Chapter 492: Alchemy petition (3)
The old man crossed his arms, his eyes sweeping across the crowd of petitors.
“A thousand participants…” he murmured to himself, almost inaudibly.
“A number similar to the previous petition.”
At that moment, a figure calmly approached the platform. His footsteps were silent, but his presence was unmistakable.
It was Lio Han.
The old alchemist immediately recognized the approaching figure. As soon as he saw him, he smiled, the first smile of that morning.
“Elder Lio.” The old man’s voice was filled with respect.
“What a surprise to see you here. I didn’t expect you to attend the preliminary round.”
Lio Han simply nodded, his eyes briefly scanning the petition grounds. He had e to observe the petition for a short while before returning to the Association. He had many responsibilities, but the festival was an important event.
He stopped beside the old man, and both remained silent for a few moments, watching the petitors prepare themselves.
Then Lio Han casually asked, his voice low and calm.
“How many do you think will pass this time?”
The old man smiled faintly, the smile of someone who had made that estimate many times before.
“Around seven hundred… probably.” He made a vague gesture toward the tables.
“The first stage always eliminates only those who lack the ability to continue. Those who can’t control their flames, those who don’t understand the basic properties of herbs, those who lack the patience for the process.”
Lio Han nodded in agreement. It was a very reasonable estimate. The first stage wasn’t designed to eliminate the talented; it was a rough filter, meant only to remove those who were pletely unprepared.
The truly talented would pass without difficulty. That was expected, to a certain extent.
Then his eyes found someone in particular.
“Oh.” Lio Han let out a quiet sound, almost inaudible. A faint smile appeared on his lips, softening his usually stern expression.
“He’s here.”
The old man immediately turned his head, following Lio Han’s gaze.
“Who?”
Lio Han subtly pointed toward a young man dressed in a purple robe, standing motionless beside one of the stone tables.
The young man wasn’t talking to anyone, nor was he fidgeting nervously. He simply waited with a calmness that seemed out of place amid the general anxiety.
Kyrian.
“Hmm?” The old man observed him for a few seconds, his experienced eyes evaluating the young man.
There was nothing obviously remarkable about him, aside from his handsome appearance. His robe was simple, his posture serene, and there was no sign of wealth or status.
“Is there something special about that boy?”
Lio Han let out a soft chuckle, a rare sound ing from him.
“Him?” He slowly shook his head.
“Of course. Otherwise, he wouldn’t have caught my attention.”
The old man raised an eyebrow, his eyes narrowing with renewed interest. Lio Han rarely praised anyone. His nature was critical and demanding, and he never wasted words on empty pliments.
Especially not in that manner, with such confidence and certainty.
“Who is he?”
Lio Han continued looking at Kyrian, his eyes fixed on the young man who remained as still as a statue.
“Probably one of the most talented alchemists of the current generation.” His voice was calm, but filled with conviction.
“Better than practically every apprentice we have in the Association.”
The old man’s eyes widened slightly. That was a bold statement. The Alchemists Association of the Sky Caravan was renowned throughout the continent. Its apprentices were selected from among the best and trained by the very best.
“That good?” There was a hint of skepticism in the old man’s voice.
Lio Han simply smiled. A mysterious smile, filled with knowledge he had no intention of sharing.
“You’ll soon see what he’s capable of.” He slowly turned, preparing to leave.
“Well… good luck. I’ll return to the Association.”
The old man continued staring at Kyrian, his eyes now fixed on the young man in the purple robe.
“Hmm…” he murmured to himself.
“Very well.”
The two quickly said their farewells. A few moments later, Lio Han disappeared into the crowd, his silhouette vanishing among the spectator stands.
The old man turned his attention back to the vast petition grounds. But now… his gaze frequently lingered on Table Three Hundred Twenty-Seven. On that young man with violet eyes who showed not the slightest trace of anxiety.
Without Kyrian even realizing it, he had already caught the attention of one of the most important people in the petition.
…
A short while later…
A massive spiritual bell echoed across the entire plain.
‘Dong… Dong… Dong…’
The sound was deep and resonant, rippling through the air like waves across a lake. Each toll seemed to touch the souls of those present, silencing conversations and drawing everyone’s attention.
The conversations ceased immediately. A thousand alchemists turned their attention toward the main platform. A thousand pairs of eyes fixed themselves on the old man in golden robes.
The old man stepped forward. His voice, amplified by Qi, spread across the entire field like a gentle thunderclap.
“Wele to the preliminary round of the Celestial Descent Festival Alchemy petition.” He paused, his eyes sweeping across the crowd of petitors.
“In this first stage… we will evaluate only the fundamentals. We do not expect masterpieces. We do not expect innovative creations. Only fundamental petence.”
He raised one hand, a gesture that manded absolute attention.
“Each participant will receive, at random, the recipe for a Rank Three pill.”
As soon as he finished speaking, hundreds of assistants began walking between the tables. They wore blue robes bearing the Association’s emblem, their movements swift and efficient.
Each petitor received a small jade plaque. The plaques were smooth, cool to the touch, and contained information engraved within them through a spiritual formation.
Kyrian picked up his. The surface of the jade glowed briefly, and the information immediately appeared in his mind, not as written words, but as a direct stream of knowledge.
“Qi Gathering Pill.”
One of the most well-known recipes among beginner alchemists. A pill used to temporarily accelerate Qi absorption, helping cultivators recover their energy more quickly after battles or intense training sessions.
Very mon. Very useful. And relatively simple to refine.
Kyrian recognized the recipe immediately. He had already refined that pill dozens of times during his studies. Every step, every temperature, every waiting period, everything was engraved in his memory.
The old man continued, his voice echoing across the silent field.
“The ingredients have already been prepared at each workstation. Every petitor has exactly the same quantity and the same quality. There will be no excuses for failure.”
“You will have two hours.”
“Only participants who produce pills with more than eighty-five percent purity will be allowed to continue.”
As soon as he finished speaking, thousands of spectators began talking among themselves. Their murmurs rose like a wave.
“Eighty-five percent…” A man in the stands shook his head.
“That’s not so easy.”
“More than half will manage it,” his panion replied, her eyes fixed on the field.
“It depends on the recipe. Some are quite plicated, but the Qi Gathering Pill is one of the simplest.”
“Even so, eighty-five percent is a high standard for a preliminary round.”
“It’s the Celestial Descent Festival. The Association can’t accept just anyone.”
The petitors took deep breaths. Some clenched their fists, while others closed their eyes in concentration. The pressure was palpable, a tense atmosphere hanging over the field.
A moment later… the bell rang once more.
‘Dong!’
“The examination has begun.”
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