It was a long and rickety ride back up the moving closet, as the seven returned to the surface. While it seemed like the descent made use of nothing but freefall to propel the room downwards, the ascent was forced to use rickety machinery to bring it back up.

"Best case scenario," commented Montgomery during the ride, "Millie won't be able to get up, since we can collapse the shaft that leads up to the classroom remotely."

"Remotely?" Alphonse seemed interested. "How's that?"

"A really, really long fuse and some explosives," Montgomery laughed. "And a dream."

"Lovely," Dianna rolled her eyes.

The room reached the surface, and the seven stepped out. Montgomery gestured for them to follow, and follow they did, until they arrived at another tucked-away corner of the academy. This corner seemed far less protected than where they'd just been, not protected magically at all. Montgomery opened a dusty door, and the seven of them stepped in.

"What the- get the hell out of here!" Montgomery shouted at the trio of teenage students- an elf, a dwarf, and a Yeumux- squatting in the room. The elf was smoking, while the other two seemed to be lazing around on the chairs in the room. The three of them stood up immediately, growing pale as they saw their academy headmaster in the last place they expected.

"Dude," the dwarf whispered, "I thought you said no one comes here!"

Montgomery walked forward and plucked the cigarette out of the smoking one's mouth. "What's this?" he chided.

"A... cigarette."

"And why the hell are you smoking on campus? Not to mention you should be in class right now!"

"Sorry, sir," the elf looked down at his feet.

"The three of you are all getting written up. Give me your names, right now."

"Kithris," answered the elf.

"Yorgen," answered the dwarf.

"Steven," answered the Yeumux.

"Alright, Kithris, Yorgen, and... Steven... get your asses back to class. We'll be having a talk with your teachers tomorrow."

"Yes sir..." the trio nodded along dejectedly, then speedwalked out of the room.

All this time, the other six were mixed between awkward silence and struggling to hold back laughter.

"I swear," Montgomery shook his head as he saw them leave, then closed the door behind them, "you give kids the world and they'll blow it all off for a few cheap kicks."

"Seems like this room doesn't see a lot of use," Dianna snuck in a snarky comment.

"Well, that'd be my fault," Montgomery sighed. "I really should use this room more but... I don't really get the chance to."

"What is this room for, anyways?" asked Simon, gazing around at the room now that the focus was drawn away from the students that were inside. It seemed to be a typical junk room, where extra chairs and desks were stored, and where cabinets held excess school supplies like chalk, pens, and pencils.

"This room? Nothing." Montgomery walked over to a nearby wall, where a thin outline indicated the presence of a hidden button built into the wall. He pushed it, and instantly the room flickered into a completely different setting. Now, the walls were adorned with racks for weapons and lined with stands for armor, though a scant few of them held anything. Of the eight racks and six stands, only two racks and one stand were occupied. In one of the racks, there rested a scythe, with a blade made of the same yellow-purple metal as the chains that bound Milleboreaus. In the other, a rapier of the same metal. And on the armor stand, a simple tunic of leather, splinted along the arms and chest by that same metal.

"This room," began Montgomery as he stepped towards the equipment, "is my personal armory. It's a little threadbare at the moment- been that way for longer than I care to admit. I used to give out some of my old gear to really promising adventurers, this stuff is all that's left."

"What's so special about this stuff?" Mina inquired.

"It's siderite," Montgomery smiled. "A metal as alien as the Praetors, it can only be found in meteorites." Montgomery picked up the rapier, and flourished it nostalgically. "I'm no alchemist, so I haven't got a clue what exactly it does, but I know one thing: siderite is the absolute bane of the Praetors. Its presence restricts their abilities greatly, preventing them from using any of their techniques."

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

"Techniques?" Dianna cocked her head. "What techniques?"

"You are probably familiar with at least a couple of them, if you've faced Dagon. All the Praetors possess four signature techniques: the Rejection, the Resurrection, the Destination, and the Absolution."

"Oh yeah!" Simon snapped his fingers. "Finn used a couple of those."

"Finn?" inquired Montgomery.

"Some pirate we fought back in Ad Limosa."

"I see..." nodded Montgomery. "In that case, it was probably one of Dagon's Descendants. Only natural it would seek revenge for one of its own blood to be killed."

"Descendant?" gasped Mina, taken aback. "I thought they were aliens! Can they... breed... with life on this planet?"

Perception Check: 22

Dianna passes.

For barely a second, Montgomery's vision again darted away from the group, and to somewhere behind it. Dianna chose to again refrain from alerting Montgomery, and did not follow his gaze.

"Yes and no," answered Montgomery. "Exactly how the Praetors reproduce is lost on us, but we know they can produce offspring. And they hold this offspring in particularly high regard, higher than any one of us."

"So Descendants can inherit their parent's techniques?" Simon asked.

"They can inherit the concept of the technique," explained Montgomery, "well, more like the ability to perform those techniques is passed down. With each generation, more of the technique's knowledge is lost- typically, an entire technique is lost between Praetor and First Descendant." Montgomery paused, then realized he needed to explain further. "Basically, Dagon's direct Descendant- its First Descendant- would typically have three of the techniques. Then, that Descendant's own Descendant would have two or three, depending on a number of factors- I'm no geneticist."

"The fuck is that?" chided Lawrence.

"Someone who studies genes," Dianna answered. "Break the word down into its components- gene- and -ist should tip you off, fish-brain."

"My bad, miss scholar, we can't all be dumping points into Intelligence!"

"A-ny-way," Simon interrupted, "what generation do you think Finn was?"

"How many Praetorian Techniques did he use?" asked Montgomery in response.

"Two, I think- I don't know what all of them do."

"Right, right!" Montgomery smacked himself in the head. "I never explained what they do, did I!"

Montgomery breathed in, preparing for another lecutre.

"The four Praetorian Techniques are based on the different mindsets a Praetor might experience during battle. The Rejection represents an unwillingness to begin combat- usually out of disinterest. It manifests as some form of absolute defensive ability, and is typically perpetually active, preventing those below a certain threshold of power from even engaging a Praetor in combat in the first place. Notably, the Praetor sets that threshold for themselves, and using all manner of different conditions, and effectively uses its Rejection to filter out unworthy opponents.

"The Resurrection is in a similar vein to the Rejection, a technique utilized to prevent or avoid combat in situations where a Praetor finds it unnecessary or- more often- beneath them. The Rejection separates a Praetor's form into two: one, a simple form for blending in with mortals like us, drawing attention away from themselves; and two, their true, original form. The Resurrection technique is essentially the act of returning to a Praetor's original form. In Descendants, however, the technique usually transforms the Descendant into a new, more powerful form, rather than returning them to their original form.

"The Destination is a technique used to establish supremacy in a battle. It creates an environment exemplary of the Praetor casting it, giving them an immediate advantage over their opponents by putting themselves in favorable terrain. Additionally, most Destinations wielded by more powerful Descendants and Praetors have additional abilities that the Praetor can utilize at-will.

"Finally, the Absolution technique is a final technique that ends any and every fight- one way or another. It is an attack that is so incredibly draining for the Praetor to use, and leaves it so vulnerable afterwards, that should the attack fail to kill their opponent, then the Praetor would be left with no option but defeat."

"So we could've defeated Dagon?!" exclaimed Simon.

"Wha- Dagon used its Absolution against you?!" Montgomery seemed genuinely taken aback.

"Yeah!" Mina insisted. "The black cube of water with all the eyes!"

"Can't say I've ever seen it before," chuckled Montgomery while shaking his head. "But I'm sure Dagon wouldn't have used it without a backup plan."

"He just seemed really fucking mad," Lawrence mocked. "Maybe he got so mad he used it without thinking!"

"I doubt that," sighed Montgomery.

"Back to Finn," Simon interjected, "we only saw him use the Destination and the Absolution."

"Then he could've been anywhere from a second to fourth generation," commented Montgomery. "I imagine he was closer to fourth, given that you, well, survived. Especially after an Absolution."

"Are they really that bad?" asked Mina.

"Terrible," Montgomery said. "The only reason I'm alive is because Millie was too impaired by siderite to use its Absolution- without that, I'm sure it would've won that day instead of us- me."

Dianna raised an eyebrow.

Montgomery sighed. "Okay, truth is I had some help, but who doesn't these days? I'm a hero, but every hero needs a party- even Braemon!"

"Even Braemon," everyone but Dianna nodded along.

"So how valuable is this siderite stuff, anyway?" Alphonse chimed in, ever the merchant.

"Well, that depends on who you ask," answered Montgomery. "It's rare stuff to be sure, but it's not very good quality steel. So to the average blacksmith, you'd be buying or selling for a small sum of silver per pound. With someone who knows what it can do? Thousands of silver for some siderite scraps."

"Is it really worth all that?" asked Simon.

"Certainly. Siderite weapons can rip through any Praetor's Rejection, no matter how strong, and siderite armor can resist many of the effects of a Praetor's other techniques. If you plan on hunting Praetors or Descendants, siderite is a must."

Montgomery walked over to the scythe, and pulled it down from the rack.

"And I'm... over scythes, as a weapon. They're too bulky, and really just not as cool as I used to think." he looked up, and smiled. "If some adventurers were willing to, maybe, take some classes on how to fight Descendants, taught by yours truly... I wouldn't mind parting with this one."