Fate Alchemist - A Regression Academy LitRPG

Wulf sat down in the arena change rooms and looked at his bracer. It now displayed a list of skills for optional upgrades.

Skill Upgrade Available

[By Your Will]

[Arm of the Alchemist]

[Bastion]

[Chaotic Alteration]

[Deadline]

[Slither]

Of the skills that needed upgrades, [By Your Will] was the best candidate. He was getting decent use out of it, but he'd had it since he came back. It needed a touch of something new to match his new abilities.

He isolated the Skill in his mind to select it, then, concentrating his will, told the Field to enhance it. There was a slight tingle up his spine, which he hadn't felt before when upgrading a Skill.

The words on his bracer shifted, and they displayed the new ability:

[By Your Will] All potions made by your hand have a random main effect and an additional poison effect regardless of the ingredients, but the main effect's strength will be one tier higher than your rank would normally produce. The synergy of main effect and side effect will increase as the quality of the ingredients increases.

It wasn't a massive upgrade, not at first. But the more Wulf looked? It guaranteed that he'd get two effects on every potion. If he randomly created a poisonous main effect, it would also provide a poisonous side effect, becoming stronger.

The synergy of the effects? He'd have to experiment with what that meant. How could poison synergize with strength or speed?

But at least it didn't decrease his chances of creating a poisonous potion with more powerful ingredients, and it didn't force him to use transmutation slips to determine the result of a potion.

Lastly, the guarantee of two effects also guaranteed that potions would be a better source of essences, especially chaos.

Then came enhancing his Marks. With a push of intent, he upgraded [Wild Spirit], his first Mark, because he hadn't enhanced it in a while, and it couldn't hurt.

Then he stood up. He hadn't really even gotten sweaty from the past fight, but he brushed the dust off his coat's shoulders, then set off. There were a few students in the hallway outside, waiting for him. The guild kids scattered at the sight, but the ones without badges remained. There were a few smiles and nods of approval.

It was a step in the right direction. He'd take it.

He walked off down the hall, nodding back at anyone who gestured at him, before taking off at a run and returning to the hangar. There was nothing else to do, and he didn't feel like hanging around the arena, so he may as well keep working.

Since he was partially stuck on the codex, he started work on a new bracer to clear his mind. Starting with a chunk of green emerald, he set it down on their worktable. The table sat beneath Wraith's giant legs, with the beast's shadow looming over him. He lit a candle to see better.

The chunk was big enough to carve into an entire vambrace, so that was what he did. But carving wasn't the right word. What he was doing wasn't carving.

He'd created a corrosive potion a few days back for exactly this purpose, and he poured it over the outside of the stone, then agitated it with some extra chaos to help it seep into all the pores.

As the potion seeped through the chunk of stone, it became malleable and soft, threatening to disintegrate, but it was too spread out to completely destroy the stone. The description of the potion specifically said, "Softens and decreases the durability of any substance it touches."

Wulf put on a pair of heavy work gloves he'd borrowed from Dr. Blyke, which each had an enchantment on them. Something about being resistant to solvents. He was pretty sure that, with his winnings from the arena fight, he'd be able to pay off any damage he did to the gloves and buy a replacement.

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He shaped the chunk of emerald, hollowing out a core that would fit his arm, before shaping the outside.

But the substance itself was simply:

Golem Emerald (Low-Gold Quality)

A chunk of a giant golem's body, purified over centuries of formation.

It started at Low-Gold. If he just left it as a chunk of stone, that was all it would ever be. He needed it to register with the Field, both as a piece of armour and a transmitter for enchanted parchment.

He shaped the outside, smoothing and carving it into a thin but durable vambrace, like he was moulding it out of clay. He etched down the sides, giving it the appearance of armour, then sharpened the lines with a chunk of steelglass. There was nothing else quite as resistant to the effects of the potion as steelglass.

It wasn't done yet, though. Instead of clips, like on his leather bracer, he carved a thin channel to slot the enchanted parchment into, and another slot on the other side, so that the pressure of the paper would hold it in place and keep it flush with the surface of the bracer.

Then he gave it a pattern. He was good at repetitive tasks, even if it wasn't a beautiful painting. With the corner of his glass shard, he carved a scale-like pattern into the emerald. Once he'd covered the top ridge, he could feel it trying to resonate with the Field.

But it wasn't done yet.

He was tired. It'd been a long day, he hadn't slept well last night, and the knowledge that the Orichalcums were doing something behind the scenes didn't help. He was nowhere closer to finding that demon-spirit who was leading the attack on Centralis, and any moment, the demons could drag down another moon.

They only hadn't because they needed the world intact for a little longer. Wulf didn't even know why, and that bothered him the most.

He didn't have Mantri. He didn't even know how to advance to Gold.

And all he could do was craft objects and hope for the best.

He carved more scales with a greater intensity, digging slight ridges at their sides, and smoothing them. It wasn't just a stamp anymore, but a proper relief carving with varied depth. His jaw ached from how tight he was clenching it, and his teeth ground together, but still, he worked.

The sun had already set. Most of the other workers in the hangar left for the night, except for the janitors, and the candles went out. Wulf barely noticed.

By the time he'd finished his carvings, the sun was beginning to peek over the horizon, lighting the rooftops of Centralis with golden light. A spring breeze rolled into the hangar.

The vambrace was almost done.

He placed it upright, then slid it around his sleeve, ensuring that it fit. Already, the potion was leaking out and trying to weaken his shirt, but he ignored it and triggered [Deadline].

The solvent effect doubled, and a gust of wind would've been enough to destabilize the vambrace. It wasn't like clay anymore—more like raw dough. But he set it down on the table, using the wood to support it, and in seconds, the effect faded. Without [Deadline] it would've lasted a few more hours, being susceptible to damage, but now…

It was finished. The Field chimed, and a pulse of heavy resonance radiated off the vambrace, creating a physical wave of force and rattling his chest.

He turned to the vambrace, focussed on it, and assessed it with the Field:

Imbalanced Scales (Low-Ruby Quality)

A vambrace crafted by an alchemist on the razor's edge of exhaustion and clarity. It provides a delicate link to a slip of enchanted parchment, and its resonance with the Field provides instant updates from important Field prompts.

It improves the function of all enchanted parchment in a thirty food radius, increasing ink diffusion speed and accuracy of the Field's messages.

Additional effect: improves the wearer's ability to resist the impact of powerful strikes and stay upright after taking a powerful hit.

As soon as Wulf finished the vambraces, he slumped forward, resting his head on his forearms, and before he knew it, he was asleep.

~ ~ ~

When he woke up, he was back in his dorm. Judging by how low the sun was in the western sky, it was evening, and he'd missed an entire day of classes.

It didn't stress him out as much as he thought it would. He pulled off his blankets. They'd been tucked in neatly, and that seemed like Kalee's doing. He reminded himself to thank her later, then stood up, slid his feet into his boots, and approached the window.

The academy… he thought. He didn't know how to phrase it, even inside his own mind. He hadn't really had a chance to process what he'd learned by eavesdropping on Dr. Azanthius. As far as he knew, the Headmaster didn't know where he came from.

But the other Orichalcums were causing problems. They were restricting Alchemy knowledge, for whatever reason they had. It probably wasn't a good reason.

They were going to stand in his way. He couldn't stay here forever. The Academy was a leash, and though he still needed their resources and connections as long as he could get them, eventually, he was going to have to go off on his own and fix this himself.

As an Alchemist, the academy wasn't too fond of him, but from what he knew of the outer world, he was starting to build a following. People out there believed in him, right? He leaned on the windowsill.

But people failed. Of course he could trust his friends. He could rely on them, and he didn't have to do this alone. Of course he could let them get close. But he couldn't get to know everyone, and they couldn't get to know him.

He rubbed his forehead, unsure of what to do. But there were still a few people who he could ask.