Lich for Hire

Chapter 238: Flynn's Struggle

The ruins and rubble that remained where Alkhemia had once been were now mostly cleared away.

Dwarves worked far faster than any other race when it came to construction. The enormous crater that once scarred the land had already been filled in, and the faint outline of a new city was beginning to take shape. Even the city walls were more than halfway complete.

From the sky, one could still make out traces of magical arrays embedded in the city's layout. Large quantities of gold had been melted down and poured into its construction. The dwarves were truly wealthy, wealthy enough to build a city out of gold.

Once completed, this city would clearly be both magnificent and impregnable.

Gustavo Flynn's new home was within this very city.

When Alkhemia was first destroyed, Gustavo Flynn had fled to the Court of the Silver Moon, intending to settle down there and rebuild his life.

Elves were known for their isolationism, but Flynn was a legendary alchemist, one of the most renowned figures on the continent. Settling there should have posed no problem.

Reality, however, dealt him a resounding slap in the face.

The elves had driven him out… though that might be too harsh a way to put it. They "politely" escorted him away, and soon after, the Court of the Silver Moon completely sealed itself off from the outside world, leaving only essential channels for the trade of magical materials open.

Flynn was stunned. This outcome had never crossed his mind, especially since he had just spent his last savings buying a house there. Forced to leave, he was reduced to utter poverty."All because of that damned lich!"

Flynn's hatred of Ambrose had become so intense it was almost tangible.

The destruction of Alkhemia was tied to Ambrose. After speaking with Ambrose, the elven queen had established a policy of isolationism and expelled all outsiders. Ambrose had ruined Flynn's life plans twice over.

But no matter how much he hated him, life had to go on.

After the war ended, Flynn returned to Alkhemia, though the Dwarven King had since renamed it the new Golden Capital.

Flynn needed to rebuild his laboratory and restore his former way of life.

Gold wasn't the issue. While he couldn't produce more than a hundred gold on the spot, his name alone carried immense value. With just a few signed contracts, Flynn secured millions of gold in funding.

In the past, Flynn wouldn't have bothered glancing at such a paltry sum. But with the destruction of Alkhemia, most of its wealthy elites had vanished. It was already no small feat for the remaining minor houses to scrape together such a sum.

It still wasn't enough to rebuild his laboratory, but at least he no longer had to worry about starving.

Flynn hadn't been idle. Over this period, he had worked tirelessly, leveraging his reputation to establish connections with the dwarves. Eventually, he secured an audience with the Dwarven King.

They spoke for an entire day before Flynn finally obtained approval to refound the Alchemists' Council.

Of course, this council would hold no political power. At best, it would be a semi-official organization, essentially an industry association.

But that was enough. Flynn only wanted to use it as a foundation to rebuild the alchemical infrastructure in Alkhemia.

Anyone with sense knew the continent could not function without alchemy. If he prepared now, once public sentiment recovered, he could make a fortune and reclaim his position at the top of the field.

After all, in any industry, those at the top earned the most.

Fame, status, and wealth—everything would return to Gustavo Flynn.

To quickly restore the council's influence, Flynn even broke old traditions. Invitations were extended not only to alchemists, but also to high-ranking officials of the Dwarven Kingdom and numerous local nobles.

In the past, the Alchemists' Council had looked down on such elites. Anyone who hadn't been published in Legendary Spellcraft wouldn't even qualify to listen in from outside the doors.

But now, alchemists had no choice but to lower themselves to socialize and network with the powerful.

"When did alchemists fall this far?"

Flynn sighed inwardly. The former chairman might have been mad, but during his time, alchemists had stood at the peak of glory.

Still, Flynn quickly steeled his resolve. One day, he would rise to that same height and turn the new capital of the Dwarven Kingdom back into Alkhemia.

The first step was to ensure the success of this founding ceremony.

The council roster had already been drafted. Including Flynn himself, there were only two legendary alchemists. The other was the Dwarven Kingdom's royal court alchemist.

This man had once been a council member as well—before being expelled from Alkhemia.

Back when the chairman proposed his insane plan of apotheosis, opposition within the council had been strong. This man had left due to ideological differences and had eventually served the dwarves for decades as their court alchemist.

Now, he was Flynn's biggest obstacle. He intended to compete for the position of chairman, too.

The election vote at the founding ceremony would be decisive. Flynn needed to confirm the stance of every voter to ensure his victory.

Most of the influential elites had already been approached. He had secured all the support he could from them. What remained were the others on the guest list.

This was Flynn's advantage: every attendee at the ceremony would have voting rights. Without this rule, his opponent would have already won. After all, Flynn had far fewer connections within the Dwarven Kingdom than his opponent.

Thus, his focus had shifted to lesser nobles and obscure alchemists.

The minor nobles were easy. They were mostly locals and naturally inclined to support him. They needed a representative to speak for the former citizens of Alkhemia.

The real problem lay with the invited alchemists.

Everyone knew alchemists tended to revere truth above all else. If his opponent weren't a legend, Flynn wouldn't need to canvass votes at all. But since both were evenly matched in skill and achievement, these alchemists could easily waver between both candidates.

He had to win over every single one—or he would lose.

Staring at the list in his hand, Flynn's pen paused over one name: Isabel.

A young woman without a surname, she was clearly not of noble birth. She had risen to fame for creating a new Potion of Youth. Due to her beauty and genius, she was rapidly becoming an idol among the younger generation. Her vote was crucial.

"It seems she hasn't responded yet. I should pay her a visit before the ceremony. Damn it… but I really can't spare the time these days."

His schedule was packed to the brim with canvassing efforts.

Just as he was about to send a subordinate in his place, a servant announced a visitor.

Upon hearing the name, Flynn frowned.

Dol Beck was the Dwarven Kingdom's court alchemist and his former friend.

Moments later, the gaunt, gray-haired man appeared before him.

The moment he entered, Beck spoke bluntly, "Flynn, you're still troubled over canvassing votes, aren't you?"

"Beck, you should know very well that I won't give up the chairman's position. Did you come here just to spout nonsense?"

Flynn didn't bother with courtesy. Disgust was plain on his face.

Beck, however, remained calm. "Flynn, give it up. I still consider you a friend, so I'm giving you this warning: the king will not allow the Alchemists' Council to be granted free rein. The chairman's position must be mine. If you keep resisting, it won't end well for you."

"Hmph. The Dwarven King already agreed to the election. Why spread such alarmist nonsense? And how do you know I wouldn't pledge loyalty to him after becoming Chairman? From what I've heard, your relationship with the king isn't exactly stellar, especially after your potions failed when he was gravely ill.

"Now that he's recovered, has he begun to doubt your abilities? Or is he perhaps considering replacing his court alchemist?"

Flynn dismissed the warning as a desperate ploy. If anything, it suggested his opponent feared losing.

Beck shook his head. "You won't be loyal to anyone. You know that yourself. As for my relationship with His Majesty, there's no need for your speculation. I came to warn you only because of our former friendship. If you continue, you won't just lose. You'll meet a bad end. Take my advice. Concede. I can make you vice chairman."

"I won't listen to this nonsense. We'll see who wins soon enough."

Flynn stood firm. He had already resolved to climb back to the peak, step by step.

Beck glanced at him, then his eyes drifted to a circled name on the desk. "Isabel? I've heard of her. A promising young talent. You're planning to secure her vote?"

"That's none of your concern," Flynn replied coldly.

Beck chuckled softly. "Of course, it's none of my concern. I bear no grudge against that lich. But you…" He paused, then added meaningfully, "…surely you know by now that this young woman is an apprentice to that lich?"