Last Gun Alchemist

Ezra looked up, but all he could see was the white light still covering the arena around him.

The brightness had not completely faded yet.

It hung over the battlefield like a thin curtain, making the broken platform and the figures beyond it difficult to see clearly. The white flames still burned across the ground, spreading through the cracks that had been carved into the platform.

Ezra glanced slightly to his sides.

White flames were burning only a short distance from him.

They were strange.

Unlike Maxwell’s Golden Flames, which had disintegrated everything they touched, these white flames did not seem to carry the same destructive heat.

They looked almost gentle.

The warmth coming from them was enough for Ezra to feel it against his skin.

Yet the moment one of the white flames touched one of his remaining bullets, the projectile disappeared.

It was erased almost immediately.

And when another patch of white flame reached him, however, nothing happened.

The flame simply passed around his body.

Ezra stared at it for a moment.

Maybe it’s a flame that allows specific burning.

He thought about it plainly, his mind still working even though his body had already reached its limit.

Then his attention shifted downward.

Ezra was lying flat on his back.

His chest rose and fell with great difficulty.

Blood dripped from the corners of his eyes, his nose, mouth, and ears. Small cracks could be seen across parts of his skin, while the cuts he had sustained throughout the beginning of the match remained scattered across his body.

His clothes were damaged and stained from the battle.

Some sections had been burned.

Others were torn.

His arms rested beside him without moving.

Ezra tried to move one of his fingers.

Nothing happened.

He tried again.

Still nothing.

His muscles refused to respond.

The sensation was painfully familiar.

It was the same condition Willow Derlis had found herself in when he defeated her.

And now he was lying in that same helpless state.

Ezra had reached the exhaustion point of his Cognis.

There was no need for him to check his reserves.

He already knew.

He had lost.

”Ahh...”

Ezra sighed lightly.

There was no frustration in the sound.

Only exhaustion.

His eyes remained fixed on the white light above him.

I clouded my mind with the same tradition of the Gun concept even with the other-world knowledge I possess.

His thoughts moved slowly now, but they were clearer than he expected.

When I could have taken it further than that.

He closed his eyes for a brief moment.

The firearms he had created during the battle passed through his mind.

The artillery.

The rifles.

The Repeater Sword Rifles.

The M79s.

The Twin Vipers.

The MCX-SPEAR.

Each one had been built around the knowledge he had gained from the memories of his Past-self’s and the principles he had learned through Gun Alchemy.

Yet he could finally see the limitation.

I’ve always been waiting until I reach a higher Alchemist rank before I can properly utilize the stronger Guns.

His fingers twitched slightly against the damaged ground.

But there’s so much more to Gun Alchemy that I can improve.

His thoughts continued.

Especially how I can use this new ideology with the Nano Path to grow stronger.

The idea itself was enough to make his exhausted mind become slightly more active.

The types of Guns...

And the ammunition I can create.

There were countless possibilities.

Ezra had just only been scratching the surface.

All those fantasy stories that my past-self read will really come to use.

The idea he already had about creating a Mobile Ironstride Walker was already something he got from looking through the comics his Past-self read.

Even the ideas he had for the Nano Path had been influenced by what he saw in those comics.

But perhaps he had been approaching it from the wrong direction.

He had been relying heavily on only the modern firearms knowledge stored in the Book of Memories.

And he had been relying on the philosophy of Gun Alchemy that he had inherited and developed with his own understanding.

Those things were useful.

But they did not have to be his limit.

Instead of only using what I see from my Book of Memories and the Philosophy of Gun Alchemy...

His eyes slowly opened.

I can push further with my own ideals.

The thought remained in his mind.

Ezra’s exhausted expression softened.

I can grow further.

He thought about the things he would have to do after the tournament ended.

The things he wanted to create.

The firearms he wanted to improve.

The ammunition he could develop.

The different ways he could apply his knowledge.

And, most importantly, the Nano Path he still had to begin creating.

There was still so much waiting for him.

A faint excitement appeared in his mind.

It was strange.

He had lost the match.

His body could barely move.

Blood was still running down his face.

Yet a faint, satisfied smile rested on Ezra’s lips.

On the opposite side of the battlefield, another sound suddenly broke through the quiet.

”Ahhh... Ahhh... Ahh... Ahhh...”

Maxwell’s heavy breathing echoed across the damaged platform.

He was on his knees.

One hand pressed against the ground to keep himself upright.

Blood dripped from his knee, while his other arm hung at an unnatural angle from the damage it had suffered.

His golden eyes flickered.

For a brief moment, the golden color disappeared beneath a faint white glow.

Then the familiar golden color returned.

Maxwell’s vision was blurry.

The arena around him seemed to move whenever he tried to focus.

He could barely distinguish the spectators beyond the Force Field.

Even so, he refused to collapse.

His arms trembled as he tried to keep himself upright.

”Cough! Cough! Cough!”

Maxwell suddenly bent forward.

Blood splashed from his mouth and struck the damaged ground beneath him.

His breathing became even weaker.

He looked across the battlefield.

His golden eyes eventually settled on Ezra’s body.

The sight made Maxwell’s expression tighten.

He forced me to use this.

He remembered the white flames.

He remembered how close he had come to losing.

And he remembered the bullets.

If not, I would have lost.

Maxwell swallowed with difficulty.

His thoughts returned to the final exchange.

The bullets should not have been able to pass through his Sun Blast like that.

They had been fired from a Gun created by an Adept Alchemist.

Yet they had pierced through his defense.

His brows slowly drew together.

How did he even coat ammunition with the Law of Inversion?

Maxwell’s expression became one of complete bewilderment.

Is that even possible?

He had seen Ezra use the Law of Inversion against him at the beginning of their fight.

But this was different.

Ezra had not simply used the Law through his own body.

He had placed its opposing Cognis onto his ammunition and allowed the bullets themselves to carry the effect into contact with the Sun Alchemy.

The realization was difficult for Maxwell to accept.

His golden eyes remained on Ezra.

Every time we fought...

He kept finding a way to counter my attacks.

Every time, he would figure out a reply.

His fingers pressed harder against the ground.

Then the words came out of his mouth.

”I was lucky?”

Sweat ran down the side of Maxwell’s face and mixed with the blood near his cheek.

His voice was weak.

But there was a strange disbelief behind it.

He had won.

Yet calling himself lucky did not feel right.

The arena remained quiet for only another moment.

Then Patrick’s voice suddenly exploded through the speakers.

”Both Young Alchemists are down?!”

Immediately they heard his voice, the Spectators found their voices again, breaking the silence that filled the arena.

”Sir Ezra Ashenlocke!”

”Is he okay?!”

”White Flames?! What the hell is this?!”

”Wait, did any of you see the rifle Ezra Ashenlocke used at the final moments?”

”No, I didn’t see it!”

”I wonder who is the winner from this!”

”Look at the fight area!”

The spectators leaned forward.

Some stood from their seats.

Others gripped the railings in front of them.

The heels and shoes of countless spectators scraped against the floor as people moved closer to get a better view.

The entire audience was staring at the battlefield.

The fighting platform had been carved apart.

Deep marks stretched across its surface, some running through the stone like enormous blades had dragged themselves across it.

Bullet holes filled different sections of the ground.

Small pieces of broken stone were scattered everywhere.

Yet strangely, there was not the same kind of massive destructive aftermath that had appeared when Ravenor and Maxwell had clashed earlier.

The platform was damaged.

Deeply damaged.

But it had not been completely destroyed.

The white flames continued burning faintly around the battlefield, not only across the platform but also in several areas surrounding it.

Their soft glow reflected against the Force Field.

The sight was strange enough to make even experienced Alchemists stare.

At the commentators’ seating section, Patrick turned toward Professor Kent.

Kent remained seated.

His eyes were fixed quietly on the battlefield.

Both of his students were down.

Ezra lay motionless while Maxwell remained on his knees, barely holding himself upright.

Patrick leaned slightly toward Kent.

”Have you ever seen those white flames before, Professor?”

”No.”

Kent replied simply.

Patrick’s mouth opened.

He looked back toward the battlefield, then at Maxwell.

”Oh, my Scholars... I don’t even know what to say, but the winner is him, right.”

Patrick pointed toward Maxwell.

”Sadly, yes.”

Kent’s response was quiet.

His gaze remained on Ezra for a moment longer.

”You could say Maxwell was lucky.”

Kent’s eyes narrowed slightly.

”Who knew he had something like that up his sleeve.”

His words were simple, but his attention remained focused more on Ezra than Maxwell.

The white flames were not something Kent remembered Andraver ever displaying.

Nor had he ever seen Andraver possess an ability that looked like this.

That meant something.

This was likely something Maxwell had developed himself.

A new addition to the Path of the Sun.

But that was not the only thing that interested Kent.

His gaze settled on Ezra.

An Adept Alchemist.

A Gun Alchemist.

And yet this boy had forced a Meister Alchemist to reveal something new.

Not only that.

Kent’s eyes narrowed with interest.

”He coated his bullets with the Law of Inversion, giving them a new function.”

Patrick glanced toward him.

Kent continued.

”He isn’t even above the Arcanist Alchemist rank, where an Alchemist can begin making greater use of Law Symbols, which are part of the Master Symbols category. Those Symbols allow an Alchemist to integrate Concepts into their Alchemy attacks.”

His eyes remained on Ezra.

”But he did something slightly close to that.”

A faint grin appeared on Kent’s face.

”He found a way to carry the effect of the Law of Inversion through his ammunition and make the bullets interact with Maxwell’s Alchemy when they made contact.”

Kent’s grin became a little more noticeable.

”That could easily change the power gap between Gun Alchemists, even Combat Alchemy Paths, and the Nature Alchemy Paths.”

The possibility alone seemed to amuse him.

Ezra had not simply fired stronger bullets.

He had found another way to make a Gun interact with Alchemy.

And if that idea could be developed further, the implications were much larger than this single match.

Kent finally leaned back.

”Announce the winner, Patrick.”

He turned toward Patrick with a lazy expression, one hand moving slightly in the commentator’s direction.

”Alright.”

Patrick stood up and took the table microphone with him.

The movement immediately drew the attention of the nearby spectators.

He raised the microphone.

”Winner!!”

His voice echoed throughout the arena.

Every spectator turned their attention toward the commentator’s section.

Some looked toward the large speakers mounted around the arena.

Then Patrick announced it.

”Mr. Maxwell!!!!”

”WOOOOOAAAHHHH!!!”

The crowd erupted almost immediately.

Especially those who had been supporting Maxwell from the beginning.

”You did it, Maxwell!!”

”Nice fight!!”

”Honestly, I’m so amazed by your Alchemy skills!!”

”Who the hell are you?! How are you so strong!!”

The voices overlapped as people shouted their praise.

Maxwell still remained on his knees with both hands against the ground.

He could barely lift his head.

Yet the cheers continued to pour over him.

Then applause rose through the arena.

The sound began with several sections before spreading outward.

Many High-ranking Alchemists clapped their hands.

Powerful Nobles joined them.

The sound of hundreds of hands striking together soon became almost as loud as the cheering.

”You did well, Ezra Ashenlocke!”

Elder Portia shouted with a bright smile.

”The child is something special!”

Another voice came from the Low-Ember section.

The speaker was not even aligned with the Ashenlockes.

”You really make the Combat Path Alchemists proud!”

Another voice came from a different section.

”Against a power like that, and you forced him to this point? I’m amazed!”

The praise continued.

Not everyone had been supporting Ezra.

Not everyone had expected him to win.

But after witnessing the fight, even those who had doubted him could no longer dismiss what they had seen.

At the seating section of the High Powers of the Kingdom...

Duke Aldous Burnwick watched the battlefield.

”I didn’t know that a day would come when I would watch an actual Gun Alchemist push a person with the power of Sun Alchemy to this point.”

His gaze remained on Ezra as the medic staff finally reached him.

Several medics immediately knelt beside Ezra.

One checked his breathing.

Another examined his eyes and the blood running from his nose and mouth.

A third carefully placed a hand near his neck to check his condition before calling for the stretcher.

Duke Aldous then shifted his attention toward Maxwell, who was also being attended to by the medical staff.

The Duke of Galehart looked amused.

”I’m also very surprised.”

His eyes remained on the battlefield.

”I knew this child was interesting the time I saw him during his Phantom Rolls presentation. But who would have thought he would become more than just the Inventor of the Phantom Rolls?”

He spoke calmly, though the faint smile on his face showed that he was clearly impressed.

Nearby, the Duchess of Drakes stared toward Duchess Regine.

Regine was speaking with several of the other Duchesses from the different Duke Houses.

They were congratulating her on the performance of the Child of Ash.

The Duchess of Drakes looked back toward the battlefield.

Her eyes followed the medics as they began carrying Ezra away.

Then she glanced toward Maxwell.

Her expression changed slightly.

How did the Ashenlockes gain not only a child like Vera...

Her gaze returned to Ezra.

But now they have a child like Ezra Ashenlocke as well.

The thought made her sigh faintly.

”Ahh...”

She leaned back slightly in her seat.

I just hope their greed doesn’t ruin this child’s potential.

Her eyes followed Ezra as the medic staff carried him away on the stretcher.

The entire arena remained filled with loud cheering.

Bright smiles appeared across the stands.

Applause continued to echo through the Combat Festival grounds.

Even the people watching through the Skynet were sending massive replies about how much they had enjoyed the fight.

The battle between the Sun and the Gun had ended.

And although Maxwell had been declared the winner, the spectators had witnessed something they would not easily forget.

The Gun Alchemist had pushed the Sun Alchemist to his limit.

The white flames had appeared.

The Law of Inversion had been carried through bullets.

And Ezra had discovered that his own Path still had far more room to grow.

High above the arena, the Queen of Britannia watched the scene with a warm smile.

Her eyes followed the stretcher carrying Ezra away.

”Ezra Ashenlocke.”

She spoke his name softly.

”A promising child indeed.”

The Queen continued watching the battlefield for another moment.

Then her smile remained as she quietly added,

”Very promising.”