SSS Talent: From Trash to Tyrant Chapter 585: The Grand Alchemical Conclave

As Selara wrung slimy green liquid from a sleeve, she addressed him.

"It strikes me as peculiar that you're unaware of it. The Grand Alchemical Conclave convenes every five years." A swift glance at him, followed by a look at the broom in his hand, led her to add, "Well, I suppose it's understandable if your field of study doesn't intersect with alchemical events or the sort of displays that occur there."

Trafalgar raised a hand, halting her before she could drift too far off topic.

"Spare me the preamble. Please, get to the point."

Selara blinked, then a smile touched her lips, as if she'd just recalled he wasn't one of her students ensnared in a three-hour lecture.

"Right, my apologies." She deposited the soaked towel onto the back of a chair and commenced enumerating on her fingers. "It's an gathering for numerous esteemed alchemists. As for its purpose, a wide array of activities takes place. New alchemical formulas are presented. Rare ingredients are auctioned. Weapons and alchemical projectiles are demonstrated. Specialized ammunition, potent poisons, volatile fuels, explosives, catalysts for combatants, even arrows and bullets – that sort of thing."

While Trafalgar continued sweeping the shattered glass into a mound, he listened.

Selara, clearly relishing her captive audience, pressed on.

"Furthermore, there are medical treatments, restorative tonics, and antidotes. Exhibitions featuring exotic beasts, their blood, their cores, and other monstrous materials. Contracts are forged between academies, noble families, influential merchants, and renowned laboratories. Controlled contests and trials are held to showcase product efficacy in actual combat." She held up both hands. "It's a whirlwind of chaos, exorbitant expense, potential danger, and a sea of individuals who fancy themselves geniuses simply because they own a laboratory. Naturally, I find it utterly delightful."

"Naturally," Trafalgar echoed dryly.

Selara paid his tone no mind.

"I also have the contingent that will be attending. It's not an extensive group. Four third-year students specializing in alchemy, two other third-years, and a second-year girl who utilizes specialized ammunition and seeks to experiment with rarer types. Then there are two second-year beast summoners keen on forging contracts, and two more students whose focus lies in healing arts, eager to observe the advancements in medical treatments, tonics, and antidotes."

Trafalgar paused his sweeping for a brief moment.

"You're not including Aubrelle due to concerns about beast contracts?"

"I extended an invitation," Selara stated, raising a finger. "However, she indicated a lack of interest in forming contracts with just any beast. Consequently, I allocated her slot to a promising second-year student named Cynthia. She performed quite admirably. Her potential was evident; with superior arrows, she could have secured a higher rank. She's proficient with a bow." "Oh."

Selara leaned forward slightly, a strand of platinum hair still slick with slime.

"You know her?"

"Indeed. She's a friend."

"A friend?" Selara's eyes sparkled behind her askew goggles. "Merely a friend?"

Trafalgar promptly steered the conversation back on course.

"When does this event commence?"

Selara regarded him with evident amusement for a moment but didn't press the matter.

"We depart in two months' time. The Conclave itself kicks off shortly thereafter. It's scheduled to span approximately two weeks, and we'll be in attendance for the entire duration." She retrieved a fractured vial from the table, inspected it briefly, and then discarded it into a bin with apparent indifference. "We could have attended independently, but the other three faculty members wouldn't permit it. Thus, I had to establish a legitimate academic justification and assemble a selection of promising students."

A slight furrow appeared on Trafalgar's brow.

"And my inclusion?"

"You're the sole exception, primarily due to achieving the top rank," Selara declared with bright cheerfulness. "Frankly, your presence doesn't align terribly well with the event's usual attendees."

Trafalgar met her gaze.

"It's gratifying to know my endeavors have yielded some positive outcome."

"Precisely. Congratulations."

He exhaled softly through his nose and returned to his sweeping. "Very well. What is the name of the city?"

"Aurevane."

The name held no immediate recognition for him, yet Selara's pronunciation imbued it with a certain significance.

"And direct passage via Gate is not an option," she elaborated. "The city maintains stringent security measures and tightly controlled access. It's also relatively compact, with a population not exceeding thirty thousand."

'Reminiscent of Euclid, more or less,' Trafalgar mused.

Selara reached for another towel, finally commencing the task of cleaning her goggles.

"Therefore, our mode of transport will be the train. However, this is no ordinary academy line train, unlike the one servicing Velkaris. Not by a long shot."

Trafalgar turned more fully towards her, curiosity piqued.

"How significant is the difference?"

"Aurevane is designated neutral territory, yet under rigorous control. During the Conclave, all private Gates and alternative routes are suspended for security reasons. The concentration of renowned alchemists, perilous materials, dignitaries, merchants, laboratories, and auction houses is simply too high. The sole authorized means of entry for official delegations is a high-speed train meticulously regulated by the Council."

"High-speed in what regard?"

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

Trafalgar ceased his sweeping altogether.

Selara readjusted her goggles, resuming her explanation as if the speed she'd just mentioned was perfectly ordinary.

"The trip spans sixteen to twenty-four hours, adjusted by wind speed. We'll traverse a snowy area, so pack something warm in case of travel delays."

Trafalgar simply gazed at her.

That duration was utterly astonishing.

Then again, this world was of immense scale. Sometimes, he overlooked this truth because Gates rendered vast distances almost insignificant. When passage between cities could be achieved through controlled portals, the very concept of geography lost its authenticity. A train operating at such velocity, requiring nearly a full day to reach its destination, served as a stark reminder that the world extended far beyond his routine paths.

Yet, a part of him yearned to witness it.

A train moving at that incredible speed, engineered to cross neutral territories under the Council's stringent regulations, transporting alchemists, dignitaries, vital materials, and a fortune substantial enough to entice a legion of criminals.

Such a scenario practically screamed 'trouble.'

But it also hummed with an undeniable allure.

Selara's demeanor shifted, her prior levity receding.

"Now, Trafalgar. Upon arrival, I shall manage the students. They'll adhere to supervised timetables, witness demonstrations, and possess ample liberty to explore the event safely. However, a specific meeting requires your presence alongside me."

Trafalgar leaned his broom casually against the table.

"The meeting where your master might make an appearance?"

"Potentially." Selara's expression grew stern, and for a rare moment, the characteristic eccentricity surrounding her did not obscure it. "Alchemists, innovators, and architects of arcane technology convene annually during the Conclave to unveil their most prized creations. I, too, shall be presenting something, though that is not the focal point."

"The crucial element is him."

"Precisely," Selara affirmed. "If he is present, he may attend that assembly. Should he be absent, our search of the city must be conducted with utmost discretion. Aurevane boasts formidable security, rendering careless movements perilous, and during the Conclave, every individual draws significant attention."

Trafalgar offered a slight nod.

"Understood, Director. If that concludes our discussion, I shall take my leave. I wish to commence my preparations, even with two months remaining before our departure. It is always prudent to be ready in advance."

Selara waved a dismissive hand.

"Very well. I too, shall begin my preparations. However, do not allow this endeavor to detract from your studies."

"Naturally."

Trafalgar gave a brief wave and turned towards the exit.

Selara, at first, did not register his departure.

This was because, in essence, he had been sweeping the identical patch of floor throughout their entire conversation, cleaning nothing beyond that limited area.

Upon finally glancing down and observing that the shattered glass remained virtually undisturbed, her head jolted towards the door.

"Trafalgar."

There was no response.

She pulled the door open.

The corridor stood utterly deserted.

Far from Selara's laboratory, Trafalgar was already in motion, the [Shadowlink Echo] held firmly in his hand.

Two months presented ample time.

This also implied it was more than enough time for inadequate preparation if he procrastinated too greatly.