When Kyrian left the alchemy competition arena, the sound of tens of thousands of spectators could still be heard behind him, a wave of applause and cheers that seemed determined to follow him through the corridors.
Even after passing through one of the side exits, where the echo of the voices faded against the stone walls, the applause continued to reverberate through the corridors of the Sky Caravan. It was a vibrant testament to the impact his victory had caused.
His name had spread through the arena like fire through dry straw, repeated by hundreds of voices in a chorus of admiration and disbelief.
Kyrian. First place. Ninety-five percent purity. Three rank 5 pills. A reconstruction of the recipe that had impressed even the elders of the Alchemists Association, who had witnessed countless competitions throughout their long careers.
But Kyrian had no intention of staying there to listen to the comments, receive congratulations, or enjoy the momentary glory.
