Fate Alchemist - A Regression Academy LitRPG

The saddle was just large enough for both Irmond and Wulf to ride together. They crossed miles and miles of countryside, sticking to the paved roads. Since it was the rainy season, going offroad would've been a nightmare.

They rode for a few days, always heading north. For the first day, there was nothing beyond the city but the Titan Woods. But even those passed, leaving only rolling beige-green hills, a spattering of deep green bushes and trees, and in the distance, the Yct-Dow mountains. He'd heard about them in his past life.

The best Rangers always made a pilgrimage there at some point during their advancement. Of course, with modern shipping and commercial breeding operations, it was easy to transport the precious livestock across the world, but it was always better to find your lifelong companion in the wild.

As the days passed, they stopped and camped at night. It never got cold enough that they needed more than a coat, not until the elevation truly began to increase. The olive plantations faded, cyprus trees became spruces and pines, and clumps of snow gathered beside the path.

"Yct-Dow?" Irmond shouted over the rushing wind as they rode up a winding mountain path. Fog lingered in the valleys below, and though the rivers weren't rushing nearly as quickly, the mountain lakes were still full to the brim.

"Yep!" Wulf replied. "You have an idea what we're doing now?"

"That's impossible before Iron!"

"Yeah, like it was impossible to split my core early, like it was impossible to get two Grand Marks?" Wulf shook his head. "What the Academy means when they say 'impossible' is actually 'unlikely'—and at that, 'unlikely for us with our rigid systems and inability to think outside our academic spheres.' "

"You think I can do it?"

"Absolutely."

They passed by a cluster of fallen demon spheres that'd crashed to the earth a few days ago, and passed a village that had been decimated by the smaller human-sized demons, before crossing a rickety bridge and finding the smouldering corpse of a colossal fiend. A few more miles along the mountain pass, they discovered a destroyed Oronith.

In the evening on the fourth day of riding, they arrived at a moderately-sized village. It wouldn't rival Centralis City, but these mountains were hard to develop. He didn't blame them for having nothing over two storeys, and only a single inn.

The buildings were made of pale wood and plaster, but instead of the clay shingles he'd come to expect from the Byrante, they had wooden shingles carved to look like feathers. Carved bird heads hung from the eaves, and totem poles with nothing but carved birds lined the approaching roadways.

"Is this just a tourist attraction?" Irmond asked. "They hamming it up for visitors, or…?"

"As far as I can tell, they're the real deal," Wulf said. "They've been here for centuries, tending to the wildlife and keeping these mountains wild."

"I'm sure they're not happy about the demons, then…"

"Certainly. Let's find a place to sleep, then we'll find a guide in the morning."

They stayed at the only inn overnight in a small room, but it was a welcome break from camping in hollows beside the road. In the morning, Wulf found a bunch of 'Nee' waiting outside the front of the inn. Nee—that being what the locals called the mountain guides.

"Can you show us to the bonding ledge?" Wulf asked the oldest and most experienced-looking of the men. He had rough, leathery skin, and wore a thick beaded coat with a fur lining. His hands were gnarled and scarred, and tendons popped out when he tightened his fists.

He looked them up and down, grimaced, then said, "Aye, I could do that, but no guarantees you'll like. A High-Bronze and a Middle-Copper. Huh. I would've never thought. You think you can both make the bond and live to tell the tale?"

"I think he can," Wulf said, motioning toward Irmond.

"Very well. Follow me." The Nee set off along the path, guiding them out of the village on foot. They walked all morning, taking rugged mountain paths that a horse could never manage. Every so often, Wulf felt the Field tingle, and a massive shadow would circle overhead. The clouds and fog stopped him from seeing anything, though.

"You really think I can do this?" Irmond asked softly as they walked. "I mean, I get it, you're tough. You've seen things and been through stuff. But like, I'm not that guy."

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"Haven't you felt it?" Wulf whispered. "The call of something more? That pull to be better? Maybe you want your family to be proud, but for people like us, there's something deeper. Not everyone feels it, but I think you do. There's a desire to improve yourself, no matter what."

"I…I don't think so."

"I'd be more worried if you could say you had it for certain. But I think you do. Are you ready to find out?"

"What if I don't have it?"

"Then you'll get torn apart. At best, you'll destroy your connection with the Field and be a non-Ascendant, but most times, it's worse." Wulf paused. "If you want, we can—"

"No. I'll do it."

"That's what I thought."

At noon, they arrived at an overlook, and only then could Wulf fully appreciate how high they were. He didn't think he'd been this far from the ground, though he'd probably been at a higher elevation in Clegghold. It just didn't seem like it, when he could look all the way down to the river valley below, and when, in the very distance, he glimpsed the lands they'd ridden across to get here.

He'd seen plenty of mountains before. It shouldn't have been terribly new, but it was. There was something different about these mountains over the sea. Sharper, more refined edges and slopes, and…older. He couldn't explain why, but they felt more ancient than anything in Istalis.

While Irmond enjoyed the view and the Nee looked at them like they were a couple annoying tourists (which was probably closer to the truth than anything), Wulf dug through his haversack for a few seconds, then found the pouch with the old Dr. Arnau's ashes. He stared at it for a few seconds, trying to understand what it meant to hold the ashes of someone who was still alive.

But then again, he'd made a promise to the old Arnau. He was supposed to live a little, too.

He shook out a little gray dust into the wind, then tucked the pouch away. It was about a quarter empty.

"Over there," the Nee said as Wulf put away the pouch. The old man wasn't looking. He was pointing farther down the path, where an enormous ledge protruded from the edge of the mountain. "That's where they come when they're looking for a wind-wielder to bond with."

Wulf inched to the edge of the outlook, then laid down on his stomach, just in case a powerful gust of wind blasted through and knocked them off. The ledge below—what was known as the bonding ledge—was a simple sheet of stone with a little snow and ice in the cracks.

There were three thrustwings on it.

Up close, the birds were massive. They had bodies the size of a horse, but their wings were six times as wide when stretched out. In general, they had the shape of a magpie, but were much, much larger, and instead of black and white feathers, they had the colouration of a sparrow.

"I can't…believe it's actually happening," Irmond said. "I'm going to have my own thrustwing?"

"If you can bond with one. Those guys are looking for a rider." Wulf shrugged. "There's still a chance to turn back."

"I can't. If you believe in me, if my family believes in me…then I have to."

Without a second of hesitation, Irmond shouldered his bow and set off down the path.

"He's only a Copper," the Nee said. "It won't work."

"I believe in him," Wulf replied.

"You're…only a Bronze."

Wulf cast the man a smile. "Yeah, but I've got a feeling. You're not an Ascendant at all, but you know these things too."

"Sure enough, son."

The process of a Ranger bonding to a thrustwing was much like the process of a Pilot forming a bond with an Oronith, but it happened much faster. Thrustwings were arcane beasts, but they weren't the same as a monster. They could touch the Field, and though they didn't start their lives with as much sentience as humans, they could gain it like spirits. If they got lucky, they could accidentally accumulate mana and Marks, and eventually, they would gain minds of their own.

But in the process, for those who were halfway there…it tended to be disorienting. They needed help to keep themselves stable, and in return, they could provide their flight services. Other Classes tried to bond with them, but it almost never worked (Wulf wouldn't discount it like the Academy would, but he also didn't have the time to try himself).

Something about most Rangers' wind aspect helped, but surely, a Ranger's greatly enhanced senses would afford them a much better ability to learn the ways of the thrustwing—what it was feeling, how tired it was, how it flew.

Of course, their Skill options always helped. The ability to bond with a thrustwing was enhanced by certain skill choices and upgrades later on, and Rangers often earned Skills that they could both use.

Though a single thrustwing wouldn't lift the Wraith, no matter how nimble the Wraith was, the ability to fly around, position yourself for enhanced arrow shots, and scout much farther than the eye could see was invaluable.

Irmond walked down the path, holding his hands out. He'd probably studied how the process worked in his classes, even if he didn't think he was able to do it yet.

He'd essentially be forming a Field Pact with the beast. He'd help regulate its mana and assist it, so it didn't lose its mind as it advanced. In return, it would allow him on its back and carry him.

If it didn't think Irmond was worth making a pact with, then Irmond was done for. If it saw the same potential that Wulf did, then Irmond would succeed.

But at least here, they knew that any bird that travelled this far from its nest was looking for someone to bond with.

Wulf held his breath as Irmond approached the bonding ledge. He held out his hand, and a thrustwing stepped forward.