The impressive recognition of Emery's ascent to the ranks of the top ten Junior Apothecary Masters in the distinguished assembly of the Wood Elf community was indeed a significant achievement.
Yet his inclusion, despite not being one of their kind, stirred a maelstrom of discontent in the audience. Whispers of disapproval reverberated through the crowd, each skeptical glance a silent judgment, creating an atmosphere of apprehension that was as palpable as a thick blanket of fog hanging in the air.
However, Emery, far from being intimidated by this perturbing ambiance, chose to let the murmurs fade into the background. Instead, he steadfastly fixed his focus on the path that lay before him. His eyes, locked onto the horizon, were filled with unwavering resolve, a testament to his indomitable spirit.
With determination that stood undeterred by the incessant wave of criticism, Emery advanced towards the stage, his gaze steely and unwavering. He navigated through the crowd, much like a ship cutting through the stormy seas, with gazes that felt like sharp spears of disapproval stabbing at his skin. Yet, Emery, unyielding as ever, held his head high, his spirit unbridled as he ascended the stage to join the nine other esteemed Wood Elf apothecary masters.
The stage was a beacon, shining with the luminous prestige of the Wood Elf community's most accomplished members. Among them was Vaandill from the revered sixth colony, Logain from the illustrious eighth colony, Liadrin, a respected female apothecary and protege of a famed Grandmaster. Maksin was another formidable presence among this elite group.
As Emery claimed his place among these esteemed individuals, he felt their skepticism, their incredulity, their silent challenge. It was mirrored in their eyes, each reflecting a message clear as day - they did not believe he deserved to stand among them, on that shared pedestal of honor and achievement.
The air around the stage seemed to pulsate with tension, yet not one person dared to openly question the Grand Maestro's decision to allow Emery into their ranks. This shared resentment, however, could not be contained for long, finding a route to Emery through the ethereal, intangible pathways of telepathy.
<You don't belong here, you ruined the sanctity of this event>
Took Emery only a second to know it was words spoken by Maksin who stood in the other side of the stage.
Emery's response was immediate, his words, a defiant roar in the quiet storm, suggested that the disgruntled apothecaries take up their grievances with the judges who had chosen him willingly.
<You can take that with the judges; they are pretty happy to choose me>
<Slippery tongue and a cheater, you have no shame>
<Cheat?>
<Admit it, without the help of that human judge you would never be standing here>
The accusation left a bitter aftertaste, an unpleasant reminder of the blatant favoritism shown by Grand Master Hazzard, who had awarded Emery three of his twelve flower badges. This revelation cast the whole scenario under a new light, stoking the embers of Emery's determination into a fiery resolve. He was no longer here for just the reward; he was here to assert his worth.
Fortunately for him, the event was far from its conclusion. The second round held the promise of redemption, an opportunity to prove his critics wrong, to put his skills on display and reclaim his tarnished reputation. The events of the previous round served as a potent catalyst, setting his spirit ablaze, ready to confront the upcoming challenge with unyielding vigor.
With his secret already revealed by the dark elves and his departure from the planet looming, Emery saw no reason to hold back anymore. There would be no downplaying his capabilities or projecting a fa?ade of modesty. It was time to unleash his full potential, to let it shine in all its glory.
"It's time for the second round!" The Grand Maestro's announcement rang through the crowd, resonating through the gathering of thousands of high-profile guests, effectively drawing their attention towards the stage.
The second round represented a significant shift from showcasing the apothecaries' masterpieces to a formidable challenge posed by the Grand Maestro himself. This transition was marked by a change of venue, moving from the lively hubbub of the crowd to a serene garden nestled in the heart of the venue, enclosed within a crystal-clear glass dome.
The garden was a vibrant explosion of colors, its lush trees, and blooming flowers housing a variety of creatures. The biodome, a self-sustaining ecosystem, offered a peaceful respite from the competitive tension. But the tranquillity was destined to be short-lived.
The Grand Maestro addressed the crowd, his voice resonating with pride as he acknowledged the promising new generation of Apothecary Masters.
"I am proud to see these talented new Apothecary Masters among us," he paused, letting his words sink in before continuing, "Before we start, I would once again remind you about our Apothecary Creed."
The Apothecary Creed was a unifying mission, a call to arms for all apothecaries in their shared pursuit of creating a better world, a universe teeming with life.
Following his inspiring speech, the Grand Maestro unveiled a wooden box from his storage ring. From within the box, he produced a vial filled with a dark blue liquid. The sight instantly ignited curiosity among the judges and elders present, and a murmur rippled through the crowd.
Concerned voices expressed worry about the ominous nature of the substance, pleading for an alternative challenge. Disregarding their pleas, the Grand Maestro proceeded to add a drop of the dark blue liquid to the biodome. The resulting effect was immediate and devastating, turning the once thriving landscape into a desolate wasteland, its inhabitants succumbing in mere seconds.
The shocking transformation silenced the crowd, their faces a mirror reflecting the deadly potency of the substance.
The Grand Maestro seemed ready to name the terrifyingly potent virus, and when he did, a wave of apprehension washed over the crowd. "The Virulent Blight," he declared with a grave solemnity, his voice echoing ominously across the assembly.
The audience was silent as the name sank in. Emery had heard of this term before. It was infamous as one of the three most hazardous substances, an unresolved issue causing nightmares to many civilizations across the universe. The Virulent Blight was an aggressively potent virus, known for its swift annihilation of life on an entire planet within a few days.
Carefully, with the respect a deadly weapon of mass destruction deserved, the Grand Maestro placed the dark vial containing the Virulent Blight on a table. Then, as if to soothe the anxiety that had begun to grip the audience, he took out another vial. This one sparkled with a silver substance inside, an apparent ray of hope against the impending doom.
[Panacea Liquid - Tier 7, Originality 2]
This antidote was a creation of the Grand Maestro himself, a potential solution to counter the disastrous effects of the Virulent Blight. However, its preparation involved extremely rare ingredients and a complex process. The solution, unfortunately, wasn't readily available or easily replicable, making it too late for most civilizations facing the wrath of the Virulent Blight.
The audience held their breath as the Grand Maestro announced the challenge, "You are to concoct a potion capable of resisting the Virulent Blight for as long as possible."
The challenge was daunting and the stakes were higher than ever. Moreover, all ten participants were allowed only three hours to prepare their solutions. To add to the complexity, they were restricted to the use of ingredients up to Tier 5 as a catalyst.
It became clear then, the Grand Maestro wasn't seeking a miracle cure. Instead, he was interested in the inventive approaches the participants would adopt to confront the challenge.
Before the commencement of the task, the Grand Maestro allowed all ten competitors to access the Groves' expansive garden filled with thousands of ingredients and access to a massive structure housing an extensive collection of alchemical supplies. The interior was lined with rows of shelves, each stacked meticulously with vials, bottles, and jars of myriad ingredients.
This was an opportunity to gather any ingredients they might need for their potentially life-saving concoctions. The abundance of nature's bounty and a plethora of alchemical supplies were at their disposal.
With the stage set and the rules laid out, the Grand Maestro announced the beginning of the test, "Let's start."
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