The Sovereign System.

'That's it… Saltpeter, charcoal, and sulfur. I'm 100% certain these are the ingredients for gunpowder. The only problem is, I don't know the exact ratios—or how to properly prepare them.'

Luke's mind raced. He needed to experiment. There were too many variables, and without a precise formula, he would have to conduct numerous tests to refine the mixture.

"Alchemist, what is your name?" Luke asked, lifting his gaze.

"Adam Searle, General." The man bowed.

"Adam, I need you to gather all the saltpeter, sulfur, and wood you can find. Every last bit, no matter the price."

The alchemist hesitated but nodded. "Yes, General. I already have a good supply of these ingredients, but I will source more. May I ask what they're for?"

Luke's expression remained firm. "We're creating a new compound—one that ignites upon contact with flame. If we succeed, not only will we survive this siege, but your name will be written into history."

Easier said than done.

Before Adam could respond, Luke continued. "I will return this evening. Have everything ready by then." He turned toward the door but paused. "And get a variety of wood—pine, bamboo, oak, willow—whatever you can find."

Without waiting for a reply, he left, his steps uneven from the dull pain in his leg. He needed to find General Boyd.

As expected, he found the massive man still stationed on the ramparts, staring out at the enemy camp. It was as if he hadn't moved in hours, burning the sight of the enemy general into his mind and soul.

"General, I need time. We're working on a new compound with combustible properties. If we—"

"Very well." Boyd cut him off, his voice low and resolute. "You have ten days. If you don't have a solution by then, we'll have no choice but to attack."

His eyes never left the enemy below.

"Understood. Thank you, sir."

Luke wasn't surprised. They had, at most, twelve days' worth of rations left. If they were going to fight, it was better to do so while the men were still fed and strong rather than wait until starvation set in.

'Ten days…'

He made his way back to the City Lord's estate. There was much to do—too much. If he was going to pull this off, he needed rest while he still had the chance.

After arriving, he called for a maid. "Wake me at dusk."

She nodded as he removed his boots and climbed into bed. It had been days since his last proper bath, but there was no time to worry about that now.

The moment his head hit the pillow, sleep claimed him.

Some time later, a gentle voice stirred him awake.

"My Lord, it is time."

Luke opened his eyes as the maid handed him a cup of water. He took it and drank deeply, the cool liquid refreshing his dry throat. Through the window, he saw that the sun had set.

Time to visit the alchemist.

Luke slipped on his boots and left the estate. He hadn't seen Kayson since the morning incident, but he wasn't worried. Between the City Lord and General Boyd, someone would be keeping an eye on him. There were more pressing matters at hand.

Returning to the main street, he headed for the alchemy shop, only to find it empty. Luke frowned in displeasure, already considering calling for nearby soldiers to track the man down.

"Deputy General, over here."

A voice called out from further down the street.

Turning, Luke saw Adam Searle poking his head out from a different building, waving him over. Letting out a small sigh of relief, he made his way inside.

"This is also my workshop, sir. It's where I conduct my experiments," Adam explained as he led Luke in.

The interior was significantly larger than the shop. Wooden benches lined the room, cluttered with various herbs, minerals, and alchemical instruments—pestles and mortars, parchment filled with scribbled notes, and clay jars labeled in neat script.

In the corner stood a crucible beside a furnace, along with buckets filled with various metals.

Luke nodded in approval. The technology was primitive, but he had been expecting worse.

"Did you retrieve the materials?"

"Yes, General. We have ample saltpeter and sulfur. As for wood, I could only obtain a few varieties. I wasn't sure which you needed, so I gathered a mix." Adam's voice carried a hint of excitement, no doubt eager to witness whatever new discovery lay ahead.

"You did well," Luke acknowledged. "Now, take a small amount of saltpeter and expose it to an open flame. Let's see if it burns on its own."

"Yes, sir."

Adam followed the order, placing a small pile of saltpeter into the crucible and lighting a flame beneath it.

Luke leaned in, watching intently. As expected, the substance did not burn on its own.

Instead of disappointment, a satisfied nod crossed his face.

'Saltpeter acts as an oxidizer. It won't burn alone, but if it's used to fuel a fire, it should make the flames burn hotter and brighter.'

To confirm his theory, he instructed Adam to mix in some wood ash and apply fire again. He didn't want to rely on assumptions—especially not when time was a luxury they didn't have.

Soon enough, the mixture ignited, burning more intensely than before. A small smile tugged at Luke's lips.

Approaching the table, he examined the saltpeter more closely. Its color was slightly off—not pure white, as he had expected. A frown crept onto his face.

'It's impure. Probably mixed with dirt and other contaminants that could disrupt the oxidation process.'

"Do you know how to purify saltpeter?" he asked.

Adam hesitated. "I've never attempted to purify it, General. I usually use it as-is for tinctures and tonics."

Luke's eyes narrowed. "That's not what I asked. Do you know how?"

Adam flinched slightly but quickly recovered, stroking his chin in thought. "Perhaps… if I dissolve it in hot water and strain it through cloth, the impurities would remain behind. But then we'd have to boil the water away, and the remaining saltpeter would be wet. Drying it would take time."

Luke nodded. "That will do. Purify as much as possible. As for the drying, we'll leave it in the sun tomorrow."

"Y-Yes, General…" Adam stammered before springing into action. He looked momentarily lost, but after a brief pause, he began following Luke's orders.

Meanwhile, Luke's mind was racing. The next crucial component was the wood—the fuel that would burn alongside the saltpeter. Choosing the right type was critical. It needed to sustain a steady burn without being consumed too quickly.

'Hardwood should be the best choice, right?' he mused before shaking his head. 'No assumptions. I need to test each one and rely on results, not guesses.'

He crossed the room to the pile of gathered wood and selected a few different types—oak, willow, pine, and bamboo. Two hardwoods, two softwoods.

"I need some empty clay pots and kindling," he said aloud.

Adam, still focused on his own task, pointed to the other side of the room. "Clay pots are over there. Kindling's by the furnace. Help yourself."

There was a slight edge to the alchemist's voice—annoyance, perhaps. Luke ignored it. They were both working under pressure.

Taking the materials, he placed each type of wood in its own clay pot, then lit them carefully, ensuring a small opening remained to create a low-oxygen environment.

With nothing to do but wait, he sat on the ground, massaging his injured leg. Across the room, Adam was busy dissolving the bulk of the saltpeter into warm water. He worked methodically, alternating between two large pots, sweat forming on his brow from the heat.

They worked in silence, each focused on their respective tasks.

After a short while, Luke checked on his clay pots. The softwoods—pine and bamboo—had already burned much faster than the hardwoods. If he left them any longer, they would turn to ash. Acting quickly, he tipped the contents onto the ground and stamped out the small flames.

From across the room, he could feel Adam's silent glare. The alchemist said nothing, but Luke could sense his displeasure.

For some reason, that amused him. 'The man's worried about the cleanliness of his workshop when twenty thousand enemies are outside, waiting to kill us.'

Another thirty minutes passed, and Luke now had four pieces of charcoal, each made from a different type of wood.

He took them, one by one, to the pestle and mortar, grinding them into fine powders and storing each in its own labeled clay pot.

Meanwhile, Adam had begun boiling the saltpeter solution over a fire, the room slowly filling with smoke from the burning wood. After opening a few windows to clear the air, he returned.

"The boiling will take some time, General."

Luke nodded. "Grab some of the remaining saltpeter. We're going to mix it with the charcoal and see which one burns the best."

Adam paused, tilting his head. "What do you mean by 'best flame'? Are we measuring size? Speed?"

Luke considered the question carefully. "It should be stable. If it burns too fast, it'll likely be a problem."

Truthfully, he wasn't sure. At this point, everything he was doing was uncharted territory.

Luke understood the basic principles of chemistry, but his knowledge was far from complete. One thing he was certain of, however, was that purer ingredients produced more predictable results. And by extension, the more stable the flame, the more reliable the reaction.

Adam, still skeptical, furrowed his brow. "If you're looking for combustion, wouldn't a fast-burning fuel be better?"

Luke shook his head. "Just do as I ask."

The alchemist hesitated for a moment before bowing slightly and carrying out the order. Soon, he returned with the ground saltpeter and handed it to Luke, who mixed it with the charcoal in equal parts.

For now, he decided to use a 1:1 ratio, ensuring consistency across each test.

"Let's begin."

Adam retrieved a burning stick from the nearby fire and placed it on the first mixture—bamboo.

The reaction was immediate. Flames flared up in an instant, burning brightly, but just as quickly, the mixture was spent.

Luke observed in silence before giving a slight nod. He then signaled Adam to move on to the pine mixture.

Much like bamboo, the pine burned hot and fast, its energy expended in mere moments.

The process continued with oak. This time, the flame burned just as bright, but noticeably steadier and longer. A small smile crept onto Luke's face.

'That's what I'm looking for—stability.'

The final test was willow, the wood he had the highest hopes for.

As expected, the results were even better. The flame burned steadily, even longer than oak, maintaining its heat without depleting too quickly.

Luke's smile widened. "Excellent. It seems willow will yield the best results."

Adam remained quiet. Whether he genuinely agreed or simply didn't want to question Luke any further was unclear, but either way, the conclusion was sound.

Since the saltpeter solution was still boiling, Luke decided to make use of the waiting time. "I'll prepare the rest of the willow into charcoal. No sense in wasting time."

Adam simply nodded, returning to his work.

There was still much left to do, but seeing tangible progress filled Luke with optimism.

They were one step closer.