Fate Alchemist - A Regression Academy LitRPG

The carriage rumbled through the streets of Centralis City. They drove slowly through the packed streets of the old city, dodging civilians. They paused at an intersection, and the coachman turned. Wulf glanced to the side, pressing his forehead up against the carriage's window, trying to see what the commotion was. He could hear shouts from behind them.

A group of civilians in raggedy garb stood on the intersecting street, which the carriage had been about to turn down. None of them were Ascendants, as best Wulf could tell, but most were protesting. They chanted various slogans about the Oroniths and the wall. Most seemed to think the Oroniths were a waste of time and money.

Wulf wanted to tell them that not every city could just build a giant wall, and there was no guarantee if it'd work. And at that, someone still had to defend the wall. But from their position, would he not be annoyed, seeing the daily lives of the Ascendants, the opulence of the Academy, and do something about it?

"I'm surprised the guards aren't shutting them down," Wulf said.

A row of non-Ascendant guards in heavy chainmail and matching red gambesons stood in front of the protestors, making a line with tower shields. No one clashed just yet, but Wulf wouldn't have pegged the Academy and Centralis City as ones for mercy. Especially in the old town.

Kalee nodded. "Me too."

Wulf leaned forward, crossing between the seats, and tapped on the glass behind the driver. He pulled it opened and asked, "Yes?"

"Do you know why they aren't shutting down the protests?" Wulf asked.

"They're waiting, son," the driver replied. "It's been like this before, but these kids don't remember."

"What're they waiting for?" Wulf was pretty sure he already knew, and his stomach dropped.

"For it to become a riot," the driver said. "Has happened before. Protests weren't about the demons, 'course, but they were protesting something. It always goes the same way. Looking for 'dark elf agitators,' they'll say. Trying to get in the way of the alliance negotiations, they'll say." He shrugged. "When things go violent, the city guard will clean it up, and it won't be pretty. You'd best stay away from them."

Wulf nodded his thanks, then sat back down. The guard closed the window.

"Not much we can do in that department," Kalee said. "I know you want to help, but…"

He sighed. "Yeah. Still doesn't feel right. But when we destroy the demons, it won't matter. At least, they won't have their concerns about the wall or the Oroniths."

He and Kalee sat in silence for a few minutes. Finally, the carriage navigated out of the old city and climbed up onto a bridge, escaping the crowded markets and side streets below. By now, it was late afternoon, and the sun was descending over the city.

"Wulf, have you noticed anything weird about Varl?" Kalee asked.

He exhaled. "I don't know how to explain it, but…yes."

"These past few days, I've been getting a familiar sensation from him. I can't put my finger on it yet, but it's making me…I dunno." She wrung her fingers together and shut her eyes. "Anxious?"

"At least, once we get in with the Lions, we'll have everything we need to deal with them. We'll be close, we can keep an eye on them the whole time," Wulf said. "If something goes wrong, we'll be there to see."

The bridge took them straight through the city. They aimed for downtown. Slowly, housing blocks grew taller on all sides, flanking the bridge, then overshadowing it. The bridge ended and deposited them back on the ground, on the quilt of city blocks. Now, enormous guild towers, filled with administrative offices and paper-pushing secretaries, rose fifty storeys above street level. The newest were covered almost all in glass—a bland, modern, utilitarian style.

Carriages packed the streets, but here, they were wide. Wulf's first thought was that they were wide enough for an Oronith to walk through. He cursed himself for the thought. They were probably jinxing themselves by saying that.

But then again, there'd been plenty of fighting in Centralis—in the future. Now, he might just end up taking part in it.

"You're thinking the same thing?" Kalee asked, looking up through the carriage's windows.

"Depends? You're thinking about fighting Fiends in these streets?"

"Yeah."

"Then we're thinking the same thing."

"It's been a while since the last attack," Kalee said.

"You wouldn't happen to remember when one's supposed to be?" he asked.

"Not over here. But I'd say it's relatively soon. We're getting into autumn, and there were always more attacks in the fall. At least at the start."

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Wulf had thought that was weird at first, but in Dr. Arnau's class, in the study of Natural Spirits, they'd discussed the timing of certain events. Spirits tended to be more active during certain times of the year, and much of their power depended on which constellations were visible, or what phase of the moon it was. Something to do with ancient, pre-field magic. But in all of that, there'd been a study of the stars and the heavens.

Their world, called Atterr by the philosophers and stargazers, was a planet, a rock floating through an enormous heavenly void. It circled the sun, and the sun moved through the void along a route as well.

Wulf drew his own connections from there. If the demons came from the void, then Atterr was likely passing through a cluster of those demon spheres. It was a trap waiting in the great void, ready to spring at any moment and catch an unsuspecting planet that wandered through the cluster.

And that meant they were just at the edge of the cluster of demon-spheres. When Atterr rotated the right way, they passed through a higher density of the spheres. During the fall and winter.

The carriage rumbled to a halt in front of a tall apartment building on prime real-estate in the middle of the downtown guild district.

"This is where your family's staying?" Wulf asked softly.

"My uncle's a manager in the Wheelwright's Guild. The central branch, too," Kalee said. "This is his city apartment. Or, he owns an apartment in here."

"I didn't think you guys were an important family…"

"We're not," Kalee said quickly. "Uncle Cheenalu rose the ranks by making some good connections in Istalis. He didn't even go to the Academy, but he got lucky, and took credit for saving a guild representative's life. That began his rise, and…well, he's got a bit of an attitude about it."

"Took credit?"

"Well, we didn't know that he lied back…around this time, in my last life. But I found out later, and it turned out that he just made the story up. His friend actually saved the guildy, but died in the process."

"Ah," was all Wulf could say. He was pretty sure what to expect, now. After a few more seconds, he told Kalee, "I'll keep my mouth shut as much as I can, and I'll be there for you in case things go poorly, alright?" He wasn't exactly sure what that would look like, but he half-expected the trouble to come from Kalee herself.

"Thanks."

The carriage's driver hopped down from his seat and walked over, then opened the carriage's door for the both of them. "We have arrived," he said. "Have a pleasant evening. What time should I expect you?"

"By sunset," Kalee said. "I don't plan on being much later."

"Very well."

Wulf and Kalee walked up the street. In the downtown area, the roads were wide enough for three carriages on each side, and everyone drove on the right side of the street. There was a median filled with palm trees, keeping both sides separate, and off to the side, a single narrow pathway for foot traffic. It was all cobblestone, and probably built quickly during the city's boom of expansion.

By now, most people were leaving their towers. Guild workers crowded the streets, wearing formal doublets and gambesons, or badges to mark their affiliation. They pushed and bustled along the sidewalks, and sometimes spilled into the streets. Some hailed carriages, and others hopped on crowded, open-top wagons pulled by a team of golems and Pilots. The wagons could hold thirty, maybe forty people.

In the alleys and shaded alcoves, vagrants sat, nursing sores. Wulf averted his eyes when he spotted a man huff reema dust through a specialized inhaler, and shuddered.

At least the Lions were going down soon. He'd make sure of that.

"You're alright?" Kalee whispered.

"I'm good. Let's go."

An awning hung over the guild tower's entrance. They stepped up to the building's gate, where a private guard in a regal purple coat stopped them. He was a Low-Iron, according to the rank badge on his lapel, and probably a Ranger, judging by the bow over his shoulder.

"Where are you going?" the guard asked.

"We're here as guests of Mr. Cheenalu," Kalee provided. "He left a note for us, right?"

"Ah, Master Cheenalu said that we were expecting a single pangian girl. Something about her not being sociable enough to ever find a boyfriend."

Wulf almost chuckled, but he resisted. Kalee hadn't struck him as unsociable, though she'd kinda been adopted into their friend group, and hadn't made any on her own, either.

"Well, she's got company." Kalee crossed her arms. "Can we come in?"

"Right this way," the guard said, then led them across a lobby. It had a high ceiling and polished marble floors, and there was a cafe in the corner, where guests sat, somehow with the appetite for warm pastries and coffee in this weather. At least it was slightly cooler within the lobby. Was that a cooling construct above the door? Its runes glowed blue, sucking the heat out of the air and pumping it outside—the reverse of a flame Mage's power.

There was a reception desk on the other side of the lobby, with all non-Ascendant workers. They bowed their heads, seeing the guests were Ascendants, and temporarily stopped scribbling notes on their clipboards.

"Housing policy," the guard explained. "All non-Ascendants must show utmost respect to the Ascendant guests, save for those considered 'Master', like your uncle. Anyone above the thirtieth floor, in a penthouse suite, is a Master, even if they aren't an Ascendant themselves."

Instead of a long set of stairs like Wulf dreaded, they came to a small wooden pod at the end of the floor. The Ranger pushed apart a set of sliding doors, revealing a young Middle-Coal mage inside. He smiled and said, "Which level, sir and madame?"

"Uh…" Kalee winced, then closed her eyes. "It's been a while. Floor thirty-one, I think. Uncle wanted to be in the Master's floors as a status symbol, considering he's not an Ascendant. But that was a splurge, even for him."

"Very well," the young man said. He was probably a year or two younger than Wulf, and his purple uniform fit poorly. Still, he raised his arms, and a faint white rune-circle appeared around his wrist. A gust of wind roared from below, and fabric rustled. Wulf peered through the windows beside the pod. There were two downward-facing sails, which ruffled and fluttered when the gusts hit them. With the strength of the gale in the contained chamber, the pod rose up.

When they reached the thirty-first floor, the Mage kicked out a wooden bar, and it locked into a slot, holding the pod in-place. Wulf's jaw was probably on the floor. He'd just thought they used stairs.

"It's like you've never seen a lift-pod before," Kalee said.

"I haven't. And you're stalling."

She sighed.

"I'll be right here," Wulf said. "But you've gotta go first."