Last Gun Alchemist

The guard stepped onto the stage the moment the girl’s body stopped moving.

There was no hesitation in his steps, no change in his expression, as if what had just happened was nothing more than routine.

”Winner.”

His voice echoed across the arena, cold and direct, as he pointed toward Page.

Page stood there for a brief moment, her chest rising and falling as she steadied her breathing, then a satisfied smile slowly spread across her face.

Without a word, she lifted her hand and untied the rope holding her mixed black and pink hair. The strands fell freely, swaying slightly in the air before settling against her back as she turned and walked down from the stage.

That smile never left her face.

Almost immediately, cheers erupted from Felix’s group.

”Nice one, Page!”

Gareth stood up, clapping slowly, his calm gaze resting on her without any exaggeration, yet his approval was clear.

Around them, voices overlapped, some loud, some sharp, all focused on her victory, but not everyone looked at her.

Some eyes... were elsewhere.

A few candidates stared quietly at the burnt body being carried away by the guards and maids. The smell of heat and ash still lingered faintly in the air, mixing with the cold breeze that passed through the arena.

Their faces showed pity, especially the orphans.

Yet...

None of them spoke, protested nor reacted beyond that silent look, it wasn’t due to indifference.

It was due to familiarity.

They had all seen too much already.

Death was no longer something that could shake them the way it once did. It had become something that simply... happened.

”That was unnecessary...”

Mariam spoke softly, her gaze still fixed on Page, who had now returned to her seat and was talking with Gareth and Freed, her tone slightly elevated as she recounted her victory.

If someone looked closely, though...

They would notice.

Her breathing was still uneven, her pink eyes had dulled slightly, and a faint trace of exhaustion lingered in them.

She quietly took out a white handkerchief and wiped the thin line of blood that had slipped from her nose, hiding it almost naturally.

”I mean... it’s not like this trial requires killing,” Mariam added, folding her arms as she leaned back in her chair.

Linda clicked her tongue.

”It can’t be helped,” she replied, her tone carrying a hint of irritation. ”Especially when it’s someone from that jerk’s group.”

She waved her hand dismissively, as if ending the topic.

”But...”

A voice came from behind them.

Bobby.

He hesitated before speaking, his hands slightly clenched.

”She’s... really amazing.”

Silence.

Three heads turned toward him instantly.

”What?”

Linda raised a brow, Tracy leaned slightly forward while Mariam narrowed her eyes.

Bobby froze.

Cold sweat formed at the side of his face as he waved his hands quickly.

”No! That’s not what I meant...I mean, not like that! I didn’t mean she’s amazing for killing...!”

His words tumbled over each other as he tried to explain.

”I just meant...her strength! Her control over her alchemy! That’s what I meant!”

The three girls stared at him with plain expressions.

”So... our little healer now thirst for blood?” Tracy said with a grin, clearly enjoying herself.

”Noooo!” Bobby almost cried out, his voice cracking slightly. ”I could never...never think of killing!”

He looked like a cornered puppy.

Veda, who had been listening quietly, let out a soft laugh.

”You girls should stop teasing him,” he said, his tone relaxed.

Then his gaze shifted to Bobby.

”I understand what you meant.”

He pointed at him lightly.

”She is definitely impressive.”

He exhaled slowly.

”She’s the prodigy of Laverdale County... and the one most people in the family expect to become the next head of the Laverdale Alchemist line.”

His eyes flickered slightly.

”I actually wanted her in our group at first... but...”

He scratched the side of his head and gave a dry laugh.

Ezra, who had been quiet, turned slightly.

”So, the great leader couldn’t convince a girl to join his group?”

His tone was flat, but the hint of sarcasm was clear.

”Pff...”

Tracy almost burst out laughing, covering her mouth.

”Not every girl likes nice guys,” she added, barely holding herself together.

”At least he gets attention...” Nickolas muttered; his voice filled with jealousy. ”But what about me?” he pointed at himself.

Silence.

Complete silence., only the little noise of conversations and cleaning on the stage sounded around them.

No one responded.

”It’s clearly her loss.”

Mariam spoke without hesitation, her voice calm but firm as she looked at Veda. There was a faint admiration in her eyes that she didn’t even try to hide, and around her, the others seemed to silently agree, completely ignoring the question Nickolas had asked earlier.

”You can say that again,” Linda added, shifting slightly in her seat as she adjusted her posture, crossing one leg over the other while her gaze stayed fixed ahead.

”Wow...”

Ezra’s voice came out flat, almost emotionless, yet not empty.

He stared at Veda.

”You’re really popular.”

Veda’s lips twitched slightly at that.

He smiled, but it wasn’t a confident one this time. There was a hint of discomfort in it, like the way Ezra had said those words carried something more than just observation.

”Why would you say it like I’m some kind of playboy...”

He leaned forward, slightly past Nickolas, narrowing his eyes as he looked directly at Ezra, trying to read his expression.

”You’re definitely getting back at me because of how I teased you during the sixth trial, right?”

”Good guess.”

Ezra replied without delay.

A small smile formed on his lips, soft and almost harmless at first glance, yet his eyes told a completely different story.

They were dull and flat with a faint trace of smugness hidden beneath them.

”Damn...”

Veda leaned back into his seat, letting out a breath as he shook his head slightly, a low laugh escaping him.

Nickolas, however, wasn’t laughing.

He stared at all of them, his jaw tightening as his fingers curled slightly.

These bastards... they really ignored me...

The thought echoed loudly in his head.

For a moment, he almost felt like crying, but he forced himself to hold it in, swallowing whatever emotion tried to surface.

Around them, the stage had finally been cleared.

It took longer than usual this time due to the ground being badly damaged—cracks spreading wide, pieces of stone lifted and broken apart from the force of Page’s alchemy and the earlier clashes. Several guards moved around the arena, unrolling earth-type alchemy scrolls and activating them one after another.

The ground shifted.

Reformed.

The broken parts slowly closed, smoothing out as if nothing had happened.

By the time they were done, the stage looked almost untouched, as though the previous battle had never taken place.

The guard who had been refereeing the fights stepped back onto the platform.

His boots made a dull sound against the restored ground.

Without wasting time, the holographic number appeared again above the stage, glowing faintly as they hovered in place, signaling the continuation of the matches.

And just like that, the fights resumed.

One after another.

The rhythm was steady, predictable and dominant.

The children of Ashenlocke continued to overwhelm the orphans.

Some battles ended quickly, almost one-sided, while others dragged on longer, filled with struggle and resistance, yet even then, the result remained unchanged.

Victory.

Always on one side.

Time passed slowly with match after match until...

The sixtieth match ended.

The guard stepped forward again this time no numbers appeared.

The air grew slightly still, the faint noise from the crowd lowering on its own as attention returned to the stage.

”Today’s trial ends for now...”

The guard’s voice echoed across the arena, cold and steady, carrying no trace of emotion as he stood at the center of the stage.

”Tomorrow... we will continue.”

The moment he finished speaking, he didn’t wait for any reaction.

He turned immediately.

His boots struck the ground with quiet, firm steps as he walked off the stage, heading toward the exit where the chief guards were already leaving.

Freya walked ahead, her arms folded as she spoke to Kyle and another guard beside her. Their conversation flowed casually, their expressions relaxed, as though they were discussing nothing more than an ordinary day.

It was clear they were talking about the fights, the interesting ones and the ones worth remembering.

Behind them, Raymond walked in silence alongside the last chief guard, his expression unreadable, his gaze fixed forward as if none of it concerned him.

Soon...

They were gone.

The arena began to empty.

The two guards who had escorted the orphans earlier stepped forward again, guiding them out in an orderly line.

Among them, the ones who had lost carried their frustration openly. Some clenched their fists, others kept their heads lowered, their thoughts clearly unsettled, still stuck in the moment they had failed.

The few who had won didn’t celebrate.

They just walked quietly, faces blank, eyes calm as if victory itself meant nothing.

Behind them, the children of Ashenlocke also began to leave, but unlike the orphans...

They were loud.

Voices overlapped.

Some laughed, pointing at their teammates who had lost, teasing them openly, while others praised those who had won, clapping them on the back and retelling parts of the fights with excitement.

The contrast was clear, sharp and impossible to ignore.

Time passed quickly, before long...The next day arrived and with it...The same atmosphere and the same confidence from the Ashenlocke side.

Fight after fight...

Victory.

Again, and again and again.

Their dominance wasn’t subtle anymore.

It was obvious.

Not just in strength but in control, in understanding, in the way they approached every battle with structure and precision.

The gap between both sides wasn’t just about talent.

It was deeper than that, because it was something that started from the beginning of their birth.

Every child of the Ashenlocke family had undergone baptism as an infant.

A preparation for their bodies to adapt early, their minds to open early to the power of Cognis.

Their connection to Cognis was formed before they even understood what it meant.

By the time they awakened...

Their foundation was already solid, their physical attributes had already enhanced before awakening but after fully awakening – they underwent a boost in their physical stats.

Their control over Cognis was more refined and more stable, but the orphans were different.

They did have the experience that made them understand survival better than most, not to even talk of a noble child who lived his or her life in peace, but that lack of foundation, that fact that they never went through the baptism was enough from them to be way behind the children of Ashenlocke.

To awaken, they had to force Cognis out from their mind, through the Ese elixir.

A harsher method and a very dangerous one.

The concentration they were given was higher than what the Ashenlocke children had taken, because it had to forcefully stimulate their brains to produce Cognis.

Many died instantly, some lost their minds becoming nothing more than broken shells and those who survived...

Barely formed a complete first star.

Their Cognis unstable, low and their control was weak.

And now that gap showcased itself perfectly.

Though... There were a few, a very small number of orphans who had grown adapting through the trials and had begun to close that distance. These groups had yet to step forward.

The holographic number appeared again floating above the stage.

The next match.

Two figures stepped out, from the orphan side...

A girl.

Her expression, calm and mature.

This time... the orphans cheered.

It wasn’t loud at first, but it grew with voices rising, overlapping, as if something had changed among them, as if they had finally decided to stop watching silently and to stop accepting defeat quietly.

Nate stood up from his group about to walk out to the stage.

Priscilla reached out, holding the edge of his coat lightly between her fingers.

”Nate.”

”Yeah?” he turned.

Her eyes met his.

”Show those idiots the strength of our group.”

Her voice was low, but firm.

Her gaze flickered briefly toward Vera, Henry, Felix and Veda before returning to him.

Nate tilted his head slightly understanding what she meant then smiled.

”I’m obviously going to win... stylishly.”

His tone was confident and natural.

”Good luck, Nate!”

Niki and Mira called out; their voices bright as others from the group joined in.

Nate gave a faint smile, then turned.

His expression changed to a calm and cold look.

He walked toward the stage with each step steady while his thoughts moved quietly.

I didn’t expect this...

He kept his eyes forward.

I thought all these noble children would be the same.

Spoiled and soft.

People who would panic the moment things turned real, people who would fall apart under pressure.

He exhaled slowly.

I thought I would be easily above them... I mean... I’ve already lived through things like this.

He shook his head slightly.

But now...

Veda, Felix, Henry, even Bale... Priscilla... and that girl...

Vera.

His gaze hardened.

All of them, leaders who are able to lead the children through all this trial even better than I could....

They are monsters.

They shattered everything I thought I knew about nobility.

He stepped onto the stage, at the same time the girl from the orphan side also climbed up as well.

He glanced at her briefly.

Just once, then looked forward again.

The world of nobles...Is not as soft as I imagined...It’s worse.