NOVEL NEXT Chapter 55: Interrogation
"Clegghold," Wulf said to Dr. Langold. "At least, that's where the nearest demon sphere will fall."
"And on the second Fourthday of Thirdmonth," Kalee added. "Next year."
He hadn't remembered the exact date. It hadn't exactly stuck in his mind, not like the first demon attack, but he was glad she remembered. Besides, it was kinda hard to remember dates at the best of times.
Dr. Langold sighed. "I'm sorry, you two. That's far away. About a months' journey, even in an Oronith, and I don't think either of you have enough mana to power it for that long."
"You'd be surprised with Wulf," Kalee said softly.
"Hm?" Langold tilted his head. "You are still both only Middle-Coals. Piloting an Oronith was incredibly impressive, but none of that inherently expands your mana supply. And neither of you have a storage core yet."
Wulf was about to correct Langold, but he kept his mouth shut. They were probably already arousing quite a few suspicions, and he didn't need to make it worse.
"How'd you learn, then? Same method? Messengers?"
Wulf and Kalee both nodded, and Kalee provided. "They came tonight, which is why we ran to you."
Langold shook his head. "It still sounds preposterous, though I understand that both of you have now obtained a Grand Mark. So that would be…thrice that you've been visited by a Messenger?"
They nodded again quickly.
Langold rubbed the bridge of his nose. "I believe you on the location and time. I have to. You two were right the first time. So, as a token of my goodwill, I will send a letter over to Clegghold warning them of the attack, and I will have them keep their Oroniths on high alert for the entire week."
Wulf pursed his lips. That wasn't really going to work. Clegghold might have had their own arm of five Oroniths to protect them, but it hadn't helped last time—and Langold's words were mostly empty air. The Oroniths would already be on high alert.
"By your silence," Langold continued, "I take it that's not good enough."
"It's going to be a bigger attack," Wulf said. "There are going to be more colossal fiends, and they'll be stronger."
"The Field told you this?"
"Yes."
"Both of you?"
"Yes."
Langold tapped his fingers on the desk. "I don't know what more I can do. The academy is of critical importance to defend, and we have already spread out defensive forces thin. We've sent away fifteen Oroniths with cobbled-together fourth year crews, trying to help out wherever we can, and only five remain to protect the academy."
"The demons won't be attacking here, sir," Wulf said.
"Can you be certain of that?"
"Yes. The Messenger told us."
Langold scratched the back of his head. "It's too big of a risk. I can't do it, for the sake of all our jobs, and the reputation of the academy." He hung his head. "I'm sorry, my boy, but if the defenses at Clegghold do not, in fact, hold, then it would simply be within the realm of acceptable mistakes. But if we dispatch Oroniths and leave the Academy unguarded? It would be all of our jobs on the line."
Wulf narrowed his eyes. "Why? We were right once. About nearly everything!"
Shaking his head, Langold leaned back. "I wasn't done. There might just happen to be unscheduled maintenance on the Oronith docks on, say, the first week of next year's Secondmonth. Someone might end up reporting cracks in the dock foundations, and thus, the entire upper platform would have to be cleared—including no guards."
Wulf grinned.
"If a student were to sneak in and steal an Oronith during the maintenance," Langold continued, "no one would be able to stop them in a timely fashion. And, if they got too far away before we could scramble a crew, pursuit would cause the same defense problems for us. We'd have to stay put. I can't guarantee how far said students would get, but given that they have a few months before then, I'd say they have plenty of time to expand their mana wells, so their escape could go farther."
This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.
"Thank you, sir."
"Don't mention it," Langold said. "Truly, do not mention it. If you do, I will have no choice but to expel you for spreading lies about the faculty. Work hard, expand your storage, and we will see what we can do for you."
~ ~ ~
That night, when Wulf returned to the dorms, he didn't know how to feel. It was late, he'd accomplished a lot, but the academy system still made him angry.
But still, he supposed he shouldn't blame them too much for it. At least, not Dr. Langold. He was just another bureaucrat with no real say in the matter, doing what he could, and having to believe some ridiculous story. And, at the end of it all, Langold had still managed to do the best he could.
Wulf reached for the dorm room, key in hand, but the moment he put any weight on the door, it swung open. Someone had busted open the lock, and the frame was cracked slightly. Wulf tucked his key away and reached for his haversack, where he could unveil a potion and either use it immediately, or splash it and control it with [Arm of the Alchemist].
He had a splatter potion, which he'd made with snailsalt. It caused extreme dehydration, slowness, and blindness all at once, but it built up over time. Beside it was a strength potion and a speed potion.
"Anyone in there?" Wulf asked, then pushed the door open. The candles were dim, the window was closed. It was empty.
He ran over to the desk, then retrieved his two storage pendants from the windowsill. They hadn't been touched. No one had even noticed them. His textbooks, which he'd been keeping under the mattress, were unharmed.
But, despite how late it was, Ján was nowhere to be seen.
Wulf cautiously approached Ján's side of the room. The bedsheets were a mess, which wasn't normal, and there was a scuff on the ground—from the sole of a boot. There had been a struggle here.
"Ján?" Wulf called, just in case.
There was no answer. Only an echo.
"Damn the Field," Wulf cursed. Then, he breathed, "What happened?
Still no reply. He checked the schedule pinned to Ján's wall, just to make sure Ján didn't have an evening lab that ran late into the evening. There was nothing, and Ján should have been back by now.
A pit formed in Wulf's stomach.
But, just below the schedule, there was a hand-drawn campus map. That'd been there for a while. The pin, however, stuck haphazardly into the bottom of the page, near the border grove, hadn't been there for long. And there was absolutely no reason for a pin to be there…except as a warning, or a call for help.
It was right at the south of the campus, where the opening in the grove wall was. Where it was weak.
Whatever was happening, Ján was in danger. If he was anywhere, it'd be where his pin was. Wulf ripped his speed potion out of his haversack and drank it in two glugs. The tiredness fled from his mind, and his body sprang to action. He was ready to do something.
He had to help. By the time anyone else noticed, it'd be too late. No matter what was going on.
He sprinted back out the dorm room door, leaving it wide open, then ran through the building. He pushed past a crowd of students staggering in. He considered getting them to call for help, but he didn't have the time, and with the help of the speed potion, he was moving as fast as he could. He passed them in a blink.
With his potion, he was moving about twice as fast as he normally could. He blasted through the hallways, leaving a flutter of wind in his wake. Party recruitment posters and other advertisements fluttered.
When he reached the doors, he sprinted out, then crossed the plains, heading south. He disregarded any paths or trails, and instead, sprinting through the snow-covered grass, making straight for the hole in the grove wall. The inch-high dusting of snow rose up in a wake behind him.
The grove wall drew closer, and still, there was no sign of Ján. Wulf sprinted side-to-side along the row of trees, but there was nothing.
Whatever happened, Ján was probably outside the grove, and outside the protection of the Academy's barriers.
Wulf hopped over the row of saplings, then charged out into the hilly fields beyond. In the distance, a crack shot through the night. It had the faint clink beneath it, like someone had just snapped a windchime in half. It wasn't loud enough to alert the rest of the academy, but it was still pretty loud.
Was that a spell Skill activating? It didn't sound like a fire Skill, but Wulf couldn't place exactly what it was.
He turned in the general direction and crossed over a set of hills, then stopped. The ground was vibrating. Ahead was a ravine in the plains, with a half-frozen river at the bottom.
Three figures stood at the edge, blanketed in pale moonlight. All students. Wulf dropped to his stomach so they wouldn't see him.
"You didn't say there'd be orc-bison out tonight!" a voice called. "We were just supposed to hold him over the edge of the cliff until he talked!"
Wulf narrowed his eyes. The boy who'd shouted that was holding another boy by the collar of his uniform, teetering him over the edge of the cliff.
"I'm not talking!" the boy hanging over the cliff shouted. It was Ján's voice, but Wulf couldn't make out too many details. "I won't—I can't—say anything."
"Well, looks like the orc-bison are migrating south," came a third voice. He stood back from the edge, arms crossed over his stomach. That was Umoch's voice… "Better make this quick, then. I didn't know they were moving today either, but I won't say no."
"Umoch, sir!" the first boy—presumably a fletcher—pleaded. "They're crowding the valley floor down there, and soon, some will make it up! Any minute, they'll run us off. We…we aren't actually going to kill him, are we?"
"Wasn't planning on it, but…it'd be a shame if he didn't tell us what we wanted to know. We might just have to." Umoch marched closer to the edge and leaned over, half-facing Ján. "What is he? He beat Harrel with ease, and now he's a Middle-Coal. You have to tell us! You have to know—you're his roommate."
"I…can't!" Ján shouted. "Just put me down, dammit! You're insane!"
"Oh, I do a good job of hiding it, don't I?" Umoch sneered. "You think I'll hesitate? I've seen Dad do worse things to seal a deal, and if this is what it takes to follow in his footsteps, then so be it. Tell me what you know!"