Fate Alchemist - A Regression Academy LitRPG

Gom Pyek travelled closer to the shore, using the local body he'd occupied. It was strong, though with his help, it had ascended beyond what these people called "High-Iron." An extra tier, at least, though Pyek hid the advancement well. The boy's body, once an academy student, still struggled against Pyek's will, but that wouldn't last much longer. Soon, his old mind would be gone for good.

It wasn't quite as satisfying as keeping the will of a lesser being intact, and basking in their servitude, but it was close to having servants of your own. In the early stages of this world's destruction, it was the best Pyek could get.

The body carried him across the rooftops. He leapt from tower spires to sloped, shingled roofs, or the flat, marble tops.

He stayed far from the fighting, but he watched, wondering.

The first sign of something being out of the ordinary was when the Oroniths abruptly changed tactics, grouping up on the fiends instead of holding their positions—like they were supposed to.

The second sign was when an Oronith purposely led the fiends away. Gom Pyek tried reaching through the Ghirrar, telling the fiend to change course, telling the entire horde to stay in formation, but it was too late. They ignored the soft nudges of fate in favour of their hunger.

There was something…different about the Oronith leading the fiends off. It struggled physically, being weaker than the fiend, but it fought like its Pilot had commanded a stone beast their whole lives.

It shouldn't have been possible, yet he was watching it with…well, they weren't his own eyes, but close enough.

He reached out through the Ghirrar, hunting for anything to explain this anomaly, but he didn't have to search long. The threads reaching out from the Oronith and its crew were tangled and knotted. He didn't know what to make of it.

Surely, they were the anomaly that his master had seen. He was to kill them, and that he would, but there was also a challenge there. He wouldn't back down from it.

The challenge wasn't just to kill them, but to learn why their threads were so tangled before killing them. If he didn't, there was a chance this endeavour would fail. More than a chance. The Ghirrar didn't lie, and they didn't twist for no reason. He'd never seen this before.

If he didn't figure out what was going on, they might lose this world in its entirety. That would mean his death, the death of his slaves, whatever land he did earn…

But if he could report why this was happening to his master, he would be rewarded heartily for it.

He wasn't in battle, he hadn't joined the attack, and he was simply watching. Here, he had taken advantage of an opportunity, and that was all. But his true mission and purpose remained: the caverns beneath the academy. Those, he could not retreat from.

There were preparations to make.

~ ~ ~

Wulf ran Silent Wraith back to the shore, trying to damage as little of the city as possible. He dodged wagons and stepped over port equipment, until he finally made it back to the wharf. There, he straightened up as high as he could, and looked out over the waves.

The battle offshore continued. What organization the fiends had previously had was now gone, but the Oroniths clumped up, making themselves the biggest target, and fiends never backed down.

But there were still eight of them, and they were on average stronger than the Oroniths. A few of the enormous statues lay in ruin out to sea. But the Rex Basileus still stood at the front of the formation, at the tip of an arrowhead shape, breaking the fiends, then sent the straggling Oroniths around the outside to catch the fiends on both sides.

At the moment, it looked like they'd win, but it would be costly.

"Did this happen last time?" Seith asked. "The fiends making a concentrated push like that?"

"We would've heard about it," Wulf said, "even if we didn't see it."

"This attack must've happened," Kalee added. "The demon spheres would've fallen with or without us. But if everything about the attack played out the same, the fiends would've stomped the Academy to rubble. Last time, it took decades before they finally destroyed the Centralis Academy."

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Wulf almost reached up to rub his chin, but in an Oronith, that might have been catastrophic. Instead, he said, "Something must have happened. But the only reasonable change to the timeline is our presence."

"You're saying you and Kalee caused this to happen?" Irmond exclaimed. "That's, like…insane."

"Eloquent as ever," Seith jabbed jokingly.

"Yeah, yeah."

"I don't know why," Wulf said. "I…am going to have to think a little more on that, but we need to get moving. If we get back out there, we can save another Oronith before the night's done."

He took a step down off the wharf, sinking Wraith's boot into the harbour, and set off. But he only made it three steps before a high-pitched whine, like thousands of windchimes ringing at once, roared across the harbour.

Wulf couldn't exactly see what had happened, but it sounded like the younger Umoch's spell Skills…just louder, deeper, and travelled farther.

Of course he wouldn't see anything. That family had a shadow-aspect. That must've meant Lord Umoch had come.

Wulf narrowed his eyes, half expecting to see an Oronith go down because of a shadow beam, but instead, a distant fiend's skull burst, ripped apart from the inside-out by an explosion of shadow. Wulf hadn't seen what had caused it, but that had to be the doing of Lord Umoch.

"Let's hope he doesn't harbour any ill will," Kalee said.

"Let's hope Azanthius protects us, more like," Wulf replied.

But for now, there was nothing more he could do, and he didn't want to get caught in the crossfire. He just had to watch.

A bar of darkness surged down from a point in the sky, cleaving through a fiend's arm. He only saw it when it blotted out the beams from the mana lights, or passed in front of a column of gray smoke.

One-by-one, the fiends fell. Either Lord Umoch blasted off their limbs, or tore their heads apart, but none of it was pretty. Once there was nothing left of the fiends but steaming corpses in the harbour, and a slick of black blood rolled across the waves, Wulf was satisfied that they'd won.

He was less satisfied that he now had more questions than answers.

~ ~ ~

The moment they returned to the Centralis Academy's hangar, Wulf braced for a trip to Dr. Azanthius' office. But this excursion had been sanctioned, he reminded himself, and he shouldn't be in trouble.

The headmaster was waiting for them anyway.

Wulf pulled out of the control apparatus and stored his golem safely away in his pendant before even leaving the cockpit, but they also couldn't keep the headmaster waiting.

"What do you think he wants?" Irmond asked.

"No idea," Kalee replied, unsocketing herself, then brushing out her dress. They hadn't exactly been in prime piloting gear, but they'd made it work.

"Let's get this over with." Wulf pushed open the hatch on the back of the Wraith's head, then stepped out onto the wooden platform, where Dr. Azanthius waited, his arms crossed. He stared at them. "Good evening, sir…is something wrong?"

"You did very well," Azanthius said. "Is it wrong for me to congratulate those who do well?"

"Well…" Wulf cleared his throat awkwardly. "I was half expecting an ulterior motive."

"Dr. Arnau also informs me that you have been doing well in her spirits class."

Wulf scrunched his eyebrows. "I'm sorry, sir, but I still feel like you're here for a reason."

"I made that comment because Dr. Arnau used to be my prized pupil. She didn't come from as humble a birth as you two, no, but she was a…very minor nobility…"

"For the record, I feel like this has to be going somewhere too," Seith commented, and Kalee and Irmond nodded. They stepped up onto the platform behind Wulf.

Dr. Azanthius looked down. "Then, I apologize as well. I was trying to butter you up, so to say. Lord Umoch has requested a meeting with you. I do not know what for, though I have my guesses."

Wulf swallowed. "Lord Umoch? Can I say no?"

"You don't decline a meeting from one of the Five Orichalcums. It would be incredibly unwise."

So, instead of changing into something more comfortable, instead of cleaning up and relaxing, Wulf, Kalee, Seith, and Irmond followed Azanthius up to his office.

The headmaster's office was located at the top of a spire in the very center of the academy. A winding stairway led up to it, with a few High-Iron guards posted out front. At the top of the stairs, there was a door, which Azanthius pushed open. It was already unlocked.

The room itself was modest. A desk sat at the center, with a high-backed, turquoise-cushioned chair behind it, and a ring of smaller chairs around the front side. Cabinets and drawers lined the wall, each full to the brim with trinkets and other devices. Wulf couldn't say what half of it did, and he reminded himself that he probably wasn't supposed to know what the other half did, either, as a twenty-year-old student.

On the opposite side of the room was another doorway, which led off to a different chamber—likely Azanthius' living quarters. Dr. Arnau sat in one of the small chairs, shifting rather awkwardly. More awkward than Wulf had ever seen her.

A man with a dark red cloak leaned against the door frame, picking his fingernails. His hood was down, and he looked almost exactly like his son—black hair, tanned skin, and piercing eyes. His irises were entirely black, however, and he was more muscular. Although he was about the same height as Wulf, his shoulders were much wider.

"Good evening," he said, pushing up off the door frame and approaching the desk. "I'm told you four are the crew of Silent Wraith. Is that correct?"