President of the Alchemists' Council

"What? The girl was snatched away?!" When the news reached them, Dippel and Gustavo Fring—the only two surviving council members present—nearly lost their minds. They had anticipated that the ascension ritual would run into obstacles, but this was beyond ridiculous. Not only had the lich slipped through their fingers, but the crucial girl had been stolen as well. To make matters worse, swarms of undead were rampaging through the streets, practically submerging the entire City of Alchemy. Dippel was furious, on the verge of cursing Gustavo Fring for his incompetence, as this had all been his responsibility. Yet Dippel also knew that bickering would solve nothing right now. Forcing down his rage, he said to Gustavo Fring, "We have to deal with these undead first. We must get that girl back. If they kill her, the plan is finished." Gustavo Fring frowned deeply. "How did he know that girl was tied to the ritual?" Even now, Gustavo Fring could not fathom how Anbaixiu seemed to know everything. It was as though the lich had studied every detail of their ritual in advance, striking precisely at their most critical vulnerabilities at every turn. A leak should have been impossible. Only a handful of individuals knew the full picture, and the only ones privy to every detail were the three remaining members of the Alchemists' Council. One was Dippel, one was himself, and the last... Gustavo Fring turned toward the magic circle, just in time to see Gold Coin stretching languidly as he woke up inside it. *He woke up this fast? The potion should have lasted much longer.* Gold Coin yawned, leisurely dug at his ear, exhaled the lingering drowsiness of sleep, and finally glanced around. Realizing he had already been placed in the sacrificial position, Gold Coin showed no panic at all. Instead, looking across the boundary of the magic circle, he asked Gustavo Fring, "Fring, Dippel, what's with you two? You look terrible. Did something go wrong with the plan again?" The remark was like a dagger twisted into their sides. Could this plan even proceed? If it truly was falling apart, the two of them ought to prepare their escape routes. Dippel asked in a dark tone, "Gold Coin, did you lure those undead into the city?" Gold Coin looked astonished. "What does that have to do with me? Do I even know those undead?" "Then explain why the Undead Queen of the Underdark showed up in the City of Alchemy, hid inside the city, and waited until our plan began to launch an attack! That Undead Queen bears no grudge against us, our ritual causes her no harm, and opposing us brings her zero benefit! "Tell me—if she didn't strike a deal with someone, why would she do this? Why leave the Underdark and come to the surface world in person? The only explanation is that you don't want to sacrifice yourself, so you deliberately brought her here to sabotage the ritual!" Dippel's barrage of accusations made Gold Coin burst out laughing. "Hahaha! So even high-and-mighty legends throw tantrums like toddlers. I'm not going to waste my breath arguing over such a ridiculous accusation—that would just lower me to your level. "Dippel, if you're so suspicious, activate the ritual right now and sacrifice me. See if I despair, see if I struggle. Wouldn't that settle everything once and for all?" Gold Coin spoke as casually as if discussing someone else's life and death, which actually shook Dippel's conviction. It really seemed it wasn't him. Gustavo Fring spoke up as well. "When we discussed the sacrifice back then, Gold Coin offered himself willingly. It doesn't seem like he's having second thoughts. Perhaps there was a blind spot somewhere else that allowed that lich to deduce our plan. Those undead must have been preparing for a long time to strike at such a critical moment, keeping us a step behind at every turn. Now isn't the time to argue over leaks. The key is how we seize back the initiative." Dippel's brow furrowed tightly. "Killing someone is easy, but rescuing someone is far harder." Mortal flesh was frail; an errant spell could obliterate it. And if that druid girl could not be sacrificed at the right place and the right time, everything would be utterly meaningless. Therefore, they had to rescue her alive, and that was the greatest problem. Who could be confident of rescuing a living captive from under the nose of an Undead Queen? While the two were at their wits' end, Gold Coin spoke up again. "We've already reached the final hour, so why are you still trying to solve this on your own? The greatest pillar of the City of Alchemy was never us. Second Seat, Sixth Seat, One Hundred and Eightieth Seat—at the end of the day, we're nothing more than apprentices running errands for the President." Gold Coin's words caused both of them to look up at the President suspended in midair. He still maintained his posture of martyrdom and his fanatical expression, yet his consciousness seemed long detached from his physical vessel. Dippel said, "The President has completely merged with the ritual magic circle. He can't leave right now." Gold Coin shook his head. "You underestimate him. He knows full well about the mess we're in; he just didn't want to step in because we never asked. Am I right, President?" The moment Gold Coin finished speaking, a cluster of translucent energy drifted out from the President's bare body, like a soul leaving its shell. Yet this spirit looked vastly different from his hunched, physical form. In spirit form, the President was a tall, dignified elder, surrounded by a faint radiance that gave him an aura of supreme sanctity. This was the true President of the Alchemists' Council, the genuine legendary alchemist—Gary Watts. "President!" Dippel and Gustavo Fring cried out in unison, but the old man's spirit merely gave a regretful wave of his hand. Gary Watts showed no emotional fluctuation toward these companions he had known for decades. He simply said flatly, "I know everything. Let me handle it." Leaving them to their thoughts, Gary Watts turned into a phantom, drifted straight through the thick ceiling, and flew toward the surface. *** Compared to the chaos and anxiety in the sewers, Anbaixiu was having a rather leisurely time. All he had to do was follow the Rose of Decay; he didn't need to lift a finger. What defined a legend was that only another legend could stand against them. Walking alongside her, Anbaixiu truly experienced what it felt like to be invincible. Unlike an imposter like him, the Rose of Decay was a true master of necromancy. Throughout the march, she hadn't lost a single Death Knight; instead, she had gained a shambling horde of zombies and hundreds of captured golem puppets. The most terrifying aspect of an undead siege was that their numbers only grew as they fought. Once the snowball started rolling, nothing could stop it. The City of Alchemy's greatest mistake had been failing to keep the Rose of Decay outside the walls, rendering most of their vast, intricate defense systems completely useless. With the undead already inside, the city's fall was only a matter of time. However, Anbaixiu hadn't come to conquer the city; he was here to seize the ultimate fruits of the Wish ritual. Thus, he didn't waste time playing urban warfare against administrators and golem puppets. Instead, he occupied one of the City of Alchemy's seven grand towers, had the Rose of Decay set up defenses, and retreated inside with the druid girl. These towers had been created by the God of Alchemy as divine relics to nail those madmen to the pillar of shame. Virtually indestructible, anyone wanting to snatch the girl back would have to fight their way up floor by floor. The tower had long been abandoned. Anbaixiu brought Naomi all the way to the top floor without meeting any resistance. The moment he set her down, Naomi stirred from her slumber. Anbaixiu muttered awkwardly, "Tsk, my magic's weaker now; I miscalculated the duration." A spell's potency depended on the caster's magical power. After his rebirth, his strength had dropped significantly, making even his Sleep spell far less effective. Upon waking, Naomi shrank into a corner in sheer panic. She quickly shifted into the form of a black panther, baring her fangs and snarling at Anbaixiu. "Don't growl at me; I'm your savior," Anbaixiu said. Naomi said furiously, "You! You killed my clan!" "Correction: a clan that wanted to sacrifice you. Whatever, since you're awake, let your clansman explain it to you himself." Anbaixiu snapped his fingers. The zombified Van Jones walked expressionlessly in front of Naomi. Naomi backed away warily, only to find her back against the wall with nowhere left to retreat. She cried out with a choke in her voice, "Uncle Jones, wake up!" Van Jones stood motionless, then said in a cold, detached voice, "Naomi Watts, you must die!" Naomi looked at him in disbelief. "What did you say?!" But quickly, she turned to glare at Anbaixiu and snapped, "You're controlling Uncle Jones! I won't believe a word!" Anbaixiu replied indifferently, "Believe it or not, it makes no difference to me. Just listen to it like a story and stop causing trouble right now." With that, Anbaixiu rummaged through the room, found a stack of parchment, and began sketching on it. Naomi had no idea what Anbaixiu was doing, but the zombified Van Jones could only obey his master's commands. "Naomi Watts, you must die. You are the blood relative of Gary Watts, President of the Alchemists' Council. Your sacrifice is tied to a secret ritual of the City of Alchemy. If the ritual succeeds, the City of Alchemy will be completely obliterated, and this land will become territory for us Shadow Druids." "Shadow Druids?! No, that's impossible!" The Shadow Druids were an extreme circle, completely different from other druidic circles that advocated harmony between civilization and nature. They believed the mere existence of mortals brought ruin to the natural world. *Balance is an illusion; where mortals tread, nature suffers.* *Unity is a lie; mortals seek only to tame beasts and burn the wilds.* *We are the thunder, we are the storm, here to purge ignorant, reckless mortals and clear a pure world for new life!* That was the oath of the Shadow Druids: eradicate mortals and return the world to nature, after which the Shadow Druids would return to nature's embrace in the final hour. While sketching his draft, Anbaixiu took a moment to sneer. "The same old racial prejudice. Religious lunatics, academic lunatics, and now eco-lunatics... even more twisted than us undead." "No, that's not true! I'm an abandoned child you took in! If I'm the child of some council president, why would I have been abandoned?!" Naomi's voice was filled with despair. She could not accept this reality. Did this mean all the care and affection she had received growing up had been a lie? Her adoptive parents, her brothers and sisters, all those memories shared with her clan—all fake? Had they raised her just to slaughter her? Naomi trembled from head to toe, wanting nothing more than to pounce on Van Jones and tear his throat out to stop him from speaking another word. Yet before she could attack, an aged voice echoed by her ear. "Child, what he says is true. For back then, it was I who ordered you abandoned." As the voice fell, a translucent figure passed straight through the indestructible outer wall of the tower, stepping into the room. Gary Watts, President of the Alchemists' Council, had arrived.