Chapter 5: Future

Tabs appeared in a holographic window in front of Michael. Somehow he only received weird looks for his new eyewear, so far no one had asked him about it, including his father.

[Geography] [History] [Runes] [Languages] [Potioneering] [Herbology] [Mineralogy]

[Tool Refining] [Bestiary] [Energies] [Anatomy] [Spells] [Meditations] [Miscellaneous]

As a lot of information was introduced and stored in the Mother Box's information bank, a new set of files was created. Now it was more comprehensive and better divided. With Michael's command a new set of information, two files, extracted and synthesized from the existing, emerged.

[Byron Language] [Runic Blood Warrior]

The plan that the Mother Box created was made with his father in mind. The only method he currently held to increase his strength by his lonesome would be knight breathing methods, but that held subpar results and would take quite a bit of time. Now, if you had the assistance of a Rank 1 Magus, the doors to many other methods would be opened wide.

The plan contained several steps to not only ensure his safety, but to become stronger in the least amount of time.

A Runic Blood Warrior was an incomplete inheritance his father held in his library. It was an ancient sub-class of Magi like the Branded Swordsman and the Elemental Bard. Still it differed with the Branded Swordsman, as it did not require a Spell Formation being branded into the body. Due to this it did not have magical properties, making it less known and distinguished in the eras overshadowed by Magi and Warlocks.

The Runic Blood Warrior was a physical warrior, its methods focused on increasing the bodily strength through Blood Runes made from the blood of physically strong beasts. The strength and vitality of a beast would be held partially in the blood which would then be used to inscribe a runic pattern that would increase the user's bodily strength instantly. It would also passively nurture the body, increasing the warrior's strength every day.

All this required his father, so while he was handling some matters underground Michael went to a seating area outside his father's study.

'Mother Box, add the Byron Language and the improved inheritance Runic Blood Warrior into my soul.'

'Ping!'

Following the familiar sound, Michael fell asleep once more. Thanks to his precaution he lay soundly on a leather couch.

"Hey, hey, son. Wake up, I need to speak to you."

About 7 hours later, Michael awoke to soft whispers and his body being shaken softly.

Closing and opening his eyes Michael snapped himself out of his daze. A thin strand of saliva fell from his mouth to the small puddle on the leather couch.

"Ooh, my bad, I'll clean that up later."

Arthur looked at him, lost in thought. His son's form of address had changed quite a bit. He used to call him dad, but that was a while ago. Due to his son's poor talent and his wife's passing he had not spoken to his son in a while, and even then it was perfunctory.

"It's okay, follow me to the study, I need to tell you some things."

No more words were spoken between them along the way, the silence deafening.

"You saw that mangled dark elf I brought in?"

"Yes, your arm, what happened?"

Arthur felt his heart tighten as he saw his son's concern. A small smile grew and he assured his son that he would be alright. A magus had many methods, so transplanting an arm or growing one out would not be impossible. A mage's methods were oh so wonderful.

"As it turns out your uncle has been working with dark elves. He is a fucking idiot if he thought the elves were going to give him a Golden Spirit Potion. That elf gave me enough information."

"Wait, father, didn't Leylin Farlier defeat the dark elves in the Great War?"

Michael was a bit confused regarding the dark elves.

"According to some rumors going about, Leylin Farlier is not in the Twilight Zone. It seems he found a way to leave. In his absence the dark elves have grown bold and tried to rebel. Because they are few in number they will not be able to topple humanity, but they still might be able to cause some death here and there."

"Ahh."

Michael was only able to react passively as he didn't want to accidentally say anything he wasn't supposed to.

"I'll be going out in a bit to visit the other Magi, with a bit of work their plans will get dismantled. And, I'm sorry, you won't be going to the Academy any time soon. Even though I got you a special acceptance with my friends over there to study, with the possibility of our family being connected with the rebels, they won't treat you well over there. I hope you understand, you can go through the library upstairs in the meantime."

Towards the end his father looked guilty, averting his gaze as he informed him of a crushing truth.

His son had been sending letters to the Academy for a couple years now, begging for an opportunity, after hearing about this from his old buddies in the Academy he intervened and snatched him a seat. After this he heard from the servants of his sons improved mood and hopeful eyes. Now, due to his negligence and his brother's stupidity this opportunity was once again out of his hands.

"O-okay, I'll be leaving then. If you're hungry just go to the fourth floor, there's a pantry and kitchen there. You can make yourself what you like there."

With that last message, Arthur left as Michael changed his dumbstruck and helpless expression into a calculative one.

'This guilt is good, it'll make things easy for the next step.'

Making his way up the stairs to the fourth floor, the tower's kitchen, Michael reminisced over his available cuisine in America. It was a place with an amalgamation of cultures, food of all kinds were at any person's behest. Some fried chicken and french fries would be perfect right now.

Arriving at the pantry, Michael found it to be full of ingredients and carbohydrates. Going through the spices, he found salt and pepper powders. In a corner of the pantry, a fridge of sorts stood. Through runes and magic it kept the meats and eggs cool and fresh.

After an intense cooking session, Michael sat at the dining table with a pleased expression. Some steak, eggs, and fruit juice were all assorted on the table. With some actual seasoning the food was finally tasty. The meat was both tender with a nice crust, the eggs were fluffy and spicy, while the fruit juice made of some sort of melon was sweet and light.

After a full belly and a burp of satisfaction, Michael looked at the ceiling dazedly. It hadn't been more than a few days and he had gone through quite a bit. He became accustomed quickly because this transmigration thing wasn't new to him. He had dreamt and read of this situation so many times in the past, that it'd be silly to count.

The thought had both excited him and caused him some fear. He had left his family all of a sudden. He looked guiltily as a tear fell from his eye and he thought of the reactions to his sudden death back at home.

A determined look appeared in his eyes as he felt sudden relief.

'I'm going to be a fucking mage. Later on it'll definitely be possible to see them once again.'

So far he had simply been going through the motions, keeping himself safe and making some temporary goals. Now, as he thought of the future he decided to become a strong mage. He would not be held by the laws of this world and he would return, regardless of the struggle and things he had to do.