Fate Alchemist - A Regression Academy LitRPG

Wulf stared at his bracer for a few seconds, waiting for the options to scroll down across the sheet. But there was no need to select his new ability while inside the storage pendant. He stood up and walked across the bed of clouds, then stepped out into his room—only to find Ján staring at him.

Ján held the dorm's door open, and watched Wulf step out of the void pendant with his mouth wide. "Woah. You…you have a storage pendant? Wait, you're an Artificer too? Or…wait, is that potion-making material? Are those potion-making ingredients? Are you an…" He dropped his voice to a whisper. "Are you an alchemist?"

Wulf held his finger up, then ran over and shut the door. Once it was closed, he said, "Would you make a Field pact not to tell anyone?"

"Uh…roommate?" Ján tilted his head. "Look, man. You're nice and all. You're cool. But if you're doing something wrong, I can't keep crimes and stuff secret for you."

"I'm not doing anything illegal," Wulf said.

At least, as far as he knew. He wasn't exactly sure what the laws were around alchemy, and the fundamental essences of the world—or tampering with them. There were probably laws, but none of that would matter in the coming years. Anything in service of the continued survival of humanity would be a priority, laws and arcane ethics be damned.

"A—alright. I swear on the Field that I won't tell anyone what you're about to tell me." Ján held his hand out, fingers wide.

Wulf clasped his wrist and sealed the Field pact. Energy coursed between their limbs, and the Field tingled, confirming the pact.

"I am an Alchemist," Wulf said. "But…it's a unique Class. With my abilities, I can still pilot golems."

"Woah. That's pretty cool, roommate. How does it work?"

"It's hard to explain, but you can't tell anyone, because—"

"Because the only crafters at the academy are Artificers, right. You wouldn't fit in to your faculty."

"Exactly. They'd kick me out on principle, even if I can do everything else a Pilot can do."

Ján shook his head, then turned around. "I mean, it's just hard to take it, that's all. I promise I won't tell anyone…hey, is your bracer telling you you have an advancement—you made it to Middle-Coal already? What the hell?"

Wulf winced. "Yeah…I do need to deal with it."

"Can I help?"

"Uh…sure?" Then, Wulf pulled his arm closer and read the options aloud:

[Unshakable] Your resistance to chaos increases for every person in your vicinity under the effect of your potions.

[Shardmonger] Any broken glass with potion on it is under your control. Uses mana for each shard under your control.

[Deadline] You can immediately detonate any poisonous effects on an enemy, doubling the effect strength for every hour the effect has remaining and triggering it in an instant.

Alternate: You may choose to upgrade one of your previous Skills.

Wulf read off all the Skill options to Ján.

"Woah. Those are so weird," Ján said. "I guess it's a unique class, but I've never heard of even half of those. As a mage, all my Skills are pretty standard." He snapped his fingers and triggered a spell Skill with a whisper, and a candle-sized flame sprang up on his fingertips. "Probably going to end up with a flame aspect at this rate."

"You're still just a Middle-Wood," Wulf reminded him. "Don't fret about it."

"Yeah, anyway, we're here to decide your skills, right?" Ján dropped down on his bed with a thud and stretched. "[Shardmonger] sounds cool."

"It did at first," Wulf said. "But I started to realize that it was too far away from my other abilities. It gave me that as an option before, and I declined it."

"[Deadline], then?"

"That was what I was thinking, too. I need more active abilities, and I'm already really good at making poisons." He scratched his chin. That was due to [By Your Will], but the likelihood of producing a harmful potion decreased as his ingredients became stronger. So if he tried to make an only poison-based build, then it'd hurt his abilities later on.

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But…[Unshakable] was a passive, and it was much like [Bastion], only that it wouldn't really be important in combat, and he wasn't planning on crafting potions and transmuting materials while sitting around in a massive hall with everyone else watching—and being under the effect of his potions.

Besides, he could control the outcome of a potion, now, which meant he could purposely create poisonous potions. In particular, he eyed his cube of snailsalt, which still sat beyond the opening of his storage pendant.

"I think you should take [Deadline], at least," Ján said. "It seems like the best. Unless you just want to upgrade your Skills."

Wulf shook his head. "You don't want to do that, unless you've got a really bad selection or something that would hurt your growth later on."

"Why? Aren't you going to get a lot more skills later on? One for each third of a tier?"

Wulf shook his head. "You only gain new abilities per tier up until Copper. At that point, your 'base' has been set in stone, and increasing your tier only rarely gains you a new skill if you've really worked for it. Otherwise, it just gives you Skill upgrades. You've gotta use Marks to continue altering yourself."

"Huh," Ján said. "Did they mention that in Basics of Field-Based Advancement?"

"Yeah. But you probably weren't paying attention," Wulf said. They hadn't actually—he just knew that from his past life—but he couldn't tell Ján that too.

"I guess not." Ján shook his head. "Well, congratulations, alche—alc—al…huh. Neat. I can't even say that word anymore?"

"You can't say anything that would reveal me as an Alchemist knowingly."

"Ah. Field pact business."

"Yeah. Now…" Wulf sealed up his storage pendant and hung it around his neck. "I think I'm gonna call it for the night. Goodnight, roommate," he said with a grin, "and don't stay up too late, alright?"

"You got it."

~ ~ ~

Wulf had about another week and a half of chores before Ninthmonth rolled around and he was released from his duties with the janitors. Only a few days later, when the first real snowfall was beginning, he and Kalee finished up fixing the border grove with Chef Kennet.

They packed a mound of mud along the old line where the grove would've run, cutting across the Oronith footprint, and buried a few poplar saplings in the ground along the line of the ridge, which they had saved for this occasion.

Despite the season, the saplings still had green leaves. Kennet threw a temporary blanket over them to shield them from the elements, then fed them mana with a Skill to accelerate their growth, but it'd still be a month before they rivalled the other trees.

In that time, Kennet would use his gardening Skills—which seemed to be part of his chef Class—to keep the trees alive, despite the winter conditions. When summer rolled around, they would set the trees loose, and the regular cycle would take over.

"Was there something about…runic formations?" Wulf asked Kennet on their last day. "Did we have to make carvings in their trunks?"

"I'll have the faculty Artificers do that, no shame to you," Kennet said. "And the trees have to grow a little older before we begin embedding runes in their trunks. Can't carve much on these twigs yet." He shook his head. "By my accounting, you've more than paid for your minor transgressions, and you're free to go."

Wulf and Kalee both nodded thankfully. As the season latened, it was getting much darker sooner, and sunset wasn't a reliable way to track time.

"Just be careful around these parts at night," Kennet provided. "With the barrier as weak as it is here, I'm sure you might get some wild orc-bison wandering where they shouldn't be as they migrate south."

"Got it," Wulf said thankfully. Come to think of it, though, he hadn't really seen an orc-bison in his last life.

As they were walking back, Wulf turned to Kalee and said, "Do you think we should tell Dr. Langold that we suspect another attack? Do you think he'd listen to us now?"

"I think if we tell him that, he'll increase security at the Oronith docks, and he'll make it infinitely harder for us to steal one when the time comes," Kalee replied.

"See, I was worried about that, too," Wulf said. "But then I figured he'd probably already increased security, and it wouldn't make much difference if we were going to steal one."

She tilted her head and wound her tail up to scratch her chin with its tip. "I suppose…"

"C'mon," he said. "Dr. Langold will still be in his office for a few more minutes if we hurry. He'll probably be more open to hearing our case now that we've served out our chores."

"Alright, but if he expels us, it's on you."

"We'll be fine."

They sprinted across the campus until they reached the central butte and climbed up to Langold's office, then knocked on the door.

"Come in," he said calmly.

Wulf and Kalee both stepped inside and approached the desk at the center.

"Ah, you two," Langold said. "What is it this time? You don't need any signatures or anything to prove that you've completed your chores. I've gotten the reports from Kennet and Marsa, and you two did phenomenally."

"Sorry, sir," Wulf said. "But we know where the next demon attack is going to be."

"And when," Kalee added.

Langold sighed, then leaned forward and rubbed his forehead. "By the Field, you two cannot stop causing me headaches, can you?"

Wulf glanced at Kalee, and they both shrugged. Wulf said, "No?"

"Alright, then. Out with it—and preferably before Dr. Azanthius returns for the night. He'll be leaving for the Centralis Academy soon, and he has plenty of papers he needs me to sign." Langold leaned forward. "When and where?"