Steadily Upgrading Everything!
Chapter 29: Rebuilding

Chapter 29: Rebuilding

John slowly unrolled the scroll, his eyes narrowing as he scanned the elegant diagrams and precise notations that filled the parchment.

The Rapid Blood Pill formula was intricate, far more detailed than any of the three pills he had previously practiced.

Each step demanded precision in flame control, timing, and herb synergy.

His Level Five Alchemy made the instructions clearer than they would be for most, but even then...

"This isn’t a pill for beginners," he muttered, frowning slightly.

His gaze dropped to the table before him, and stilled.

There, stacked neatly in lacquered trays, were fifty batches of high-grade alchemical ingredients.

The fragrance was dense and sharp, filled with rare herbs like Spirit Burn Grass, Blackheart Fungus, and Vital Vein Root.

"Fifty full sets..." John whispered, his brows creasing.

He reached forward and carefully opened the wrapping on the first batch, letting the pungent scent of the Spirit Burn Grass rise into his nose.

"Each of these batches has to cost... at least three hundred spirit stones," he calculated swiftly.

He looked at the other trays. All fifty were identical.

"That’s fifteen thousand spirit stones’ worth of ingredients. Just for me."

His heart thudded once in his chest.

He looked around.

Each of the one thousand participants today had the same arrangement, fifty full batches.

Even the worst alchemist could afford to fail dozens of times.

"Wait... fifteen thousand spirit stones per person, and there are a thousand participants here today..."

His fingers twitched.

He did the math in his head and his eyes widened.

"That’s fifteen million spirit stones... for one day of tests."

And then he remembered what the elder said, the examination would run for ten full days.

"That’s one hundred and fifty million spirit stones... just on pill ingredients."

He leaned back slightly, stunned.

"That doesn’t even include the cauldrons, the formations, the security, the building of this entire arena, or the expenses to house, feed, and manage everyone..."

He looked up at the colossal arched ceiling overhead, light filtering down through massive blue crystal chandeliers.

"The entire setup must’ve cost over two hundred million spirit stones," he breathed.

A sense of awe began to creep into his chest, not just at the Blue Cauldron Sect’s wealth, but at their sheer commitment.

"They’re not just recruiting," he muttered. "They’re rebuilding."

He recalled the rumors, a beast tide had ravaged the sect the previous year.

Entire cohorts of disciples had perished. A tragedy, yes, but more importantly, a vacuum.

They needed alchemists.

Not just talented ones, reliable, battle-tested, and desperate to prove themselves.

"Is that why they’re throwing resources like this? They want to attract every potential alchemist in the southern continent..."

He exhaled deeply and looked back down at the ingredients.

The thought of spirit stones faded from his mind.

Because this wasn’t about gold anymore.

It was about opportunity.

His opportunity.

He took one of the trays and laid out the ingredients on his station with practiced calm.

Just as John was about to begin refining, a sudden thought flashed across his mind like a gust of wind disrupting calm water.

"Wait..." he paused, glancing down at the ingredients laid carefully in front of him.

"My Alchemy is already at Level Five. I’ve refined Grade Three pills with ease, and this one, though Grade Four, isn’t out of my reach. With my current skill level, I should have at least a seven to ten percent success rate..."

He leaned slightly forward and tapped his fingers rhythmically against the counter, eyes narrowing.

"That means, statistically, I’ll succeed within ten batches at most." His brows knitted tightly. "But... would that look suspicious?"

His gaze drifted sideways toward Riara, who was busy inspecting the herbs with a proud and focused expression.

He recalled her earlier words, boastful and loud, "If I refine a hundred batches, I can make a single pill!"

He frowned deeply.

"If someone like her, raised in a massive alchemist clan, trained from childhood, claims it takes a hundred tries... then what happens if I do it in less than ten?"

He scanned the crowd again, observing dozens of participants who were nervously flipping through the scroll or arranging their herbs with trembling hands.

Most of them were clearly overwhelmed by the complexity of a Grade Four pill.

"Performing too well might draw the wrong kind of attention..." he muttered.

His thoughts twisted in several directions all at once.

"On one hand, the sect clearly wants talent. They’re investing millions, no, hundreds of millions, into this examination. If I impress them, I might not just get selected; they might personally nurture and protect me. That could be a huge advantage."

He tapped the cauldron rim lightly.

Clink. Clink.

"But if I stand out too much... I might also become a target. Envy is poison in the martial world. If someone powerful gets jealous, I could be dragged into unnecessary trouble."

He folded his arms and stared down at the ingredients again, his flame dancing calmly beside him.

"What should I do?"

He fell silent, his mind a battlefield of strategy and instinct.

Seconds passed. Dozens. Then minutes.

Finally, he exhaled slowly, the tension in his chest fading as his thoughts aligned.

"There’s risk in shining too bright, yes. But playing small offers no real protection either," he muttered.

"The weak get ignored... until they’re crushed by stronger feet without even a thought. If I underperform, I’ll only fade into the crowd."

He scratched the back of his head and gave a dry chuckle. "Aaa... I’m overthinking this."

Tilting his head up, he glanced around the massive arena once more.

The test had just begun. No one had succeeded yet.

"I’ll keep my pace calm for now. Let others rush and fail. I’ll only accelerate after someone else successfully finishes a batch. That way, I can still look competent, but not suspiciously fast."

He took a calming breath, settling his spirit and focusing his mind.

His fingers moved with steady precision as he picked up the first batch of herbs.

He wasn’t aiming for success this time, just to feel the rhythm, the timing, the reactions.

"I’m a hundred percent sure this first attempt won’t succeed," he muttered quietly.

"But I’ll take it slow. Get into the flow. Let them underestimate me."

With a faint smirk, he ignited his blue flame under the cauldron and began the meticulous process of preparing the first batch, grinding, combining, and purifying each herb with smooth, practiced movements.

His posture was relaxed, deliberate, almost meditative.

An hour had barely passed when John’s heart suddenly jolted.

A strange pressure prickled at the back of his neck.

He instinctively looked up from the cauldron, his eyes narrowing.

"I have finished," came a calm, confident voice from ahead.

John’s eyes widened in disbelief.

A grey-robed young man, no older than him, stood up from his station, holding a completed pill in a jade bottle.

The massive hall fell into a sudden hush. Dozens of participants turned their heads in unison, including John.

The young man had shoulder-length blond hair, tied loosely at the back, and piercing blue eyes that gleamed like sapphire under the sunlight filtering through the translucent roof.

His features were handsome, almost elegant, and his movements held a natural grace.

He walked with measured steps toward the central platform where the sect disciples waited, confidence radiating from his posture.

John blinked. "He’s already done?" he muttered, eyebrows creasing. "It’s only been an hour. Even if I wanted to rush, it’d still take time to finish the process properly..."

His hands paused briefly over the herbs in front of him.

He hadn’t even completed his first batch yet. Is this what a real alchemy genius looks like?

A snort came from beside him.

"Hmph, bumpkins like you really have no idea how big the world is," Riara’s voice rang out, laced with condescension.

She smirked, her arms crossed, still standing upright with untouched ingredients before her. "Can’t you see the golden insignia on his robe?"

John turned his head slightly. "I saw it. But I don’t recognize the symbol."

Riara scoffed, as if offended by his ignorance. "Of course you don’t. That’s the Roaming Earth Clan’s crest. One of the biggest beast-taming clans in the entire Wild Southern Continent."

"Beast tamers?" John raised an eyebrow.

"Yes," Riara nodded smugly, clearly pleased to lecture. "They specialize in taming spirit beasts, but more than that, they cultivate beast flames. Powerful, rare flames refined from spiritual beasts. It’s said that their inner disciples can forge pill flames stronger than any human-trained alchemist."

John’s gaze drifted back to the golden insignia, a roaring wolf atop coiled earth, emblazoned across the chest of the grey robe.

The young man reached the central stage, passed his jade bottle to one of the blue-robed sect examiners, and stood proudly with his hands behind his back.

Riara continued, "That guy must be one of their core members. With a high-level beast flame, it’s no surprise he could refine a Grade Four pill so fast."

John nodded silently. I see... so the gap between flames really does make a huge difference.

Just as the murmurs were rising again among the crowd, another voice echoed loudly across the hall.

"I’ve finished too!"

This one was more brash, almost boastful.

John turned toward the voice.

A fat youth in golden robes had stepped forward, his round face flushed with excitement.

He carried his jade bottle triumphantly in both hands, lifting it above his head like a trophy.

He waddled toward the front with surprising agility, his robes swaying with each step.

His outfit was far more flamboyant than the first youth’s, stitched with gold thread and jewels embedded into his belt.

He looked every bit the wealthy young master.

Riara let out a chuckle. "Oh, that’s Brandon Flamewell. He’s from the Flamewell Chamber of Commerce, the richest alchemy-based merchant group in the southern continent. His clan is so loaded, it’s said they buy talents and feed them pills just to train one or two geniuses a generation."

John’s brow lifted again. "So another backed genius."

"Exactly," Riara smirked, then glanced sideways at John. "Do you get it now? This test isn’t just about skill, it’s about resources, heritage, and connections. Even a genius can drown in a sea of prodigies if he doesn’t have the background to match."

John didn’t respond.

He simply looked back at the growing lineup of sect examiners, now accepting two completed batches from the first finishers.

Whispers filled the air again.

More eyes shifted toward the still-struggling majority.

John closed his eyes for a brief moment, taking in a long breath.

It’s started.

The timer is ticking.

The competition has begun in full.

Then he looked down at his cauldron, tightened his jaw, and returned to his work.

"My plan to stall was stupid, if this goes on and more people like him came then it is possible that I might not have a chance even if I want." he thought and his eyes sharpened.