The ruins of the former City of Alchemy were now mostly cleared away.
Dwarves worked far faster above ground than other races. A sinkhole that colossal had already been filled in, the faint outlines of a city were already visible, and more than half of the city walls were complete.
Looking down from the sky, one could still discern the traces of numerous magic circles within the city's layout. Vast quantities of gold had been melted and poured throughout the streets and structures. The dwarves were truly wealthy, bold enough to build a city out of gold.
It was easy to imagine that once fully rebuilt, this city would be both magnificent and impregnable.
Gustavo Fring's new home was located inside this very city.
When the City of Alchemy was destroyed, Gustavo Fring had fled to the Silvermoon High Court, hoping to settle down and rebuild his life there.
Though elves were xenophobic, he was a legendary alchemist, a prominent figure renowned across the continent; finding a place among them should not have been difficult.
Yet reality dealt Gustavo Fring a stinging slap across the face.
The elves threw him out... perhaps that sounded a bit harsh; rather, they very politely escorted him away, after which the Silvermoon High Court completely shut its borders, leaving only the essential trade channels for magical ingredients open.
Gustavo Fring had been dumbfounded. This had not been part of his calculations at all. He had just spent the last of his savings purchasing a house in the Silvermoon High Court. Forced to leave, he had been reduced to a complete pauper.
"It's all that damned lich!"
Gustavo Fring's hatred for Anbaixiu ran so deep it could not be dissolved.
The disappearance of the City of Alchemy was connected to Anbaixiu. The Elven Queen of the Silvermoon High Court had chosen to seal her borders and expel all outsiders after speaking with Anbaixiu. Anbaixiu had ruined his life plans twice in a row!
Yet no matter how much he hated him, life had to go on.
After the war ended, Gustavo Fring returned to the City of Alchemy... or rather, what the dwarf king had now named the New Golden Capital.
Gustavo Fring needed to rebuild his laboratory and resume his former lifestyle.
Money was not an issue. Although he could not scrape together more than a hundred gold coins himself, his name carried immense weight. Merely signing a few contracts had secured him several million gold coins in backing.
In the past, Gustavo Fring wouldn't have spared a second glance at such a trivial sum, but the fall of the City of Alchemy had wiped out the vast majority of tycoons. For the surviving lesser families to pool this much together was already quite an achievement.
While not enough to fully rebuild his laboratory, it was at least sufficient to keep him from worrying about his daily bread for the time being.
Gustavo Fring had not been sitting idle either. During this time, he had been bustling about on all fronts, finally using his renown to work his connections with the dwarves and secure an audience with the dwarf king.
After negotiating with the dwarf king for an entire day, Gustavo Fring finally received royal approval to reestablish the Alchemists' Council.
Of course, this council could forget about holding any political power; it was merely a semi-official organization, functioning more like a trade guild.
Still, that was good enough. Gustavo Fring only wanted to use this platform to reestablish the alchemical establishment.
Any intelligent person knew the continent could not function without alchemy. By laying the groundwork now, once public opinion turned around, he would be able to rake in staggering profits and return to the pinnacle of the industry.
In any field, those at the very top always made the most.
Fame, status, and wealth—all of it would return to Gustavo Fring's grasp.
To restore the Alchemists' Council's influence as quickly as possible, Gustavo Fring broke with former traditions. He invited not only alchemists, but also a large contingent of high-ranking Dwarf Kingdom officials and numerous local nobles.
In the past, the Alchemists' Council never gave such dignitaries the time of day; anyone who had never published an article in Legendary Spells lacked the qualification even to listen from outside the doors.
Now, the alchemists had no choice but to swallow their pride and mingle with these figures of authority.
Sigh, when did alchemists sink to such a state?
Gustavo Fring was filled with endless lamentation. The guildmaster might have been half-mad, but back when he was in charge, how glorious the alchemists had been!
However, his resolve quickly hardened. Gustavo Fring believed that one day he would reach the guildmaster's heights and turn this Golden Capital back into the City of Alchemy.
The first step was ensuring the success of the inaugural ceremony.
The roster for the Alchemists' Council had already been drafted. Counting Gustavo Fring himself, there were only two legendary alchemists. The other legend was the Dwarf Kingdom's court alchemist—who happened to be a former council member previously exiled from the City of Alchemy.
Back when the guildmaster launched that mad scheme of godhood creation, dissent within the council had been fierce. This man had departed the council over irreconcilable differences. Who could have foreseen that he would end up serving as court alchemist to the dwarves for decades?
Now, he posed the biggest problem, because he intended to compete with Gustavo Fring for the seat of council president.
The election at the founding ceremony would be the decisive factor. Gustavo Fring had to repeatedly verify the intentions of the voters to guarantee his victory.
He had already spoken with most of the dignitaries, winning over whoever could be won over. What remained were the other names on the guest list.
This was an advantage he had fought to secure: every guest attending the founding ceremony held voting rights. If not for that, his rival would have won long ago, as Gustavo Fring's dwarf connections were far inferior to the man's.
Consequently, the lesser nobles and obscure alchemists became Gustavo Fring's prime targets.
The lesser nobles were easy enough. Most were locals, naturally aligned with him, and in need of a spokesperson to represent the interests of the original City of Alchemy's populace.
The real challenge lay with the invited alchemists.
As everyone knew, alchemists held a quasi-religious reverence for supreme truth and mastery. If Gustavo Fring's opponent were not a legend, he would have won effortlessly without lobbying. The trouble was that both possessed comparable skill and distinct alchemical achievements, meaning these alchemists were prone to wavering.
He had to secure every single one of them, or defeat was certain.
Examining the list before him, Gustavo Fring paused his quill on the name Isabel.
A girl without a surname—clearly of common birth—who had skyrocketed to fame by brewing a new kind of Potion of Youth. A beautiful maiden and a rising star in alchemy; this dual identity made her an idol among many young alchemists. Her vote was exceptionally valuable.
"The invitation sent earlier doesn't seem to have received a reply. I should pay her a personal visit before the ceremony officially begins. Damn it, but my schedule over the next few days is packed."
Gustavo Fring's lobbying schedule was stretched so tight he could barely spare a moment.
Just as he was about to dispatch a subordinate to call on her, a servant announced a visitor.
Hearing the guest's name, Gustavo Fring could not help frowning.
Dole Beck—the Dwarf Kingdom's court alchemist, and his former friend.
A moment later, an emaciated man with white hair appeared before Gustavo Fring.
As soon as he entered, Dole Beck got straight to the point: "Fring, still agonizing over vote canvassing, aren't you?"
"Beck, you know full well I won't surrender the presidency. Did you come here today just to spout this nonsense?"
Gustavo Fring dispensed with pleasantries entirely, disgust painted plainly across his face.
Dole Beck didn't take offense, merely remarking calmly, "Fring, give it up. I'm warning you as a friend: His Majesty will never allow an Alchemists' Council beyond his control to exist. The position of president must be mine. Continuing to resist won't end well for you."
"Hmph. The dwarf king already agreed to abide by the election results. Why bother with alarmist threats? And how do you know I won't swear fealty to the dwarf king once I become president? As far as I know, your relationship with His Majesty isn't particularly grand—back when he was gravely ill, your potions were utterly useless to him.
"Now that the dwarf king has recovered, hasn't he started doubting your abilities? Or perhaps he's considering replacing his court alchemist?"
Gustavo Fring assumed his rival had come solely to disrupt his momentum. Beck was probably resorting to threats precisely because he anticipated losing, which seemed like encouraging news.
Dole Beck shook his head. "You will never submit to anyone. You don't need me to remind you of that; you know it in your heart. As for my relationship with His Majesty, there's no need to speculate. I came only out of our past friendship to warn you. If you insist on fighting, you won't just lose—you'll meet a bitter end. Take my advice. Concede, and I can make you vice president."
"Save your breath. Who wins and who loses will become clear enough when the time comes."
Gustavo Fring refused to yield an inch. He had already made up his mind to claw his way back to his former peak, step by step.
Dole Beck glanced at his rival, his gaze sweeping over the desk until it landed squarely on the circled name. "Isabel? I've heard of her. A decent young talent. You intend to court her vote?"
"None of your business," Gustavo Fring replied coldly.
"Heh, of course it's none of my business. I have no grudge against that lich. But what about you? Don't tell me you still don't know that girl is a student trained by that very lich?"
Chapter 238