Fate Alchemist - A Regression Academy LitRPG

For the moment, only Headmaster Azanthius and a few others knew Wulf was an Alchemist. He couldn't reveal it to everyone just yet.

That meant, before his arena fight, he had to use his potions in privacy. While he was supposed to be preparing his golem (which, technically, he still had done) he drank strength and durability potions.

There was a practical limit to how many potions you could drink. An Iron's stomach was still a regular stomach, and at a certain point, your body became full. But he wasn't going to reach that point. Potions dumped a certain amount of arcane matter into your body, and if you drank too much, that power would overwhelm and kill you.

What Wulf really needed was for Irmond to complete his task. Irmond wasn't in the audience, but he'd agreed to help. There was, admittedly, a little bit of defacing Academy property involved. As the previous fight was wrapping up, he looked out a viewing window into the arena, staring up at the roof and the skylight above. Rain pattered on it, streaking down the sides and catching at the edges.

It was the perfect day for what he was about to do.

He started with three Middle-Gold strength potions that he'd crafted over the past few weeks, and he ingested them in their entirety. Then, he used a potion that had ended up with both effects—strength and durability.

Durability was an interesting potion effect. Most Pilots got it through Marks, but Wulf hadn't gotten much. At least, not up until now—but this was going to be through the assistance of equipment, not a Mark.

After drinking four potions, his stomach was churning. Pulses of blue energy speared out through his body. They were still invisible to his eyes, but it was his mental perception—the same way he envisioned his cores—that picked up on them.

A few of the lances of energy were painful, especially when they came in contact with one of his cores. He'd already consumed more than recommended for his tier.

But one more wasn't going to kill him.

He consumed one more pure durability potion, his mind was swimming. It took effort to look straight, let alone walk in a straight line. He was going to be sluggish, but he had to hope that the raw power it gave him was enough to end the fight. When all was said and done, all he needed was a single good hit.

Then he stepped inside his golem. He used some of his aura to activate the half-finished potion he'd dumped over its head, but it was hardly enough to consume the entirety of the aura. It was possibly the strongest aura he'd created yet.

He closed the golem up around him, then walked out of the changerooms to the waiting hallway beyond, where a few attendants were waiting for him. The non-Ascendants motioned to the arena and said, "You're up. Go."

Wulf walked through the gates and out into the arena, where his opponent already stood.

She was another Pilot in a heavy gray golem. It had almost no carvings on its outside, opting for a rough, rocky design, with a single glowing eye-slit to look out of.

Vae Kella made the introductions for everyone, but Wulf barely paid attention. He only barely noticed that his opponent's name was Karol.

He braced himself. He needed to take a few hits, and judging by how she'd fought before, she was going to hit him exactly as he needed.

He whispered, "Sorry, golem…this is going to make a mess."

As soon as the fight started, he made an effort to charge forward, throwing a punch at Karol's head. As expected, she ducked down. She didn't wield any weapons, opting instead to brawl with her fists. Wulf could've used his scissors, but he needed her to hit him.

She pummelled his gut with a few direct punches. His golem cracked, and a chunk flew off to the side, but it didn't do nearly as much damage as it should have. His body below was completely unharmed by the impacts, which should have at least knocked the wind out of his lungs. Durability helped in that regard.

He countered, throwing a few more punches that felt slow in his mind. One collided with her shoulder, dislodging a plate and throwing out a puff of stone.

And then she struck him across the back. It was the first step of her favoured attack pattern.

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Wulf pretended it hurt more than it did, and he staggered into her next strike, then the next, then the next.

Then she performed a flashy uppercut. It connected with his chest and flung his golem upward, sending it racing toward the ceiling. She struck with enough force to launch Wulf off his feet, and she bolstered it with a Skill, infusing it with even more power. He lifted up, rising and rising through the air.

Most importantly, he did nothing to stop it.

As he raced up toward the hanging mana-light apparatus, a dish supporting numerous blindingly bright mana-lights, he whispered, "Come on, Irmond. Now." He was reaching the peak of his arc. Soon, it'd be too late.

Then the central pane of the skylight cracked and shattered. Rain rushed through, pouring down in a concentrated stream. It struck the mana-light dish right as Wulf reached the peak of his arc. He was only a few feet away.

The water came in contact with a supply of herbs and weak transmuted salts he'd snuck up there in the days before. It wasn't going to be strong, but for what he planned, it didn't need to be.

The water droplets dissolved the salts and infused the herbs, and he flooded them with his aura, activating them into a weak potion. No one would notice it—it'd probably end up as a Low-Wood potion.

As the droplets rained down on the audience, catching hundreds of students, [Bastion] activated.

Wulf came plummeting down to the arena floor. He landed in an explosion of sand and dust, completely unharmed—unlike all of Karol's previous victims.

The crowd cheered uncertainly, and she approached. "They said you were unbeatable!" she said. "They said you would prevail, no matter the odds. But I say your luck has…run…out…"

Wulf pushed himself up as she trailed off, then turned to face her. He brushed off his shoulder. His golem was cracking, and a lot of the potion had seeped out with the impact. Wulf let it deactivate, and instead, he stepped out.

"Oh," she whispered.

He sprinted toward her, leveraging his new strength. He crossed the arena in a flash, air booming behind him, even with his foggy mind, and struck her golem in the chest. The stone exploded around the impact point, but his bare knuckles felt nothing.

He reached in and pulled Karol out, then threw her to the ground. Panting, she crawled away.

"Yield," Wulf said. "I don't want to hit you without your golem."

That'd probably kill a regular Silver, in his state. But he was running out of time. The weak potion effects he'd hit the crowd with were going to wear off, and he still needed to activate the storage constructs with the last of his aura.

"Yes!" Karol shouted. "I yield!"

As soon as she spoke, Wulf turned his back, gathered up his golem, then ran back to the changerooms.

The crowd was silent, but it also wasn't the first time Wulf had left an arena fight quickly. Hopefully, they wouldn't think anything of it.

He raced into the changerooms, then sat down on a bench and pulled out the Star Hearts. First, he funnelled his aura into them, and the three activated at once, storing mana that hadn't been Wulf's in the first place.

As soon as they had some mana inside them, he drew it back out, pumping it into his storage core, and activating the conditions for the devices' effects.

It didn't lock his strength, but it set the bonus he'd get from them eventually at an incredibly high level. Twice of what he'd just experienced.

A few seconds after he'd withdrawn the mana into his storage core, the potion effects on the crowd wore off. Admittedly, there was a chance he'd poisoned some of them. There were non-Ascendants out there. But there was no chance that a Low-Wood potion would kill anyone. The janitors just might have some vomit to clean up…

Wulf winced. He'd taken a massive risk.

But if he was going to save the world? He was going to need a few more risks like that.

As soon as he had his golem stored inside the storage pendant and his own potions wore off, he walked out of the changerooms. His body was processing the arcane matter of the potions, and he didn't feel as out of it as he just did.

The moment he stepped out of the changerooms, someone tapped his shoulder—with a prosthetic stone hand.

Wulf whirled toward the person. Athllas.

"Hey," Wulf whispered, glancing around. No one else was in the hallways outside the changerooms, so if it was important, no one would overhear. "What is it?"

"We have a…slight problem," Athllas said softly, his voice almost drowned out by the roar of the crowd outside. He still wore an academy uniform, and technically, he was enrolled in the academy still, until he finished his studies. But Wulf knew he was still taking interest in Centralis' affairs.

"Are you in trouble? Or are the dark elves causing problems again?"

Athllas shook his head. "Nothing of the sort. We're having problems building the wall out in the sea."

"I thought we fixed that with the stone from the dark elves."

"We did. Fix one problem. We've laid a foundation, but we're having problems laying grout and stacking it high underwater, and we can't just drain the harbour to do what we need."

Wulf grimaced. "So the wall's never going to get finished?"

"Not at this rate. Do you think there's anything…you could do? Any substances you know of that harden in water, or underwater? Anything that your alchemy could do?" When he said alchemy, he dropped his voice to a low whisper.

"Maybe." Wulf pursed his lips. He couldn't think of anything off the top of his head. "I'll consult my books—and your father's—and I'll see what we can accomplish."