Fate Alchemist - A Regression Academy LitRPG

Dr. Arnau dragged Wulf back toward the ship's stern. He could've resisted, but doing that would've been pointless. She would still win, being a Gold. Besides, he didn't need to resist.

Beneath the caravel's quarterdeck was the great cabin—Dr. Arnau's room. She pushed open a short doorway, then almost folded in half at her midsection to fit her and the golem through at the same time. Once inside, she stepped out of the granite behemoth, then snapped her fingers, and the creature crumpled. It condensed in on itself until it was the size of a briefcase.

That had to be the work of some space-altering construct, because there was no way so much granite could fold into that small of a space. She hoisted it up by a handle at its top, then shoved it under a desk in the center of the cabin.

The cabin had a low ceiling, and the only light spilled in through the side windows, from the moons. The stern window, a large round window, had a curtain over it. There was a desk in the center, covered in books and sheets of paper. A few had fallen off in the storm, which Dr. Arnau picked up and placed back into neat piles.

Finally, she lit a lantern and hooked it onto the ceiling. It swayed gently as the ship rocked and turned—the crew had replaced the sails, and they were turning into the wind again. The lanternlight illuminated a hammock in the corner and a few other bookshelves along the walls.

Dr. Arnau opened a drawer in a cabinet at the side of the room, then retrieved a sheet of blank parchment. She passed it to Wulf. "Enchanted parchment. I believe you've earned yourself a new Mark."

Wulf raised his eyebrows, but that tracked. "I…can keep it?" He'd brought extras—that had been one of the supplies they'd spent some of their summer break acquiring.

"Yes. Use it."

Wulf pinned it back to his leather bracer, then fed the Field into the paper. Enchanted parchment was technically an arcane construct, but a very simple one. It used to be made with animal skins, but that was expensive, and when Artificers developed a way of turning wood pulp into an equivalent substance, all Ascendants jumped on it. It was just so much cheaper, even if they were more prone to damage. Specialized Artificers fed mana into the wood pulp as they were preparing it, tuning it to the Field and attuning it to the will of an Ascendant.

This sheet had already been prepared with some ink, apparently. It wasn't much ink, but it was enough to give the paper a slightly dark tint. It bled back through the paper, forming letters in the very center:

[Mark unlocked: Stormtalker]

[Stormtalker] You have competed with the wind in a contest of voices, and you were louder. Your strength and agility have increased slightly.

He showed it to Dr. Arnau. "A simple Mark, nothing more. I promise, I had nothing to do with that spirit." He shrugged. "I just…took initiative."

"It sounds like you have done that a lot lately." Dr. Arnau dropped herself down in the chair behind her desk. There was a straw-filled cushion, but it looked like it had seen worse than wet clothes. "You are certainly an impressive specimen, for someone your age. And an even greater miracle that I had never heard of you before your time at the Istalis Academy, not even once."

"Thank you…?"

"But what I want to know is this: how does a farmboy from Carolaign know how to talk and bargain with sentient spirits? Much less know about their cores and convince a Ruby-Tier spirit to drop its core."

Wulf sighed. He pulled the glass sphere the storm spirit had dropped out of his pocket and placed it on the desk. It began rolling as soon as he set it down, so he placed it in the center of a tea-plate which Dr. Arnau was using to hold a smoking pipe.

"You can keep it," Dr. Arnau said. "You earned it, and any Ascendant under my command gets to keep what they've earned."

"I'm not under your command," Wulf said.

"While you're on my ship, you are. And I command you to tell me how you know so much about spirits."

Wulf sighed. He couldn't explain that he'd accumulated a base knowledge on the natural beasts of the world in his past life. Dr. Arnau might understand (or be willing to listen) in a few years, but he couldn't guarantee how she'd react right now.

Suffice it to say, the spirits he found in dungeons gave him enough experience to deal with an average storm spirit. He knew how to tell them what they wanted to hear and negotiate passage. No sense fighting a strong one, especially if he didn't have to.

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"Like I said," Wulf told her. "We've dealt with some on the farm."

She shook her head. "So you've said. But one of the reasons Carolaign produces so few Ascendants is because of how mana-dry it is. There isn't enough mana to sustain a sentient spirit for long."

Wulf sighed. Of course she wouldn't buy it. He almost rubbed the bridge of his nose, then leaned over the counter. Dr. Arnau pushed away a stack of books so the puddle he was creating wouldn't get them wet.

He had to stay a step ahead, or this wasn't going to work.

"I…I was interested in some of the same areas of study as you," Wulf lied. "Specifically, when it comes to natural spirits. You can ask Ms. Wenarle, she'll tell you that I checked out some texts on stone spirits. I think there was even one that you'd written."

Dr. Arnau raised her eyebrows. Wulf was pretty safe in that lie, he figured, because even if they came back to the Confederacy, the chances of Dr. Arnau talking with the old librarian were slim, much less asking about Wulf's reading interests.

"I know about your work, Dr. Arnau, which was why I was somewhat interested in that area of study. You're not just a combat instructor. You want to improve the function of Oroniths by improving their central mountain spirit, right? And you want to do that through cooperation and negotiation, rather than complete willpower and force."

Dr. Arnau narrowed her eyes. "I haven't published that paper yet. It's still in peer review."

Wulf gulped. Too far ahead. "Sorry, I was just…guessing, based on what I've already read of yours."

She sighed, then said, "Like the spirit said, I see a bright future ahead of you. Let's hope you don't find yourself dead…in these new demon wars."

To keep his cover up, he asked, "Do you think it will be as bad as last time? Four thousand years ago?"

"All the signs are there. It certainly feels the same." Dr. Arnau crossed her arms and leaned back in her chair, then looked down. "But all war feels the same, at this point. It takes the brightest lights from us too soon."

Wulf didn't know how to respond to that. Last life, he'd never really made her open up about her personal life, and he doubted he'd be able to start now.

"I'm sorry, ma'am, if I went too far," Wulf said. "But I figured with my Grand Marks, I'd be able to convince the spirit to back off."

"It was a good assumption." She nodded. "Spirits are capable of respect, even if it's subconscious. That, I suspect, is one of the reasons you and your team were able to take control of Silent Wraith. Its inner base spirit respected not only your Grand Mark, but your drive and your willingness to use it for what you believed in."

"Are spirits capable of belief?" Wulf asked.

"They are capable of longing," she answered. "Did you miss that part in my research? Spirits long to be like us, to feel what we feel, to act as we do. Not humans, per say, but sapient life in general. They admire us, to a certain extent, and there are some of us who are more admirable than others. Those of us who are more alive, who believe in something and fight for it, are better suited to be Pilots."

Wulf sighed, then nodded. "May I go clean up now?"

"One last question, Mr. Hrothen, and this one is off the books," Dr. Arnau said. "The others wouldn't have noticed, but you used a splatter potion, didn't you?"

He blew a puff of air out his nose. There was no sense in lying about that. "Yes, ma'am. I—"

"Where did you get a potion strong enough to affect ten people at once? I would very much like to meet this alchemist." She picked up her pipe, then reached for the lantern and lit the tobacco in the pipe's funnel and took a puff. "His garden would be an…interesting side-jaunt, yes, perhaps for some stronger pipeleaf, but I'm more interested in who he is."

"Pardon?"

"I don't suppose you've heard of the Great Alchemist Panne?"

"N—no, ma'am."

"Thought not. Not many have, anymore. He sprang out of nowhere during the first demon wars. No powerful family, nothing, and made untold contributions to the study of alchemy, but had no heirs. His Class was never passed down. It would be…interesting if another Great Alchemist was rearing his head as the new demon wars were beginning. Perhaps just a coincidence."

Dr. Arnau regarded him with suspicion, but not complete disbelief. He could still get out of this one.

"I found it in a shop a few villages inland from Kouver," Wulf said. "If you want, I could show you the place. Next time we return here." He held his tongue for a few seconds, reminding himself that she was not formally his instructor yet. There was no we. "They sold all sorts of trinkets, though."

"Hm." Dr. Arnau took another puff of her pipe. "You are a pilot, correct? Where is your golem?"

Unwilling to give away the fact that he'd made his own storage constructs, where he was currently keeping his custom golem, he said, "I only used the golems provided by the academy, ma'am."

"Very well. You're dismissed. You may keep the spirit's core, Mr. Hrothen."

"Thank you, ma'am." Wulf picked it up and tucked it into his haversack.

"And Wulf," she added. "Do not show that to anyone but your close friends. You already have plenty of jealous gazes. You don't need more."

"Thank you," he repeated, backing toward the door. He reached for the handle, but before he left, he asked, "Why would it drop this? I didn't kill it, did I?"

"When a spirit reaches the Ruby Tier, it will have multiple cores. It split its core, like you have done to your own."

Damn. She saw that too.

"The spirit respected you more than it let on," she continued. "And gave you a reward to help you, likely in your endeavours against its common enemy. Use it well."