As the invigilators filed into the arena, their arms laden with trays of ingredients, a hush fell over the room. My heart pounded in my chest as I scanned the approaching figures, eager to see the components I'd requested.

Each invigilator stopped at a contestant's station, carefully placing down the requested ingredients. I noted with some relief that the trays for the other contestants carried similar batches: lotus rhizomes, skullcaps, and some with ginseng. These were the ingredients we all deduced as essential to combat the Amethyst Plague, given the recipe's fragmented instructions and historical context. But I noticed I was the only one who asked for distilled water, aside from Jingyu Lian.

But then, my eyes landed on an invigilator who was struggling with an unusually large tray. It was piled high with an assortment of ingredients—many of which didn't make sense for this specific antidote. Herbs and roots either too exotic or unrelated to the symptoms we were combating. It even included distilled water, the only other competitor to ask for it. My brows furrowed in confusion and curiosity.

There was only one person in this competition I knew who would request such an eclectic mix, and I wasn't surprised when the invigilator stopped in front of Bai Hua's station, gently setting down the cumbersome tray.

Bai Hua, the ever-unpredictable perfumer, glanced up with a satisfied smile, thanking the invigilator with a nod. I couldn't help but shake my head, a wry smile tugging at my lips. It was in character of him. Always marching to the beat of his own drum. While the rest of us were focused on the straightforward path, he was off exploring uncharted territory. Though, I'm not sure how well it'd be rewarded this round.

My own ingredients had arrived, neatly arranged in front of me. Wolfsbane, Bloodthorn Seeds, dandelion root, lotus rhizomes, skullcaps, and distilled water. I took a deep breath, my mind sharpening with determination. There was no room for error; I had to follow the recipe as closely as possible while improvising where necessary.

"I should start with this..."

The clock was ticking, and I knew that every second counted. The urgency of a real plague scenario was simulated here, and every moment spent fumbling could mean another life lost. I began with the charring process, carefully controlling the heat to ensure the lotus rhizomes and skullcaps reached the perfect consistency for activated charcoal.

As the herbs charred, I moved to the next step, soaking the wolfsbane in water. The pill furnace roared to life, boiling the wolfsbane as I taste-tested it to ensure the toxins were fully neutralized. The bitterness gradually faded, a sign that the poison was being effectively removed. Although this round was difficult, it still dealt with herbs. I was in my element.

Multitasking was essential. While keeping an eye on the boiling wolfsbane, I checked the charred herbs, ensuring they didn’t burn. The process of charring was rather unscientific, and I used the provided stove to thoroughly char them, turning them every so often. The steady rhythm of my tasks was almost hypnotic, each step flowing seamlessly into the next.

I couldn't afford to rush. Each step had to be executed with care and accuracy. The wolfsbane was finally ready, and I carefully drained it, setting it aside. The pill furnace needed to be cleaned thoroughly before I could proceed with the next crucial ingredient: the Bloodthorn Seeds.

This was the most challenging task yet. The seeds were volatile, their properties teetering on the edge of medicine and poison. But then again, so was most of the ingredients here.

I only began handling Bloodthorn Seeds after joining the Verdant Lotus sect. What did I need Bloodthorn Seeds for when I was only dealing with common, everyday ailments as the village herbalist?

Processing them correctly was critical; one misstep could turn the antidote into a lethal concoction. The recipe didn’t specify how to prepare them, only mentioning their incorporation into the final product. But that was no problem. I stretched my arms and wrist, loosening myself up before taking on the task.

I looked underneath the alchemical station for the proper tool. With a swift movement, I grabbed the quartz mortar and pestle and began crushing them. It would neutralize some of its effects. The seeds broke down into a fine powder under the steady pressure, their volatile properties subdued but still potent.

I let the crushed seeds soak in distilled water, carefully monitoring the process to ensure they dissolved properly. While the seeds soaked, I turned my attention back to the steaming process for the charcoal. It was time to turn up the heat on the stove, allowing the steam to dehydrate them back into a fine powder and completing the process.

As the steam rose and the herbs dried, I could feel the intensity of the competition around me. The charcoal was ready, a deep, dark hue that promised potency. I set it aside, making sure it was finely ground and ready for the next step.

Next, I began combining the prepared ingredients. Once it was ready, I heated it, preparing for the final and most delicate stage of the antidote.

I added the charred lotus rhizomes and skullcaps to the pill furnace, integrating them slowly to avoid clumping. The mixture took on a rich, inky shade, the colors blending perfectly as planned. The activated charcoal combined with the Bloodthorn Seeds created a strong base, capable of absorbing toxins and purifying the blood.

All around me, the other contestants were reaching a critical stage in their recipes. Everyone seemed to have similar ingredients, except for Bai Hua, who was doing...something entirely different. I couldn't afford to be distracted. I refocused on the task at hand, knowing that the final steps required my utmost attention.

The wolfsbane, now free of toxins, was ready to be incorporated. I added it to the mixture in the pill furnace, carefully blending it with the other ingredients. The dandelion root followed, sliced thin and precise, adding its immune-boosting properties to the antidote. The distilled water came last, binding the ingredients into a smooth, consistent elixir.

With the final ingredients added, I watched the mixture closely. The color deepened, a rich, dark hue that signified the potency of the antidote.

Now, I just had to wait.

An underrated skill any and all alchemists should hone was having a solid internal clock. Not only did it help with precise timing for delicate recipes, it made waking up early in the morning a breeze. Without any markers or indicators, this made the difference between a mediocre alchemist and a great one.

After several minutes, I opened the pill furnace to reveal the steaming liquid within.

I peered into the pill furnace. The mixture had a deep, dark hue, but something felt off. I referenced the recipe and the step I was supposed to be on, where it described the mixture taking on a deep, murky violet color. Instead, what I had was a darker brown with a purple tone. I stirred the mixture, ensuring there were no clumps that hadn't integrated fully with the elixir, but there was none.

Stolen story; please report.

Panic welled up in my chest. I must have messed up one of the ingredients, but I didn't have time to pinpoint the exact mistake.

"Thirty minutes left!"

I knew it was too late to change anything.

I forced myself to stay calm, convincing myself that the recipe might still work.

Even if I wasn't perfectly accurate, it was enough on its own. I couldn't add anymore ingredients. I just had to forge through and make sure I was perfect everywhere else.

I took a deep breath, focusing on the next crucial step: the filtration process. I placed a coarse filter over the container, ready to strain out the larger particles. Carefully, I poured the mixture through, watching as it flowed steadily, leaving behind the unwanted debris. The liquid that emerged was clearer but still far from perfect.

Next, I grabbed a piece of fine cloth, folding it over several times to create a dense filter for the finer particulates. The process was painstakingly slow, but essential for the purity of the antidote.

I couldn’t help but think how much easier this would be with Essence Extraction. When collecting the essence of an ingredient, it didn't come with impurities. But that was off-limits here. Accuracy and adherence to traditional methods were the rules of this round. No shortcuts, no advanced techniques. Just skill and precision.

With the final minutes ticking away, I carefully poured the finished elixir into a small vial, sealing it tightly. I examined my finished product: a clear liquid, free of impurities but dark blue rather than the intended violet.

"Contestants, step forward and place your antidotes, as well as your recipe, on the table." Ma Hualong's authoritative voice echoed through the arena. We obeyed, and everyone placed their products on the table. Seven of them were pills, and three were in vials. As we proceeded to stand in a line, the judges came forward to analyze our works with a critical eye.

Lei Ren, Wei Lian, and Elder Mingmei walked around the table, reading out the interpreted recipes and picking up the individual products and discussing amongst themselves. But soon, all the judges started converging on one side of the table.

"Bai Hua, this recipe of yours is quite...different. May I ask about your thought process?" Elder Wei Lian said, analyzing the vial in his hand.

The perfumer stepped forward with a flourish, bowing his head in respect. "I confess, I am not a scholar of ancient recipes. The past, while fascinating, holds little interest for me. I prefer to forge my own path, to explore the uncharted territories of alchemy. Which is why I took some...liberties when interpreting the recipe."

Elder Mingmei's eyes narrowed, her voice sharp and unyielding. "You are quite arrogant in thinking you can do better than the ancient recipe when you have so much to learn. Alchemy is not merely about creativity; it is about understanding and respecting the wisdom of those who came before us."

Bai Hua, undeterred by the stern rebuke, met her gaze with calm defiance. "Elder Mingmei, I mean no disrespect to the ancients. I respect your adherence to tradition, but must we be forever bound by the past? Tradition is the foundation, but innovation is the fragrance that captivates the senses. Don't you agree?"

The crowd murmured in response, and a mix of curiosity and skepticism rippled through the audience. Some seemed swayed by Bai Hua's confidence, while others were clearly aligned with Elder Mingmei's more conservative view.

Bai Hua continued to speak, explaining his chosen ingredients to the judges. Blooming Wisteria, Good Morning Roses...all non-traditional ingredients. But it was ingenious in its own way.

His voice filled with conviction. "By utilizing the properties of Blooming Wisteria and Good Morning Roses, I created a diffusion method that allows the antidote's effects to spread over a wide area. This makes it much more practical for treating large groups of people quickly, especially in an outbreak scenario where time is of the essence."

Despite sounding good in practice, Lei Ren was not easily swayed. "While the method of application is innovative," he said, his tone measured, "the antidote itself is lacking when it comes to dealing with the effects of the Amethyst Plague. While useful in other contexts, Blooming Wisteria and Good Morning Roses lack the potency needed to combat the Amethyst Plague."

Lei Ren's words cut through the crowd, causing a stir. "You may disregard the knowledge and history of alchemy," he continued, his gaze firm on Bai Hua, "but it is not a playground for whimsical experimentation. It is a discipline rooted in centuries of knowledge and tradition. While innovation is important, it must not come at the expense of foundational principles."

The judges all nodded in response.

Bai Hua's confident facade faltered for a moment, humbled by Lei Ren's critique. "I understand, Master Lei Ren," he said, bowing his head.

He slipped back into line, and the other judges began to take notice of the product beside Bai Hua's. Mine.

"Kai Liu...could you explain your reason as to why you used distilled water in your recipe?"

I took a deep breath, trying to steady my nerves. "Yes, Elder Wei Lian," I began, "I used distilled water because, historically, elixirs were more commonly used than pill forms. An elixir is easier to consume, especially for the elderly, babies, and those too weak to chew a pill. It ensures that the antidote can be administered quickly and effectively to those who need it the most."

The judges nodded approvingly, their expressions thoughtful. I felt a small surge of confidence, but it was short-lived.

Lei Ren's voice cut through the silence. "Kai Liu, your reasoning for using an elixir is sound. However, I must ask about the elixir's color. The name 'Violet Bloom Antidote' implies a specific coloration, yet your elixir is dark blue. Why is that?"

I swallowed hard, trying to formulate my response carefully. "I believe it is likely due to an incorrect ingredient choice," I admitted. "I followed the recipe as best as I could interpret it, but I must have chosen a substitute that affected the final color."

Lei Ren nodded, his expression serious. "Can you pinpoint where in the recipe you went wrong?"

I shook my head slowly, feeling the weight of my own uncertainty. "No, Master Lei Ren. I cannot say for certain where I made the mistake."

There was a moment of silence, the air thick with anticipation. Lei Ren's eyes bore into mine, searching for any hint of understanding. Finally, he spoke again, his tone both instructive and challenging.

"Kai Liu, alchemy is as much about precision as it is about intuition. Your work shows promise, but there is a crucial lesson here. The Bloodthorn Seeds, while essential, are highly volatile. Their correct preparation is critical. Their properties, while breaking down the toxin in the bloodstream, also risk leaving the patient severely weakened due to blood loss. Your antidote is effective in curing the Amethyst Plague, but it lacks an element to support blood regeneration after the seeds have run their course."

The realization hit me like a bolt of lightning. Of course! How could I have forgotten that?

"But the rest of the work shows promise," Elder Wei Lian interjected smoothly. "The rest of the ingredients were sound, made with care and precision. Your elixir, though not perfect, demonstrates a strong affinity towards herbs and an understanding of their properties. Your decision to use an elixir form is commendable and shows your consideration for those who might have difficulty consuming a pill."

The compliments felt hollow, knowing that I had missed a crucial aspect of the antidote. I glanced at Elder Wei Lian, aware that his praise might have ulterior motives, possibly using me to undermine Jingyu Lian. This awareness dulled the satisfaction of his words, but I accepted them with a polite bow.

"Thank you, Elder Wei Lian," I said, keeping my tone respectful.

I stepped back as the rest of the products were judged. None of them had the same reaction as mine or Bai Hua's. The judges' reactions were measured, their critiques thorough but fair. Zhi Ruo's got a lukewarm reception, with the only comment being the pill's lack of purity. It wasn't until they reached the last remaining product, where they had a notable reaction. In a vial, and unlike my own, it boasted a bright purple hue.

"Jingyu Lian, among the contestants so far, yours is the only one to fit the recipe's name in its entirety. Do you know why?"

She nodded, stepping forward with her eyes raised.

"When female ginseng is used in combination with the processed wolfsbane, it will cause a reaction that amplifies each ingredient's effects, turning the mixture into a violet hue," She explained confidently. "The female ginseng enhances the restorative properties of the wolfsbane while also acting as a stabilizer for the volatile Bloodthorn Seeds."

The pieces suddenly clicked into place. Of course! Everything made sense now. Ma Hualong's hesitation, and my crucial mistake...

The judges exchanged glances, their faces clearly showing approval and surprise. Elder Wei Lian, seizing the opportunity to criticize, leaned forward with a scrutinizing expression. "Your mixture may have the correct color and impressive synergy, but there are several aspects of your recipe that raise concerns. For instance, the female ginseng's interaction with wolfsbane might intensify the antidote's potency, but it also increases the risk of adverse effects if not precisely measured."

He paused, letting his words sink in before continuing. "Furthermore, your choice to use dried female ginseng instead of fresh may have compromised the overall efficacy of the antidote. Dried herbs lose some of their essential oils and active compounds, reducing their medicinal strength."

Jingyu Lian maintained her composure, though her eyes flickered with a hint of frustration. "The dried form was sufficient. A true alchemist adapts to the resources at hand."

Lei Ren intervened with a calm and authoritative tone. "Despite Elder Wei Lian's valid points, it is evident that you possess a well-rounded understanding of alchemy, Jingyu Lian. Your ability to balance the interactions between the ingredients and achieve the intended color demonstrates your skill. However, alchemy requires not only knowledge but also adaptability and precision."

He turned to address all the contestants. "This competition is not just about following a recipe; it is about understanding the principles behind each ingredient and anticipating their effects. Innovation and tradition must coexist harmoniously. Jingyu Lian, your antidote is impressive, but remember that even a slight miscalculation can have significant consequences."

I stood there, watching her as she returned back to the line with her head held high. If I had to guess, she had the best one yet. I reflected on my performance, and I bit my lip, knowing that it was closer to the original recipe than most, seeing how the elders judged our products. The judges' deliberations continued, their discussions growing more animated as they compared the various antidotes. I could see Elder Wei Lian point between my and Jingyu Lian's product. Lei Ren seemed unfazed, crossing his arms and talking quietly.

The minutes felt like hours, as they concluded their judgements. Ma Hualong came forward, looking off into the distance and inclining his head towards someone from the entrance. Two invigilators rushed out, carrying an item covered in fine, purple silk. Once they arrived at the center, the man spoke in a booming voice.

"In this round of the Gauntlet, the judges have evaluated each antidote based on its adherence to the recipe, its effectiveness, and the alchemical skill demonstrated. The contestant who has shown the most promise and has crafted the most effective antidote is..."