Rising from the Ashes (Andrew and Lauren) novel Chapter 1367

"Then I'd love to see if your ending is really any better than mine!" Thomas snapped, his defeat fueling the bitterness he now hurled at Andrew. The sting of failure had clearly twisted his mood, and Andrew became the target of his frustration.

Meanwhile, Mosby stood with his hands behind his back, beaming toward the judges' platform.

He said proudly, "Clifford, Preston, my fellow peers in medicine. You've all checked this kid's so-called elixir by now, haven't you? If my guess is right, what he made isn't even an elixir—it's just trash, plain and simple."

He followed it up with another burst of arrogant laughter. He had noticed earlier that Andrew's cauldron had not released even a trace of medicinal aroma. It was like cooking a meal with no smell coming out—there could only be one conclusion: total failure.

Just then, startled voices rose from behind, followed by the sound of hurried shuffling and clattering.

"Huh? W-What is this…"

Suddenly, Mosby's brow furrowed, wondering what Preston and Clifford were doing. Were they really that shaken by Andrew's failed elixir?

He turned to look, just in time to meet their eyes. In that instant, Mosby's heart skipped a beat. Their eyes were filled with something akin to horror, pure disbelief like they had just seen a ghost.

Then, chaos erupted. The expert panel and high-ranking medical professionals all surged forward at once, shouting over one another.

"My god! That fragrance—so concentrated it's contained—and its surface is gleaming!"

"This… this is a seventh-grade Imperial Pill! It completely outclasses any sixth-grade Royal Elixir!"

"You know what this means? Andrew… Andrew must be a seventh-grade alchemist—an Imperial Alchemist!"

"It's over! Dr. Lake has been thoroughly crushed! Andrew is the real winner—we have to revise the results!"

Logan was drenched in cold sweat. "Father, doing that might spark an all-out war with the Three Titans!"

George growled, "Just do it! For Andrew, I'll go to war with the whole world if I have to! I told you before—this boy is our family's chosen one. I'll kill anyone who dares touch him!"

His words were laced with a fury so primal, so deadly, he looked like a wild beast ready to tear into flesh.

Down on the arena floor, Mosby's eyelid twitched violently. He shouted, "Shut up! You quacks don't know what you're talking about—every one of you is full of it! Get out of my way! Move! All of you, move! I'm the champion! I am the Grand Physician! It's always been me!"

His furious howls tore through the hall, drowning out every earlier trace of triumph and composure. All that pride, all that confidence, evaporated.

What was left was a disheveled man shoving people aside in a mad dash toward Andrew's alchemy cauldron. He leaned in to look—and the moment he saw what was inside, his entire body went rigid. Then, his knees buckled, and he collapsed onto the floor.