"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