By the time they arrived in Arotelk, the sun was setting, and a light autumn rain was falling. It wasn’t terribly cold yet, but it was getting colder, and though Wulf’s coat wasn’t necessary yet, he figured he’d be thankful for it soon.

  They walked into the entertainment district, where there were significantly less Academy students. Average people crowded the flagstone streets, dodging wagons and carts, before flitting in and out of restaurants.

  Rows upon rows of hanging lanterns criss-crossed over the street, dousing it in golden light. Street vendors fried savoury foods in massive pans, triggering Skills to infuse them with mana or to just help their basic crafting classes work faster (chefs, cooks, and innkeepers were all viable Classes in the modern age). Or, for the majority who weren’t Ascendants, they just worked regularly. They darted between patios, carrying trays laden with drinks and steaming food.

  Wulf’s stomach gurgled. He hadn’t eaten a nice meal in…well, decades, considering his past life. Sure, the mess hall food was good, but it was mass-produced. This would be special for a multitude of reasons.

  “You had a suggestion? A place in mind?” Wulf asked Irmond, who walked a few steps behind. He had to raise his voice over the bustle of the street, just to be heard.

  “Yeah!” Irmond called back. “It’s just like…a few more blocks down the street!”

  After another minute, the four of them arrived at a first-storey restaurant beneath a high tower of administrative offices for some local guild. Its facade was carved marble, with enormous windows, and a sign above its door reading Bagnolio’s. Wulf was pretty sure it wasn’t a real name, and just trying to sound foreign (maybe from a peninsula at the very south of the Confederacy) but he didn’t mind.

  And better yet, there was an outdoor patio with a few open tables, lit by braziers and lanterns, and shielded from the elements with purposely uneven cloth coverings.

  Most of the other guests were dressed nicer—in doublets or formal gambesons, some dresses, some silken robes. A harp-player with fox ears sat in the corner, running her hand back and forth across the harp’s strings and playing a pleasant melody.

  “I’ll foot the bill,” Wulf told Irmond, “but I need you to handle the ordering and…that kind of stuff. I have no idea what to ask for.”

  “Figured.” Irmond cast him a smile. “Fortunately, I have practice!” He approached a lectern at the edge of the patio and gave the attendant a slight bow, then said, “Good evening, ma’am. Do you have any open tables? Preferably for four?”

  “Yes, sir,” she said. “One left for the evening, and you’re just in time. Follow me.”

  “Could you request the Autumnleaf Clan’s special?” Irmond asked. “If they’d begin preparing it, that would be wonderful.”

  “That is a meal meant for seven guests, sir,” the attendant warned.

  “Something tells me these guys are going to eat their weight tonight,” Irmond said, motioning back at Wulf and the others with his thumb.

  “Very good, sir.”

  The attendant led them to a table near the edge of the patio, with a view of the street. A little cozy, a little noisy, but Wulf wasn’t about to complain.

  Once they all sat down, Wulf leaned back, and for a few minutes, just settled into his seat and relaxed.

  Finally, Kalee began, “So why do you need glass-crafting equipment?”

  Wulf leaned forward again, and, keeping his voice low, said, “For Seith’s sake…well, alright, I’m a bit of an alchemist. I think that’ll probably explain a little. See, most alchemists nowadays just use mass-produced vials and such. But that’s not the best way to craft a potion. I’m looking to make the strongest potions I can, and I’ll need to make my own flasks to store them in.”

  “I…see,” Kalee said.

  “Thanks for the constructs, by the way. They work phenomenally.” Wulf leaned forward. While he’d been relaxing and zoned out, someone had brought them glasses of ice-water. He took a sip.

  Kalee’s face lit up red, and she looked away.

  “Did I…say something wrong?” Wulf glanced at Irmond.

  The elf shrugged. “Love the ladies, but their ways are always mysterious to me.”

  Seith elbowed him and rolled her eyes.

  “Hey!” Irmond exclaimed. “What?”

  “Nothing,” Seith grumbled.

  “Sorry.” Kalee cleared her throat, then wound her tail up around her shoulder, like a human might nervously scratch their shoulder with their hand. “Just…well, I don’t really get compliments much. Especially before”—she said that with so much emphasis that Wulf was pretty sure she meant in her past life—“my mild artificing skills never really seemed that exceptional.”

  Stolen novel; please report.

  “For a Mage to also have artificing knowledge is pretty impressive,” Seith said, reaching out and placing a hand on Kalee’s shoulder. “Don’t sell yourself short.”

  “Don’t really know you, but thanks.” Kalee gave a genuine smile. Then, she turned back to Wulf. “Now, if you’re using the technique you described to me, I’m surprised you haven’t advanced to Low-Coal yet.”

  “I’m…” Wulf sighed. “Alright, I’ll admit. I’ve developed a storage core, and I’m working on expanding it.”

  The three of them stared at him. They didn’t say a word.

  “A storage core? Like…actually?” Irmond groaned. “How? How’d you do it at your level? Oh, by the Field, I’m so far behind.” He rubbed his forehead.

  “Look, look, alright,” Wulf said. “I’ll admit, and I need you guys to not spread the word. I’m an Alchemist, capital A. By Class, that’s it. But I’ve found a way to make golems move, and I still want to pilot Oroniths. To do it, I’ll need a massive supply of mana. But I plan to be able to operate an Oronith on my own by the time I reach Low-Coal.”

  “What in the hells kind of alchemist are you?” Seith whispered. “You do realize that most Pilots don’t even stand a chance at moving an Oronith until they’ve reached High-Copper, and that’s the best of them. Bronze Tier is a more reasonable estimate.”

  “It’s…complicated,” Wulf said. “But there’s a reason.” He glanced at Kalee. “I know I’m asking for a lot of trust, but we, the two of us, have reason to think there’s going to be another demon attack soon. One of the landing sites will be…here, in Arotelk.”

  Irmond and Seith were silent for a few seconds.

  “H—how?” Irmond asked. “Like, how would you know? And…I thought we’d fought off the demons. Four thousand years ago, our ancestors dealt with them.”

  “The demons come from above,” Kalee said. “Spherical rocks fall from the sky. We don’t know from where or why they come. Though the Academy might not want to believe it, they could return any time.”

  Wulf had to admit, he didn’t know why the demons came, attacked, or did anything they did. If they’d learned in the future, he wasn’t privy to that knowledge. But Kalee was right: they could return “any time”—now, the two of them just happened to know what “any time” was.

  The Academy and the Confederation had to know the demons could return, too, which was why they kept generations trained to pilot Oroniths. The world’s strongest weapon against the demons also happened to work well in combat against other nations, though, so they had an excuse to keep them around without rousing fear in the general public.

  “Do you have any…proof?” Seith asked. “How could either of you know? Have you seen falling stars, or…anything?”

  Wulf glanced at Kalee. He wasn’t ready to tell either Irmond or Seith who he was yet, and from the look on Kalee’s face, she wasn’t either.

  But, thinking quickly, Wulf said, “The Oracle of Carolaign told me upon awakening my Class.”

  That was a complete lie. Carolaign didn’t have an Oracle. They were a rare, often Unique class that could make slight predictions about the future. But almost no one knew anything about Carolaign, and wouldn’t know that there was no Oracle.

  Both Irmond and Seith sighed. They might not necessarily believe him, but the word of an Oracle had never been wrong, not once in the historical record.

  Kalee nodded along. “I believe him. The monsters in the woods have been acting up more than normal.”

  “Eight-Nine was the date I got from the Oracle,” Wulf said. He rubbed his forehead. “We’re going to talk with the academy heads, and the fancy people from the central branch. But I doubt they’ll listen to us. Headmaster Langold might, but he has no real power. He wouldn’t dispatch a team of Oroniths to Arotelk on a whim.”

  “The Centralis Academy heads might listen,” Kalee reasoned.

  “I don’t think they’ll believe the word of an Oracle from Carolaign,” Seith said. “Sorry to burst the bubble, but the Centralis Branch is even more stuck-up than this branch. They’re not going to listen.”

  “Which is why I brought you four here,” Wulf said. “I’m banking on them not listening, and I need a crew. I’ll be the Pilot, and I’ve got a Ranger, a Mage, and an Artificer. On Eight-Nine, we’re going to steal an Oronith. If you want in, you can stay. If you want out, no ill will. I’ll still be here, and I’ll always protect you guys. If you want out further down the line, no oath binds you. And if I’m the only one, I’ll still pilot it alone.”

  For a few seconds, the rest of them said nothing. Kalee piped up first, though, and said, “I’m in. You’ll need someone to help you slow the colossal fiends, and when I socket into the weapons system, I should be able to amplify my spells enough to do real damage.”

  Irmond nodded. “How could I say no? It’s the opportunity of a lifetime. Like…on my own, I’ll never be good enough to make it into a crew. But I swear, I’ll be your eyes and ears.”

  Seith was silent for a few more seconds. Finally, she muttered, “So you’re all insane. I should report this to the faculty, but what the hells? They won’t believe me, anyway, because it’s so ridiculous.” She crossed her arms. “Back where I come from, Wulf, we always show deference to those stronger than us. I don’t always buy into that, but for now, I’ll trust your judgement. I’m in. But what do you need?”

  “I’ll need you to keep our Oronith in good order and functional, and to keep us moving. We’re going to be taking a lot of damage.” He sighed. “But…personally? I’m going to need more arcane constructs. I still have a ways to go expanding my storage core, and Kalee and I will need proper dream sockets. If I asked you to help me with it, what would you need in return?”

  Seith chuckled. “Consider this payback. You…you did technically save me from the Fletchers.”

  “You saved yourself.”

  “I would never have gotten out without you.” She shook her head. “Admit it, Wulf.”

  “Alright.”

  “Besides, I think this meal should count, too.” She tilted her head toward an attendant, who approached the table. Trays of food covered his arms. “Looks like an absolute feast.”

  The attendant set down plates upon plates of food. Creamy noodles steamed in silver trays, topped with herbs and garlic. Fried, breaded chicken simmered on plates, with cheese melted and broiled on top. Flatbreads with tomato sauce and sausage, dumplings with cheese filling. All of it glistened, slightly greasy, salty and sweet, and enticing.

  “Well,” Wulf said. “I think we’ve come to a consensus. Thanks for the pledges, and I promise, we’ll do this. I’ve got your backs. Now let’s dig in.”