The one who spoke up in rebuttal was Rose!
No one knew when she had returned. Her face frosty, she said to the middle-aged man, "Mr. Jefferson Kingsley, please apologize to Lord Ronan!"
"Apologize?"
Jefferson Kingsley adjusted the gold-rimmed glasses on his nose and sneered. "Why should I apologize? Let everyone judge for themselves. Do you think this Ronan looks like an alchemist?"
Ronan really did not look like one!
As one of the top professions among the supernatural, alchemists were exceedingly rare. Since most of them spent their time conducting experiments in alchemy labs, they were seldom seen in ordinary times.
And in the tales sung by bards, alchemists were usually depicted wearing robes and pointed hats, with white beards nearly dragging along the ground, glasses perched on their noses, and tools in their hands.
In fact, this image had its basis in reality, because some alchemists really did look like that.
The most important point was that most alchemists were already quite old.
After all, learning and mastering alchemy was a long process.
And Ronan was too young.
If he claimed to be an alchemy apprentice, everyone could barely accept it. But an alchemist was an entirely different matter.
Jefferson Kingsley's doubts were reasonable.
And he himself was an alchemy apprentice!
At this moment, more and more supernatural beings were drawn over by the commotion between the two.
After learning what had happened, many cast curious, cold, contemptuous, and doubtful looks at Ronan.
The Holy Fire Society was an organization of supernatural beings. No one wanted to see some counterfeit muddling in and joining them.
"Judge?"
Before Ronan could speak, Rose stepped forward again. She scoffed at Jefferson Kingsley's retort. "You're only an alchemy apprentice. What right do you have to judge a genius alchemist? It would be