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Metaworld Chronicles
Chapter 177 - Tempus Fugit

Chapter 177 - Tempus Fugit

"You're telling me you've done… nothing? Not a single quest completed?"

Gwen felt unbound sympathy for her new friend.

Lulan sat on Gwen's living room lounge, her knees held against her chest, her expression glassy and miserable. The Sword Mage was impressively flexible, Gwen noticed. Though unemployed right now, the girl could find alternative employment as a contortionist.

Herself, Petra, Lulan, Kusu and Richard had enjoyed a celebratory dinner in Gwen's apartment before Monday's Finals. As the Mages took turns discussing recent events, Lulan confessed that she hadn't been questing.

"What happened?" Gwen inquired, curious as to why someone with Lulan's skills would be excluded.

"Eh, I joined a Purge party around Week 9," Lulan explained. "But..."

As it turned out, the Clan organised party had been instructed to isolate her. After entering the Jiangxi Orange Zone, her party members immediately snubbed the Sword Mage. Having brought only a week's supply of rations, she had to forage for food and water and make her shelter. When she accused the party leader, the man turned the rest of the party against her, citing her violent past and infamous reputation as a traitor. No longer clouded by the red mist, Lulan was lost as to her next course of action, knowing that if she killed or maimed them, she would probably never again return to Shanghai.

When she returned in week 11, she fell into depression and slept in the apartment for about a week.

"Those bastards! You should have come to us immediately!" Gwen gnashed her pearly teeth. Caliban stirred beside her, licking its chops. "Who are they? We'll visit them right now."

"I appreciate the sentiment," Kusu intervened, ever the cool-headed one. "Lulu and I, we need to keep our heads down. Maybe it's best to get pushed around for a while. This way, they can 'forget' about us. We're just going to be glaring targets otherwise."

"Huashan has a stick up their arse." Gwen's complaint was low and grumbling. "Should I talk to Uncle?"

"It's not our Clan." Lulan shook her head. "It's everyone else."

Clanners then. Clanners, in general.

"Maybe I should drop out? Take six months of leave?" Lulan wondered aloud, watching Gwen's face. "I could be in the same year as you and Kusu then."

That's more like dropping TWO years, Gwen explained to her. That's too much time wasted for what was essentially a problem resolvable with a little tenacity and a lesson delivered via an Iron Sword.

Gwen was almost considering whether she could speak to Dai for that favour when her cousin chimed in his two cents.

"Look." Richard came to Lulan's rescue. "Why don't you join my party? We're all second years. My guys are all independent contractors, so don't expect anyone fancy, but we got no baggage either."

"You have a regular Party?" Gwen felt slightly envious that Richard already had a crew. She knew he had a few people who regularly sought him out, but a party?

"You know, the Nantong guys from the Bridge project, plus a few strays we've picked up since."

"I don't know about that," Gwen pouted. "You've never introduced them formally."

"They're all eager to meet you, haha," Richard chuckled. "Remember when my boss spat the dummy? He's accused me of keeping our 'beauty' of a cousin hidden."

"Can I join then?" Lulan perked up. "They won't dislike a Clanner?"

"They wouldn't care. We're mostly doing construction and clearing work, though, don't expect us to be doing much Purging. We're on the defensive nine times out of ten. You can transmute metal, right?"

"I conjure iron, and yes. I can Transmute all kinds of metal, though iron is my forte."

"Perfect." Richard clapped his hands. "You have no idea how helpful that's going to be. It's dirty work, lots of water, sand and mud every day, every inch of the way. Lots of merfolk to fight as well. Think you'll be alright with that?"

Lulan nodded eagerly.

"Great!" Richard reached over with his hand. The two shook on the deal. "The boys will be thrilled."

Kusu watched the exchange. His eyes were increasingly uncertain.

"How many women are in your group?" Kusu asked casually.

"Just one."

"One?"

"Yep, Lulu. Hahaha!" Richard broke into rancorous laughter, slapping Kusu's thighs with casual intimacy.

"Hahaha!" Lulan laughed as well.

Kusu looked to have drifted into space.

A vision of Lulan in shorts and a spaghetti singlet, covered in construction dust, hammering away at bedrock, flashed between Gwen's mind's eye. There were so many men, their eyes green, glowing, and watching as her iron sword pounded away.

Thunk! Thunk! Thunk!

Then Lulu would wipe away a brow full of sweat.

She could see why suddenly, Kusu looked violently ill.

[https://i.imgur.com/hg5cY37.png]

The Conjuration practical exam involved a graded demonstration. There were duels galore, but not so for Gwen. One 'Shaaa!' from her Mongolian Death Worm was enough to dissuade anyone eager to consider contesting the Void sorceress. The Bestiary students had spread the word that should a Familiar be consumed by Caliban, 'It's gone forever!'

Additionally, a rumour had circulated that Dai Fung owed Gwen Song a favour, and that was a Warding Glyph no one wanted to step in.

Evocation came and went as Gwen had anticipated. Without access to her Familiars or the convenient IFF of a Spirit, she had initially scored in the low 80s. It took a manifestation of Ball Lightning, consecutively creating three self-seeking orbs which unerringly demolished their targets to attain the 90 needed for High Distinction.

Though higher grades were not necessary for her inclusion in the IIUC team, Petra had informed her cousin that team members seldom possessed a Weighed Average Mark below 85.

As Gwen wished to participate in the 2004 October tryouts, a top percentile mark served as insurance.

Tuesday followed with Bestiary, a course Gwen had already passed with flying colours. She went anyway, giving Eunae and others moral support as Luyi ducked, dodged through obstacles, and fought summoned creatures.

Advanced Spellshaping was next.

The 60% weighing project for Magister Lee's course was the alteration of a "spell" that the students must present for a glorified show and tell. Gwen hadn't thought much of the project as the assignment involved 'an original alteration of an existing spell'. Thus far, her peers have proved woefully unoriginal.

It was fortunate that Gwen had several.

Flashbang was almost entirely original, though nine-tenths of it had been Alesia's design.

She also had a spell she had named Taser. In hindsight, it was useless against monsters because meleeing a land shark was foolish. It was also meaningless against Mages because casters possessed Shields. What was it good for was NoMs.

Gwen cringed. Those days of playful innocence were behind her. To think she had thought NoMs a force to be feared.

Then there was Blast Bolt, another spell Alesia and Henry had advised. Finally, she had the Elemental-Shift variety of Faithful Hound and the Blast-Radius variety of Dimension Door.

Now that she thought of it, she hadn't created any new spells for a long time. Was it because of time and resources? Or that it was easier to buy than discover? In truth, her human resources in Sydney had been over the top. She had unilateral access to the battle-prodigy Alesia de Botton, her brother-in-craft Gunther Shultz, and the late Master of Oceania, Henry Kilroy. For most of her early career, she had been tutored via a Cog-Chamber, with her mana guided and her incantations perfected by Tower-tier teachers.

Some are given silver teaspoons, Gwen reflected with a bittersweet melancholy. In hindsight, she had been fed with a platinum escargot fork.

Michio appeared interested in her Flashbang but snorted at her other spells.

"75, Distinction," the man noted, flexing his chest unconsciously. "I am frankly disappointed. I'd expected more."

Well, shit. Gwen gave the Magister her best smile to hide her flustered nerves. Averaged against her previous assignment, she was sitting on 82.

"Alright. My next demonstration might take a while. Magister Lee. But please observe."

Gwen drew a low-tier summon circle on the floor with her finger, then began to incant her sole warding spell.

"Morden's Faithful Hound!" It took her just over a minute to finish—a personal record.

With a thunderclap, a blazing burst of cobalt electricity erupted from the circle, then disappeared for all but Gwen. While her observers grew confused, Gwen knew that only the owner of the guardian hound could see its presence within the AOE perimetre.

"Incredible! How?" Magister Lee stood from his chair with enough force to send the fold-out chair clattering across the training hall.

"Sir?"

Michio strode across the floor toward her, who frantically began to dispel the hound. Her inexpertise, however, was time enough for the Magister to approach with the specific intent of 'testing' her ward.

A blaze of Tyrian-cobalt fulmination erupted, and then an enormous Great Dane leapt from the summoning circle. Michio's mana shield sparkled and sizzled as a pattern of red-orange light erupted, keeping Gwen's tier 4 guard dog at bay, scraping and snarling at her intruder.

"Dismiss!" Gwen managed to dispel the hound. It was the first time she had to undo her spell, and the effort made her heart race.

Michio's Shield glowed for a second longer, then dissolved, leaving a scent of sunkissed bedsheets.

Her instructor was a Radiant Mage! Gwen thought immediately of Gunther. No wonder the two men resembled each other: the overbearing presence, the aura of authority, and the endearment they engendered effortlessly.

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"WONDERFUL!" Michio reached out with his massive hands, catching her shoulders and pinning her at arm's length. "I am very pleased."

"Thank you!" Gwen hollered back, her mind awash with his awesome presence. Gods, why were they both shouting? "Can you let me go, Sir? I have no wish to lose a kidney to one of your fans."

Michio released her.

Gwen shot a suspicious glance at the dozen or so students throwing daggers with their eyes. She stepped back in case Michio again became enraptured by The Passion of Spellcraft.

The Magister was glowing.

Bloody Radiant Mages! If Gwen had been a teenager, she might have fallen in love with Lee right there and then. The man had far less control over his aura than Gunther, for her brother-in-law never leaked his charismatic colours all over innocent bystanders.

"Who taught you this variation?"

"My instructor," Gwen answered vaguely.

Michio studied Gwen's eyes with an intensity unbefitting an instructor.

"Are you willing to offer the variation to the Tower for CCs? You will be amply rewarded if you are in the rightful possession of these spells. You will contribute to the greater good of the Spellcraft community! What say you, Gwen Song?"

Gwen did a double take. Sell the spell? Offer it to the public? Could she do that? The variation belonged to her Master. But of course, her Master was cold and preserved in Sufina's Grot. Not to mention his estate belonged to Gunther and Alesia more so than herself.

"I would have to consult with the er… other stakeholders," Gwen replied expertly. "I will give you an answer as soon as possible."

"You MUST!" Michio came closer, his aura making her eyes water. "If you do, you shall receive a perfect grading!"

Gwen's complexion glowered a vibrant shade of scarlet, looking like she had been facing a furnace. There was that smell of freshly sunned bedsheets again! These Radiant Mages are insufferable.

"I need to go." Gwen pulled herself away. Jesus Christ, she tried to imagine Gunther pulling one of these light shows of personal charisma. People would fall to their knees and kiss his shoes even if he had stabbed their mothers.

For now, with her booties clacking against the wooden floorboards, she fled the scene.

[https://i.imgur.com/hg5cY37.png]

Wednesday.

Gwen drifted through the air, following their instructor's lead. Lesser Flight was the last station for Utility Transmutation. Ahead, Magus Luo, the Dean's nephew, led the group of about twenty or so Utility Transmutation students who had mastered enough of their Secondary School of Magic through the air.

Gwen followed without effort, though she received no praise from her instructor.

Luo had learned from the Dean that Gwen was a natural Transmuter, meaning her 'genius' for her 'third' school was the equivalent of a native speaker masquerading as a foreigner learning the language.

When the flight finished, fourteen students remained.

Kanto Luo gave Gwen a 95 out of 100, grudgingly marking it down on his data slate before bidding her leave to enjoy her Winter Holiday. Though it was almost hitting 30 to 35 degrees Celsius daily in mid-August, the University's Extra-curriculum circuit meant students would remain busy in Shanghai well into November until day-time temperatures dropped to sub-zero.

As for Gwen, freedom was at hand.

Economics on Thursday was a cinch. Searching through the three dozen economic models seared into her memory by week-long cram sessions, she re-imagined a watered-down revision of the Keynesian Economic model by the late John Maynard Keynes.

In her assignment, she appropriated a few "golden rules" offered by Keynes as a solution to the Great Depression, mainly that there was a way to stimulate the economy via an "incentive to invest", substituting the Arcane Class for the Capitalist Class, and the NoMs for the Working Class. She advocated opening the Shanghai Central Bank to low-interest Loans for NoMs seeking to erect small and medium enterprises, with the CCP serving as gatekeepers of monetary policy.

Her essay furthermore explained that should interest rates for lending be reduced, many investments previously not seen as viable or profitable would manifest. Loans would finance long-term debt purchases such as houses, automobiles, and the spread of magical appliances. In this manner, the stimulation of the NoM economy directly fed into the circulation of currency and assets in the Mage economy, drawing the two together to create an overall apportionment of goods and services across the two previously segregated spheres of economic development.

As for the potential rise of buccaneer enterprises and Fordian moguls, Gwen wasn't worried. She wrote that Crystals were naturally resistant to hyperinflation and that the Towers would punish anyone whose greed threatened to undermine the system.

Assuredly, in this world, even if the NoMs were living like Steinbeck's Middle America in a literary cross-over with Orwell's Air Strip One, things could hardly get worse.

Management was another easy write-up. As this world forsook political science in favour of outright violence, Gwen decided to address Ma's question of "Problems of Equality in a Society of Strata" with stolen transcripts from Amartya Sen, the Harvard resident on Human Development Theory. In the 80s, the professor had posed a formative question regarding the emergence of Neo-liberalism, citing the problem of distributing limited resources equally. Gwen contributed one of her old essays, proposing the question of "Equality of What?" moving through topics such as welfare, aid, capability and opportunity. Following Sen's theory, she linked these with key humanistic themes of individuality and responsibility, then worked in an entire section on the concept of Noblesse Oblige, arguing for a more balanced approach to the social strata, emphasising a convergence of liberal and socialist receptions to 'equality' among the classes that linked in with her earlier economic essay.

After the last call for 'pens down' was met by the clattering of writing implements, Gwen gathered Kitty, Richard and Mayuree around her, then paraded her compatriots toward the local Korean BBQ, where she 'shouted' them dinner.

[https://i.imgur.com/hg5cY37.png]

"Sure, put it into the registry. I don't mind." Gunther shrugged. "Alesia will likely need some of those CCs. She's been trying to auction up a Fire Spirit for months now."

"Thanks, Gunther."

"Tell you what." Her brother-in-law tapped the cleft in his chin. "Leave it with me. I have Master's notes in a Spellbook somewhere. I'll submit it under your name from my end to Pudong. The negotiation with the Towers usually takes a while. You're not ready for that, not as a first-year student!"

"I have full confidence in both of you." Gwen smiled, showing her pearly whites. "I'll ask Mayuree, my friend, if they know anyone selling a Fire Spirit. Her family runs the House of M!"

"Sounds like someone useful." He nodded approvingly. "Whatever happens, keep your Contingency Ring on."

[https://i.imgur.com/hg5cY37.png]

By Saturday, the semester was officially over.

Gwen went by her babulya's laboratory to receive another check-up, confirming with Jun that he would pick her up on Sunday morning.

"Evocation, 4.61."

"Conjuration 5.12."

“Transmutation 2.70.”

"Abjuration 1.85."

"Divination 1.34."

"Illusion 1.95."

"230 VMI."

Klavdiya couldn't help but be stricken all over again, holding the scripts to her heart like she was clutching a precious great-grandchild.

"Babulya, you're embarrassing me." Gwen tugged at the script in her grandmother's hand.

"Be careful out there with Jun. Don't overextend yourself. When you return, we'll have a big family dinner."

"I will, Babulya. And thanks, dinner sounds wonderful."

"Percy will be there, I promise." Her grandmother watched her expression intently.

Gwen did her best to smile.

Her younger sibling had not called nor spoken to her since she had last visited him. It was as though the boy had fallen off the Material Plane. Were it not for a stream of updates from babulya; she would have thought him a phantom from her previous life.

At least Percy 1.0 called every other week. Gwen sighed inwardly. Hopefully, their forced encounter would bring any misgivings or misunderstandings to light.

[https://i.imgur.com/hg5cY37.png]

Sunday.

Gwen laid out all her gear on the bed, from smallest to largest.

12 Healing Potion Injectors.

4 Remove Disease Injectors.

4 Cure Poison Injectors.

1 Potion of Invisibility.

1 Potion of Giant's Strength.

1 Potion of Night Vision.

Most of these were her loot from Nephres.

1 Portable Habitat returned from Kusu.

1000 HDMs in assorted HDM and LDMs.

Assorted cosmetics, body wash, shampoos and conditioners.

Cantrip Cubes—from insect-repelling to laundry to those that produced water and fire.

Assorted intimates.

Shorts.

Pants.

Shirts—twenty assorted.

Ten pairs of socks, from ankle, knee to thigh length.

1 Skin-suit, military issue.

1 Enchanted Boots of Flying, as well as an assortment of runners, heels, wedges and sandals.

1 Chameleon Cloak, half body.

And so it goes.

Her ring was barely half-full, even with two weeks' worth of Korean instant noodles and Spam. For this, Gwen congratulated herself on the joys of owning a Large Storage Ring.

She was up at 6 AM, unable to sleep for the excitement. She was a child again, waiting for the campout at Cockatoo Island with her Blackwattle friends. In the intervening time, she had dressed for style and comfort, knowing that Jun would advise her once they were on their way.

Wanting to impress, she slipped into the laced-up magical boots Alesia had loaned, pairing them with a skort, a kind of tennis wear made for mobility and comfort. Casual tops completed the look, with a duck-billed cap Tao had given her enchanted to soak sweat and keep cool.

Her Message device rang.

"Uncle?"

"I am downstairs."

"Coming!"

Petra met her in the hall.

"Going?"

"Yep, take care, Pats. I'll bring back some dragon meat!"

"Take care." Petra embraced her, pressing her cousin against her cheeks. The Enchanter had been paranoid and worried about Gwen's journey to poach Dragons.

Richard had faired her well last night, wishing her good luck and promising that he would likewise return from his extended CC-gathering quest in Nantong in one piece. He further informed her that Kusu and Lulan had both joined his "party". The brother could not leave his sister alone after Lulan met with Richard's crew and instantly became their beloved mascot.

Gwen had likewise promised Tao and Mina at Friday dinner that she would see them at the big family reunion after her return and that they would spend plenty of time together during the Winter break.

Of all her friends and family, Mayuree loathed Gwen leaving the most.

"I am going to hide in my room and not come out until you return," the Diviner had informed her. "Come back soon! Please!"

"I'll try my best! Maybe perform Augury for me? See how my trip would go?"

Mayuree returned about ten minutes later, her face flush with excitement.

"Awesome! Everything is going to be great! My Augur says great success!"

"Wonderful!" Gwen hugged her friend and gave her a peck on the forehead. "Alright, I'll be back in one piece, I promise! Wish me luck!"

Outside Gouding B-1's lobby, Gwen met her uncle parked beside his Wrangler-styled Jeep, back against the door, one foot over the other.

Jun wore his military casuals. He had an enormous wristwatch on his right, which Gwen assumed to be a Magical Device and an assortment of rings on either hand.

Her uncle must have recently cut his hair, for his military crop was shaved close to his scalp, giving him a more masculine look than usual. Perhaps out of habit, Jun had kept his beard, which formed a dark halo around his lips, culminating in a villainous goatee.

When he saw her, his eyes lit up.

"Looking lovely there," he grinned. "Your father would be happy to see you doing so well."

Gwen had been skipping happily toward Jun when she paused mid-stride. Had she been holding a handbag, she would have dropped it like a weight.

"My... father?"

Jun laughed, opening the car door to let her in.

"Jump in." He slid into the driver's seat effortlessly, then slipped on a pair of cool aviators. "Dragons await, but we'll see how Hai's doing first. I bet he misses you like nothing else. I know I would!"

[https://i.imgur.com/hg5cY37.png]

From the penthouse, Mayuree watched Jun's Jeep enter the main boulevard; she followed Gwen with her eyes until she disappeared in a forest of sedans, trucks and rickshaws.

She held her inscribed augury implements in her hands—two lengths of dragon teeth from her homeland. When she had attempted to roll the bones, her decahedron Theravāda Mandala had steadfastly refused any foretelling of the future, expelling the bones. When she changed to a less potent octogramic Mandala, the mulberry fibre upon which the Divination glyphs were inscribed began to smoke.

When her next attempt caught fire, Mayuree knew better than to tempt fate. Such things were beyond her ken; any more prying would invite calamity.