Touch Of Fate 175 Military Matters

"I don't remember saying anything like that. Are you sure you weren't imagining it?" Sera asked with a slight head tilt and an expression of concern that suggested she thought he was going crazy.

"You just told me that I would suffer horribly, to the point of welcoming the coming of Oblivion! Considering your...circ.u.mstances, can you understand why I might be worried?" Mike reb.u.t.ted, trying his best to remain calm. The Oracle's words had left him feeling cold with horror. Even though he knew his Fate-Touched skill meant that anything foretold about him was suspect, it was hard to completely dismiss his fears.

"I might have, but I have no memory of it. While it could be a new manifestation of my abilities caused by my change in cla.s.s, I have never heard of that kind of foretelling before. Besides, it's not like you got any specifics from it. Any idiot who spent more than five minutes watching the ongoing disaster that is your life could come up with something similar. I think you should just do your best to put it out of your mind."

[Easy for you to say. You've apparently already succeeded in doing so.]

Mike sighed, deciding that, since the argument wasn't going anywhere, he might as well put it on hold for the time being. "Alright, I'll try to forget it. Anyway, I'll see you here at eight bells then?"

She nodded with a faint smile before returning to her coffee with relish.

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[That girl is definitely not a morning person.]

He wandered off to find Tal, and offered her the same deal. His efforts were rewarded with an enthusiastically written 'Okay.' With that settled, and Brenden MIA, he needed to decide what to do with the rest of his day.

There were three things he felt he needed to accomplish in the near future. Restocking his crafting supplies took first priority, hopefully with more potent materials. The simplest way to do this would be to buy them, but if he could locate a nearby dungeon, it might be worth delving for the mana cores alone. With Red's help, his range of travel had increased exponentially.

Second was to train and equip his party to the best of his capability. That extended to him as well, and he hoped to find some time to work on a few skills before the coming conflict. Should he decide to go the delving route, it would provide him an excellent opportunity to do so.

Finally, he wanted to go back to the black market bookstore, and see if he couldn't talk the Broker into letting him in on the secret of hiding from Appraise. Also, since he'd learned how easy it was to produce items of interest to the shop, he wanted to see if he could continue to expand his selection of books. Although that might have to wait until after he'd crafted a few more things to trade.

After some thought, he decided he would attend his first cla.s.s, more out of fear of Instructor Johnathan's anger than anything else, but would play hooky for the rest of the day again. Combined with another night's worth of effort, he felt he could make great strides with his various crafting skills.

Thus, he set off in the direction of his Basic Elemental Magic Cla.s.s. It was good he did, because things had evidently changed.

"Line up! As of today, you are all officially soldiers in service to Almir. Congratulations. That's right, the Call to Arms has been issued. For most of you this won't mean much, other than a s.h.i.+ft in the focus of your studies, but make no mistake, we are in the thick of it. Any day now the Tennundians will be clamoring at our gates, and it will be up to us to throw them back. As such, from this point forward, we will be concentrating on combat techniques. Since you are soldiers now, if any of you falter, for even a second, I will make sure that all of you suffer for it. Is that clear?"

""Yes, Sir!""

"Good. We'll start with a lap around the department. A strong mage needs a strong body. I'm going to count to one hundred, and I'll start chasing you, and if I catch any of you we will all be doing two more laps. Now, get moving!" Johnathan was in rare form. Mike thought he almost seemed excited by the prospect of battle in the near future.

Judging from the sudden increase in the harshness of his instruction, he was probably given special dispensation to start toughening the young mages up. Mike thought it was probably a little late to really see any results, but it was probably better than doing nothing.

The pace the group set was fairly leisurely for him. While most of them appeared to be in relatively good shape, Quentin and, surprisingly, Aine seemed to be having trouble.

They started flagging almost immediately, and the instructor caught up with them after a few minutes, leading to a round of haranguing from Johnathan.

By the time the group was done with the third lap, almost everyone was panting, sweaty, and exhausted. Mike was an exception, since he'd nonchalantly kept pace without even trying. Even the Instructor looked slightly disgusted with him, once they had gathered once more.

Mike knew his athletic prowess had reached the level of ridiculous since he'd reincarnated, but he hadn't quite realized how far from the norm he'd gotten. Unlimited stamina was, quite simply, a ridiculously cheat-like ability, and he felt slightly guilty for overshadowing his cla.s.smate's efforts by virtue of his unfairly gotten status.

It got worse when they started the combat drills. They practiced moving in formations, how to support an a.s.sociated infantry line, and what to do when fighting in close combat. Throughout the process, Mike was able to accomplish his a.s.signed tasks with the greatest of ease. Compared to some of the actual fights he'd been in, these drills were simple and straightforward. He understood that they were meant for beginners, but he was starting to resent the waste of his precious time.

Perhaps sensing his frustration, Johnathan pulled him aside at the end of cla.s.s. "I know you're probably itching to do something more productive, but I have a duty to the rest of your cla.s.smates. I need to make sure that they can fight in battle without making a fool of themselves. Partic.i.p.ating in these lessons are pointless for you, so going forward, you no longer have to attend this cla.s.s. Which, judging from the fuss you made yesterday, means that you will be likely missing the rest of your cla.s.ses for the foreseeable future."

Mike had the presence of mind to keep his features schooled, not that its seemed to help.

"It doesn't matter. At this point, there isn't much you can learn from introductory courses. If we all survive the next couple of months, I will see about getting you placed into more advanced cla.s.ses. Take the time you have now to improve yourself as you can. That said, do make sure to check in with your Summoning Magic instructor when you have time. I think she's getting a bit worried about you." Johnathan murmured with a slightly odd expression on his face. If Mike didn't know better he it could almost be mistaken for embarra.s.sment.

"I see…"

[Could he perhaps...]

"Anyway, if you feel you need someone to beat you into the ground every now and then, come to the magic combat training yard at three and a half bells, I'm usually warming up there." The instructor continued with more confidence.

"I might just do that, sir."

"On another note, there will be a meeting at the top floor of the Spire tomorrow at five bells to discuss war planning for the University. Your presence is requested due the 'faction' you represent."

"I'll be there." He replied while turning to leave through the main entrance, before thinking better of it.

Sneaking out the back door, to avoid any curious questions from his cla.s.smates, Mike headed towards the gate. He figured a trip to the Adventurer's Guild would help him come to a decision regarding materials. If he could find a decent dungeon in the region around the city, it would help with two of the things he wanted to achieve today.

After asking a few questions of the intimidating receptionist, who was helpful as usual, Mike got his hands on a map which displayed all the dungeons in the nearby region, along with a brief description of each. It seemed that there were three within a reasonable distance. The first was a water influenced one located on a nearby island, called 'The Siren's Rest.'

Due to the tendency for sections of the dungeon to flood randomly, it was rated at Rank 6 difficulty, meaning that it was recommended that only Rank 6 adventurers and above attempted the delve. Despite this challenge environment, the materials gathered there were often subpar. As such, it was considered an unpopular dungeon that only specialized delvers used.

The second was called 'The Den of The Beast,' which was an abnormally short dungeon consisting of only five layers located in the forests to the south. It had a special difficulty rating. The first four floors were Rank 4, however the fifth was Rank 7. According to the records, the majority of it was straightforward and the rewards were decent, but the final boss was always a monster of terrific strength that only the most skilled adventurers could handle. That said, it was still a relatively productive place to farm for materials, if you stick the upper floors.

The final one was called 'Lirel's Tomb.' It was closest to the capital, having sprung up in the remains of a deserted graveyard. As a Rank 3 dungeon, it was popular with the capital's adventurers, even though its undead themed monsters had a tendency to inflict nasty curses, diseases, or other harmful effects. This was likely due to the higher number of reported instances of adventurer's finding enchanted items during delves, which seemed to be a unique trait of the dungeon itself.

Mike debated on his options, before deciding to put it on hold until he'd taken care of his shopping. Perhaps the answer would come to him. He stood up from the table he'd been using and started heading to the door, only to hear a commotion in the common room.

"Attention! The Third Almiran Reserve Corps is looking for volunteers. You will be paid a minimum of 2 silver a day, and an additional 5 silver on days where you see combat. Those of higher adventurer ranks will be paid accordingly. If your contributions are particularly outstanding, the Crown has offered rewards up to 100 gold for heroics and valor on the field of battle. All of those who are interested, please line up over here."

A group of soldiers dressed in the heraldry of Almir were running a recruiting stand. Evidently, the wages were good enough to attract the attention of several of the milling guild members. Mike could see a growing number of people lining up to take the king's coin, in a manner of speaking.

[Looks like the rest of the city is starting to gear up for war. I'm honestly surprised it took this long. It almost seems like they were more concern about the consequences of a general panic than they were about actually fighting against the invaders.]

Shaking his head, he walked towards the market district, choosing to swing by Gail's store even though he hadn't made use of the ingredients he'd already gotten. The casual inspection he'd made the last time had revealed that several of the materials sold there could be used for multiple purposes. Besides, he wanted to get the old witch's advice on how to proceed with Artifice.

While he was walking, he took notice of the small signs of growing tension among the populace. Mothers shepherding their children along with faces pinched with worry. Guards looking increasingly vigilant and agitated. Men in small groups speaking in hushed tones only to fall silent when someone pa.s.sed by. Expensive carriages surrounded by well-armed guards moving towards the nearest city gates, as the wealthy abandoned the metaphorical sinking s.h.i.+p.

He suspected that if he went down to the docks, he'd see more of the rich and powerful fleeing the city. Evidently, they didn't believe the current rulers could protect them from the coming conflict.

Much like in his old world, it seemed that the burden of war was disproportionately placed upon the weak and poor. It sickened him a little when he realized, that many of the people who lived here would die simply because they couldn't afford to escape. Because they had nowhere else to go.

He thought he heard the barest whisper of a voice in the wind, "....you will stand upon a throne of corpses..."

With that unpleasant phrase ringing in his ears, Mike took a deep breath and pushed open the door to 'Alchemical Needs.'