Fate Alchemist - A Regression Academy LitRPG

The glass booth had only a few rows of seats, and they were sparsely occupied by the Istalis Academy faculty members in their mismatched robes and dresses and doublets. But all the Ascendants of the Centralis Academy were easy to pick out. They all wore matching white gambesons and violet cloaks. Rune-covered sashes ran from shoulder to hip, and though it might have been decorative, they still had to be expensive.

All of them had Gold or Ruby badges. Ruby being the second highest tier, one rank off the highest—Orichalchum.

And now, they were all staring at Wulf.

"Hey, Headmaster…" Wulf cleared his throat, suddenly aware of how many people were staring at him.

He'd been in the presence of powerful Ascendants before, but it was never with him as the center of attention, and once more…he once again felt like a nineteen-year-old student in the presence of his betters. His mind told him he was.

He quickly recovered, turned his face blank, and stepped forward. Headmaster Langold sat at the center of the booth, in the very front row, with the receptor of the voice-amplifying construct in front of him—a rune-covered crystal with a rope fastened to one end. He deactivated it.

"What is it, my boy?" Langold asked. He leaned to the side, where he must've seen Kalee standing behind, and said, "And Ms. Chipa."

He then motioned to the empty seats beside him. "Please, sit down."

He was probably being more gracious than usual because his superiors were in the room, which was exactly what Wulf needed. It'd look bad if Langold turned him down right away without even considering the proposal.

Wulf and Kalee both took their seats. For a second, Wulf remained silent, staring out through the angled panes of glass and watching the dueling Oroniths in the arena demonstrate their abilities.

Scarlethorn unleashed a few more pulses of arcane flame, then picked up its sword and lit the blade aflame. The arcane weapon conducted and amplified the fire, and it cut glowing gashes into the Fist of Bellar's armour. The Fist of Bellar, though, conjured lightning on its fists, and each punch came with a crack of thunder. The windows of the booth rattled.

"We…we both saw a Messenger, sir," Wulf said. That wasn't necessarily a lie at all. A Messenger had sent them both back in time. "They told us that there was going to be a demon attack soon."

Headmaster Langold stared forward. He blinked a few times, cleared his throat, then motioned for a man behind him. "Headmaster Azanthius?"

An elderly man with long white hair, with a Middle-Ruby rank badge, stood up. He was a few rows behind them, but he descended the stairs at the edge of the booth, then navigated over until he stood directly behind Langold. "Yes, Mr. Langold?"

Mister. Cold.

"You may wish to hear what these two have to say, sir," Langold said.

"Indeed, I heard their statement." Azanthius brushed out his gambeson. Unlike the others, his gambeson had golden embroidery all across it, and his vambrace was made of a pearlescent material that made Wulf's mind swim whenever he looked at it. It resonated in his perception, affecting all his senses.

A material too powerful for someone at Low-Coal to even comprehend properly.

"They're quaking," Azanthius said. "I can sense him quivering in his boots…and her tail is shuddering. I don't believe them."

"I'd think that they would be scared, given what they're doing," Langold replied. "Whether they were telling the truth or lying…you remember what it was like at their ages, yes?"

"Perhaps. I will trust your perception for the time-being. It has been two centuries since I was so young."

"Please, Mr. Hrothen," Langold said, "continue."

"We…we both had a Messenger come to us. It was during our…uh, detention with Thalin." Wulf straightened up. "They told us that there would be an attack on the second Secondday of Eighthmonth. The first wave of a new demon attack will return."

"The Field can tell the future to average students, now?" Azanthius said. "It has never once told the future to anyone but an Oracle, and certainly not through a Messenger."

Kalee provided, "Perhaps it was for an achievement? We noticed the monsters in the woods were growing more and more agitated."

"Messengers only award the most powerful Marks for the most meaningful achievements," said Azanthius. "And, most importantly, achievements that align with your purpose and your souls' desires. No one under Iron-Tier has ever been visited by a Messenger."

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That hadn't been true in the future. Wulf had known a few Bronzes who earned a Messenger-delivered Mark, but they were few and far between.

"To tell the truth," Azanthius said, "I don't believe you. I cannot. But I do not understand the motive for a lie."

"If demons destroyed the world, the Field would have just as much to lose," Langold suggested. "It is sustained by the life and very existence of our planet."

"Then it could tell an Oracle."

"Sir," Wulf said, "I cannot explain why it happened, but it is true. And I don't see why the Field would lie." Knowing full well it wouldn't work, he added, "I could make a Field pact to you. I could swear it." It'd make him seem more genuine.

"Pacts do not work like that," Azanthius said. "You can sway the truth many ways, and a pact only requires that you believe in yourself, not on empirical measures."

"But—"

"I am sorry, Hrothen." Azanthius folded his hands. "I am sure you believe that this is necessary. I have been the headmaster of the Centralis Academy for nearly fifteen years now, and I have met many students. You seem like a good one, but even the best can be manipulated and deluded, or blinded by emotion."

"Sir, we both saw it," Kalee provided.

"And two can be wrong." Azantius shook his head. "If I am wrong, I will freely admit it. But to deploy Oroniths is a great expense, not only of mana and maintenance, but for political capital. They are our grandest creations, the pinnacle of human and human-like achievement. They must be used for impressive measures, lest our people question their purpose: why craft stone giants into Oroniths, why levy taxes and build academies, why keep our projects secret and work the mines when all we plan to do with our Oroniths is march them around on the whims of a boy? Better to keep them out of sight, out of mind."

Wulf sighed. "Sir, what if we're right?"

"I can ask many what ifs. There is the possibility of a demon attack every day. You have learned this now, haven't you?"

"Yes."

Langold rubbed his forehead. "If it sways you in any way, Headmaster Azanthius, these two are currently shaping up to be our second and third best students, right behind Umoch's boy."

"It wouldn't make a difference to me if Umoch the Elder said it, either," Azanthius said. "I care about the Oroniths, and the Oroniths are my utmost concern."

Wulf tilted his chin up toward the arena, where the two Oroniths brawled, demonstrating their power and techniques to the lower-tier students. Chunks of stone and damaged armour lay scattered about the arena, and the vibrations had to be heard for miles. "That's not a waste?"

"To inspire future generations of crews?" Azanthius shook his head. "It is not. Nevermind that everyone present today is an Ascendant. If they returned to a city and told tales of what they saw here in this arena, the average man's mind would scarcely comprehend what he was hearing."

Wulf shook his head. Back in Carolaign, they had heard stories of the enormous stone giants that would walk by once in a lifetime. He hadn't believed them, either, and certainly not that the Oroniths would be as large as they were. Unfortunately, Azanthius was right.

"I appreciate your earnesty," Langold said. "But Azanthius' word is final. We will not send the Oroniths."

Wulf had expected this reaction, but he didn't like it any more now than in his imagination. He dipped his head respectfully and walked toward the door, though he was sure he was scowling the whole way. Kalee kept a straight face, and walked with such complete grace that Wulf didn't think he'd be able to compete.

She left the booth before him. He stopped at the doorway, though, holding it open to the rushing wind, booms, and cheering of outside.

A vision of the burning world flashed through his mind. He saw himself running through flames, and he remembered cutting through hordes of demons…and, through other men, too. A burst of desperation overtook him, his throat tightened, and he couldn't not speak.

"Dr. Azanthius? Dr. Langold?" Wulf asked. "Have you ever killed anyone?"

Both men turned to look at Wulf. Langold blinked in confusion, and Azanthius regarded him with utmost curiosity.

"I haven't, my boy," Langold said.

"Neither have I," Dr. Azanthius said. "But I don't imagine it's pleasant, and…I would expect a farmboy like you to have had a few skirmishes with bandits, yes."

"Yeah," Wulf said. He opened his mouth, then shut it again, then after a few seconds, said, "There are moments when you have to make hard choices. You know that something will stick in your mind forever, but you love what's behind you more than yourself and your own dignity. You think this little golden age will last forever, but dark days are coming. Soon, everyone will have to make choices they—"

"You are dismissed," Azanthius said quickly. "If you leave now, I will hold no resentment for you, and I will look past this encounter in all future discussions. Do you understand?"

Wulf shook his head in frustration, then said, "Good afternoon," and stepped out. He let the door slam behind him.

~ ~ ~

Wulf met Kalee, Irmond, and Seith out in front of the arena. Crowds of departing students rushed past on either side, either heading toward the mess hall or other buildings to spend the rest of the day.

Wulf leaned against a lantern-post, head slumped forward, arms crossed. "I know we didn't have high hopes, but…"

"Frustrating," Kalee said. "I know." She approached slowly, then put a gentle hand on his shoulder. "Are you alright?"

"I'll be fine." He shook his head.

"If you need to talk…"

"Thank you, but…we have bigger concerns than my feelings. We have a couple days until the Ninth." He inhaled slowly. "Last chance to back out. We could be in enormous trouble, and if this doesn't work…we could be expelled." He shut his eyes. "There is a chance all of you could die. There's a chance I could."

"We're in," they blurted out quickly.

"We gave you our word once," Kalee said. "I don't think anyone wants to go back on it."

"Then…I need to start preparing potions and a dream socket. We have an Oronith to steal."