Chapter 585: Chapter 585: The Grand Alchemical Conclave

Selara answered him while wringing green slime from the end of one sleeve.

"It is strange that you do not know about it. The Grand Alchemical Conclave is held once every five years." She glanced at him, then at the broom in his hand. "Well, it makes sense if your class has no relation to alchemy events or the kinds of demonstrations carried out there."

Trafalgar raised a hand before she could wander too far.

"Don’t beat around the bush. Get to the point, please."

Selara blinked, then smiled as if she had just remembered he was not one of her students trapped in a three-hour lecture.

"Right, sorry." She tossed the ruined towel onto the back of a chair and began counting with her fingers. "It is an event where many renowned alchemists gather. As for what is celebrated there, quite a variety of things. Presentations of new alchemical formulas. Auctions of rare materials. Demonstrations of weapons and alchemical ammunition. Special ammunition, poisons, fuels, explosives, catalysts for combatants, arrows, bullets, things like that."

Trafalgar kept sweeping broken glass into a pile while listening.

Selara kept going, clearly enjoying herself now that she had an audience.

"Medical treatments, recovery tonics, antidotes. Exhibitions of beasts, blood, cores, monster materials. Contracts between academies, families, merchants, and laboratories. Tournaments or controlled tests to demonstrate products in combat." She lifted both hands. "It is chaotic, expensive, dangerous, and full of people who think having a laboratory makes them geniuses. Naturally, I adore it."

"Naturally," Trafalgar said.

Selara ignored the tone.

"I also have the group that will go. It is not a large group. Four third-year students who are alchemists, two other third-years, and a second-year girl who uses ammunition and wants to test rarer types. There are two second-year beast summoners interested in contracts, and two more students whose classes are related to healing, so they want to observe medical treatments, tonics, and antidotes."

Trafalgar stopped the broom for a moment.

"You are not taking Aubrelle because of the beast contracts?"

"I offered," Selara said, lifting a finger. "But she told me she has no interest in making contracts with random beasts. So I gave her place to a girl called Cynthia, a second-year girl. She ranked quite well. She surprised me, actually. With better arrows, she could have placed higher. She uses a bow."

"Oh."

Selara leaned forward a little, slime still dripping from one strand of platinum hair.

"You know her?"

"Yes. She is a friend."

"A friend?" Selara’s eyes gleamed behind her crooked goggles. "Only a friend?"

Trafalgar immediately changed the subject.

"When is this?"

Selara watched him for a moment, clearly amused, but she did not push further.

"We leave in two months. The Conclave begins a little after that. It will last around two weeks, and we will stay there for that time." She picked up a cracked vial from the table, checked it, then threw it into a bin with no visible concern. "We could have gone alone, but the other three would not allow it. So I had to create a proper academic reason and bring some promising students."

Trafalgar’s brow rose slightly.

"And me?"

"You are the exception because you ranked first," Selara said cheerfully. "In truth, you do not fit there much at all."

Trafalgar stared at her.

"It is good to know my efforts have borne fruit in some way."

"Exactly. Congratulations."

He let out a quiet breath through his nose and resumed sweeping. "Fine. What is the name of the city?"

"Aurevane."

The name did not mean anything to him, but the way Selara said it carried weight.

"And we do not get there by Gate," she continued. "The city has heavy protections and strict access control. It is also small. It does not exceed thirty thousand inhabitants."

’Similar to Euclid, more or less,’ Trafalgar thought.

Selara reached for another towel and finally began cleaning her goggles.

"So we go by train. But not a train like the academy line to Velkaris. Not even close."

Trafalgar turned more toward her.

"How different?"

"Aurevane is neutral territory, but tightly controlled. During the Conclave, private Gates and alternate routes are closed for security. Too many famous alchemists, dangerous materials, nobles, merchants, laboratories, and auction houses gather there at once. The only authorized access for official delegations is a high-speed train regulated by the Council."

"How fast?"

"Five hundred kilometers per hour." (310mph)

Trafalgar stopped moving.

Selara placed her goggles back properly and continued as if she had not just named an absurd number.

"The journey takes between sixteen and twenty-four hours, depending on the wind conditions. We pass through a snowy region along the way, so take something comfortable in case the trip is delayed."

Trafalgar stared at her.

That distance was ridiculous.

Then again, this world was enormous. Sometimes he forgot that because Gates made large distances feel almost meaningless. When one could step from city to city through controlled portals, geography stopped feeling honest. A train that fast taking almost a day to reach its destination reminded him that the world was far larger than his daily routes suggested.

Still, part of him wanted to see it.

A train moving at that speed, built to cross neutral territory under Council regulation, carrying alchemists, nobles, materials, and enough money to tempt half the criminals in the world.

That sounded like trouble.

It also sounded interesting.

Selara’s tone shifted, losing some of its playfulness.

"Now, Trafalgar. Once we arrive, I will keep the students occupied. They will have supervised schedules, demonstrations, and enough freedom to explore the event safely. But there is a meeting you will accompany me to."

Trafalgar leaned the broom lightly against the table.

"The one where your master might appear?"

"Possibly." Selara’s expression tightened a little, and for once the usual madness around her did not cover it. "Alchemists, engineers, and creators of magical technology gather once every year during the Conclave to present their most valuable work. I will be presenting something as well, though that is not what matters."

"What matters is him."

"Yes," Selara said. "If he is there, he may attend that meeting. If he does not, we will need to search the city. Carefully. Aurevane has too much security for careless movement, and during the Conclave, everyone notices everyone."

Trafalgar nodded.

"Understood, Director. If that is everything, I will leave. I would like to prepare, even if we still have two months before departure. Better to be ready beforehand."

Selara waved one hand.

"Fine, fine. I will prepare as well. But do not let this distract you from classes."

"Of course."

Trafalgar gave a small wave and turned toward the door.

Selara did not notice immediately.

That was because, technically, he had been sweeping the same spot for almost the entire conversation and had cleaned nothing besides that spot.

When she finally looked down and realized the broken glass remained nearly where it had started, her head snapped toward the door.

"Trafalgar."

No answer.

She opened the door.

The hallway was empty.

Far away from Selara’s laboratory, Trafalgar was already walking with the [Shadowlink Echo] in his hand.

Two months was plenty of time.

Which meant it was also plenty of time to prepare badly if he waited too long.