The medicinal mass split apart, like a cell dividing into two, then into three. One sphere, then another, and finally a third, three small pinkish masses began to slowly rotate inside the container, each one a potential pill, each containing the essence of Kyrian's work.
Kyrian opened his eyes completely, his expression one of surprise.
"Three." His voice was low, almost a murmur, as if he were confirming the result to himself.
He had done it. Three pills, an amount that many experienced alchemists would consider a remarkable success, especially given the complexity of the recipe and the limited time available.
And, at that moment, something unexpected happened. The elder responsible for the competition rose from his chair, his movements slow but deliberate, his expression changing from professional calm to evident curiosity.
