Luo Xiaomo was incredibly cunning.

Ye Mo, if he knew Jiu Qian's thoughts, would laugh. Having battled opponents while forming his golden core, this minor setback held no sway. The Three Birth Chant, encompassing the genesis of all things, rendered external influences negligible—like fleeting clouds.

A seed blossoms even under a rock; a resilient seed blooms even when fried in oil. The Three Birth Chant was Ye Mo's seed. Currently, it could withstand the pressure of a rock, but would eventually reach a point where no interference, however significant, could affect it.

Nevertheless, Ye Mo’s presence destabilized the perfectly balanced herbal liquid, causing it to burn. Jiu Qian suppressed his anger, carefully removing the excess burnt liquid. Without Ye Mo's influence, such a rudimentary error would have been unthinkable.

Pill formation from liquid was fundamental; it required precise spellcasting and spirit sense to blend the components. Partially burnt liquid skewed the ratios, potentially causing failure or even an explosion. A weaker pill master would be forced to discard the concoction.

But Jiu Qian wasn't ordinary. Defeat wasn't an option. He focused intently on separating the burnt portion, aiming to form pills from the remaining liquid. It was painstaking work, consuming hours. Two hours passed, then four, then eight—yet Jiu Qian remained stalled.

“What is happening?” Judges and audience alike were bewildered.