Last Gun Alchemist

Two weeks passed just like that.

Ezra finished his morning training early, his breathing steady as he wiped the sweat from his neck with a cloth. After that, he went to eat, then returned to his room to clean up.

Now, he stood in front of the mirror.

The reflection staring back at him wore the Ashenlocke military cap, the symbol placed neatly at the front. His coat rested properly on his shoulders; his gloves fitted tightly around his fingers.

He adjusted the cap slightly.

Let’s go.

He turned and left the room.

Outside, doors were opening one after another. Candidates stepped out, some quiet, some stretching their arms, others already walking ahead without looking back. Their footsteps overlapped in the hallway as they all moved toward the same direction.

The arena.

The air along the path felt different.

It wasn’t because of fear nor was it because of worry.

It was something sharper.

Expectation.

That something interesting was about to happen, and everyone could feel it.

The arena was already filled when Ezra arrived.

Rows of candidates stood in formation; all dressed the same. White inner shirts, black long coats resting behind them, caps fixed properly, gloves tight, trousers for the boys and skirts for the girls with black leggings fitting neatly. Their space bags were strapped diagonally across their bodies.

No one looked relaxed with their breathing steady and eyes were focused.

Patiently waiting.

Then, a few minutes passed...

The opposite entrance opened.

Raymond, Kyle, and Freya stepped in, followed by two other chief guards. The four men moved up to the seats above the arena and sat down, their gazes fixed on the candidates below without speaking.

Freya stepped forward alone.

Her boots made a light sound against the platform as she climbed up, stopping at the center. She looked around slowly, her eyes scanning the entire arena as if she was counting, measuring or confirming something, then she nodded once with a small smile appearing on her lips.

”Alright everyone...” She spread her arms slightly. ”Let’s begin the seventh trial.”

The reaction was immediate.

Confusion and slight frowns.

Some glanced at each other, others looked around as if expecting something else to happen.

No instructions, no explanation.

Just that.

Then...

The entrance where Freya and the other chief guards walked out from.

Two guards walked out first.

Behind them...

A group of children followed, they were around the same age, with a lot of them looking older.

Their numbers matched exactly with the same number as the remaining candidates.

Ezra’s eyes narrowed slightly with everyone noticing the same thing.

First, they were commoners. That much was obvious.

Second, every single one of them carried Cognis and not weak Cognis, it flowed around them in a controlled way.

And third, their eyes. Those eyes weren’t unfamiliar to the candidates.

They were the same kind of eyes seen on people who had faced death and survived many times.

Immediately, the arena grew louder with whispers.

”Who are they?”

”They all have Cognis...”

”I don’t like the way they’re looking at us...”

”Are we fighting them?”

Whispers spread quickly, growing louder with each second.

”Enough.”

Freya’s voice cut through everything.

The noise stopped instantly.

”As you can see,” she said calmly, turning slightly and pointing behind her, ”these are the Orphans of Ashenlocke.”

Orphans...

The word settled heavily.

Eyes shifted again, this time with more attention.

”Just like you, children of Ashenlocke,” Freya continued, ”they have gone through training. Harsh training. They were raised to become soldiers of this family.”

She turned back.

”So...”

A small smile formed.

”This seventh trial will be a friendly contest.” She pointed forward. ”Children of Ashenlocke.”

Then behind her.

”Versus the Orphans of Ashenlocke.”

Some candidates straightened unconsciously.

”This will be a one-on-one battle with each side sending one person. The winner is decided when the opponent can no longer fight.”

She paused.

”For the orphans...”

Her tone changed slightly.

”You are not allowed to kill, but you may inflict fatal injuries.”

Then she looked at the candidates.

”As for you...” A short pause. ”You may choose to kill or... the other.”

Silence followed.

”For the orphans who win,” she continued, turning back to them, ”they will be granted the right to be adopted into the family.”

Then...

She faced the candidates again.

”For those of you who wins...”

Her smile returned.

”You may take your defeated opponent as your personal servant.”

A few eyes twitched.

”But if you lose...”

Her expression changed cold with the air tightening instantly.

”...nothing will happen.”

She suddenly smiled again as if nothing had changed.

The disbelief in the arena was obvious, no one said anything, but their eyes said everything.

”Ah...” Freya placed a hand on her chest lightly. ”You don’t believe me?”

No one responded.

”But that’s fine.”

She stepped down from the platform.

”Let the seventh trial truly begin.”

Immediately, guards carrying a ballot box moved toward the candidates, their boots making steady sounds against the ground as they approached. At the same time, another group of guards walked toward the orphans, holding the same kind of box.

One by one, everyone reached inside and picked a ball.

The small metal spheres clinked softly as they were drawn out, each person checking the number engraved on it before closing their first around it.

Soon, everyone had their number.

On the side of the children of Ashenlocke, whispers quickly began to spread again, voices overlapping in low tones as they compared numbers, speculated, and glanced toward the other side.

Meanwhile...

The orphans remained silent with not a single one of them speaking.

Their eyes moved slowly across the arena, landing on faces one after another, measuring, observing, quietly deciding who they would be facing.

The difference in atmosphere between the two sides was clear.

After a few minutes, when everyone had settled and taken their places sitting as a holographic image appeared above the platform.

00

The glowing numbers hovered in the air, flickering faintly.

Then...

They changed.

01

A guard stepped onto the platform, his presence firm.

”Those with number one, step forward.”

His voice carried across the arena clearly without needing to be raised.

From the orphan side...

A tall boy stepped forward.

He looked around sixteen.

His body was slim, but the muscles along his arms and legs were defined, not bulky but trained. His limbs were long, giving him a slightly stretched appearance as he walked with slow, steady steps toward the platform.

In his hand, he carried a kusarigama.

The blades rested against his shoulder as if it weighed nothing.

From the other side...

Vera stood.

The movement was calm, almost casual.

Immediately, Nina and several girls beside her stood up as well.

”Good luck, Lady Vera!!!”

Their voices rang out together, echoing through the arena.

Vera didn’t turn fully.

She lifted her hand slightly and waved, a small, relaxed smile on her lips as she walked forward.

Behind her, more voices joined in, the cheering growing louder as members of her group added their support.

She walked without rushing with each step, even and measured.

As if this was nothing more than a routine task.

”This is quite surprising,” Veda said, his arms folded across his chest as he watched the stage. His expression remained calm, but his eyes were focused.

”A fight against another group that went through the same training as us,” Ezra replied, his gaze following Vera as she moved.

”The win and lose conditions feel a bit... plain,” Tracy added, resting her chin on her palm as she looked ahead.

”But for the orphans, it means everything,” Veda said, turning his head slightly toward her.

Linda crossed her legs as she spoke.

”I don’t know about you, but I wouldn’t mind having a personal servant who can fight and an Alchemist at that. Think about it, an Alchemist as a bodyguard without having to pay for one.”

She tilted her head slightly.

”You know how hard it is to hire an alchemist as a guard. It costs too much.”

”That’s true when you say it like that,” Tracy replied with a small nod.

”Well,” Nickolas suddenly said, ”it’s a good thing Lady Vera is going first.”

”Huh?”

They all turned to him.

”Why?” Linda asked.

”To set the tone,” Veda answered before Nickolas could respond. ”The first match matters.”

”And how you win matters even more,” Ezra added quietly.

”Yeah,” Veda nodded once.

On the platform, the guard looked between Vera and the boy.

”Are you ready?” he asked.

The boy rolled his neck slowly, first to the left, then to the right, a faint cracking sound coming from his joints.

A grin slowly formed on his face.

Vera stood straight, her posture relaxed, her arms resting naturally at her sides. She didn’t take a fight stance, didn’t raise her guard, didn’t show any sign of preparing.

She simply looked at him.

Expressionless.

”Fight!”

The guard waved his hand and stepped off the platform, giving them space.

No one moved when the signal was given.

The arena held still for a moment, as if both sides were waiting to see who would break first.

The boy tilted his head slowly to the left, then to the right, stretching his neck in a loose, careless manner. Then...

He burst into laughter.

At first, it was low. A small chuckle that barely carried any weight, but it didn’t stop.

It grew louder and sharper.

Until it echoed across the platform, drawing attention from every side.

”Ah... he’s actually going to do it,” one of the orphans said, watching with clear amusement, his arms folded as if he had been expecting this.

”Poor girl,” another girl muttered, shaking her head lightly, though her eyes stayed fixed on Vera with contempt.

The boy’s laughter rose further, turning rough, almost unstable, as if he had lost control of it.

Vera watched him.

Her expression didn’t change, even slightly.

”Mind telling me why you’re laughing like an idiot?” she asked flatly.

The boy stopped.

The laughter cut off almost instantly.

”...Huh.”

He blinked once, then let out a breath.

”Oh, sorry,” he said casually, rolling his shoulders. ”I just found it funny.”

His gaze dropped to her.

Slow and deliberate.

Moving from her face down to her body, then back up again, not hiding the way he looked at her.

”That my opponent is just some fragile princess.”

His lips stretched into a wider ugly grin.

”But I guess that makes things more interesting.”

His thoughts were obvious.

He wasn’t even trying to hide them.

If I beat her badly... tear her clothes right here in front of everyone...

The grin on his face twisted further to a perverted look.

What kind of face will be this ice princess reaction? ... Ahhhhh...I can’t wait... I want to mess her up so bad.

His breathing grew slightly uneven, excitement creeping into his expression.

I want to see it. I want to break her.

His gaze shifted toward the children of Ashenlocke.

Scanning and judging.

Looking down on them.

All these pampered kids...Their girls... all of them look good.

His fingers twitched slightly.

I came from nothing and I fought to stand here with all I had. Now, once I beat her, this golden jackpot of beauty... once I get adopted...

His grin widened again uncontrollably.

Then, I would have all these ladies to my heart content. Ahhhhh....

He lifted his hand and covered part of his face, tilting his head back slightly, only his eyes visible through the gap between his fingers.

They said we went through the same thing?

He almost laughed again.

Lies.

They told us not to kill them., because they were scared we would kill every one of them.

Vera looked at him, not reacting nor interrupting him. Her eyes stayed calm, almost distant.

Everything he thought... Everything he imagined... Was laid bare in front of her.

Clear and simple, very predictable.

She had already read through his face like an open book she didn’t care to finish.

She folded her arms slowly across her chest, her posture relaxed as she stood there without moving.

”Why haven’t you made your move?” the boy asked, lowering his hand and looking at her again.

”I even gave you ti....”

”Stop talking.” Vera cut him off without hesitation.

Her gaze didn’t shift, her tone didn’t rise, but it landed clean.

”Fight. Or leave.” A short pause. ”You’re wasting everyone’s time.”

The boy’s eyes widened slightly.

For a moment... He didn’t respond.

”...Ah.” His lips pulled into a darker smile. ”Yes... yes.”

His eyes changed; the ugly grin disappeared with something sharper replacing it.

In the next instant...

He moved.

His figure blurred forward, closing the distance in a single step.

He appeared right in front of Vera.

”I’ll stop wasting time now.”

His arms stretched forward...Reaching to grab her.