Rise Of The Infinite Sovereign

The alchemist's atmosphere began changing as he moaned, his bones snapping as he stretched.

Moments later, the glow receded.

The alchemists were still wide eyed when a nauseous scent brought them back to reality.

"Oh my!"

"How horrible!"

…!

Bard had clippers on his nose, so he smiled as the gathering descended into chaos.

Oleg desperately held his mouth, his eyes becoming wet at the horrible smell.

Coating their hands in mana, they covered their faces.

The one smelling hastily excused himself as maids rushed in to clean the mess.

After a few minutes, they settled down, their breathing back to normal.

Oleg didn't let them get comfortable though.

"Sirs, what are the results?"

Bard's aura erupted, silencing everyone.

"I believe it'd be best to wait for Sir Helder before any decisions are made, yes?"

They nodded fearfully.

Ten minutes later, Helder arrived, clean and cleansed of his foul smell.

"Sir Helder-"

Bard took the initiative.

"-how do you feel?"

Helder smiled, taking a pose…

"Far better than I've felt for the past year. It's better than most I've come across"

"Most?"

"A potion from Vonnamor has a similar feeling"

"Hmm"

"Is it weird that I even feel a bit stronger?"

Bard noded.

"It is to be expected. Unlike other body cleaning potions, this cleanses 75% of one's impurities and has the effect of bone strengthening, working for those in the Expert-rank and below"

Others chipped in.

"This is great!"

"It'll be of tremendous help to our men at the war front"

With the momentum tilted to one side, others were quick to join the bandwagon.

"Sir Bard has outdone himself this time"

"I agree!"

The last one interjected…

"Sir Bard's creation is wonderful, but I dare say Sir Oleg's is better"

The atmosphere quietened, but Bard didn't.

"So, good Sirs, what do you say? Who is the victor?"

"Sirs, let's not be hasty" said Oleg.

Bard wasn't having it.

"Sirs, do be hasty, for I will not answer any such calls after this"

One of his supporters rose to action.

"I say we vote, make this quick and easy. I take sir Bard as the victor"

Others rushed to shush him, but another spoke.

"I take Sir Bard as victor"

The others looked around, acting fast.

"So do I!"

"Same here"

All eyes turned to the last member, who raised his hands slowly.

"I take…Sir Bard as victor"

Oleg was aghast.

"Huh???"

He couldn't believe what he was hearing.

What happened to all they said about supporting him?

The supporter looked away, pretending not to hear.

Veins pulsed as Oleg's anger peaked.

Alas-

"I believe that concludes it" said Bard.

"Oleg, you are henceforth stripped of title of Vice Head Alchemist"

-that was all he could do.

'This can't be happening!' thought Oleg.

"You can't do this!" he shouted.

Bard gave him a funny look.

"Do what? You did this to yourself"

"No! I will not accept it. This gathering has plotted against me. I seek of the intervention of the Advisor"

Other alchemists facepalmed.

'Of all things'

'This idiot'

Bard was furious.

"Do you understand the meaning of your actions?!"

Oleg sneered.

"Don't lecture me about-"

"Mind your tone boy!" a shout had Oleg promptly shutting up.

Bard had more than half a decade more than him in age.

Minutes later, the alchemists arrayed themselves in Bolton's quarters.

Bard was annoyed, while Oleg was joyful.

'With his words, I'll be keeping my position'

Since they were in cahoot, the result was a foregone conclusion.

Was what he thought moments ago.

'Damn!'

"If you take Oleg's claims to be true. I'll have to withdraw from creating anymore of my potions, since Niton seems to already have too much of it"

He didn't think Bard could say such words.

Now, Bolton had to choose between Oleg keeping his position and Bards potions.

Sure enough, Oleg's fears came true.

"I declare the claims of the Vice Head Alchemist as false"

Oleg held his head in woe.

But Bard wasn't done.

"Sir Bolton, this act is an insult not only to me, but to the Royal Alchemists. I demand Sir Oleg to pay the price"

He turned to those behind him.

"What do my fellow alchemists say?"

Having been insulted, these men nodded fiercely.

You should never touch a man's pride.

"Sir Bolton. Strip him of his rank as a Royal Alchemist"

They halted, wasn't this too much?

"You can't do that!" Oleg shouted.

Bolton waved.

"Sir Bard, that is too much" he said and the alchemists nodded.

"Then…the alchemic potion"

"What of it?"

Bard turned, giving the alchemists knowing looks, before turning back.

"It's recipe, that should suffice"

The alchemists quickly caught on.

'This..!'

'How ruthless!'

Taking the recipe meant that they could sell it, effectively halving whatever revenue Oleg would get from it. Maybe even as, since they were six, they could produce it faster than he could.

Thinking about the revenue, they got excited.

Even if the revenue was shared six ways, it would give them a substantial amount, because war was ongoing.

Quickly, they rallied.

"Have him hand over the recipe"

"Yes, give it"

"The blood boiling one" one clarified.

With everyone saying one thing, the advisor wasn't given the chance to object.

The royal alchemists held sufficient authority to made it so.

Bolton cracked, reluctantly saying…

"Very well. Sir Oleg, you are to hand over the Blood Boiling Potion recipe"

Oleg couldn't understand, what was this?!

At first, he was going to call off the challenge because his potion wasn't anything spectacular.

Then the Blood Boiling Potion came along, and Oleg was sure he would win.

Now, not only had he lost, he had lost woefully.

His hard earned position had been relinquished. The card he pulled - Bolton - betrayed him. And now, the recipe he went through so much to get was to be taken as well.

He gave a deadly glare, but Bard glared back.

Who was he kidding? Bard was a Master-rank fighter, while he was capped at Expert-rank - so were the rest, with one being late Advance-rank. Though, they were all Master-rank alchemists.

Rank in profession and cultivation were different.

Excluding Bard and Oleg, the rest had but one recipe under their belts.

It also proved how hard making potions were.

Regardless, Oleg had just taken his biggest loss.

Bard was satisfied. He wanted to get rid of him, but this would do.

With that concluded, the proceedings were fast and, by afternoon, they had gone back to their separate chambers.

Ezra sat opposite Fredrick in his cottage.

"So you'll be heading into seclusion, and if I know you, it'll probably be for years to come"

Fredrick folded his arms with a smile.

"You're more obsessed with strength than any of the ones I've seen. And at such a young age…What could you possibly be trying to achieve?"

Ezra growled.

"That isn't any of your business!"

"Woah-"

He raised his hands in defeat.

"-seems I struck a nerve"

Ezra calmed down with a sigh.

"Ignore what I just said"

Fredrick swiftly changed topics.

"If you're secluded, how am I supposed to contact you?"

Ezra smiled.

"With these" he then took out the communication items he brought from the Missionary.

That, alongside a slew of other items and herbs.

Fredrick stretched to grab it, but Ezra pulled it back a bit.

"Hmm?"

Ezra gave him a deep look.

"How do I know?"

"Know..?"

"How do I know that I can trust you?"

Fredrick raised a brow.

"We signed a soul contract. Isn't that enough?"

"It's been enough so far, but what happens when you achieve Grandmaster-rank? After all, you will be able to nullify it with ease. You should be on your way there with the mana stones in your possession"

"Mana stones in my possession?"

"You expect me to believe that you didn't take a single piece for yourself?"

Fredrick sighed.

"Hah…you saved me from certain death, becoming the benefactor of my life. I believe it was the least I could do"

Ezra was taken aback, but shook his head in disbelief.

"If I give you this. What's to say you won't toss me aside?"

Fredrick calmed.

"Why are you only asking me this now?"

"What?"

"You trusted me enough to give me your space ring. You trusted me to deliver with a plan to guide me, even when there was nothing stopping me from running away with the loot. The soul contract? A decent spirit mage could easily have it nullified. And I know you know this. Cabrera's memory would be erased, or not, as I could easily dispose of him. And like you, head into seclusion. And with that many mana stones, hitting Mythical-rank should be easy.  From then on, I'll be Orion's apex predator. Yet, knowing all this. I came back. With all this, I doubt anything remains to confirm where my loyalty lies"

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