Fate Alchemist - A Regression Academy LitRPG

Wulf hadn't prepared for this conversation, but he'd also done nothing wrong. Not really. He pulled on his coat with his rank badge, making sure the Middle-Iron badge was presented front and clear.

"I have many questions," Dr. Azanthius said. "But first, Lord Umoch."

The shadowy man stepped forward, approaching the infirmary bed, his coat and cloak swaying behind him like they were underwater. He looked down at Wulf's rank badge, narrowed his eyes, then scoffed and looked back at Wulf's face. "I hear your team has accomplished…wonders, as well."

Most other students were Low-, Middle-, or High-Bronze now. There were a few at Iron, but most of them had used mana-water for a temporary boost in advancement speed. It'd come back to bite them later.

"Thank you," Wulf said with a grin. It felt a little forced, but he had to. His mood wasn't exactly stellar, and he needed to pick Irmond and Seith's brains about what happened to Mantri. But the best way to deal with people like Umoch was to give them the exact opposite reaction than the one they wanted.

"You have succeeded. Azanthius is making me do this, really, but yes, I must concede." He shook his head, then looked at the headmaster. "Happy, Ellus?"

Dr. Arnau was beaming and nodding furiously, and Wulf almost laughed at the sight. Azanthius only said, "Quite."

"Tsch, gloat all you want," Umoch grumbled. "I—"

"I want to make a Field Pact," Wulf declared. "My lord."

"What?" Umoch spun back to face Wulf. "How dare you try to make a—"

"Swear on the Field that you will leave us alone," Wulf insisted, "and you won't get in the way of our progress. Swear that you'll help humanity when called upon, to the best of your ability. We'll need Orichalcums in time."

"No. I'll look after my family's interests, however that manifests."

"And I swear that, if you do that, I will keep this debacle secret. All of it. Your son, he betrayals, everything. How you've threatened us and tried to get the best Oronith team removed from the academy for your pride. Not another word from me if you swear to do your part."

Wulf had his priorities in order. Victory was more important than his pride, no matter how much he might want to spread the word.

"Are you threatening me?" Umoch raised his hand, and a shadowy rune circle swirled around his wrist. "You dare threaten an Orichalcum?"

"I am, kinda, yeah," Wulf said. He glanced around the infirmary. There were plenty of people watching, as well as Azanthius, who'd drawn much closer. He looked ready to intercept if Umoch actually did attack. "Accept my terms, and it'll look like nothing happened. Don't accept, and be ruined. It's your choice."

"I…accept," Umoch breathed. The Field would keep him to it—he wouldn't be able to break the pact, or weasel his way out of it, if his intent was to break it. He spun around, flicking his cloak, then marched to the door. "So long. If you see me again, consider yourself blessed."

"You will come if called upon," Azanthius reminded him, but he was already marching away.

"Marvellous work," Dr. Arnau said. "I don't suppose we'll be seeing much of him around after that."

"I hope not," Wulf replied.

"Now," Azanthius said, stepping forward. "I have some questions of my own, my boy, and you'd best answer them to the best of your ability." He lowered his voice, glancing around. "You've proven yourself, that much is certain. I won't kick you out yet, but tell us: why is your aspect poison? Did you make a mistake?"

Wulf chuckled, then looked at Arnau. "I think you already know. Since you interrogated me on the Sinta Velia, probably. Maybe." Her face was unreadable, except for a faint wisp of curiosity.

"You're an Alchemist," Dr. Arnau muttered. "The Alchemist."

"That's a strong phrase," Wulf replied. "I'm responsible for a lot, but I didn't make the reema for the Lions."

"No, I suppose not," Azanthius said. He inhaled slowly. "I will keep this a secret for now, but in time, the Orichalcums will find out. I do not know what they will do when they learn you're an Alchemist. Understood?"

"I understand," Wulf said. "I'll be ready."

"Was this your big secret?" Azanthius whispered. "I know you were hiding something from me. What is stopping you from telling me everything? How did an Alchemist get so strong?"

"I dunno," Wulf said. "I'm just doing what I can, sir."

Azanthius sighed. "When you're ready to tell me, I am ready to listen with an open mind. No matter what it is."

People said that. It didn't always go like that. He would wait until he'd made himself invaluable before revealing everything. There was no other way.

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"No matter the case," Dr. McGemmild said, "you have passed your delving class for this year—I will void your crew's final exam. And we owe you a great deal of gratitude for protecting the dungeon's core. You bought us enough time, and cleared out enough fiends, that our crews could clean up the rest. As of now, the city is safe."

"We did what we could," Wulf replied. "Though I do wonder why you didn't send in a crew sooner to clear up the mess."

"We didn't know how far it had spread," Azanthius said quickly. "And we took the risk. We will need trained crews in the coming years, and powerful crews, and this is the only way. Because of you, we didn't lose any potential crews."

"I…see." Wulf wasn't entirely convinced, but there was nothing he could do about it at the moment.

"Until then," Azanthius said, "Good luck on your finals, and rest. I know you four will do well. There hasn't been a pen-and-paper test you've struggled with so far."

~ ~ ~

Mantri had been left in the care of Dr. Tallari. Wulf went to visit immediately. Dr. Azanthius gave him a permission slip to enter the codex workshop, which he showed to the guards, and entered. It was a chamber beneath the hangar, and though dimly lit, it was much like the codex room in the library of Istalis. High ceiling, ancient walls, with shelves upon shelves of crystals. At the very center, a crystal containing a petrified Messenger.

Wulf hated the sight, but at the moment, Mantri wasn't at risk of becoming like that. It was Mantri who was on the brink of death, not Wulf.

Dr. Tallari stood near the edge of the room, wearing a lab coat and an apron. Glass goggles clung to his head, and he stroked his neatly trimmed beard. "Good morning, Mr. Hrothen. This is your Messenger?"

Wulf ran over to the table. There was a soft cat bed atop it, and Mantri lay curled in the center. The cat was gaunt and thin, and a tight bandage had been wrapped around his midsection, highlighting how truly skinny cats were with their fur compacted. Wulf grimaced.

"You seem to have quite the connection to your Messenger," Dr. Tallari said. "Or so I've been told."

"You…could say that. Is he going to be alright?"

"Best thing for him would be to return to the Field, where he would heal properly, but he won't have the strength to make that jump at the moment. He's on the brink of life and death. You say a demon…demon-spirit hit him with some sort of attack?"

"He saved me," Wulf replied.

"I've never heard of a Messenger saving someone…"

Wulf shrugged. "Is there anything I can do to help?"

"Watch, wait. Observe and hope, Mr. Hrothen. Do you trust your Messenger?"

"Yeah."

"Then trust him to pull through."

~ ~ ~

After the semester was over, Wulf met with Athllas on the Academy's outer wall. A scheduled meeting, of course. Athllas wanted to talk to him.

"Mantri's still recovering?" Athllas asked, leaning on one of the merlons.

"Hasn't woken up yet," Wulf confirmed. "Hasn't died yet. Dr. Tallari's keeping him stable as best we can."

"I'm sorry."

"You did everything you were asked," Wulf replied. "There's nothing to be sorry about."

"Indeed…" Athllas shook his head. "I came to make you an offer. I'm looking for some more guards, and I was wondering if you were interested in a stable, comfortable, highly-ranked posting at the royal palace. Limited fighting, though you and your crew would be called on to pilot Oroniths if needed."

Wulf didn't have to think long. "Apologies, your majesty, but I can't accept that. Maybe a while ago, I would've, but there's work that needs to be done. The demons aren't going to stop coming unless we make them."

He looked out over the city, then over to the wall. It was almost all the way around the city now, protecting both sides of the strait, but still ended when it reached the water. They still hadn't protected the harbour yet.

"How'd your negotiations with the dark elves go?" Wulf asked.

"I took a page out of your book," Athllas said.

"Uh oh."

"I threatened them and lied a little. I said Varl helped the demons, and that if they didn't concede to our terms and sign the pact, we would spread the word about how an important family had helped the demons. They begrudgingly accepted."

"If it works…"

"It didn't feel good."

"It'll feel worse to get destroyed by demons."

"I suppose. But when this is all done, when we win, I'm not using the same strategies again."

Wulf shrugged. "That's up to you. I don't plan on losing my humanity either." After a short pause, he asked, "Did you get your guard back? The one, we, uh, dismissed?"

"He was a little miffed, but yes, he's back in my service." Athllas covered his mouth and chuckled softly. "Where are you four off to, then? We've got all summer break, and I suppose you'll be back for the next semester?"

"Since we're Irons, now, we can take summer dispatch missions with our Oronith," Wulf said. "We'll be heading north first, up the coast. Sounds like they need some help with a bunch of fiends in Yisaea. Until we figure out how to stop the demons for good, we'll do the best we can, and keep getting stronger along the way. And yes, when we're back, we'll be returning to school."

"I understand. Best of luck, Wulf."

"Good luck to you too, Athllas."

~ ~ ~

Gom Huteyn wasn't pleased about the news, but it confirmed what he already knew. The disturbances were out there, causing problems, and getting stronger.

The ghirrar favoured his conquest when this planet passed through his cloud of spheres, but if the threads of the Great Way were tangling, he had no idea whether his conquest was still favoured. Fate was clouded at the moment.

"If Pyek failed, then…what shall we do?" Gom Lahten, the spirit who took Pyek's position, asked. "How should we proceed? Shall we still destroy Centralis? If I mass a horde of fiends, we still might annihilate the city."

There was no turning back now. The city was their target, and it had to be destroyed. But he could control his impulses, he could ensure that his commanders did not succumb to their own missions and impulses. "Continue as normal. Weaken them. Once Centralis is alone, then the siege may begin."

He paused, then turned away from his balcony and marched back inside his sphere. "And begin work on the siege-gate."

"Yes, Khinna."

He marched down his hallway, inhaling slowly, and trying once more to sense the ghirrar.

They were there, but the future was clouded. His conquest wasn't guaranteed.

It just meant he needed to work harder.

~ ~ ~

The Black Pilgrim perched on the rooftops of Centralis City, watching Oroniths depart for their summer dispatches. He waited anxiously, desperate to lay eyes on Him once more.

When the green Oronith departed, he leaned forward, watching.

They accepted him now, but that wasn't the way of the Academy. This, the Black Pilgrim knew—he once followed the ways of the Academy. They'd shun him and banish him from their halls.

And when that happened, he would need followers.

The Black Pilgrim had spread the word. Now, it was time to build something for Him.