In the audience, the crowd had already sensed that something was off. Derek frowned and asked, "What exactly is happening here?" Before Chantelle could even respond, Clifford spoke with a complex tone, announcing to the entire venue. "Andrew has… passed with flying colors! His Golden Cure's color and potency are absolutely flawless! He's beaten Dr. Lake and Dr. Bozzelli!" A brief moment of dead silence followed. Then, came a roar, electrifying the entire venue. Not only had he passed, but he had also outperformed Mosby and Thomas. Someone asked, "How is this even possible?" Many people could not believe what they were witnessing. They thought Andrew's comeback was nothing short of miraculous. Rafael had kept a low profile since the Grand Medical Summit began, and he asked with a trembling voice, "Mr. Fuentes and Mr. Phelps, in your opinion, how much would this batch of Golden Cure be worth?" Clifford snorted and replied rather rudely, "Mr. Driscoll, just as expected of

"The tenth round will showcase the most advanced technique in ancient medical practice—alchemy!" Back at the judge's podium, Preston and Clifford announced the round with zero energy left in their voices, then slumped into their chairs in defeat. The Advanced Medical Institute had hosted the Grand Medical Summit countless times, and Preston and Clifford had presided over it just as often. However, none of the previous summits had ever been this draining, this chaotic, or this nerve-wracking. From the top platform, the two judges stared daggers at Andrew, their minds flickering with one vicious thought—if he could not be brought into the Institute, then he had to be eliminated for good. Three cauldrons had been set before the finalists—Mosby, Andrew, and Thomas. Compared to concocting the Golden Cure, alchemy was an even higher-level art, without question. Hence, it was also considered the pinnacle of ancient medical practice. Many of the spectators had never witnessed alchem

Andrew paused, stopping all movement. Then, in a calm voice, he said, "Qualified or not… we'll find out when the lids come off." Clifford was so furious that he actually laughed. "Fine! You really are the type who won't give up until you hit a wall." He returned to the podium and raised his voice. "Finalists, lift the lids and present your elixirs for judgment! Of course, high-grade pills beat low-grade pills; among pills of the same grade, the one with superior quality wins!" The entire arena held its breath as this was the most heart-pounding moment of the Grand Medical Summit. With a single reveal, the new champion would be decided. Someone said, "I'm rooting for Andrew! Who knows, maybe this dark horse really will pull off a miracle!" The person beside him scoffed. "Miracle? That's delusional. Dr. Lake's been the favorite to win from the start." Another chimed in, "Dr. Bozzelli's steady and skilled. I'd say he has the best shot at winning the title." "No point arguing

"Then I'd love to see if your ending is really any better than mine!" Thomas snapped, his defeat fueling the bitterness he now hurled at Andrew. The sting of failure had clearly twisted his mood, and Andrew became the target of his frustration. Meanwhile, Mosby stood with his hands behind his back, beaming toward the judges' platform. He said proudly, "Clifford, Preston, my fellow peers in medicine. You've all checked this kid's so-called elixir by now, haven't you? If my guess is right, what he made isn't even an elixir—it's just trash, plain and simple." He followed it up with another burst of arrogant laughter. He had noticed earlier that Andrew's cauldron had not released even a trace of medicinal aroma. It was like cooking a meal with no smell coming out—there could only be one conclusion: total failure. Just then, startled voices rose from behind, followed by the sound of hurried shuffling and clattering. "Huh? W-What is this…" Suddenly, Mosby's brow furrowed, wonder

Preston and Clifford finally came to their senses and burst out laughing. "That's right, Andrew. According to the Grand Medical Summit's rules, only passing the final round determines the outcome. Thomas ranked last in round ten, so naturally, he's eliminated. But you and Dr. Lake both cleared the round, which means rankings don't matter anymore. "In other words, the two of you are officially tied for first place! You don't get to take the full victory for yourself." A glimmer of hope returned to Mosby's face, and the Advanced Medical Institute crowd also perked up, regaining their confidence. Derek stepped forward, furious. "What a load of crap! I declare that Andrew is the true winner of the Grand Medical Summit!" Mosby sneered. "Governor McCormick, this is the medical world's law. If you try to override it with authority, I'm sorry, but I won't recognize it." Preston and Clifford quickly jumped in. "Governor McCormick, it's true. These are the official rules of the summi