The Runesmith

“Haaa!”

A punch rocketed toward the ogre’s chest with the force of a falling boulder. The massive creature barely had time to lift its club before Armand’s fist slammed into its ribs, collapsing its chest with a sickening crunch. It didn’t even cry out before it was hurled backward, crashing against a stone outcropping like a puppet with its strings cut.

Armand stepped forward, eyes narrowed, blood dripping from his gauntlets. His bare chest, always proudly displayed, was covered only by a runic harness offering minimal protection. As usual, he looked pleased. All around him lay the broken bodies of defeated monsters: shattered jaws, crushed limbs, torsos caved in like cracked eggshells. It was a graveyard built by sheer strength and unmatched technique.

“Hah! Are numbers all they’ve got? This is starting to get boring!”

Another creature lunged at him, this time, a giant scorpion. It tried to catch him in its massive pincers and strike with its venomous tail. Armand didn’t flinch. As the pincers closed in, he kicked them aside and drove a punch straight into the incoming tail. The barbed stinger shattered on impact with his metal-clad fist.

His punch connected with the monster’s head, the force compressing it back into its shell. The kinetic shockwave hurled the creature backward and sent chunks of flesh flying in all directions. Lesser monsters like goblins were thrown aside by the blast, scrambling to escape. Armand stood tall, arm raised, inviting the next challenger.

On the nearby wall, soldiers could only watch in awe as the Frenzied War Monk carved a path through the battlefield with terrifying precision. His punches defied all logic. Monsters dropped like wheat before a scythe, their remains scattered in piles of twitching limbs and shattered bone.

Just as he was about to be overwhelmed, a voice crackled through the communication link.

“Armand!”

It was Roland, his tone sharp with urgency.

“Forget the tier two and one small fry. There’s a lich to the northeast of your location. Kill it first. Don’t let it revive the fallen or summon any high-tier skeletons.”

Armand grinned, teeth bared like a predator. A lich. A tier-three monster. Finally, something worthy of his fists.

“Understood. Northeast. Leave it to this lord Armand!”

He couldn’t see the lich he was supposed to defeat, not with the swarm of monsters blocking his view, but that wasn’t going to stop him. The ground cracked and cratered beneath his feet as he launched himself forward, bounding across the shattered terrain faster than most could follow. As he leaped high into the air, his eyes scanned the battlefield. In the distance, he spotted it, a skeletal figure draped in a tattered robe, standing still amidst the chaos.

Surrounded by undead skeletons and bloated corpse golems. The lich raised its staff, chanting in a language that gnawed at the edges of sanity. Dark necrotic energy swirled around its bony form as it continued to use the defeated monsters around the battlefield to create its undead army. Armand’s heartbeat quickened. The thrill surged through him, not just from the prospect of battle, but from the moment he’d been waiting for.

“The time has come! This is what I’ve been waiting for!”

His skin flushed crimson, and muscles bulged unnaturally as though he were swelling from within. Blackened tattoos erupted across his arms, chest, and face like molten scars carved by infernal fire. Horn-like ridges formed along his brow and jawline, while his eyes burned with a demonic glow. His canines lengthened, his fingers ended in claw-like nails, and his voice dropped as if he had turned into a red ogre himself.

This was one of his skills as a Frenzied War Monk. It allowed him to take on the form of an Oni, drastically increasing his combat power. But the technique came with a steep cost. The blank expression in his eyes said it all—his sanity was slipping away.

A frenzied roar tore from his throat, sending a shockwave outward that knocked back the monsters closing in around him. For a moment, his gaze drifted from the lich in the distance. His focus shifted to the nearest enemy, instinct taking over. He was ready to charge in another direction when a rune on his harness lit up.

The golden symbol pulsed with light, and a radiant glow spread across his body. Tiny golden particles flowed into his reddened form. Moments later, Armand felt his mind clear. His senses were returning.

“That was close…”

For a moment, he stood still, his mind dazed. He had used this skill a few times before, but the transitional phase always disoriented him. Without the harness and the runic devices Roland had crafted, he would have become a mindless beast, lashing out at anything nearby.

Though the power boost was immense, it was completely unsafe around allies. Thankfully, the runic device embedded in his body cleansed the frenzy effect automatically. In time, he might develop a natural resistance to it, but for now, he didn’t need to worry.

“Now, where was I… ah, yes!”

The runes embedded in his harness shimmered, locking his consciousness in place. Armand stood straighter now, crimson energy still radiating from his skin. His fists clenched and unclenched with anticipation. The monsters surrounding the lich began to react, forming a defensive line: bloated corpse golems surged forward, their stitched-together forms reeking of rot and malevolence. Skeletons drew rusted blades and raised cracked shields but it didn’t matter.

He launched himself like a cannonball, crashing into the first corpse golem with enough force to vaporize its upper body. The impact left a smear of corrupted flesh and bone on the ground. A follow-up spinning backhand bisected two skeletons trying to flank him, their bones exploding into powder from the sheer force.

The air trembled with each movement. In this form, his speed defied reason, a blur of red and black that moved through the battlefield with lethal precision. Every swing of his fist sent shockwaves pulsing outward, knocking down the undead like rows of dominos. The lich noticed him now. It raised its staff and began casting a direct attack spell, but Armand was already closing in. There was a reason Roland had sent him instead of Agni. Before the monster could finish the incantation, a powerful kick slammed into its sternum.

“No chance I’m letting you finish casting!”

In many cases, casters could easily defeat warrior types if they kept their distance. But once that gap was closed and they had no time to prepare counterspells, they became little more than targets for fighters like Armand.

The lich wasn’t dead yet. Even as it tried to rise, the only thing waiting for it was another punch. Armand’s gauntlets flared with radiant holy light for a brief moment before his massive fist crashed into the creature’s skull, shattering it almost instantly.

“Oh? Not dead yet? That’s what I’m talking about. It wouldn’t be any fun if you just dropped from that.”

The lich was not quite dead, and its minions swarmed in from all sides. But Armand didn’t let up. With boundless stamina and punches powerful enough to shatter boulders, nothing could stop him. He tore through the encroaching horde, a whirlwind of brute force and relentless motion. From a distance, one of his allies watched the destruction left behind by the Frenzied Monk.

“Mr. Armand is incredibly strong… but that’s only natural for someone fighting alongside Sir Roland. I have to give it my all, too!”

In the rear stood one person wearing armor under a dark crimson robe. She was surrounded by a plethora of golemic soldiers which were used to intercept any monsters that made it through the powerful defenders in the front.

“Lady Curtana, can you hear me?”

“I can hear you loud and clear, Sir Wayland.”

Just as she was about to order her soldiers to move forward to aid both Arman and the man called Aurdhan, she was stopped by the man in charge.

“Good, remain at the wall, you are our last defense, use the golems to take out any monsters that make it through.”

“Ah, of course!”

She felt a hint of disappointment at the order but understood there was wisdom behind it. Compared to the other fighters in their group, she was likely the weakest in direct combat. Still, there were things she could do that they couldn’t, like controlling multiple golems and casting powerful support spells.

“Also, remember, Armand is quite the idiot. He’ll probably burn through all his holy charges on that one undead lich. Restore his gauntlets if you have the time. I told him to run back to you if that happens.”

“Uh, I will! I mean, yes, Sir High Commander!”

Once the call ended, the monsters began moving toward her again. Her golems formed a solid defensive line in front of the gate she was ordered to protect. Her primary task was clear. She could not let a single one through.

The golems she commanded were not as advanced as the ones Roland used. These were refurbished dungeon golems, their original control cores replaced so they could follow new commands. Still, they were made of durable obsidian stone, capable of being melted down and reforged into new parts if needed.

They were hers to command, and she had no intention of letting them go to waste. She knew exactly how much blood, sweat, and tears the dwarven craftsmen had poured into restoring them.

‘I might not be as capable as the rest at fighting, but even I can do this much!’

Some monsters had slipped past the frontline fighters, forcing her to act. She held out her runic grimoire, and as it opened, the page containing a simple rune structure began to shimmer and shift. It started with a white glow, then pulsed into a deep crimson as a large fireball materialized above her weapon.

She pointed forward, and the raging sphere of flame launched toward the approaching monsters, exploding on impact and engulfing them in fire. It was a magnificent sight, watching the creatures burn. Her natural affinities leaned more toward plants and ice, but with this weapon and her current class, she could cast any spell she chose. Within seconds, she had selected the spell and used her transmutation skill to reshape the base runes into the form she needed.

Any monsters that slipped past her spells were quickly intercepted by her golems. Their spears struck with precision, dispatching the enemies efficiently. She focused her casting on threats the golems couldn’t handle. Fortunately, her allies were holding the line well, and so far, no tier-three monsters had reached her position.

Suddenly, a sharp CLANG echoed across the battlefield. Her eyes shifted toward the sound, where her most important ally was locked in combat with a strange monstrosity. It was a Blade Demon, a demonic creature with four arms, each ending in a dark, sharp blade.

Its opponent was her husband, who was wielding his new armor with ease. The demon’s weapons could not pierce the reinforced metal plating, while his own sword, encased in blue flames, was slicing through the demon’s limbs one by one. By now, it had only a single blade arm left.

“Ha!”

With a clean vertical slash, the monster was cut in half, and the blue glow around his blade faded. Almost immediately, a new rune flared to life on his shield as another similar creature lunged at him from the side. Its blade struck the metal surface, but the enchanted barrier absorbed the blow without leaving a mark. Robert pivoted smoothly and, with a swift slash, removed the creature’s head in one precise motion.

‘How is it this easy…’

The thought lingered as he surveyed the fallen enemies around him. He was beginning to grow accustomed to his new class and its style of combat. Every time he needed to defend himself, he simply activated the appropriate defensive rune. Slashing weapons, blunt force, even spells, everything could be countered, as long as he had a moment to read his opponent.

All of this was only possible because of the specialized armor he wore. The alloy had been custom-forged to suit his new skill, Imbued Rune. The same applied to his shield and sword, each piece crafted to complement his abilities. Still, he knew he had a long way to go. Until he could switch runes in the blink of an eye, he wouldn’t be satisfied, and mastery would only come only with relentless practice.

His battle resumed as he turned his focus toward monsters vulnerable to heavily armored knights. With each precise strike, he exploited their weaknesses. Overhead, a fearsome duo was dealing with the flying enemies so effectively that he didn’t even need to glance upward.

“Agni, a bit to the left!”

“Awooo!”

Lobelia rode atop Agni, using the great beast as her mount while letting her bowstring speak for her. With every notched arrow, another monster fell from the sky. Each shot struck with pinpoint accuracy, piercing the eyes of the bloodthirsty vulture-like creatures as they dove toward the battlefield.

“We make the greatest team, Agni!”

“Woof!”

Lobelia chuckled as Agni conjured glowing platforms in the air, allowing them to maneuver freely above the battlefield. The flying monsters swarmed toward them, but neither wavered. Her bowstring moved with blinding speed, loosing arrows like a rapid-fire rifle. Each shot was clean and lethal. Arrows materialized instantly from a spatial rune, appearing mid-draw for seamless use. With this kind of prepared firepower, defeat wasn’t even a consideration, and she was thoroughly enjoying herself.

Below and around them, Agni unleashed waves of divine fire. His flames rained down, incinerating undead and demonic enemies alike. Together, they swept through the skies, clearing out enemy fliers just as their leader had ordered.

“I wonder how our great leader is doing…” 

Her keen archer’s eyes focused on the distance. She spotted a bizarre monster: a massive turtle-like creature with three serpent heads writhing from its shell. The beast was attempting to devour the strange floating golems deployed by their commander, but their small, agile forms made it nearly impossible to catch them.

‘Everyone seems to be doing fine, I just need to get rid of this thing, and the wave might end.

Roland found himself facing the strongest monster on the field. Roland hovered in the sky, runes flaring across his body and the Leviathan armor glowing with potent water mana, he felt the temperature spike again. The magma vents on the creature’s shell exploded in synchronized bursts, forming a spiraling storm of flame that raced skyward toward him.

He surged to the side, twisting in midair, but the attack’s range was too wide to fully evade. The thermal shockwave slammed into him, but a thick barrier of water energy absorbed the brunt of the heat. Steam hissed around his body, cloaking him in a dense mist for a single heartbeat, just long enough to make the soldiers on the wall fear their savior had been caught in the blast.

Then the mist burst outward in a wave of pressurized water, revealing Roland unscathed. His armor gleamed with lingering energy, the glowing runes flaring briefly as they vented the excess heat. The Leviathan Set was proving effective; he barely felt the temperature.

The monster roared in frustration and unleashed a torrent of searing flame, furious that he had lasted this long. But Roland’s golems swarmed around its many heads, disrupting its aim and keeping it from locking onto him.

‘I need to take out those vents. That has to be its weak point.’

While the monster was vulnerable to water and cold, the real challenge lay in lowering the temperature enough to make a difference. Few could withstand, let alone counter, the overwhelming heat radiating from its body, but Roland was no ordinary mage or craftsman. With his new armor equipped, all water-based spells were enhanced, and even ice magic saw a boost. It was time to start shifting the battlefield in his favor. He would begin with a simple tactic to bring the temperature down, by tossing some water bombs into those volcano openings.

Roland dove toward the monstrous turtle, narrowly avoiding another pillar of flame. In his hand materialized a large sphere, a variation of an old signature weapon. Without hesitation, he streaked toward the creature’s back, weaving through jets of molten lava and clouds of dark smoke. When he spotted an opening, he hurled the sphere inside. A moment later, it detonated with a watery burst, flooding the interior with a surge of water and glacial energy.

The explosion sent a pillar of steam blasting into the air, briefly obscuring the monster as water met molten rock. For a few seconds, it was impossible to see whether Roland had succeeded, but the turtle-like monstrosity answered that question with an earth-shaking roar, stumbling forward as scalding mist poured from its vents. One of the serpent heads writhed in agony, steam rising from its slackening jaws.

Roland didn’t pause to celebrate. Another bomb was already forming in his hand as he darted to the opposite side of the beast, weaving between fireballs. His floating golems zipped around the monster, drawing its attention and buying him precious seconds. When a second vent began to glow red-hot, signaling another eruption, he hurled the bomb without hesitation.

It struck true. Steam burst outward as the intense heat clashed with the cold watery energy of the weapon. As the temperature dropped, a crackling layer of sub-zero energy spread across the vent, freezing it solid and halting the eruption. The monster howled, its internal lava flow disrupted. Pressure was now building dangerously beneath its shell, and if this continued, it spelled disaster for the massive monster. 

Roland grinned. Everything was unfolding exactly as planned. But just as he prepared to target the remaining vents with his freezing water bombs, the beast shifted. Its entire body turned a molten red, glowing like heated metal. Waves of searing heat rolled off its shell, and even with the protection of his enchanted armor, Roland could feel the temperature spike…