The Runic Alchemist

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Worldscribe landed another beam of laser, while Lifewarden hurled swords made of golden light constructs at the commander of Highswords, all enraged and shouting at top of their lungs.

However, it was from the side that the most heartbreaking scream of rage echoed through the battlefield. The esper lady who had used the sleeping gas on Damian before now unleashed a whole tide of dangerous purple, molten, poisonous liquid. Even the fumes rising from it made Damian’s stomach churn, forcing him to hold back the urge to vomit.

She must have been close to that lady he’d given his sword to. But Damian did not stop—not for a second. He covered his face with his arm and kept generating more and more liquid mana, the air shield barely kept the venom at bay.

There was no stopping that thing. The only option was to get out of here.

The incantations of mages, the clashing blades of spellswords fighting the sand monsters Land Breaker had created, and even those who were attacking Land Breaker himself—all of it became background noise to Damian. His entire focus locked on his aura, maintaining the steady supply of it to generate more and more mana liquid. He didn’t even dare to use his flimsy runic scrolls, afraid they would draw the monster’s attention toward him.

Spells rained down on Land Breaker, one after another—but the creature simply stood there, unmoving, not even flinching. Maybe the light attribute was doing some damage, but it was hard to tell. It had barely been three minutes since Land Breaker had caught up to them, yet it felt like an eternity.

Suddenly, Damian noticed the night desert illuminated by a crimson glow. He raised his head, peering through the air shield Lifewarden was sustaining. Three massive runic circles shimmered in the sky, layered atop one another—each ring spinning with blazing red runes that pulsed faster and faster. A powerful spell.

Damian’s throat tightened. “Get out of there! He’s launching a powerful spell!”

Mindseer’s voice followed almost immediately. “Silverspell, open a wormhole behind them!”

Silverspell powered the wormhole cube without hesitation, channeling enough energy to open the wormhole—it was not exactly beside the fighters, but close enough. The Highswords, too engrossed in their assault, barely registered the warning at first. But as the urgency in Damian’s voice cut through the chaos, they scrambled toward the wormhole. Worldscribe, however, still kept aiming her laser, stubbornly refusing to retreat as Runefather dragged her in.

One by one, the Highswords jumped through, emerging near Silverspell and Mindseer—who had positioned themselves at a safer distance. But two remained behind, deaf to the warning. Sunkeeper and one of her mage were too focused on their spells to notice the looming danger.

The three-layered runic circle completed its final rotation. A second later, the air rippled—and from the circle fell a massive monster.

Fifty meters tall, its body a roiling mass of molten lava. The air itself warped from the sheer heat, suddenly lighting half the desert around them. Sunkeeper and her mage froze, their eyes wide in disbelief. They didn’t even try to run. They simply stood there—accepting their fate—as the lava monster crashed down on them, engulfing their bodies in searing liquid fire. Their screams tore through the night, sending a chill down Damian’s spine.

Freed from the assault, Land Breaker turned his blood-red gaze toward the escaped Highswords then as if remembering something he looked back towards Damian and Lifewarden. Then—without warning—he disappeared.

Damian’s heart plummeted. A dark premonition clawed at his chest.

Damian hurriedly started weaving a runic circle. He didn’t want to waste mana, but this was an emergency.

Before he could finish, a deafening crack split the air.

The shield Lifewarden had painstakingly maintained shattered in a single strike. Damian’s breath caught in his throat. Land Breaker’s monstrous face emerged through the crumbling fragments, his black sword releasing constant suffocating dark smoke.

“You think these bugs can save you?” The deep voice was amused—filled with loathing. “They improved their trinkets while we were gone.. but it’s all useless against absolute strength.”

Damian couldn’t move. With Land Breaker this close, his limbs felt like lead under his presence. He could only watch helplessly as the half-formed runic circle dissolved into nothing.

In the background, the surviving Highswords fought desperately against the lava monster. But Damian’s eyes were locked on Land Breaker—on the swirling patterns within those blood-red irises. They seemed to burrow into his soul, peeling him apart layer by layer.

Then—through the haze of fear—Damian heard it. A murmur, faint but clear, cutting through the chaos.

“Chaos.. Black God.. I call you by no name, only absolute neccesity. Take my flesh, take my mind—just let me survive this nightmare..”

Praying? To the Chaos God?

Even Land Breaker paused, his gaze flicking to the side, then he ignored Damian and moved towards the origin of the voice. Regaining slight freedom, Damian forced his head to turn, his trembling hand still trying to carve runes into the air. His movements were sluggish, failing again and again.

Damian saw him, drunk in the lava monster’s bright orange glow. It was Shadecaster. One of Sunkeeper’s followers. He was the one praying.

Damian’s mind reeled. The attackers were Chaos followers? Their cult was so vast? That they had half the Highswords already?

What Land Breaker said next made Damian’s heart stop.

“Fellow believer.. Why are you so afraid? Thou’ should have taken that divine name before. Have I killed my own brethren?”

Shadecaster’s eyes widened in shock. Realizing the truth, he abandoned all pretense and began frantically nodding.

“Yes, Half of us, at least. We are devout believers of the Black God! Please.. have mercy on me.” Then hesitatingly he asked, “Are you.. Land Breaker?”

A dark chuckle rumbled from the monster’s throat. “Land Breaker? This human husk I have obtained? No.. I am no such foul thing. My existence is far greater. These mainland bugs cannot comprehend my divine status. I am the only prophet of the Black God to ever exist in a thousand years! They call me Kalainjan-Garey-vi…”

Shadecaster’s face contorted—eyes dilating, breath quickening—as if he had glimpsed the god himself.

His next words sent a chill through Damian’s entire body.

“My Liege..? You are back? Kalaijeh!” Shadecaster collapsed at Land Breaker’s feet, pressing his forehead to the sand. “Finally! The true Lord of Devils is back! Oh, how fortunate I am to witness this! The power! The overwhelming power!”

Damian’s blood ran cold.

The.. Demon Lord.? The Demon fucking Lord from the stories?