Fallen Mage Regressor

There was another crack. The sound of wood being splintered. Mal took a step back on instinct.

Aston held out his hand and a sheathed sword materialized in front of him. It was time to see whether his former officer was as good as he used to be, before Mal had met him.

Rolam's eyebrow shot up. "How did you do that?"

"Dimensional storage," Aston said. "You'll probably learn about it in one of your classes."

He ran over back to the entrance, then stopped and looked back at them. "Stay here," he said. "I'll not have the lives of a bunch of children resting on my conscience."

Rolam's nose twitched. "But—"

"Stay!" He slammed the door shut and ran back and the sound of rapidly disappearing footsteps faded away.

Mal, Rolam, Philo, and Lusia all glanced at each other.

"We're not planning to listen to him, are we?" Rolam said.

"Of course not," Philo responded.

"This seems unwise." Lusia stared at the two with her usual blank expression.

"Arguably, we're not safe here, either," Mal said. "This area lies at an intersection, and this'll likely be one of the first places they check."

Lusia tilted her head, then nodded.

"Acknowledged," she said. "Let us find a safer location."

Mal was partially telling the truth, but he also wanted a chance to have some action against pirates. It sounded like a good time, and he very much doubted that they would be in serious danger given the quality of the crew.

"Shouldn't we defend the core?" Rolam asked.

Philo shook his head. "This area is warded and protected heavily, and there's no benefit to doing so, anyway. Cores are rigged to self-destruct if stolen."

"That seems unsafe."

"Yes, but it brings down theft by quite a bit."

The group turned a corner and walked down the wooden steps for a little bit of time. Then, abruptly, an iron rod pierced through the floor and fanned out with thin iron hooks . It fell back down, but the fanned-out edges caught the wood and prevented it from going down.

"Here comes company," Mal said.

A few seconds later, there was a slamming thud, then a splinter, then a section of the floor was cracked inward and a head poked out and looked at them. It was a man dressed in an eye patch and a bandana. He leaped upward and landed on his feet, then unsheathed his sword.

"Passengers down here?" he said. "You four are unlucky."

"So you're a bunch of pirates, yes?" Mal said.

The man growled. "Shut up. You four are coming with me. You’re going to line up, then you're going to jump through that hole where we’ve got a slowing spell active to make sure you don't break your head on impact."

He licked his lips and looked at Lusia. "The girl will go last."

A pause.

Mal wasn't quite sure what had happened.

One second, he was standing opposite a pirate. The next, his Nettleleaf dagger had been driven into the man's shoulder.

The pirate looked at Mal, then at the dagger, almost as if he couldn't quite believe what he'd seen.

Mal pulled the dagger out, then kicked the man into the open hole. He collided with another man who'd been climbing up and the two of them fell onto the deck with a thud.

Mal observed the ship below. It was about half the size of the airship they were currently on. It was evident that it had gone through a lot—the sails were ripped and torn in various places, and sections of the deck had outright collapsed.

Of greater concern, however, was the three or four pirates who'd taken to climbing up the rope and were shouting insults at Mal.

Mal took his knife and sawed into the rope.

The pirates increased their efforts. The rope snapped and all of them fell onto the deck.

He hopped over the hole and glanced back at the group. "Let's keep going."

Both Rolam and Philo cast a funny look at Mal. Mal ignored them and turned around to keep walking.

"We don't have time to waste," he called out."

Lusia jumped and took up her place a few steps away from him. Eventually, Philo and Rolam shook off their stupor and dashed behind Mal as they ran through the ship. Mal sped up in response.

"You're rather protective of her, aren't you?" Rolam panted out between breaths.

Mal furrowed his eyebrows together. "What?"

Rolam shook his head and chuckled. "Nothing."

The sounds of fighting entered their ears. Steel against steel, and more than a few blasts of fire and wind. They ran forward until they reached an open doorway on deck. It was swarming with pirates who vastly outnumbered the crew.

"They came up from below," Mal said. "How did they end up on deck?"

"Never mind that, we need to help!" Rolam said.

Mal nodded and ran forward. The Bramblevine bracelet on his wrist chafed against his skin. He had no access to plants up here, but he could still use some of the items that he’d cultivated.

His footsteps were soundless thanks to his Airgrass boots. And what's more, with the amount of air they'd been storing up from being so high up in the sky...

Mal jumped up and swung his leg around in a kick toward the side of one of the pirates. The pirate saw him out of the corner of his eye and brought up a scimitar for his guard.

The active ability in Mal's boot kicked in and his foot rocketed forward at unbelievable speed. His boot blew through the scimitar and into the collarbone of the pirate. There was an audible crack. The pirate fell backward in a soundless scream. The scimitar fell to the ground with a clatter and Mal was almost tempted to pick it up and swing it around if not for the fact that it was visibly dented from the force of Mal’s attack.

The crewmate wiped the sweat off his forehead, then nodded at him.

"Thanks for the save." He shook his head. "You Exodi students are really something else, aren't you?"

Mal took a little bit of offense to that, as he was far more than a mere Exodi student, but there wasn't really a point in disputing this.

A roar snapped him out of his deliberation. An axe swung for his head and Mal calculated what he would need to do.

Perhaps this would be a good opportunity to test Cornelias’s physical barrier—

And then reality kicked in and Mal remembered that something that complex would be nigh impossible for him to cast.

He grimaced and kicked off the ground, a gust of wind aiding him and pushing him away faster than he had any right to move. The axe swung down and embedded itself into the wooden flooring. Mal reared back his leg and launched yet another kick. It was just as strong as the last one. When it hit the man’s side, something along the rib cage caved inward with a sound like a cracked egg. The man staggered backward and fell to the ground.

A wave of magical energy flew into the air and cut through a cirrus cloud. Out of the corner of his eye, Mal caught Aston locked in combat against one of the pirates up near the helm of the ship. It was clear based off the trinkets and robes on the pirate's outfit that he was a fellow mage. The mage jumped back and launched an arcane sphere—no, a bolt—at Aston. Aston ducked underneath the attack and slashed out his blade. Another blast of energy flew out from the blade and impacted against a shield summoned up by the mage at the last second.

Philo was locked in combat against two pirates, his superior durability giving him wiggle room. To Mal's side, a pirate toppled over the railing with a scream.

Rolam wiped the sweat from his forehead, a smug grin on his face.

"It is the duty of a nobleman to serve the people in whatever way is necessary," he said.

Mal was about to roll his eyes and ask a question when Rolam's vision shot over to Aston.

"He’s casting spells with a sword?"

Oh, Rolam had never seen someone like Aston?

"He’s a spellsword," Mal said. "The most physically focused of the three main mage specializations."

"Mage specializations?"

"You haven’t been paying attention in class in the slightest, have you?"

Before Rolam could protest his innocence, a small group of pirates noticed they were not locked in combat and rushed toward them, blades raised. Mal felt the air thrum around his boot. He could sense that there was practically no cooldown time. The wind was constantly recharging it when they were up here.

Right when Mal was about to step forward, a black-robed figure slammed into the side of one and the pirate went down.

The white apron made Mal realize that it wasn’t a robe, but a dress. Lusia brought out twin daggers hidden beneath her sleeves and aimed a precise stab at another pirate. The pirate managed to parry—

And then abruptly, the parried dagger shot forward, flew out of Lusia’s hand, and embedded itself into the man’s side.

Ah, creative, Mal thought. She flooded her dagger with kinetic energy and instantly turned it into a ranged weapon.

...

I should probably be worried about that.

The heroine had learned on the job at an unbelievable pace. And now Lusia would have years of training that the heroine didn’t get the chance to have. By the end of Mal’s term at school and around the time when he’d conquered the world in the future-past, the Lusia of this timeline will have far outstripped her previous timeline self.

Because I didn’t have enough things to worry about, Mal thought.

The fight was winding down.

There were several dead pirate bodies on the ship and comparatively very few crew members. Several of the pirates had taken to running back into the bowels of the ship, presumably, or had just jumped off and prayed that they would hit their own ship.

"I’m almost a little disappointed," Mal said. "This all felt a little anticlimactic."

And that was when, predictably, things went horribly wrong. Out of the corner of his eye, Mal realized that Aston was being snuck up on. And the arcane spears in the hands of the two who were sneaking up on him indicated that they were no ordinary pirates. Mal broke off into a sprint, his footsteps soundless. He jumped into the air with a gust of wind at his feet, the Airgrass boots propelling him farther than he had any right to move. His heel met the skull of one of them, but the other, panicked, shot out an arcane spear at Aston while he was still in his duel with the other mage. Aston suddenly turned back and threw himself to the side—but he’d been just a hair too slow.

Or at least that was what Mal had thought.

Aston pivoted his blade and sliced through the Arcane Sphere in a single smooth motion. The mana cleaved around him. Disippated in the air.

Mal was just about to praise the man out loud—

And then the ship lurched.

A horrible groaning noise went out and the entire thing began to descend.

Rolam paled and stepped back. "Did the pirates attack the core room?"

Mal shook his head. "They’re under us. They’re going to get caught up in this as well, and besides, there’s no reason for them to do so."

"Then what’s happening?"

The entire ship turned into a precarious forward tilt. There was a loud thud and Mal knew that they’d crashed into the pirate ship below.

"It’s quite simple," Mal said. "A small difference in weight distribution results in enormous changes. And for a core as old and cheap as that, and for a ship as unmaintained as this, that’s a death sentence."

Philo looked absurdly pleased with his knowledge being quoted, then quickly seemed to realize the terror of the situation and wrapped himself around the mast. Panicking, Rolam did the same thing.

"Lusia," he said. "Find a dozen solid objects and have it on you when we hit the ground."

"Master?"

"You’re going to channel your kinetic energy into the objects, slowly bleeding momentum" he said. "With any luck, that should be enough to keep you alive."

Mal hadn't come up with the technique, of course. He'd merely had the chance to watch the heroine at work.

"What of you, Master?"

"I have a few tricks up my own sleeve. I’ll be fine."

Her gaze was a little sharper than before, and Mal suspected that she knew he was exaggerating. Nonetheless, she did as he told her and picked up several steel weapons.

Oh, she’s going to have multiple attempts. Smart.

Mal, meanwhile, was going to use his air boots to try to jump off the side of the ship and bleed his momentum via sideways movement. If he rolled properly, he’d get a bunch of scrapes, but would hopefully avoid any broken bones. With Rolam and Philo, he was counting on their natural physical resilience. Philo was a draconid, and his scales would be strong enough to weather what was about to come. Rolam was a kinesthetics prodigy and was absurdly strong, especially given his heritage as an elf.

The ship cut through a cloud and Mal could see the ground. It was still a light blue, that distant shade that occurred when you were far from land.

But the colors were rapidly returning to normal. Mal could make out trees. They were going to land in a forest. Mal would have to time it so that he’d jump off and hit the foliage. All of the leaves would help slow him down.

This is survivable, he thought. I just need to keep a level head.

Closer.

Closer.

The leaves were a dark, verdant green. Mal stepped over to the railing and breathed in and out.

It wouldn’t be long now. Philo and Rolam held on tighter to the mast. Lusia tightened her grip around her stolen steel swords. A few of the crewmates were screaming and hugging the masts or the railing. Mal waited...

He stepped up and balanced precariously on the edge—

Then jumped off.

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