Fallen Mage Regressor

Mal had enough experience to know where this was going. Men on horses, surrounding his carriage? It was the oldest play in the book.

Sweat broke out across his forehead. Suffice to say, this was a pretty terrible situation. He’d just gotten back to the past, he had no idea of his current abilities—if he even had any at all. His physical combat existed, sure, but at the end of the day, he was still an unarmed teenager against an entire group.

“Stop the carriage, or we’ll force you to stop!” the voice repeated from outside.

This didn’t even make any sense. How had he survived this in the original timeline?

“Lusia, I’m gonna need you to stay calm—”

He blinked.

She was gone.

A flicker of her black dress with its white frills caught the edge of his vision. She poked her body out the window of the carriage.

“Don’t worry, master,” she said, her voice muffled by the wind. “I will eliminate them for this insult.”

“Lusia, what are you doing—!?”

She pushed herself through the window and jumped forward, using the door as a foothold. There was a loud cry . . .

A male cry.

He scrambled over to the window and heard another scream. He arrived just in time to see one of the bandits tumble off the horse, blood flying through the air. Lusia was in mid-air, a dagger in hand and her momentum carrying toward the horse of the bandit she’d just killed. She landed, then jumped from the saddle toward one of the armed bandits. The horse was pushed away by her jump and gave a pained neigh while she moved through the air, her black dress fluttering in the air like the wings of a bat.

The bandit’s eyes widened to the size of saucers, and he scrambled to unsheathe his sword.

Lusia’s hand whipped through the air with a dagger that he hadn’t noticed up to this point. It cut a precise line through the bandit’s throat, and the man’s entire body stopped moving.

She repeated this manuever for the remaining four bandits, brutally removing them from the situation in quick, masterful movements.

With the last bandit, she crashed into his body, and it tumbled off the horse. Lusia, landed on the saddle in a riding position and grabbed the reins. She gently pulled to the left, bringing her right next to Mal.

What am I looking at, exactly? Mal thought.

She stood atop the saddle. Mal, now recognizing what she was about to do, backed up and gave her room. With an easy leap, she jumped through the carriage window and landed in a perfect kneel in front of Mal.

“All targets have been eliminated, master,” she said.

Mal’s jaw flapped open and shut.

What the hell had just happened?

His maid had ruthlessly eliminated about six men in the time that he could blink.

Had she always been like that?

The memories came back, distant and blurred.

Lusia technically had the position of his bodyguard, but he’d never paid much attention to her. It seemed that in his first life, he’d somehow managed to miss the fact that the title wasn’t for show.

He supposed he could imagine how it’d happened. In his first life, he probably would’ve yapped away, uncaring of whether Lusia was interested. Lusia would quickly eliminate whatever threat was about to cause a problem, then she’d return to his side before the deed was done.

It was at that moment that the tea she’d set to the side came tumbling down and spilled on the side of her dress.

Her gaze locked in place, and she didn’t make a single move.

Mal blinked. “You have something on your dress.”

At that, she started to shake in place.

“I’m aware, master.”

Were her cheeks turning red?

“Don’t worry, we’ll get it cleaned up,” Mal said.

At that, Lusia banged her head against the floor.

“My apologies, sir. I have disgraced you by my actions.”

Mal frantically shook his head. “No, it happens. You literally just saved my life!”

“They should’ve never even been this close to you, master.”

“They didn’t even get inside the carriage!”

“I should’ve eliminated them before they were within your viewing sight.”

“How in the name of all that is good and holy would you have possibly done that?!”

Lusia was about to respond when Mal caught something out of the corner of his eye, just outside the window.

Wall after wall encircled the central hill, each rising taller than the last. From the treeline, Mal could see the city spilling down the slopes—stone and slate, red banners snapping in the wind—before it met the flatlands in a long stretch of fortified outer walls. Airships moved from dock to air and vice versa like a swarm of bees around a hive. Behind it all, the sea glittered in the sun like millions of pearls.

This was Exodi.

Mal felt goosebumps run down his spine.

The universe had a hell of a sense of humor, to bring him back here once more.

Up close, the city was even more grandiose and massive. Then Mal remembered in his distant memories. Three layers of walls, each one progressively taller than the last, towered over Mal from below. A steady stream of merchants and travelers had already lined up at the gate to enter. In the sky, a river floated up into the air and vertically up the cliffside, toward the school above all else. The carriage rumbled to a halt and joined the procession.

In spite of himself, Mal could feel the hints of nostalgia for the city.

Last time he’d been here, it had been as a conqueror. He had shown up with a host of soldiers and weaponry and had managed to smash directly through the fortifications around the city. There was no time for appreciating the fine craftsmanship of the walls or the immaculate construction of the domed buildings that dotted the city’s many cliffs and hills.

Before long, they reached the gate where a guard stopped them. He had a dull expression on his face despite the resplendent uniform of silk and plate armor. Lusia produced a set of papers bearing a glowing insignia—probably some sort of way to prove their identity. The guard looked it over, then passed it back to Lusia.

“Reason for visit?” he asked

“I’m here for the Academy exam,” Mal said.

The guard sighed. “Another hopeful, huh?” He pointed directly behind himself. “The Academy is at the center of the city, just go straight, and you can’t miss it. Don’t get freaked out by the moving platforms—just follow what everybody else is doing, and you’ll be fine.”

Mal nodded. “Of course, thank you.”

The guard nodded and waved them onward.

Lusia’s face flashed with curiosity at the mention of moving platforms. Mal looked back at her with a small smirk.

“Curious?”

She didn’t respond. Mal chuckled.

“Trust me, you’ll see what he was talking about soon enough. It’s a sight to behold.” Mal paused. He didn’t want to seem like he’d been here before, since he clearly hadn’t. “That is, according to one of the books I read.”

Lusia squinted her eyes at him for this before her expression returned to normal. Mal brushed away the occurrence.

The roads were made of large white slabs of marble in the middle, while smaller slabs provided a walkway to the side. A woman in wizard garb walked down the side slabs and glanced at them. She grinned and waved at Mal.

“Best of luck!” she shouted.

An alumna. I should respond.

Mal smiled and waved back. “Thanks!”

Lusia glanced at him. “You’re in an unusually good mood.”

“Is that such a bad thing?”

“I suppose not.”

They continued straight for a few minutes before the carriage suddenly came to a stop. Mal blinked and poked his head out.

A long stream of wagons and carts carrying creatures and cages was currently occupying the intersection. One of the creatures was a hydra, its multiple snake heads hissing and crashing against the bars of the cage. Another cage held some sort of multi-headed dog, though the name of that particular breed escaped Mal’s mind at the current moment. Brata? Brutu? Bulus?

He glanced over at Lusia to see that she was unworried by the appearance of the magical beasts.

“They don’t scare you?” Mal asked.

At that, she turned and tilted her head. “We have to deal with magical beasts on occasion at home, remember? You don’t participate in the hunts, but I’ve been assigned to them on occasion.”

Mal opened his mouth into an O shape. He remembered now. While Mal’s father’s land wasn’t close to Exodi, it was still in a mana-rich environment that allowed for the formation of the occasional magical beast.

“Of course,” Mal said. “I don’t know why I said that.”

He continued to watch the steady procession. The number of magical beasts they had captured was absurd. They were probably going to be used for some kind of mass extraction, where their parts would be used for potion making.

“I know that this region is particularly mana rich, but they had to have gotten them from the Eastern Wastes,” Mal muttered.

Lusia glared at him. “It’s bad luck to speak of that land, master.”

Mal scoffed. He’d been in the Eastern Wastes a number of times to obtain rare materials and had gotten much the same reaction when he returned to his castle. His lieutenants and generals, despite their immense power and strength, still bought into the superstition that Eternus had created that area as a punishment, or that there was some strange property about the land that made it dangerous to even speak about.

“It’s not a cursed land, Lusia,” Mal said. “It’s just an abnormally mana-dense zone. There are a number of knock-on effects that make it an absolutely terrible place to live, but there’s nothing supernatural about the place.”

“But then why are the monsters so dangerous there?” Lusia’s eyes widened, and she bowed her head. “Forgive my insolence, master.”

“No, it’s a valid question. You don’t have to worry about it.” Mal crossed his legs and thought for a moment.

He’d done a number of lectures for his soldiers. Though he’d never been formally trained in the art of teaching, it was important to be able to pass on his knowledge. After all, an army fell by its weakest link. As such, he spent a great deal of time studying how to best explain information and how to put together his thoughts on the spot.

“It really just comes down to the density of magic,” he said. “There’s nothing more to it. When enough aligned mana is allowed to fester in the same place, it has a chance of taking form—a form influenced by the physical properties of the landscape around it along with the alignment of the mana. The denser the mana, the more powerful the creature.” Mal took a sniff, noting the sterile smell of the mana in the air right now. “The exception, of course, is the unaligned mana that us wizards use. Due to its purity, it’s not susceptible to the same processes that aligned mana is susceptible to.”

The procession was almost done. One more cart.

Mal’s tone turned dark. “Supernatural or not, they’re tempting fate by traveling there. Really, this whole city is the dream of either a madman or a genius.”

Lusia’s curious gaze looked at him, but this time, Mal chose not to elaborate.

The reason Mal had been able to take the city had been due to an absolutely horrendous attack from the Eastern Wastes that had struck during his third year. Dragons had dotted the sky like locusts. An enormous leviathan, half the size of the city, had thrown itself over the sea walls. They’d somehow coordinated and used smaller sea creatures to transport monsters across the water from the Eastern Wastes to the holes opened up by the leviathan.

That day, every student had been mobilized as an emergency defense force. Even the first years, who had just learned the most basic of spells, had been drafted into a reserve unit. The wards on the Academy had barely managed to hold up, stuck together by the faculty with the equivalent of magical duct tape.

Headmaster Puck had managed to rally an effective defense force of the strongest wizards in the city and drive off the invaders, but the damage had been done. An unholy death toll, enormous damage to the wards and fortifications, and the loss of most of the city’s rare magical materials.

Really, when Mal had come along, most of the work had already been done.

That wasn’t to say the city didn’t serve a purpose, however. The high levels of ambient mana made spellcasting particularly easy here. There was a reason Exodi Academy was considered the most prestigious of all the magical academies. The extra mana allowed for easier spellcasting, easier spellcasting allowed for more practice. More practice resulted in better mages.

And without the city, the magical beasts would’ve been left unchecked. They would’ve been able to stream all across the kingdom and wreak untold havoc. In many ways, calling this place a city was a misnomer. This was a strategic fortress, designed to check a potential invasion by the magical beasts.

But still…

After the attack, Mal had remembered being on top of the Academy walls and seeing the Eastern Wastes across the ocean, and realizing that it was only a three-minute boat ride away.

Three minutes were between this place and all the horrors the world had to offer.

He clenched his fist.

This time, he would stop it. He wasn’t sure how, he wasn’t sure when to start. But he knew that there had to be a way to prevent that attack from ever succeeding.

The carriage moved forward.

Mal stared at Lusia as she looked up and down the perfectly vertical cliffside where multiple buildings had been built into the wall. The cliffside had been almost entirely replaced with the white marble stone that was used for most of the construction in the city. Little windows dotted the stone, indicating that people lived inside.

“The guard said to go straight on,” Lusia muttered. “But I don’t see how we’re supposed to go directly up.”

Mal grinned and hid it behind his hand. It was always so amusing when people came here for the first time and found out about this particular factoid.

“Oh, just wait. Give it a moment,” Mal said.

Lusia opened her mouth to say something when the carriage rocked back and forth. Lusia’s eyes widened by a fraction.

“An attack?” Lusia reached for her daggers.

“Relax, just enjoy the show,” Mal said. “Seriously, it’s not an attack.”

Lusia turned and gave him another confused look before she hesitantly nodded and rested her hands.

The carriage jolted again, and Lusia had to visibly restrain herself from jumping forward and doing . . . well, Mal wasn’t sure what she would do.

Mal’s stomach dropped, and his head went light.

Good, that meant they were going up.

The buildings outside the window seemed to move downward and sink into the ground. Lusia stared at it for a moment before she did a double take and then poked her head out of the carriage.

Despite having done this a hundred times, Mal couldn’t help himself and did the same on the opposite window.

The marble slab that had been directly underneath them was moving upward.

Lusia’s face went pale. She hurried back into the middle of the carriage and dropped to the floor, her hand held over her mouth.

Mal let out a chuckle. Some people had a bad reaction the first time, but he was sure that, given Lusia’s aerial superiority, she would appreciate it when she’d been on a few more times.

She glowered at Mal like he’d just murdered a dog. He raised his hands up in surrender.

The slab continued to flow through the air before it reached the next level of the city. It then moved sideways and inserted into a slot on the edge of the city level.

The carriage moved forward, taking them off the slab and onto solid ground again.

“Is it over?” Lusia looked at Mal.

Mal nodded. “Yeah, we’re done.”

She pushed herself off the ground, her knees wobbling, and fell back into the seat with a thud.

“Master, why were you not terrified?” she said.

“Oh, I was just excited. I’m sure that under normal circumstances I would have been scared,” Mal lied as easily as he breathed.

He paused. “By the way, we’ll have to do that about three more times.”

Lusia’s face fell—though for her, it was more of a mild frown combined with slight tightening around the eyes. Still, Mal couldn’t help but snicker at her expense.

He really needed to get a hold of himself.

A loud explosion rocked the carriage and Mal was thrown forward. Lusia managed to grab onto the window as support.

Mal’s heart leapt in his chest and his face twisted into a frown.

“What the hell was that?” he muttered. He stepped over to the window.

The academy was just in view, and one of the buildings on campus was on fire.

“Is it an attack?” Lusia’s voice was tight, controlled. “We need to flee—“

“It’s not an attack. We’d hear the city warning bells going off if that were the case,” Mal said.

Lusia’s eyebrows furrowed. “Then what was that?”

“The students.” He grimaced. “Actually, it’s probably one of the professors.”

Lusia looked at him in obvious confusion. Mal didn’t care. He’d forgotten something very key about his plan to go back to school.

All the people here are completely nuts.

The academy’s walls faded off just a scant few feet over Mal’s head. They were made of cold, old stone, with lichen and moss growing along the outside. Just past the walls, a handful of buildings poked their heads over the top—spires and various sloped roofs—greeting Mal. The river that Mal had seen earlier passed over top the wall and into a large building—the laundry room, most likely.

And in the middle, a massive building with a spire towered over everything else surrounding it. A single gold bell sat on the top of the hall, its light catching the sun.

“Excuse me, can you please move?”

It was just now that Mal realized he had been standing in front of the entrance, blocking the way for other applicants.

“My apologies.” Mal stepped to the side, allowing the individual with their servant to move past him and into the courtyard of the campus.

“Applicants this way,” a voice yelled out from the inside. “Applicants, please come this way!”

Mal slipped to the back of the line and waited quietly. Lusia broke off toward the carriage and reached into a compartment on the side. She pulled on something and drew out a large briefcase. She reached in with her other hand and pulled out another briefcase. After that was done, she waddled back over to Mal, not a hint of strain on her despite the seemingly heavy load.

Mal looked over at her briefcases. “What are those?”

“Your items, master,” Lusia said, adjusting her grip on the briefcases. “When they assign dormitories, I’ll bring these and put them on your floor.”

Mal reached up and scratched his head. “I don’t think you have to stick by me, if that’s what you’re planning. Why don’t you go on ahead and ask about some kind of area for the servants? Maybe they even have some food.”

She furrowed her eyebrows. “You want me to go on ahead so I can… eat?”

“Is that really that surprising?”

She side-eyed him, a hint of contempt in her expression. “You’re not usually this concerned about my well-being.”

Mal winced. He really had been a massive asshole back in his first life, hadn’t he? Not just evil, but a plain old jerk.

There were reasons for this, of course. He hadn’t received much kindness back at home, so he took it out on the people around him, Lusia included.

But he’d forgotten the extent. The fact that she was surprised by him merely asking if she wanted to go on ahead showed that he’d been a truly callous individual.

“Do as you will,” Mal said.

She nodded.

A second later, the briefcase clicked open and Mal’s clothes spilled onto the ground in a massive heap. At the top of the clothes mountain, Mal’s underwear crowned the whole thing, its black threads a sharp contrast to the white dress shirt directly and pants underneath it.

Lusia stared at the pile, the tips of her ears turning a noticable red. A girl off to the side snickered. A young man scoffed and turned away.

Mal scratched his chin. “We should probably clean this up, huh?”

Lusia’s arms whipped through the air and she stuffed every single item clothing back into the briefcase. She clipped it shut, then stood back up as if nothing had happened.

“Apologies, master,” she said.

Mal raised an eyebrow and shook his head. His attention wandered to the people around him. There were individuals from all over the world—some brown-skinned, some pale-skinned, a handful of elves and draconids. Mal even saw one or two dwarves.

The kingdom of Chama is mostly human, yet the magic academy has a wide variety of species, even pseudo-magical beasts like draconids, he thought. I wonder if this is the case for most magic academies? Magic academies are rare, only about three or four on this continent. It could be that because the options are so limited, it encourages a great deal of diversity.

Mal wondered if he was going to see the heroine, or perhaps Rolam and Philo. He remembered the latter two—the memories were old and a little bit twisted. He recalled taking any opportunity he could to insult the halfbreed and the oversized lizard. The reason was simple: they were both acceptable targets. There were no consequences for being rude or mean to them. The teachers didn’t seem to particularly care, and the student body didn’t mind either.

The question was what Mal was going to do this time around.

Probably just stay out of their way, he thought to himself. They get into all sorts of trouble during their time here at the academy—dark magic, fighting evil wizards. Best if I stay out of it.

The biggest issue was the heroine. He had to find her soon and either eliminate her or ensure she wouldn’t become a threat.

Luckily, Mal was deeply acquainted with the heroine’s magic signature.

He took a sniff and almost threw up. He was being overwhelmed by the sheer number of mana signatures in this area.

But no heroine. It seemed she hadn’t arrived here, yet.

No matter. He’d find her eventually.

By this point, Mal and Lusia were right at the wall in front of the gate. Two individuals wearing thick, mana-blue clothing with a number of frills watched Mal and Lusia with weary eyes.

Keepers of the Wall, Mal thought. The school’s security force.

He hadn’t had many encounters with them as a student. They played the part of silent guardians, appearing when necessary and disappearing when not.

They passed into the inside of the gate. It was an arched opening with various engravings written on the inside. As Mal passed through, he noticed a foreign presence rub up against his core.

He looked up toward the ceiling, where a dim light seemed to shine from the words inscribed into it. He couldn’t quite make out the words, faded as they were. He vaguely recalled their function.

Lusia stiffened behind him. He could tell from the way her footsteps stopped. She then resumed walking as if nothing had happened.

“You picked up on it too?” Mal turned his head back.

“Picked up on what?”

“The runes they’ve got on the ceiling.” Mal tilted his head up and pointed at the glowing runes. “That’s what gave you the funny little shiver.”

Lusia tilted her head by just the slightest of margins. There was the faintest glimmer of curiosity, and she opened her mouth as if to speak. At the last second, she closed it.

“I see.”

“If you want to ask questions, you can. I may not have all the answers, but I’ll try to give you what I know.”

She bowed her head, her expression blank. “It would be improper, master. As a servant, my role is to assist you and remain silent.”

“Why? There’s nothing wrong with asking questions.”

Lusia’s shoulders stiffened. “It’s my job, master. This is part of my duty.”

Mal wanted to continue to press, but—

“Next, please!” A loud shout pierced Mal’s thoughts. He looked down to see a floating book with a quill writing into it. There was no hand nor person to man the book and quill. It was doing all this autonomously, surrounded by a faint blue glow.

“Name?” the book said.

“Ah, a spirit. It’s been some time since I’ve seen one of you.” Mal took a few steps closer to the book, and it backed away automatically. “How long is your pact?”

The book made a snorting noise and it’s quill shook with the motion.

“You’re a cocky one, aren’t you?” the book said. “To answer your question, it’s ten years. In exchange, I’ll be receiving a lifetime supply of elder root. Tastes good and does wonders for my magical development.”

“Elder root?” Mal rubbed his chin. “Yes, I remember that. It’s a fairly common herb, its main benefit is that it acts as a catalyst. Speeds up fermentation, releases the magical properties of the ingredients into a brew.”

Mal hadn’t used Elder root very often in his first life. He’d upgraded to stronger catalysts harvested from powerful magical beasts very early on, so the lesser plant was something of a curiosity to him.

The book let out a laugh. “You have a rather curious mind, don’t you? Most people wouldn’t mention the mundane things, nor would they understand that it’s a catalyst. They would just say that it’s something used for enhancing magic or that it’s a fundamental herb for any basic potion. Cassandra is going to love you.” The book paused. “No, actually, she’ll hate you, unfortunately. Still, she’ll probably recognize your talent.”

Mal waved the book off. “Not really talent. I just picked up a few things.”

Right as Mal was about to continue the conversation, there was a loud cough from behind him. Mal looked back to see that there were about a dozen people all glaring at him.

He looked back and laughed. “As much as I’m enjoying this conversation, I’m afraid we’ll have to cut it short.”

The book stopped moving from place to place, and the quill hovered down to an empty space on the page. “I quite agree, I quite agree,” the book said. “Now then, what’s your name?”

“Malfrasius Patoal,” he said. “But you can call me Mal.”

The quill scratched against the paper with a few quick motions. It hummed and flipped through its pages, arriving at a set of numbers.

“Your written score is surprisingly low,” the book said. “I wouldn’t expect that from someone with such interest in the art of potion making.”

Mal tried to recall the written exam. It’d been years ago, but he remembered the proctor showing up at his home going through it. If he recalled correctly, he’d spent maybe a week studying intermittedly?

And then he arrived here and barely made it through the practicals. His father had to have been pushing for him to make it in.

“I’m not the best test-taker,” Mal said.

The book waved up and down. “I understand.” It turned, its pages facing toward Lusia. “And I assume that’s your servant, correct?”

Mal nodded. “Yes, her name is Lusia. Lusia…”

Mal trailed off when he realized that he didn’t actually remember Lusia’s last name. He turned and looked at her, head tilted.

“What’s your last name?” he asked.

Lusia shook her head and adjusted her grip on the briefcases. Mal was once again tempted to ask if he could take one of them, but he very much suspected she would refuse.

“I don’t have a last name. I’m a commoner.”

The book waved up and down, like a person nodding. “I see, I see. Thank you very much for complying. Please continue to the right. There, you will find temporary lodgings until the day of the examination tomorrow. Your assigned room is C23. Your servant’s assigned room is F45.”

Mal idly took note of the fact that the book hadn’t directly spoken to Lusia there. Instead, it addressed her through him.

How odd, he thought to himself. I wouldn’t expect the spirit to be so focused on class divides. Or was it something else?

Two cards flashed into existence in front of the book, suspended in mid-air. They lit up and the cards keys floated over to Mal and Lusia.

Mal grabbed his card out of the air while Lusia let it drop into her hand.

“Remember, these are Exodi keys. Tap it against the lock. You’ll understand what I mean when you see it. Follow the line of students heading off.” The book’s voice raised. “Next applicant!”

Mal whispered a quick thank-you to the book and headed off to the right. In the distance, he could make out several low, two-story buildings, lined up row after row. They were made in the same arched style as the main buildings: painted walls, wooden frames.

He took a sniff. No heroine… but there was magic in the air. A hint of aligned mana. Wild magic plants growing on campus—how interesting. He’d never noticed that during his school years. He’d have to explore around and see if there was anything interesting to use for potion-brewing—though he’d have to get a bowl for crushing and mixing herbs, and that might be tricky.

His attention turned back to the buildings ahead. Mal idly wondered what the school did with the dormitories during the rest of the year when there were no examinations going on. Mal found it doubtful that the school simply loaned them out for random people to use. Presumably, they had better dormitories for the actual students who would be accepted into the school.

Mal shook his head. He’d figure it out at a later time.

As he got closer to the dormitories, his mind wandered back to Rolam and Philo. In his time, they’d both become legends: a half-elf who had defied all the odds and become one of the deadliest spellcasters on the planet, and a draconid who’d managed to find companionship among humans. Mal remembered them being weaker during this time—after all, how would he have bullied them otherwise?

A loud shout drew him out of his thoughts.

“Shut up! You know nothing about my family!”

A dry snicker. “I know enough. You probably couldn’t cut it at an academy for elves, so you decided to come over here, expecting it to be easier, right?”

“T—that’s not true!”

Mal’s eyes narrowed.

What perfect timing. To see such a familiar face, and so early into the school year.