Wearing Power Armor to a Magic School (72/?) WiP 1 (Patreon)

Hey everyone! Here is the Work in Progress for Chapter 72 I hope you guys enjoy! :D

KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK!

Those three, distinct, hammer-like noises sent chills down my spine.

I didn’t know what it was.

But over the course of the week, I’ve come to increasingly dread these unexpected, unannounced, completely unscheduled interruptions to the only safe haven we’ve been able to carve out of this hostile world.

Maybe it was because there was never any way of telling what you could expect on the other side.

Or maybe, it was just because half of the time, those knocks always acted as a prelude to another curveball that needed to be addressed; an unexpected problem that needed to be resolved.

Whatever the case was, I began sprinting into action the second those knocks ended.

“Ilunor.” I began, prompting the Vunerian to nod affirmatively in acknowledgement. “I need you to perform one of your tricks. Can you cast that invisibility field around the whole setup again?”

A brief mana radiation warning marked his response, as for the first time, he actually committed to responding with his actions first, and words later. “A trivial task.” He added cockily, that smug grin somehow managing to expertly hide the growing nervousness stirring beneath the surface.

Sure enough, a brief glance towards the balcony yielded nothing. No drones, no signal amplifier, not even the cable that ran along the floors to power the whole setup.

I turned to Ilunor with a begrudging look of appreciation. “Good job Iunor.”

Following that up with a silent closure of the balcony doors and a drawing of the curtains made all our problems disappear, at least for now.

“Alright.” I hyped myself up, taking those tentative steps towards the door… but not before turning to Ilunor one final time. “Just act natural.” I ordered.

“Oh please, Emma Booker. I practically live for these acts of theater.” He responded. And… true to his word, I could barely detect a hint of fear or concern beneath that thick layer of pomp and circumstance.

If this whole letter mission went up in smoke, and you lost your noble titles, I swear you could make a good enough living working at whatever your equivalent of broadway is. I thought to myself, just as my hand reached for the door, gripping its ornate door handle. With a solid inhale, and a sharp satisfying ka-clink, I opened the door to reveal…

Not Vanavan.

Or any other professor.

Not even Larial.

But a face that I otherwise immediately recognized.

And one that looked none too pleased to see our group.

It was that eccentric elf bridge-guard from a few nights before.

“OH!” The bridge-guard apprentice announced. “It's you lot.” He immediately turned his nose up, his eyes averting from my lenses.

“May I help you…” I trailed off, realizing the EVI hadn’t flashed a nametag next to him. This mere momentary lapse in conversation seemed to be all the incentive the man needed to fill in the blanks, all the while maintaining that frustrated look of annoyance that continued to dominate his expression.

“Apprentice Ral Altaria Del Narya Sey Antisonzia the Second!” He announced proudly, balling up both of his hands before placing them by his hips in a heroic pose, causing his cloak to unfurl and swoosh out to his sides.

A swift surge of mana radiation caused a gust of wind to flutter it about in the otherwise windless corridor.

“Right.” I nodded. “Apologies Apprentice Ral Altaria Del Narya Sey Anisonzia the Second.”

“Apologies noted and accounted for, you cantankerous creature.” He responded with a small look of smug satisfaction on his face.

That response… strangely enough, didn’t necessarily bother me. Because the man, for all his boisterous bluster, just felt like a big joke about half the time he spoke.

Though that still didn’t stop me from taking him as a legitimate threat, given his assigned position and responsibilities.

“So, how may I help you?”

“That depends…” The man paused, manifesting a previously unseen clipboard to the ping of another mana radiation warning, as he began flipping through its otherwise blank pages. “... Cadet Emma Booker of Earthrealm now is it?”

“Yes, that’s me.”

“Well, Cadet Emma Booker of Earthrealm. I am here, first and foremost, to execute my duties as an apprentice and a ward of this tower; to administer a wellness check.”

“Oh, I’m quite alright, thanks for asking-”

“No! Not for your sake you insolent suit of animated armor! But for the sake of your fellows.” He gestured to his left and right, at the hallways and the stairs that led down from the top floor of the tower. “I have received reports of an active and deliberate disruption to the general peace. Tell me Cadet Emma Booker of Earthrealm, have you or have you not-” The man paused, looking left and right haphazardly and frantically, before leaning in closely, practically an inch from my face.

My heart skipped a beat, as I was about ready to have my entire operations unraveled right before my eyes.

“-observed anything over the course of your night through your windows? Any… ghostly premonitions of an invisible avian predator? Any near-silent whooshing and buzzing followed closely by a disembodied arm chasing about poor defenseless birds?”

The man’s questions… wasn’t what I was expecting at all.

Moreover, it instantly gave me the wiggle room I needed to take a page out of Ilunor’s playbook.

Bold-faced lying.

“No.” I answered bluntly, before just as quickly gesturing into the room. “In fact, we were just having a nice evening together…” I began trailing off, just as my rear view cameras began revealing what amounted to the theater Ilunor had prepared.

For in the middle of the living room, in plain sight to anyone by the door, was a Vunerian currently downing an entire trolley cart’s worth of food. A sight-seer was splayed out in front of him, currently on pause with the image of some dragon caught flying mid-frame.

As if on cue, he craned his head towards me with a cupcake in hand, his eyes narrowing on the apprentice knowingly as he slowly pushed the tasty morsel into his maw in a menacing fashion, before turning back towards the sight-seer leisurely; playing the part of a couch potato.

“... watching sight-seers. The only flying shenanigans we were experiencing was a sight from Lord Rularia’s sight-seer!” I finally continued, prompting the apprentice’s eyes to narrow even further, until finally, he relented. His features soon shifted to something less intense. If only for a moment.