Last Gun Alchemist

BOOOOOMMMMMMMM!!!!

The collision between the blue bolt and the white flames caused a huge distortion across the arena.

The already violent wind became even stronger.

It swept across the fight platform and rushed toward the spectator stands, carrying dust, pieces of broken stone, melted snow, and traces of blue lightning through the air.

The Force Field surrounding the battlefield held firmly, but its surface shook under the pressure.

Ripples spread across the invisible barrier.

The sight alone was enough to make many spectators move farther back in their seats.

Some people grabbed the edges of their chairs.

Others instinctively covered their faces.

For a few seconds, several spectators genuinely feared that the Force Field might collapse.

The whole arena shook.

The enormous structure of the Royal Academy Combat Festival seemed to tremble beneath the power released by the final clash.

Dust and snow that had gathered across the upper sections of the arena roof were shaken loose. They fell from above in small avalanches, scattering over the walkways and the spectator stands.

Royal Academy staff immediately moved through the seating areas.

Some helped ordinary spectators who had lost their balance.

Others supported Low-ranking Alchemists below the Half-Novice Star and those around the Novice Alchemist rank, helping them remain on their feet as the arena continued to shake.

A few young children were held tightly by their parents.

Their parents pulled them against their bodies and shielded their eyes from the immense blue-white light filling the arena.

Even some adults struggled to keep their eyes open.

The brilliance was simply too strong.

The blue lightning and white flames had swallowed almost the entire view of the battlefield.

Nobody could properly see Vera.

Nobody could properly see Maxwell.

For those without enough Cognis, the final exchange had become nothing more than a violent mass of light.

At the seating section of the High Powers of the Kingdom, the situation was different.

The Queen remained seated inside a Cognis field that wrapped around the entire section.

The Head of the Nebula Royal Alchemist Branch maintained the protective field.

She had not only protected the Queen from the intense light and distortion.

The field also covered the two Duchesses of Ashenlocke, Veda Ashenlocke, Bale Ashenlocke, Byron Ashenlocke, as well as the servants and guards who were not strong enough to look directly at the blue light mixed with white.

The protective field allowed them to continue watching.

But even then, the brightness remained overwhelming.

The other noble seating areas were protected in a similar way.

The personal guards of the Duchesses, many of whom were Low-ranking Alchemists or ordinary humans, protected their Mistresses with their own Cognis field as they continued watching the brilliance created by the clash.

Nobody wanted to miss the end.

This was the final match of the Grand First-Year Combat Festival.

The entire Kingdom had been watching.

And now, the battle between the two strongest remaining First-Year students had reached its final moment.

The brilliance continued.

Seconds passed.

Then more seconds.

The light did not disappear.

It remained suspended over the battlefield, bright enough to make the arena resemble a second sun.

Eventually, however, it began to fade.

Slowly.

The white light weakened.

The blue lightning became less violent.

The wind gradually lost some of its force.

And the first thing the spectators could see was not the fighters.

It was the remaining traces of their attacks.

Blue streaks of lightning and fragments of white flames drifted down from the sky.

They fell gently, almost like starlight descending from the heavens.

The sight was clearer than it had been during the original collision.

The tiny pieces of energy scattered through the arena and disappeared whenever they touched the damaged ground.

Almost every spectator stared upward.

Their eyes reflected the falling blue and white light.

For a moment, the entire arena was strangely quiet.

After all the shouting, gunfire, explosions, and cheers, the silence felt almost unnatural.

Then a figure appeared in the air.

Maxwell.

His body was falling.

Smoke drifted from his clothes and skin.

His training clothes had been torn in several places, and cuts and burn marks could be seen across his body.

His arms hung heavily.

His legs barely moved.

His golden flames were gone.

The halo above him had disappeared.

There was no strength left to keep him suspended in the air.

I can’t move my body anymore.

The thought came to him as his body continued descending.

Maxwell tried to move his arm.

Nothing happened.

He tried to move his leg.

It barely responded.

His Cognis flowed around his body, trying to restore control over his muscles and damaged tissues, but the blue lightning still reflected across his body.

The light seemed to have stunned his senses.

His breathing was rough.

His chest rose and fell as he struggled to keep himself conscious.

My White Flames lost.

His eyes remained fixed on the fading blue light.

It really lost.

For Maxwell, that realization was heavier than the pain.

He remembered when he had first created the White Flames.

It had been during the period when his Master, Andraver, was teaching him how to push the Path of the Sun further.

Andraver had never treated Sun Alchemy as something that had already reached its limit.

Even after becoming the strongest Alchemist in the Kingdom for a long period of time, and even after creating the Sun Alchemy Path himself, Andraver knew that the Path still had room to grow.

There were still more philosophies that could be added.

More ideas.

More ways to push the power of the Sun further.

But Andraver’s time was passing.

His life was approaching its end.

That was why one of the major parts of Maxwell’s training had been simple.

Create something new within Sun Alchemy.

Something that belonged to Maxwell.

Something that could take the Path further.

And Maxwell had done it.

He had created the White Flames.

The White Flames were created by highly concentrating and refining the Golden Flames of the Sun.

Unlike the normal Golden Flames, which disintegrated everything they came into contact with, the White Flames did the complete opposite.

Maxwell only needed to designate a specific target.

A focus target.

Instead of allowing the flames to spread their destructive power across everything around them, Maxwell could concentrate that power onto a single point and erase only the target he had chosen.

It was a pinpoint attack with extremely concentrated destructive power, designed to burn only the designated target until nothing remained.

Everything surrounding the target would be left mostly unharmed, feeling only the gentle warmth of the residual heat released by the White Flames.

He had truly created something powerful enough that he believed it would become his strongest move.

Something that could turn the outcome of a battle.

Something he had trusted.

And now it had lost.

Maxwell’s body continued falling toward the platform.

His mind struggled to remain awake.

His body was almost impossible to control.

He could already see the damaged platform below.

I really l—

”Lost.”

A plain voice echoed through the air.

Maxwell’s eyes widened.

The white glow in his eyes flickered, as the color slowly returned to normal.

He looked ahead.

Vera was there.

She had already reached him.

Maxwell’s mind barely had enough time to process her presence before her fist came toward his face.

The movement was fast.

The wind parted around her arm.

The fist carried the force of her natural physical strength, the Steel Dragon Art stance, with the boost of the Instant Force Art.

Maxwell recognized the stance.

He had seen it during the semifinal match between Vera and Diane.

He knew what it could do.

He knew the amount of natural force the stance could produce.

And now Vera had added Instant Force to it.

There was no time left to defend.

Not that he could even move his hand.

BAMMMM!!!

Vera’s fist slammed into Maxwell’s face.

The impact sent a shock through his entire body.

His head snapped backward.

”Argh!”

His body immediately began rotating through the air.

Once.

Twice.

Again.

The force of the punch sent him flying away from the platform.

BOOM!

Maxwell crashed outside the platform.

His body struck the ground hard enough to leave a deep impact in the earth.

Broken soil scattered around him.

For a few seconds, he remained there.

Then...

”Argh... Argh... Argh...”

He groaned.

Blood flowed from his mouth.

His nose had been cracked by the punch, and more blood dripped from it.

His Cognis exhaustion had already caused some bleeding before, but now it came faster.

Maxwell slowly raised his head.

His vision was blurry.

The arena looked distant.

But he could still see Vera standing on the damaged platform.

She was holding the hand she had used to punch him.

Vera looked at it.

Part of the bone in her hand had cracked from the force of hitting Maxwell’s face.

She had broken her own hand while punching him.

Yet her expression remained almost unchanged.

Her black eyes rested on Maxwell.

”I told you...”

Her voice was cold and casual at the same time.

”I’m an angry girlfriend, taking revenge for her Player. So, don’t think of losing that easily.”

Maxwell stared at her.

His expression became confused.

The words reached him.

He understood the individual words.

But together?

They made absolutely no sense.

Girlfriend?

His brows moved slightly.

Dancer?

What the hell was she talking about?

Maxwell coughed.

Cough! Cough!

Blood came out.

He weakly wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and looked at the blood for a moment.

His body hurt.

His face hurt.

His hand hurt.

Everything hurt.

But there was something else that was becoming obvious.

He had lost.

There was no need for the referee to explain it.

There was no need for the spectators to debate it.

Everyone watching had seen Vera’s final punch.

A young non-noble among the spectators stared toward Maxwell’s position.

”Lady Vera Ashenlocke won.”

The person turned toward the spectator sitting beside him as if he needed someone else to confirm what had just happened.

Another voice rose from the crowd.

”Wait, the Lady of Ash won!”

”She punched him out from the fight platform!”

”Lady Vera Ashenlocke is the winner of the Combat Festival!”

”She’s the number one student of the Royal Academy First Year!”

The voices spread through the arena.

One person shouted.

Then another.

Then dozens.

Hundreds.

The silence that had followed the final clash disappeared.

”WE HAVE A WINNER!!!!!!!”

Patrick West’s voice exploded through the arena speakers.

His announcement rolled across the entire stadium.

The spectators finally erupted.

At the First-Year seating section...

Nina Ashenlocke shot up from her seat.

Zack Ashenlocke stood beside her.

Lyra Ashburn rose as well.

Linda Balor, Fay Ashenlocke, Henry Ashenlocke, Bess Ashforge, Tracy Ashforge, and even Priscilla Ashenlocke all stood with the other First-Year students supporting Vera.

The section became a wall of noise.

”YEAHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!”

Nina’s face was filled with happiness.

”Lady Vera!!!!”

Her voice was nearly drowned out by the cheers around her.

Zack raised one hand.

”The Jewel of Ash!!!”

His voice was louder than his usual calm way of speaking.

”The Jewel of Ash!!!”

The words spread.

More First-Year students repeated them.

Then more spectators joined.

”The Jewel of Ash!!!”

”The Jewel of Ash!!”

”The Jewel of Ash!!!”

The entire arena answered.

The sound bounced from the walls and returned as an even louder roar.

Vera remained standing on the completely damaged platform.

Around her, the battlefield barely resembled the clean arena where the final match had started.

The ground had been broken apart.

Large sections were covered in cracks and holes.

Smoke still drifted from several places.

Fragments of melted stone remained scattered across the surface.

Some areas were still warm enough for steam to rise from them.

And in the middle of all that destruction stood Vera.

Her long black hair moved with the remaining wind.

Her training clothes were damaged in several places.

Both of her hands were injured badly.

Yet she remained standing.

And she had won.

At the seating section of the High Powers of the Kingdom, the reaction was no quieter.

”The Jewel of Ash!!!”

The Queen stood.

She held a Vera merchandise hand fan in one hand, waving it with a bright expression.

Beside her, two guards held Vera’s merchandise banner high above their heads.

”That’s my Vera!!”

Sasha shouted through a mouth speaker.

Her voice was loud enough to carry across the seating section.

Veda and Bale cheered brightly.

Duchess Hailey joined them.

Duchess Regina stood and clapped while looking toward Vera.

The sight of the Duchess of a powerful House standing and applauding only added to the weight of the moment.

Other High Nobles also rose from their seats.

Dukes.

Duchesses.

Elders.

High-Board members.

Counts and Countesses.

Viscounts and Viscountesses.

High-Embers.

High-Emberesses.

Low-Embers.

Low-Emberesses.

Barons.

Baronesses.

They all stood.

They clapped.

Some wore pleased smiles.

Others looked toward Vera with expressions that showed they were still trying to understand what they had witnessed.

Even people who had expected an impressive final match had not expected the battle to reach this point.

The cheers continued.

Then fireworks were launched into the sky.

BOOM!

BOOM!

BOOM!

BOOM!

Colorful explosions spread above the arena.

They pierced through the clouds and illuminated the sky over the Royal Academy.

The bright colors reflected across the remaining snow and smoke.

The cheers from the arena mixed with the sounds of the fireworks.

On Skynet, the live chat of Britannia had already gone wild.

Messages poured across the screens too quickly for ordinary viewers to read them all.

Praise for Vera filled the broadcast.

People talked about her final attack.

They talked about her speed.

They talked about the possibilities of her future sight being true.

They re-talked about her fight against Diane.

They talked about the final battle against Maxwell.

And above everything else, one name continued appearing again and again.

Vera Ashenlocke.

The Jewel of Ash.

The Grand First-Year Combat Festival Final Match had finally come to an end.

After all the battles.

After all the injuries.

After all the explosions.

After every First-Year student who had stepped onto the platform had fought for their position.

And only one student stood at the top.

Vera Ashenlocke.

The Jewel of Ash.