"Anz, the Golden Dragon Cup martial competition has started registration. When are we going?"
Young Yaheng, with his hands behind his head, lay on a blood-stained metal dissection table, idly watching the sloppy teenager Anz tuning a potion.
"The registration period lasts a month, and it's only been three days since it started. What's the hurry?" Anz replied without looking up, focusing on adding alchemical materials to the crucible based on his deduced potion formula.
"Better to register early and get it over with. Waiting like this is so annoying."
"The Golden Dragon Duke's martial contest imposes no restrictions other than age, and given the substantial rewards, anyone of sufficient age will want to register.
It's only just started, so the crowd is going to be beyond our imagination. We might as well wait a few days to go over. Going now is just a waste of time."
"But I've already been to the registration site, just as you guessed, it's incredibly crowded, teeming with people everywhere." Yaheng's face lit up with excitement as he spoke. "I've never seen so many people crammed together in my life."
"Oh," Anz responded coolly.
"But, Anz, you guessed wrong. Since registration started, the number of people wanting to participate in the contest has only been increasing, not decreasing at all."
"Oh, that's normal."
"Anz, the registration process is actually very slow. Just verifying age takes a lot of time. There are many people over thirty trying to sneak in, and others who lie about their age to compete in lower age brackets."
At this point, remembering what he saw at the registration site, Yaheng sat up from the blood-stained dissection table with a look of amazement:
"Anz, do you know what I saw there? Some people were actually bringing their toddlers who had just learned to walk to register. Are they crazy? What can such small children do in a contest? They can neither use combat skills nor cast spells."
"People will do anything if the stakes are high enough." Anz paused his potion crafting briefly and quoted something he had read in a book left by a sage.
"So, what's the kingdom doing about it? They can't just let those blinded by greed qualify for registration, can they?"
"Children who have not cultivated any combat qi or psychic power are not allowed to enter the registration site and disrupt the order." Yaheng scratched his head, somewhat sentimental. "Even with this new rule, there are still many children who meet the criteria and can participate in the contest. There are just too many geniuses emerging in our generation."
"Geniuses?" Anz, who was mixing potions, shook his head. "When a small part of the population achieves better results than the majority with the same effort, those individuals can be called geniuses. But when everyone achieves the same results, there's nothing special about that; they're just ordinary people."
"So, Anz, you who could concoct bronze-level potions at ten and gold-level potions by eighteen, aren't you a genius?" Yaheng asked with a laugh.
"Fifty years ago, I could have been considered a somewhat talented potion maker. Now, I'm just an ordinary alchemist."
"Huh?" Yaheng, surprised by his childhood friend's humility, gaped. "By your standards, am I not just a very ordinary silver warrior?"
"Yes, what else?" Anz looked up at the young man sitting on the dissection table, who seemed a bit displeased. "Reaching the peak of Silver Tier V at sixteen would have been impressive thirty years ago.
But now, in our small, unknown city in the province of Imbec, there are several young people whose abilities could rival yours.
That's just the famous ones. If you add those who hide their names and faces, the number would only be greater.
And that's just in our small town. How many similar youths might there be across the province, or even the whole country?
One thing is certain: there are definitely younger people stronger than you, and they are not few in number. So, you're just an ordinary young man, not a genius."
"I..." Yaheng opened his mouth to retort but couldn't find the words. Even he had to admit Anz made sense, especially since there were indeed so many 'geniuses' now that the term hardly seemed to apply anymore.
"I'm just holding back my true abilities for now to achieve higher feats in the future. I could break into the Gold Tier anytime I want; none of those guys in our city could stand against me."
"Do you think you're the only one holding back?" Anz countered.
"..." Yaheng fell silent, trying to change the subject. "Anz, the number of participants for our combat competition isn't decreasing, but there are very few alchem
ists registering for your competition."
"Bang!" As he spoke, a burst of colorful smoke rose from the crucible in front of Anz, accompanied by a strange fragrance.
Seeing his potion fail and instead producing a toxic gas, Anz remained unfazed. After ventilating the poison gas using a preset ventilation array, he turned to Yaheng. "Let's go!"
"Where to?"
"To register, of course. You said there are few alchemists participating, right?"
"..."
... At the alchemists' registration site.
"Haven't you read the announcement? Grand Duke Muria has decreed that only alchemists under thirty can register. Master, you must be at least in your fifties or sixties by now."
When Anz and Yaheng arrived at the alchemists' registration, the official looked at Anz, dressed in an alchemist's robe, with a sneer.
In recent days, too many alchemists trying to conceal their age to sneak into the competition had frustrated them, especially given alchemists' esteemed social status, which tended to make them act arrogantly.
Whenever these elderly alchemists were found out, they would scold the officials. Constantly being yelled at would wear down even the most patient person.
"I'm only eighteen this year." Anz, mistaken for a middle-aged man in his forties or fifties because of his unkempt beard, which made him look much older than his actual age, instantly darkened in expression.
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