Chapter 151: Chapter 39: Meeting Pebblechin

---D-Day+89, Daroine 28th, 2nd Wednesday Morning---

---Beneath Kashiwa Hall---

*knock* *knock* *knock* 

*open*

“Professor?”  Damn dusty in here.  “Professor Norakhelg?”

*cough*

Yep, that Professor Bremm Pebblechin Norakhelg.  The Golemancer.  Wanted to set aside a couple hours for us so needed to schedule ahead.  And this was the soonest he could block out some time for me, according to Frosty.  Stormgarde’s Dean of Magic Studies and my knocked up breastless twig of a mistress.

2nd Wednesday?  Well, yeah, it's technically “Oxtoi” but easier for me to think using my world’s labels.

Why “second” Wednesday?  What, did you think I was going to make a 2nd Friday?  TGIF, not TGI2F.  It's Friday but not that Friday?  Dude, that would just be cruel.

And the weekend is two days.  So I can't rightly add a third with a second Saturday or Sunday.

2nd Monday?  How about 2nd fuck you.  Jesus, one of them is bad enough.  Could you imagine two?  Not just no, but hell ex-wife no.

And whatever day it is?  Ain't like I'm not busy.  Thought “Umbra I” was a bust, but actually learning shit this week.  Turns out mana has different types too!  Just harder to notice because they aren't segregated like qi is.

Know it's two names for the same thing.  They are just used so oppositely that I picture them as separate. 

Bunch of other stuff also but too much to cover right now.

*bap* *bap* *bap*

"Professor?"  What is that noise?

Right now I'm "under" Stormgarde.  A lot of the behind the scenes work to keep this school running happens below the ground.

Started in the basement of Kashiwa Hall but think this is more to the west.  And these tunnels?  Freaky.

The passages themselves are cut stone, wide enough for three people to walk side by side.  Wider hallways have, I shit you not, rails on the side.  Like railroad rails.

See the maids militant, my joke name for Stormgarde's maids since they look a lot like anime battle maids, pushing carts back and forth on them.

Going through the halls I pass by doorways to offices, archives, storage rooms, and what even look like workshops.

All of it dimly lit by lanterns and with a musty smell in the air.  Reminds me of those History Channel shows about the Maginot Line.

Again struck by that fantasy modern theme this place has going on.

Oh, and speaking of fantasy modern?  We got books!  Huh?  Oops, I mean school books.  They are nowhere near as big as the books I dealt with in my school days but it's strangely comforting to have them.

Feels weirdly good to not rely solely on chalkboards and lectures anymore.

And with school books?  Come school book bags.  Made with tough cloth or leather and even have shoulder straps.  Watching herds of teenagers entering school with book bags?  Gives me flashbacks to dropping my own kids off at school.

Heart squeezing flashbacks.  Making me wonder, for the millionth time, how are they doing?  Are they healthy?  Happy?  Do they miss me?

…

Fuck!

Stop.

Just…

Gotta keep remembering.  There’s a time component to the summoning ritual.  Do it right and I'll be back before they wake up.  Never know I was even gone.

Maybe I can even save Sayo.  Bring her back to her family.  Back to her boyfriend.

Okay.  That's enough.  Focus.  Eyes on the prize.  Let's get this done.

Whew…

Well, the rest of the “beneath” may be clean, but this place isn't.

Got turned around and had to ask directions a couple of times, think I even got a peek at a maid militants barracks, but finally found the Golemancer's place.  Really did not expect this was on the other side of that door.

"A warehouse?"

That's what this looks like, a big warehouse, full of shelves, covered in junk.  Yeah, you heard me, junk.

The door is on what would be a second floor.  With stairs along the wall going down to the bottom.  A number of lights hang way down from a shadowy peaked ceiling.  With rafters above crisscrossing back and forth.

Much more poorly lit than the hallways but I can see rows and rows of shelves.  Full shelves.  There is a well lit spot in a distant corner but there's too much crap and debris in the way to see what's there.

Even [Super Senses] has its limits with this much stone and metal littering the space.

*bap* *bap* *bap*

And that corner is where the mystery noise is coming from.

*tang* *tang*

Sounds as we step down the grated metal.  Were metal grates another fantasy modern part of Sayo’s dream?

As soon as we reach the floor.  Realize I didn't need to mentally plan a route to that bright corner.  When there is already an easy trail to follow.  Through the layers of dust, covering everything, is a path left by someone’s footsteps.  One that leads off into the distance.

"Huh."

Thought it would be a cluttered office, at most.  Wasn't expecting this much of a challenge just to meet a prof.  But I'm here, so might as well get this over with.

Really was going to power through, but what's on the shelves?  Soon distracts me.

"She may not look like much kid but she's got it where it counts."

Han's line from Mos Eisley comes to mind as I see shelf after shelf covered with every possible contraption.  Most, giving zero clue on what they actually do.  There are many that look like "parts" to me.  But a surprising number appear “complete.”  About all also look damaged.

Some are made of stone.  Others of metal.  A few include both.  Cracked or crumbling stone.  Torn or rusted metal.  Seems a fifty fifty split between something busting out?  Or something else bashing in.

There are machines with clear, as in drained, mana crystals still inserted into slots.  Others look like they used a sort of steam engine.  A few have no visible source of power at all.

As a kid?  Loved taking toys apart to see what makes them tick.  Sometimes I could even put them back together again.  But I'm an adult now so much to mature for such childish pursuits anymore.

"This nozzle goes…  A wheel?  Maybe it could fit here…  Look at this cog."

Fine.  So I still play with legos as much as my kids.  Maybe even more.  Go ahead, sue me.

Not every piece is thickly covered in dust.  A corresponding trail on the floor lines up with ones that have been added or moved recently.

There are even assemblies with actual gears.

"Master?  What is all this?"

Mostly entourage-less today, except for Frankie and Red.  Didn’t want to overwhelm the academic, but both refused to let me go without them.  Mila demanded to come too but I shot her down.  Hitomi?  Didn't even try.

"It's a junkyard.  A manapunk and steampunk junkyard."

And heaven for a tinkerer like me.

A couple aisles later we find our first machine that’s not on a shelf.

It looks, well, like a barstool with three legs.  On the ground next to it is an arm, I think.  And at the end of that arm?  A… feather duster?

The barstool’s legs are thick and at the bottom of each is a ball.  Can see a ball joint near the top too where the other end of the arm can fit.  But there’s nothin to attach the arm to.

Hmm…

Maybe it's like the skellies?  Mana imitates the muscles and tendons so no “physical” connection is required.  Let's see…  Ah ha.  Here’s a slot and there’s a finger sized mana stone in it.  The crystal’s empty, clear, too.

Super tempted to put a full crystal in there but, really don’t want to raise any more flags than I already do.

The entire fantasy droid, R2-You-Shall-Not-Pass-2, appears to be made from iron.  Rusting iron.  Wondering how heavy it is, and how the feet are connected, I pick it up.

Holy shit.  Is this solid iron?  Got to be three four hundred pounds.

Still, after becoming a quasi-daoist, I’m able to pick up the magic bot without needing to tap my reservoir.

Oh, yeah, forgot to mention that.  Uh, for the last three nights?  I’ve been dual-cultivating with the chinese princess sisters and teaching the techniques to my wives.

Fascinating to watch their material and astral bodies changing.  It really is the cultivation “techniques” that form the dantians and meridians.

Another discovery?  While a mana pool may not change in total size a whole lot?  Its “density” will increase as your cultivation “level” rises.  A very interesting solution for those with qi.

Yeah, your advancement may still be lower and slower than those with more qi.  But with a dantian you can always still improve.

Same with meridians, sort of.  There is always qi in them.  You don’t have to tap into it like you do with mana.  True, there is an unconscious use of mana by the physical form.  But with meridians and qi it is far more pronounced.

Which may explain the extended life spans of daoist masters that Big Ji and Little Li say is real.  It's not just improving and enhancing the physical like mana does.  Qi actively regenerates and reinforces the material body.

Both sisters are stronger than they look.  Tougher too.  That’s without using body magic.  We, uh, “tested” it.  A lot.  Yeah, tested, that’s the word to use.

And after just four nights of “testing?”  I feel stronger.  Through [Mana Manipulation] and [Super Senses] I can feel not only more mana in my flesh and blood than normal.  What’s there is thicker, denser, more potent.

If I can reach a high level of cultivation and add war machine mode on top of it?  Fuck one man army.  I’ll be a one man apocalypse.

“Husband?”

Oops.  Shit, drifted off again.  Come on, space cadet.  Get it together.

“Sorry, Red, lost in thought.”

“Understood, Jon, just now may not be the best time to get… distracted…”

Eh?

Red’s change in tone gets me to turn and face her.  Just to see both her and Frankie staring past my shoulder.  So I turn myself around to look the same way and…

Uh… Gundam?

Past the end of the aisle is a larger space.  Figure we are about in the middle of the junkyard and it's an open area.  And in the middle of that is, well, a giant.  A sitting rusted crumbling giant but still, a giant.

Jesus, must be thirty feet tall when standing.  My mana eyes can see both metal and stone were used building it.  Even has an open cockpit in the chest.  Doesn’t look exactly like a Gundam, but it's close.

Thing must be super old.  Some metal parts look rusted entirely through.

Next to isekai gundam?  A car.  Not a big one though.  More like a compact.  And there’s a, hehe, washing machine?  Is that a lawn mower?  What the fuck?

Wait, didn’t I see all of these on Sayo’s phone?  One of the pre-summoning videos has her boyfriend showing off a doll, er, I mean “action figure.”  And that looks like her parent’s car.

Damn, whoever did this must have had it bad for Saintess Sanriel.  Real bad.

About to follow the path back into the aisles when I notice someone, or something, standing in the way.  Humanoid, around six feet tall, and metal.  Looks sort of like a scifi robot.  Too thin though.  Almost like a stick figure.  And there’s no face.  Just a blank smooth faceplate.

The metal looks bronze and there is a glass plate in the middle of its chest with a hinge.  Hanging open a little.  I swing it open to see an impressive mana stone inside.  About the size of my fist.

The crystal is “almost” perfectly clear.

<bzzt>

A noise, then slight glow from within its face plate.

<skyrk>

Another noise.  Sounds… electronic?

<P… P… kshyk. P-please.>

Is it speaking?

<M… Mana. P. Please.>

Son of a bitch.  It is.  Could I?  Since learning how to drain them, always carry a few in a pocket or two.  Don’t have a stone, that big, on me though.

Hmm…

You know, as a swordmage?  Can supposedly supercharge anything with my mana.  What would that do to a manapunk robot?

Guess Frankie hears my thoughts.

“Master?  Are you sure?”

“Nope.”

*grab*

Wrap my hand around the mana stone.  [Mana Manipulation] directs juice into the crystal as I open the taps to the reservoir.  Mana eyes see the gem begin changing color.  Except instead of the usual red, green, or blue?  The rock turns whiter and brighter.

A few minutes pass as vast amounts of my magic flood the stone.  Finally, begin to feel feedback.  Get a strange feeling that if I keep pushing?  The mana crystal will crack.  So turn off the tap and redirect the power.

*click*

Push the glass plate closed and look up at the faceplate.  Now see white flashing lights floating behind the reddish brown plate.  Like little LED’s.

“Feeling better now?”  I ask the robot man.

The bronze stick man’s head tilts to the side, while the lights move like audio bars as he speaks.

<Yes sir.  This unit is registering a full charge.  Thank you for your assistance.>

An electronic, male, and polite voice.

“You’re welcome.  Who are you?”

The reddish brown machine bows almost as neatly as not-sebastian.

<Forgive me, sir.  This construct’s identity is the Arma-skyrk-Autonomous Golemancy Research Assistant Golem.>

Whoa.

“Autono Golo Reso Whato?”

Blinking white lights do a dance.

<Unit apologizes, sir.  Please use the abbreviation, AGRAG, to refer to this construct, sir.>

“Agrag?”

<...Yes sir.>

“Good.”

<Thank you sir.>

“Hey Agrag.”

<Yes sir?>

“Know where the professor is?”

Blinky lights.

<...Might this one inquire as to the reason sir is seeking the professor?>

“Need to learn golemancy.”

<...>

Blinky fiesta!

“Uh…  Agrag?  Still in there buddy?”

<bzzt.  Yes, Agrag apologizes to sir for the delay.>  Raises a mechanical looking finger.  <Might this unit confirm?  Sir is locating Professor Bremm Norakhelg, correct?>

“Yes.”

<Professor Bremm Pebblechin Norakhelg, correct?>

“Umm…  Is there a problem with looking for him?”

<Might Agrag speak freely sir?>

“You might.”

<Thank you sir.  The professor may not be the most efficient source for instruction on golemancy, sir.>  Robotman bows again with a hand over his glass plate.  <Agrag recommends a more effective assistant for such education.  This unit.>

"Didn't he build you?"

Head tilt.

You are reading story A Fathers Wrath at novel35.com

<Agrag was assembled by the professor's father, Master Gorm Rocktoe Norakhelg.  Not his son.>

"Oh, so all of that was…"  Point in the gundam’s direction.

<Yes.  Master Gorm cared for the Saintess deeply.  He built all of those automatons to help her feel at home.  His son later added those shelves and the-bzzt items on them.>

*bap* *bap* *bap*

That weird sound is still running in the background.

“Okay…”  Can a robot even use magic?  “Still think we should see the professor first.”

<Very good sir.  Please follow Agrag.>

Trailing robotman down the next aisle we pass another barstool.  This one with a broom on its fallen arm.  Curious, so I ask as we walk.

“Agrag, why is this place so filthy?”

<Ah… bzzt.  The maids refuse to enter Professor Norakhelg’s laboratory.  So he constructed service golems to take care of their duties.>  Motions to another broken barstool.  <Regrettably, the professor gets easily distracted and often fails to service, the service golems.>

“Uh, isn’t he Stormgarde’s golemancer?”

<Yes sir.  Professor Norakhelg is competent at repairing golems.  His masterpiece quest, sadly, takes up the rest of his time and focus.>

Frankie chimes in.

“Masterpiece quest?”

<Yes mam.  Every true golemancer seeks to create a masterpiece.  The culmination of their art.  Transcending its parts and functions.>  Hand on chestplate.  <Most humbly speaking, this unit was Norakhelg senior’s masterwork.>

Guess Red doesn’t want to feel left out.

“Mister Agrag.  What is the professor’s masterwork?”

Going down to blinky town.

<bzzt.  Agrag thinks… better for you to see yourself.>

*bap* *tink* *bap* *tink* *bap* *tink* 

Getting closer we hear a second noise following right after the first.  Sounds like… metal on metal?

Still walking and navigating aisles so I pop another question.

“So what were you built for, Agrag?”

<Master Norakhelg had-bzzt concerns about Norakhelg junior’s… hobby.  He feared his knowledge and accomplishments would be lost.  Creating this construct to preserve and carry on his legacy, if required.>

What’s his kid into that could be that embarrassing?  Pokemon?

Before I can ask further we round another aisle and finally reach the well lit corner of this warehouse.  It's fairly dustless and I can see a working barstool going around, sweeping the floor.

Yep, see the arm and wheels attach like magnets to the body.  Moving freely without a direct physical connection.  Bet it's using mana.

*bap* *tink* *bap* *tink* *bap* *tink* 

The lamps hanging down from the ceiling are quite bright in this area.  Revealing two largish tables in front of us.  One covered in papers filled with magic circles and runes.  Plus a dustbin.  The other having something on it but covered with a tarp.

Along the wall are several well used looking workbenches.  Littered with various tools, bits, and bobs.

See a short stocky man on a stool hunched over the first table.  Examining papers and mumbling to himself.  Instead of being dressed in the faculty uniform?  He’s wearing baggy stained and dirty overalls with a long leather apron over it.  Has big leather gloves on too.

His long white hair and beard are a complete mess.  Clearly not cared for and almost entirely hiding his face.  Except for a big bulbous nose with square brass looking spectacles on it.

“...shud ‘av used ta anriish scrib?  Nah…  ta feyrin scrib bettah constrictin in ta second ring…  Felt steadah silk?  Pe’haps…”

On the end of the first table, is a bouncing dustbin.  Seriously, something inside it is jumping, making the bap.  Which is causing the little trash can to bounce, making the tink.

*bap* *tink* *bap* *tink* *bap* *tink* 

Agrag calmly walks up and taps on the first table.

<Hello?  Professor?>

The short preoccupied dwarf doesn’t even look up.

“Git?  Ah’m buzy.”

<You have guests, sir.>

“Get stuffed, buzy.”

Still not looking up.

<They made an appointment.>

“Don’ care if ta made gold.  Ah’m at ta critical stage…”

Tune out the back and forth between the odd couple and take a look in the bin.  Kind of curious about what’s making it bounce.

And…  It's just a cylinder.  There’s silk with some sort of stuffing that lines the lip and insides.  Bet it's a tight, but soft, squeeze for whatever goes in there.

*bap* *tink* *bap* *tink* *bap* *tink* 

There is a ring around the sleeve though.  It’s sliding partway, up and down, pretty vigorously.  Seems to be an oil or fluid on some of the lining too.  Now that I’m closer, past the dust, there is a distinct smell- Oh god.

*urp*

Back away.  Just back away.  Don’t throw up.  Don’t hurl.  Muscle it down.  So gross.  Need a bath.  With, like, clorox.  After I pour bleach up my nose.

*shudder*

Frankie and Red sense my spike of disgust.

“Master?”  “H-husband?”

*bap* *tink* *bap* *tink* *bap* *tink* 

Wave them back.  Don’t want them to see… that.

“Oi!  What ye doin?!”  Offended pervert is offended.  “Didn’ ya mum teach ya bettah?”

Professo Disgusto hops off the stool and comes around the table.  Grabbing the dustbin and holding it close.  Protectively.  Like a bold pedophile at a loli convention.

Christ, please don’t pet it and call it “precious.”

*bap* *bap* *bap* 

I can do this.  Visualize.  Be the adult.

“Professo-”

*bap* *bap* *bap* 

You know?  It's a lot louder when you’re this close to… it.

“What?”  Grumpy dwarf is grumpy.

“If we could just talk-”

*bap* *bap* *bap* 

“Git.  Ah’m buzy.”

*bap* *bap* *bap* 

“Could you, please, turn that off?”

Deviant dwarf looks at me like I just said the strangest thing he’s ever heard.

“What?  What it need ahn off fer?”

*bap* *bap* *bap* 

Of course.  Why would you ever need an off switch, for a motorized vagina.

Short sicko turns and stomps towards the other table.

“Git?  Sincin ye here?  Ah’ll let ye watch ta install o ta mark thirty-two.”

Thirty… two?  Are you telling me there were thirty-one other versions?  So, that means…  That under that tarp is…

*swish*

Professor Perv yanks the tarp off the second table and climbs onto a stool next to it.  And under that tarp?

Yep, its a sex doll.

Look back to see priest-wife and knight-wife’s eyes get big as saucers.  Red grabs the hilt of her sword and they both back away a couple steps.

The, uh, robot on the table looks to be feminine and mostly made of metal.  Hope it's a soft metal.  Breasts and butt are grossly out of proportion with the rest of the body though.  Well, the mouth is pretty big too.

Creepy dude starts opening panels on the prone golem and begins humming to himself while checking this and that inside.  The whole time the bin, now on the ground, continues.

*bap* *tink* *bap* *tink* *bap* *tink* 

Agrag walks up beside me.

<My apologies, sir.  Professor Norakhelg is currently in a meeting.  Would you like to reschedule?>

“I…  But I heard he was popular with the students?”

I’m sure I heard that from someone.

<He is very popular sir.>  Blinky Blinkerton.  <bzzt.  Just not with the female students.  Honestly, most male students avoid the professor too.>

“So…  Who?”

<There is a group of male students, every year, who find Norakhelg junior’s work… inspiring.>  Shrugging.  <Granted, those students tend to be ones that have difficulty finding marriage partners.  Indeed, they even seem to prefer remaining in their rooms as much as possible.>

Uh…  Medieval neets?

“Okay.  May need to rethink the golemancy thing.  At least there are plenty of books on it in the library.”

Roboto’s hand covers his glass chestplate.

<This construct humbly offers his services again, sir.  All of Master Norakhelg’s knowledge and skills have been etched into my very being.>

“Don’t you have duties here?”

Would swear the blinking lights are laughing.

<Norakhelg senior left me here to maintain his legacy.  Yet his son forgets to acquire new mana crystals for years at a time.  Letting them deteriorate.>  Was that a sigh?  <Nor will he provide this unit the resources to restore them.>

Distracted by junior pervert squeezing the sexbot’s boobs.  Huh.  That metal is pretty flexible.  I shake my head in a desperate attempt to clean my thoughts.  But still feel compelled to ask.

“How long has junior been working on… that.”

One of Agrag’s arms sweeps to indicate the shelves surrounding us.

<Roughly two hundred years.  If this construct’s chronometer functions accurately, sir.>

Oh god.

“So…  Everything on those shelves…  Is?”

Robotman nods.  But I really wish he hadn’t.

<Iterations on the professor’s masterpiece quest to create the perfect life partner?  Yes sir.>

*urp*

Let's not throw up in front of my ladies.  Well, at least I can now guess what those hose parts were used for.  I even handled some.  Ew.  And Looking at him?  Bet he didn’t clean them before shelving them.

Yeah, going to need a long, long, bath after this.  With lots and lots of scrubbing.

Yes, Ace, Finkle is Einhorn.

Fuck it.

“Fine.  You’re hired Agrag.  Rule number one?  Never touch my ladies.  Got it?”

Are those lights smiling?

<This unit understands and will comply, sir.  Thank you, sir.>

“ One more thing.”

<Yes sir?>

“Say ‘danger, danger isekai robinson.’”

<bzzt.  Danger, danger, isekai robinson, sir.>

Hand tilts.

“Meh…  Five out of ten but we can work on it.”  Turn to my ladies, who are still slowly backing away from the obscene object on table number two.  “Let’s get out of here.  Oh, and on the way out?”  Both look at me.  “Don’t.  Touch.  Anything.”

Borderline frantic nods from the pair.

Face the dwarf deviant again.

“Sorry, Professo Pervo, but I’m going with option-”

*snore*

…

“Agrag?”

<Yes sir.>

“Did…  Did he…  Fall asleep on that boobie?”

<Yes sir.  Norakhelg junior’s sleeping habits have long been somewhat-bzzt eccentric.>

“Huh.  I see.”  Guess that’s it then.  “Any bags to pack?”

Roboto taps the side of his head.

<No sir.  Everything this unit requires to continue Master Norakhelg’s legacy is within me.>

“Good, then lets get the fuck out of here.”

Want to leave this warehouse of discarded sextoys as quickly as possible.

The crew falls in behind me as we blaze a new trail through the dust covered floors.  Making a beeline for the stairs as I wave goodbye to the snoozing creep.

“Audios, pervos.”

---

Some time later…

*snore*

Bremm’s hand, that was in mid squeeze, slides far enough down to hit a switch hidden under the soft metallic skin.

*vrmmm*

*snort*

“Oi!  Shove off ya git!”

The perplexed blinking dwarf looks about before noticing the vibrating breasts beneath him.

“Oh?  Was me gettin a bit handsy wit ya?”  Pats the sexbot.  “Don’ worry, luv.  Ah’ll be fixin tat wit ta next mark.”

Blinks some more as he looks around.

“Did tat bloke take pa’s ol’ armageddon golem?  Hehe.  Tings goin ta go boom, ahgin.”  Hand waves.  “Ah, stuff it.  One less ting on mah plate so gud riddance ah say.”  Wipes his drooling face.  Time fer anudder power nap.”

*flop*

*snore*

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