Fate Alchemist - A Regression Academy LitRPG

Before the fiend reached Emerald vanguard, a circle of glowing blue runes appeared in the sky above it. Raindrops condensed into a wave, then washed down onto the fiend's head, smashing it to the side. From the other direction, a swipe of ruby steel flashed through the air.

Scarlethorn's sword flashed, cleaving through the fiend's leg and severing it in a single blow.

The red Oronith emerged from between two buildings, cutting off the fiend from one direction.

From the other direction, the Fist of Bellar approached, holding its arms up, and smashed both arms down at the same time. It stuck the fiend atop the head. The impact thrust the fiend down into the ground.

A third Academy Oronith (from the Istalis Academy) approached from behind, clad in plain deepstone armour, but wielding magic circles and controlling the rainwater.

Wulf ran to the brink of the shattered visor. Kalee, Seith, and Irmond climbed through the hatch behind, then ran to the brink as well and stood beside him.

Emerald Vanguard didn't move, aside from swaying gently in the wind. But the battle was all but won. The three other Oroniths encircled the fiend. Where a set of human pilots might have tried to run, maybe tried to plow through the inactive Emerald Vanguard, the Fiend hobbled up and turned to face Scarlethorn, the shiniest and brightest of its foes.

The Fist of Bellar grabbed the Fiend by its horns and threw it down to the ground, where it writhed for a second—until Scarlethorn slashed its head off with a heavy blow. Steaming black blood splattered across the ground like tar.

Wulf, still breathing hard, his heart pounding, fell to his knees. "We did it. They're gone."

But there were still the small (human-sized) demons to clean up, and the Academy could handle it for the most part. Any moment, they'd start scrambling up the unmoving Emerald Vanguard's sides.

"If we close up the hatch, they'll just come through the visor," Kalee said, no doubt seeing the same problem he was.

"Check your parchments," he said, looking down at his own. His Class didn't gain power from combat, so advancing a tier was out of the question, but a simple message still scrawled across:

[Grand Mark earned.]

When he concentrated on it the same as he would with other Marks, nothing happened. It didn't show him anything.

"Most impressive," came a voice from behind. Slightly high-pitched. Almost the exact same as the Messenger who had spoken to Wulf before sending him back in time.

All four of them spun around. Two small cats prowled across the cockpit toward them. One, a black cat, aimed straight for Wulf, and the other, white, aimed for Kalee. Both had vibrant green eyes, and...Wulf couldn't tell whether it was the same one who'd spoken to him at the end of the world or not.

"Wulf of Carolaign," it said. "You have achieved a great feat in resonance with your soul's desires. For that, I award you a Grand Mark."

The white cat said the exact same thing to Kalee—just with her name: "Kalee of Threnia."

"Woah…" Irmond breathed.

"How come we don't get any?" Seith muttered.

"We still got loads of mana," Irmond whispered back to Seith. "I made it to High-Wood and got a regular Mark, too."

"Guess these two did most of the heavy lifting," Seith said.

In unison, both cats placed their paws on Wulf and Kalee's bracer's respectively. The ink shifted. Now, Wulf's bracer read:

[Grand Mark achieved: Wild Spirit]

By earning a Grand Mark, all your previous Marks have been condensed into one: [Alchemist's Beginning]

[Wild Spirit] You have kept your promises, even if it meant disobeying orders, and defeated two great Field-less beasts. Your defense of a city will not go unnoticed. All abilities that create Primal Material are more efficient, and you can shape Primal Material with your hands. Holding Primal Material will not harm you.

Wulf couldn't muster the strength to smile yet, but he still gave a satisfied nod.

"Get anything good?" he whispered to Kalee. "If you wanna share, of course."

She dipped her head. "Yeah. I can direct gravity into different shapes, now…instead of just increasing it."

The two Messengers backed away, but Wulf bent down in front of the black cat. It had the same patch of white fur on its chest as the Messenger from his previous life. "Hey, cat," Wulf said. "Have you…seen me before?"

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"I have been watching you all nineteen years," the cat said. It stopped and turned to look at him. "I am your assigned Messenger, Wulf of Carolaign, but you finally bent the Field enough to warrant a visit."

Only nineteen years. It didn't remember Wulf's last life.

"Do you…have a name?" he asked.

"Do you expect to see me again?"

"Something tells me I will, yeah." Wulf chuckled.

"Confident." The cat turned away once more. "I am Mantri, but it is not common to see a Messenger more than once in your life. Especially for someone of your birth circumstances, Wulf of Carolaign."

It followed the white cat back to the cockpit's hatch, and they both pranced out the slightly open crack, before disappearing altogether.

"Odd," Wulf whispered, specifically glancing at Kalee. She looked to be thinking, too. Hopefully about the same things.

"Wulf…" Irmond warned. "I know you kinda just defeated two giant demon things, but…like, we've got a problem." He had run back to the edge of the cockpit and peered over the visor's drop-off.

Wulf ran over to join him. Now, a cluster of about twenty small demons had started scampering up the legs of Emerald Vanguard. They made it to the Oronith's chest as Wulf watched.

"Fast little buggers," he grumbled, then reached into his haversack. He didn't have much to fight with at human scale, except the simulated hammer for use with the golem. It was massive without a seven-foot golem to help hold it, and even with his enhanced strength, he struggled to lift it off the ground.

Hammer's not going to be my final weapon, he thought. But it's the best I've got for now.

"Now would be a good time to drink your potions," he said. "Seith? You and me, we're the front lines. Irmond and Kalee are our squishies, and we can't let the demons reach them. Got it? We can deal a little damage, but we need to keep their attention. Demons kill. That's what their minds tell them to do. They get energy from your suffering, so they won't make it pleasant. You'll get no mercy from them."

"They get…energy?" Irmond whispered, "from hurting us?"

"They feed off it," Kalee said bitterly. "It doesn't keep them alive like food, but they seem to gain strength from it."

"I don't want to know how you two know this," Seith said.

"No time. Do you trust us or not?" Wulf asked.

"I trust you two," she said. "Irmond, not so much."

"Hey!" he exclaimed. "I'll stick them full of arrows. Bet I can kill more of them than you."

"I'll take you up on it. Loser buys drinks?"

"Guys…" Wulf warned. "Focus."

"You got it," Irmond said—both in response to Wulf and Seith.

The first leathery red fingers poked over the edge of the cockpit visor glass, and a demon's head poked up. Kalee, Irmond, and Seith all drank a Yeti's Might potion. Strength flooded his veins from his Mark, rejuvenating him and restoring his will.

With the aura it created, he fuelled the constructs Kalee and Seith had made for him, absorbing as much of it into the mana storage devices, then pulled it out into his body. Blue lightning flooded his veins and flowed to his storage core. There was a slight tingle of pain, but now that he'd gotten used to it…it was more calming than anything. Now, he had more mana to fight with.

He held out his hand and judged the approaching demons. The first one's head poked up, revealing a tortured, remotely humanoid visage. It was just human enough to stir anxiety and fear in his stomach, which demons thrived on.

The Field analyzed it as [Demon – Middle-Coal equivalent]. Not ideal, but he could deal with that.

He lunged forward, and, with his increased strength, slammed his hammer down on the demon's fingers. It moaned, then released its grip and plummeted backward. Kalee, with her mana supply renewed, tugged the demon down with a spell Skill.

There was no way it was surviving a fall like that. That left fourteen others. One climbed up beside him, holding a crude basalt club, and it swung at his head. Seith intercepted it with her wrist-blade constructs, and Irmond blasted an enchanted arrow through its neck. It toppled off sideways.

But the demons were crawling up all across the visor.

"Back up!" Wulf called. "I have an idea! Let them all climb up!"

He pulled out his splatter potion from his haversack, and, gripping it by its neck, held it up. The moment all fourteen of the demons found their footing, clustered up, Wulf called, "Kalee! Increase the gravity at their middle. Keep them all in place!"

She triggered a spell, and a runic circle lit up on the ground between all the demons, holding them still.

Wulf swung his splatter potion in an arc, sloshing out the entire potion in a wave that'd wash over all the demons. Their skin steamed, and they slowed down, but more importantly, it registered as a potion effect.

His strength tripled, and his hammer felt as light—if not lighter—than it had in his last life. With a shout, he charged forward, smashing demons with a hammer and flinging them into the walls of the cockpit or back out into the open air. Whatever he didn't catch, Seith dealt with. She distracted them before they could reach the back line.

Which made them perfect targets for Irmond's arrows and Kalee's spells. She slammed them into the ground or immobilized them, or less often, drove a wedge of uneven gravitation through their center, ripping them to shreds.

The demons wielded close-range weapons like axes, clubs, spears, and rarely, a crude sword—almost always made of obsidian. The weapons were fragile, but it didn't matter when they got close enough. They were sharp. An axe made a slice down Wulf's leg, and another would've taken his wrist off if he hadn't used [Arm of the Alchemist] to whip the remains of his splatter potion off the floor and bat the demon's arm away.

They reached the last demon. Seith was doubled over at the edge of the cockpit, bleeding blue blood from a gash on her forehead and panting, Irmond was nearly out of arrows, and Wulf's abilities were guttering out. Kalee looked to be out of mana, too. She raised her hands.

The last demon was about to get through.

Wulf reached into his haversack and withdrew his dart of Primal Material. Drawing on his newest Mark, he ran his fingers down the dart's tip, smoothing it into a finer point with ease, then threw it into the back of the demon's head.

It bit into the beast's skull and slid a few inches in, eating away at the fluids within. After a second, the skull burst apart in a gorey explosion of black liquid, and the demon dropped to the floor, unmoving. The rest of his dart, having absorbed aspects of the demon's matter, crumbled into a fine white dust.

But it didn't matter. He looked up at the others, panting, then sighed. "I think that's it." He ran to the edge of the visor and peered over. The rest of the small demons were running into the city, but the three other Oroniths plowed through them, stomping them and routing their hordes before they could hurt the civilians.

"We did it?" Kalee whispered.

"Yeah," Wulf replied. "I think we did."