The Runesmith

“Abyssal resonance detected…”

“Activating anti-illusion protocols…”

“Initializing wake-up protocol. Please stand by…”

Thin lines of text flickered across Roland’s visor. His eyes remained still at first, but then a faint flash appeared, followed by a sound only his ears could detect. Within seconds, his pupils began to dilate.

“Wake-up protocol successful.”

Roland blinked a few times at the text hovering before his eyes. His body remained motionless as laughter echoed around him. A voice rang out, loud and frenzied, as someone shouted proclamations to their so-called abyssal god. He understood immediately what had happened. For a brief moment, he had been pulled into the familiar illusory space conjured by cultists he had fought many times before, but this time he was prepared.

Once free of the illusion, he activated his debugging skill to be certain. No runes glowed in the world around him, and that confirmed his protection had worked. What he saw next was troubling. One of the abyssal cultists danced about, lost in a villainous monologue, while everyone else in the chamber, including the Duke, remained trapped in the illusion.

Roland quickly assessed the situation. The woman held a miniature obelisk in her hand, a perfect replica of the one he had first encountered at Exeor’s Magic Emporium. Back then he had been powerless to stop the cult assassins, but now the circumstances were different. He knew how to block the signal, and the simplest method was also the most direct. The obelisk had to be destroyed.

This was his chance to strip it from her, but there was one problem. He did not have his true rune armor on. If he transformed now, she would clearly see him. To make matters worse, he detected outside presences along with multiple sources of cult corruption. Nevertheless, he needed to get closer because without proper rune armor, he would not be able to awaken the people around him. After activating several enchantments to conceal his presence, he moved forward. Step by step, he approached the strange woman who was prancing around, and eventually, he stood directly in front of the path she was taking.

At this time, she finally noticed something and approached. Her dagger pressed against his cheek and drew blood. He felt multiple curses being applied, but his body resisted them. The moment he saw an opening, he struck. As soon as she realized his presence, he began summoning his armor set, the one forged from Terranite and named Onyx.

Its form was bulkier than his other suits, making his body appear much larger and giving him the appearance of being covered in polished black stone. The fabric on his arm tore away, revealing the silvergrace suit he had been wearing beneath. Once enough of the armor had formed, he drove his fist forward and struck the woman who had been masquerading as Ivan’s wife. To his surprise, her face shattered, and her true form was revealed, but he did not waste time staring. His focus turned to the mini obelisk that now rested in his hand.

“…”

‘Shit.’

With it in his grasp, he could only frown because his first plan could not be completed. Even though he had secured the device and could disable it, the effect would not end. Now that more of his armor had formed, his computing power increased, and his scanning range expanded in all directions. 

He quickly realized there were multiple illusory devices. Even if one was destroyed, the others would continue the signal. The only reason he had not fallen back under the illusion was that his gear was built to resist and block such effects. If he wanted to awaken anyone else, he would need to protect them in the same way.

‘Some people might be able to resist with a little bit of help.’

Roland assessed the situation quickly. The cult member was still scraping herself off the wall, but he was already on the move. A few people nearby could assist him, most notably the Knight Commanders who had accompanied Arthur’s brothers. Each of them was a high-tier, third-class holder. He also considered the Duke, who stood a tier above the others, but something about him was off. The Duke felt much weaker than he should have, which meant he would be of little use in this fight. The better option was to target his personal knights, who were positioned around him.

“Y-you…”

At this point, the woman managed to recover, but it became painfully clear to him that she was something different, a dark witch. This was another class, one that occult beings and people who followed dark magic could achieve, similar to the warlock class. It granted great strength and an extended lifespan, but at the cost of leaving its wielder disfigured. Her appearance resembled a monster more than a human. After a brief exchange, he tossed the useless relic in her direction to distract her.

He then bolted to the side toward his first target. Several choices were available to him, such as the powerful tier three class holders who could likely defend themselves. Even with these options, Roland did not approach them first. Instead, he went to the only person among them he could fully trust, Arthur. Although Roland’s current armor was bulkier than the other runic ones, his speed could not be underestimated. He moved even while parts of the armor were still assembling, and with a few great leaps, he appeared beside his friend.

There was no time to waste. The cultist woman shouted something in the background, but he ignored her. On Arthur’s left hand rested a ring that appeared ordinary yet had been altered by runic enhancements for moments exactly like this. He touched it and let his mana flow into the runes, shifting them rapidly. The strange tones emitted by the occult relics needed to be countered continuously, and though difficult, it was possible.

With his armor now fully assembled, he could maintain the countermeasure and act as a hub that connected to Arthur’s ring. He performed the computations to deflect the attacks, while the ring received the signal and activated the blocking enchantment whenever needed.

The armor he wore was much bulkier than the rest, and its greatest strength lay in its durability and close combat effectiveness. Although made of metal, it resembled polished dark marble, with runes that looked like cracks running across its surface. The shoulders were heavier than usual, and the same was true of the arms and legs. His helmet was rounded with a narrow red visor, and a jutting jaw mask with side slits that allowed him to breathe more easily.

Yet the most striking feature of the armor was not its bulk or design but what extended from its back. Four mechanical limbs jutted outward, each ending not in hands or weapons but in massive slabs of metal. They were incredibly thick and forged from a custom alloy strong enough to withstand nearly any strike.

“You dare? You dare strip me of my Lord’s gift?”

The witch screamed as her transformation began. Her limbs lengthened and her hands twisted into grotesque shapes, yet he could not turn to watch. His focus had to remain on Arthur and the ring that circled his finger.

‘The connection is set. It is now or never.’

He had prepared everything in advance, and within moments the wake-up call surged through. Arthur’s eyes snapped open. His pupils dilated before he regained awareness.

“Huh? Sir Wayland, is that you?”

Even in his disoriented state, Arthur used the cover name, which was something to be grateful for.

“I don’t have time to explain. It is an abyssal cult situation. Here, take this.”

Arthur hesitated for a heartbeat, but at the mention of the cult, his expression hardened. He understood at once and stared down at the objects placed in his hands.

“Give these bracelets to any powerful combatants you can find. The three Knight Commanders who serve your brothers would be excellent choices. I will hold this witch off. My golems will guide you to the other obelisks. We need to destroy them all to wake everyone. I activated the rune on your other ring; it contains your swords.  Now go!”

Roland spoke as quickly as he could, summoning several of his floating golems from the dark backplate on his armor. They scattered through the hall, some of them hovering low to shield the nobles. He held no fondness for these people, but many of them were still young and did not deserve to die. He did not know how powerful the witch truly was or how many cultists had managed to slip into the castle. The relics were the true danger. If they were destroyed, the soldiers would wake and fight, but until then, they remained helpless.

“I will not allow the great one’s plan to be disturbed. All of you will join the eternal dream!”

The woman behind it all was Ivan’s so-called wife. Roland could not tell whether she had enthralled him from the beginning or had only taken on the appearance of his wife, but in the end, it made no difference. Her current form was monstrous. Her lower limbs had split apart and multiplied, twisting into a spider-like structure. She had become an arachnid horror with a warped humanoid torso rising grotesquely from its abdomen.

Multiple eyes bulged from her twisted frame, and a gaping mouth filled with jagged teeth tore open across her humanoid abdomen. Her legs ended in sharp points of bone that pierced the stone floor beneath her. When the transformation was complete, a piercing shriek burst from her second mouth as she lunged forward with reckless abandon.

Roland surged forward to meet her, and two massive maces appeared in each of his hands. Their collision sent tremors through the castle, splitting the stone floor and hurling many of the frozen nobles aside. Roland’s golems moved quickly, projecting shields and casting protective wards to soften their fall.

His mace struck her side and sent her crashing across the floor. The witch screeched and spat a yellowish acid from her smaller mouth. It shot toward him, but before it could land, two of his robotic arms snapped together. They formed a rectangular shield of thick metal slabs. When the acid splashed against it, the surface hissed and sizzled, yet the shield held firm, and the fight raged on.

*******

Arthur gripped the bracelets tightly. The cold metal shifted faintly in his hands as the runes flared with light. He cast one final glance at his friend, already locked in combat with the spider witch, then turned sharply away. There was no time to waste. Every moment the obelisks remained untouched meant that the nobles and their knights stayed trapped in a dream that would soon consume them.

“Will this one guide me?”

A small golem appeared before him and gave a single flash in response. Arthur nodded and sprinted toward the first person he had to awaken. That person could not be mistaken. A towering figure in black plate armor, with bear-head pauldrons and a flowing cape. The Bestial Warden, Theodore’s most trusted champion. Even frozen in mid-motion, his presence was overwhelming. The man had raised one colossal arm to shield his brother, who stood beside him in the same unmoving trance.

For a moment, Arthur hesitated. This was the brother with whom he had quarreled most often. Now his most powerful retainer stood helpless. His two swords were with him, the very ones Roland had forged before their arrival. Arthur knew that with one strike, one problem would vanish forever. Theodore was defenseless, and no one bound inside the illusion would ever know who had done it.

“I am going to regret this.” 

He frowned, then chose to act. He lifted the bracelet and reached up, straining to clasp it around the Warden’s wrist. The knight was a giant of the Goliath race, and Arthur’s arm barely reached. The runes pulsed once, then flared with a bright light as the enchantment was activated.

“Wake up!” 

Arthur commanded, and suddenly, the massive man’s chest heaved. His eyes widened as he staggered forward and looked around.

“What sorcery is this?” 

He was confused and demanded answers.

“Occult arts.” 

Arthur called back. 

“Protect your master and the others. Enemies are coming.”

Without waiting for a reply, Arthur was already moving. The witch might have been the greatest threat, but she was not alone. Her minions were beginning to crawl out of hidden places, ready to strike the moment the plan faltered.

Arthur sprinted across the marble floor, his boots striking sharply against the cracked stone. The spider witch’s screeches echoed behind him and mixed with the thunderous crashes of Roland’s maces as they collided with chitin and bone. Each blow sent out a resounding bang that rattled the windows, and Arthur had to duck aside more than once when chairs were hurled his way.

At first, he was unsure about the order in which he was awakening people. Normally, his father would have been the best option for this fight, but as he looked around, the choice did make some sense. The order created a path forward with the ultimate goal being the Duke and his guards. He had multiple bracelets and could ignore his brothers and their aides if he wished. Even so, they were still his brothers, although he disliked Ivan and Theodore; the thought of letting the other two die unsettled him. With that in mind, he decided to push forward quickly and focused on his next target.

The golem at his side pulsed again, urging him forward. Ahead lay their next target and perhaps their strongest potential ally, Lady Bernadette of the Dawn. She appeared unremarkable at first glance, yet Arthur knew she was a powerful paladin of the Solarian Church. If anyone could be trusted to stand against the abyssal cultists, it was her, and perhaps also his brother.

He hesitated for a moment before pulling out two bracelets. One he snapped onto Lady Bernadette’s wrist, and the other onto Julius. Although Arthur still held mixed feelings about this brother of his, Julius was far better than Theodore, and more importantly, he was a tier three class paladin who could aid them in this fight. That was what mattered most now, and time was almost up. ᴡ ᴏᴠʟ ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛʀs ᴀʀ ᴘᴜʙʟsʜᴅ ᴏ novelꜰire.net

“FOR THE ABYSS!”

Just as the two bracelets were secured on his wrists, a cultist lunged at Arthur. The blade whistled through the air, aimed directly at his throat. Before the strike could land, Arthur’s rapier intercepted it. Sparks of aura and magic scattered as he parried the blow and forced some distance between them.

From within his spatial ring he drew a second heavy rapier, and soon the two were locked in a furious exchange of strikes. For Arthur, this was the first real fight against an enemy determined to kill him. Roland was not there to protect him, and the two who could help were still waking up from the haze of the illusion. They were disoriented, and Arthur knew that in only a few moments, his life might be decided. He had to face this battle alone.

‘Look for an opening. I need an opening.’

Arthur staggered back under the pressure of the hooded swordsman. The man was a tier three class holder, and though his level was higher, the class he relied on was not especially suited for this fight. Life and death hung in the balance. Both rapiers in Arthur’s hands glowed with concentrated aura, and when he saw his chance, he struck without hesitation.

Thanks to his Duel Meister passive, his proficiency with rapiers had increased. In one-on-one duels, this class of his truly shone. Aura gathered on his blade as he thrust forward while at the same time blocking the cultist’s attack with his other rapier.

The duel ended as quickly as it began. Arthur’s thrust pierced through the cultist’s defense, slipping into a gap in the man’s dark leather armor. The blade sank deep, aura burning through flesh and bone. The cultist let out a maniacal cry, his hood falling back to reveal a mask covered with writhing tentacles and a single large eye.

“Yes, I did it… Wait, something is wrong.”

Arthur sensed danger and immediately pulled his rapier out of the man’s chest. He was certain that his strike had pierced the man’s heart, yet the cultist was not fully dead. The mask had activated. Tentacles burrowed into his temples, and his body began to twist and change. Arthur knew this transformation would only produce a far deadlier foe, and he refused to allow it.

He summoned every bit of aura he could muster. The blades forged by Roland glowed with runes, amplifying the crimson light of his aura. His opponent’s form was shifting, sprouting multiple limbs and taking on the shape of an insect. Arthur pressed forward, determined to cut him down before the transformation could be completed.

Arthur’s rapiers became a blur and appeared as twin streaks of red light cutting through the air. He pressed forward with relentless precision, directing all his strength toward the mask. It was the core of the transformation and the only way to stop it. In a single motion, he slipped past the half-insect, half-human monster. Crimson lines spread across the mask, and with a violent surge of aura energy, it split apart…