163 Chapter 163 The President’s Reluctance and a
Rival’s Reckoning
“Absolutely not,” I said, pushing away the ornate certificate of presidency they kept trying to hand me. “I appreciate the honor, but I have no interest in running the Traditional Medicine Association.
The silver–haired official who had arrested Desmond–or rather, Dorian–looked at me with blatant disbelief. “Mr. Knight, this is an unprecedented opportunity. The Council rarely makes such direct appointments.”
I sighed, feeling the exhaustion of the day settling into my bones. The creation of the Pill Cloud had drained more of my energy than I’d anticipated, and the aftermath of Desmond’s dramatic arrest had turned the conference hall into chaos. Everyone wanted a piece of me–my time, my knowledge, my connections.
“My answer remains the same,” I said firmly. “I’m an alchemist, not a politician. I prefer to work in peace, not navigate bureaucracy.”
The woman frowned but nodded reluctantly. “Very well. We’ll find an interim solution.” She handed me a small, intricately carved wooden box instead. “At least accept your prize from the competition. The hundred–year–old Knotweed is rightfully yours.”
This I took without hesitation. The Knotweed was exactly why I’d entered this competition in the first place–a rare medicinal herb that would significantly boost my cultivation. I opened the box briefly to check its contents, satisfied to see the gnarled dark root nestled inside, its power palpable even to my exhausted senses.
As the officials dispersed to deal with the administrative fallout of Desmond’s arrest, I felt a presence approach from behind. Turning, I found myself face–to–face with Elias Ainsworth. His earlier awe had hardened into something more complex–a begrudging respect tinged with bitterness.
“Knight,” he said stiffly, “I meant what I said. You beat me fairly.”
I studied his face, noting the conflict in his eyes. “And yet you don’t seem entirely happy about that fact.”
A muscle twitched in his jaw. “Would you be? I’ve dedicated my life to becoming the
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best, only to discover I’m nowhere close.” He glanced around to ensure no one was within earshot. “My master was a fraud, it seems. And I wasted seven years learning
from him.”
Despite everything, I felt a flicker of sympathy. “Not wasted. Even flawed teachings can provide a foundation.”
Elias scoffed. “Easy for you to say, with your… whatever that was. He gestured vaguely upward, where the Pill Cloud had been. “Where did you learn such a thing? Who was
your master?”
“No one you’d know,” I replied simply, unwilling to reveal my secrets.
His eyes narrowed slightly. “Well, whoever they were, they created a monster. He gave a curt nod that might have been respect or resentment, then turned and walked away. his shoulders rigid with wounded pride.
I watched him go, knowing our paths would likely cross again. Elias was talented and ambitious–a dangerous combination when mixed with the humiliation he’d just experienced.
By the time I made it back to my hotel room, every muscle in my body ached with fatigue. I locked the door behind me, then collapsed onto the bed, staring at the ceiling.
The Knotweed box sat on the bedside table, alongside the purple Curing Pill I’d kept as a backup. Two incredible treasures–one to advance my cultivation, one that could save a life in dire circumstances. Not a bad outcome for a few days‘ work.
A knock at the door interrupted my thoughts. Groaning, I forced myself up.
“Who is it?” I called, not bothering to mask my irritation.
“Anthony Harding, sir,” came the response. “Master Jackson sent me.”
I opened the door to find the young man looking nervous but excited. Jackson. Harding’s nephew had proven reliable in our previous dealings.
“I assume you’re here about the pill?” I asked, letting him in.
Anthony nodded eagerly, “Uncle Jackson said you might have something to trade.
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Something extraordinary.
I retrieved the backup Curing Pill and held it out. “Tell your uncle this can heal nearly any injury or illness. Its true value is beyond calculation, but I trust him to trade fairly.”
Anthony’s eyes widened as he accepted the small container, handling it like it might. explode. “I… yes, of course. He mentioned you were interested in rare cultivation materials?”
“Specifically, information on the whereabouts of certain herbs. Celestial–grade herbs.” I fixed him with a meaningful look.
Understanding dawned in his eyes. “I’ll convey your interests precisely. Uncle Jackson has connections everywhere. He bowed slightly. “Thank you for your trust, Master Knight.”
After he left, I sank back onto the bed. One more task remained before I could rest- waiting to see if Killian Moreau would honor our unspoken arrangement. The Ganoderma I sought was in his possession, and our little game of chicken was approaching its conclusion.
I pulled out my communication stone, considering whether to contact him directly, then decided against it. Patience was key with men like Killian. Let him make the next
move.
Across the city, in a lavishly appointed, private chamber, Killian Moreau stared out at the Veridia City skyline, a glass of aged spirit in his hand. The Ganoderma sat on his desk, sealed in a preservation formation that maintained its potency.
“Still no word from Knight?” asked his aide, standing respectfully by the door.
Killian swirled his drink contemplatively. “No. Perhaps he lacks the courage to approach me directly.”
“Or perhaps he’s testing you, sir.”
Killian’s lips quirked into a half–smile. “Perhaps. Either way, I’m curious how long he’ll
wait before-
A commotion outside interrupted him. The door burst open, and another of his subordinates rushed in, forgetting all protocol in his excitement.
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