The Runesmith

The sun had begun to burn away the morning mist, but the camp remained cloaked in an air of stillness. Two soldiers stood outside the Lord Marshal’s tent, their breath fogging in the crisp air. Their armor clinked softly as they shifted their weight, both visibly uneasy.

“Think we’ll get some leave soon?”

One asked, his voice barely above a murmur.

“I hope so, but knowing the Lord Marshal, he’ll have us patrolling the border again…”

He glanced warily at the tent’s canvas flaps. Their leader was inside, communicating through magical means. No sound escaped the thick material, as it was under a silencing enchantment. If someone were being murdered in there, they wouldn’t hear a thing.

“Yeah…”

They shared a brief, grim chuckle, but their amusement quickly faded. The Lord Marshal’s sternness was infamous, a subject of both dread and legend. They didn’t dare complain too loudly, not while standing so close to his tent. Even in whispered tones, neither was certain their leader wouldn’t hear them through the canvas walls.

Their uneasy conversation came to an abrupt end when the tent flap rustled - and then, without warning, the tent exploded. A powerful force erupted from within, sending the two men flying as a gale of wind blasted outward. Shards of dirt, cloth, and splintered wood flew in all directions, turning the serene camp into chaos.

The soldiers scrambled to their feet, coughing as a cloud of dust and debris settled over the campsite. A sudden, oppressive silence fell over the scene, save for the faint crackle of breaking wood. They stared wide-eyed at the remnants of the Lord Marshal’s tent, now reduced to a jagged ring of shredded fabric and splintered poles.

Their leader, Lord Marshal, Wentworth Arden, emerged from the center of the wreckage. Though smeared with dirt, his silver armor gleamed in the growing sunlight, as if untouched by the explosion. His cape fluttered behind him in a gust of unseen force, his imposing figure framed by a faint, crackling aura of residual aura energy. His gauntleted hand slowly unclenched, and the earth beneath his feet was visibly scorched, as if it had borne the brunt of his fury. His face was a mask of coldness, but his clenched jaw and the flicker of rage in his eyes betrayed his true feelings.

The soldiers exchanged uncertain glances, neither daring to speak. Wentworth’s gaze swept over them briefly, his eyes like steel, before he spoke, his voice calm yet filled with authority.

“We’re leaving, you have ten minutes.”

The two soldiers stiffened to attention, unsure whether they should ask questions or simply obey. Before either could respond, Wentworth strode forward, his voice not loud but easily heard by the thousands of soldiers here.

“Pack the camp and mobilize the men. We march for the northern border.”

The soldier swallowed hard and saluted.

“At once, Lord Marshal!”

As the soldiers hurried off to carry out his orders, Wentworth stopped at the edge of the wreckage and gazed toward the horizon. The morning sun blazed through the thinning mist, its golden light glinting off his polished armor. His eyes fixed on the direction of the inner kingdom, his brows furrowed in thought. For a moment, he stood still, as though pondering an unseen adversary - the one responsible for his fury.

Finally, he turned away. A horse stood ready for him, its dark frame towering and imposing. His troops moved like a well-oiled machine, dismantling and packing up the remaining tents with practiced precision. The camp bustled with activity, soldiers preparing for an unexpected march. Wentworth mounted his steed, a massive warhorse clad in barding as resplendent as its rider’s armor. The animal snorted and pawed the ground, as if sensing the seething anger of its master.

The Lord Marshal surveyed the camp one last time, his thoughts racing. He needed answers - and quickly. Whoever this "man in green" was, his actions had disrupted a precarious balance, pitting two powerful houses against each other and exposing dangerous vulnerabilities in the kingdom’s defenses. Wentworth clenched the reins tightly. Not today, but soon, he would uncover the identity of this man and see justice done.

*****

“Aaa… chooo!”

Roland sneezed, raising a hand to cover his mouth as dust swirled thickly around him. Grimacing, he activated a mana mantle, its shimmering field enveloping him and blocking out the floating particles. He was not wearing his usual armor but a lighter set of gear, better suited for maneuvering through the underground tunnels of his workshop. Also more suited for the messy work he was engaged in now.

Now that his outside obligations had eased, Roland finally had time to deliberate on his future plans. One of his key projects was the expansion of his workshop, a task made possible through magical excavation. He was in the process of pushing some earth away, hoping to create a new facility to aid him and some others.

“The soil here’s a lot drier than in other places, Maybe I should’ve worn a full helmet.”

He dusted off his gloves, the clumps of dirt falling to the ground as his mana mantle let them through. He squinted into the half-finished chamber as he returned to his work. He was wearing a metal harness covered in runes, just spliced together metal to make use of his magic.

“This shouldn’t take long…”

The ground rumbled slightly as it parted. The process was both methodical and straightforward - he had mastered the art of handling earth magic with the aid of his runes. Instead of being discarded, the displaced earth was compacted into smaller blocks, which could later be used as wall reinforcements or ground panels. These blocks, however, required treatment with specific alchemical concoctions. For now, he simply transported them into a container off to the side - one equipped with a spatial rune.

The process was remarkably efficient, far faster than any modern excavation method he had ever heard of. If he wished, he could likely start a construction company specializing in underground lairs, as he had honed this skill to perfection. Once the area was cleared, he used other magical tools and mathematical calculations to identify all the weak points. At these critical spots, he placed support columns, which had been prepared in advance and stored in another spatial rune container.

Using a combination of his mage hand spell and a flotation spell, he positioned everything with precision, requiring little external assistance. His spider golems then moved in to secure the structures, melting the hardened blocks together seamlessly. The process felt almost like playing a game. In just a few hours, he had the entire chamber set up, and many more chambers like this one could be created for his future plans. His goal was to turn the area into a leveling ground for himself and others.

“Should I keep the monsters together or separate them into groups?”

He pondered as he stepped onto the hardened floor he had constructed. The next phase involved creating corridors leading to holding cells, where he would contain monsters. These monsters wouldn’t be used for leveling up but rather for honing specific skills. His plan was straightforward: capture a few tier 3 skeletons. They would serve as training targets for people like Robert and Lucille. While practicing on training dummies was effective, striking an actual creature - especially one of a higher level - was exponentially more beneficial.

“Oh, I should probably test that new theory before deciding anything.”

Roland murmured to himself and moved toward a special rune-covered container resembling a large iron chest. A skull symbol engraved on its side served as a warning about the dangerous contents within. When he activated the spell, the skull symbol began to glow with a crimson hue, and an eerie sound emanated from inside - howling and the unsettling clatter of bones.

“Oh? Does it want to climb out on its own? But it shouldn’t be able to reach outside.”

With a wave of his hand, he activated another spell. Magical energy surged into the container, forcefully drawing out the being inside. The dimly lit chamber was suddenly illuminated by the creature - a skeleton with a flaming skull. It rattled violently but was helpless under the effects of Roland’s telekinetic-like spell, which held it suspended in midair. Its jaw clattered menacingly as it floated before him, only to be unceremoniously dropped to the ground a few meters away.

“These undead creatures are incredibly useful. Most beings wouldn’t survive in a spatial storage space unless it’s reconfigured for them.”

He had conducted extensive research on spatial storage during his time at the institute and planned to deepen his understanding using the new library he now had access to. The chest holding the monster contained a perfectly cubic space about ten meters in diameter, entirely controlled by his runes. The interior lacked air and any planetary atmosphere, resembling the vacuum of outer space. For most living beings, survival in such an environment was impossible - or at least, it would be without specific modifications.

There were multiple types of holding boxes, some being able to slow down time inside while others could even conserve food for infinity. The ones he used created a sort of doorway into another dimension in which he created spatial spaces. In this one he kept this monster inside but perhaps in the future, he would be able to create constructs that altered time itself. It was an old training method from various works he had read from his own world, and perhaps in the future it would become a possibility. However, for the time being he was constrained by some laws and he had not come here to test new spatial methods.

“Here it comes, it does seem to react like a machine.”

The skeleton’s flames erupted as it charged at him. The monster lunged forward, its bony hands reaching out, wreathed in fire. Roland stood his ground, observing its movements closely. The mana mantle around him shimmered faintly as the creature’s flames washed against it, unable to penetrate the magical shield. He raised his hand and with a quick motion delivered a smack to the monster’s bony head.n/ô/vel/b//jn dot c//om

This monster was quite weak compared to him and the moment his palm touched it, parts of its jaw flew off. The monster flew to the side and crashed into the far wall with a resounding clatter. Bits of bone splintered upon impact, scattering across the chamber floor. The flames on its skull dimmed momentarily, flickering as though in protest. Roland chuckled lightly, brushing off his hand as if it had gotten dusty.

“Not exactly durable, did I overdo it?”

The skeleton lay on the ground, battered but undeterred. Despite its lower half being shattered and its left hand missing, it continued to crawl toward him with relentless determination. The creature lacked fear, survival instincts, or even the basic reasoning of his golems, which were programmed to conserve power and employ tactics. In some ways, it was little more than a mindless automaton.

But he wasn’t here to fight or repurpose the creature for another of his golem programs. He had greater ambitions. Monster cores from tier 3 beings offered a far better foundation for his research than this low-level tier 1 skeleton. After reaching into his toolbelt, he retrieved a cube-shaped artifact. Its surface was inscribed with runes - different from the usual kind. These markings were darker, more sinister, radiating an aura of occult power.

Once his mana was applied to it, a dark greenish aura erupted from this peculiar device. The dark green aura snaked outward from the cube like tendrils of smoke, permanating the air around Roland and the broken skeleton. The effect was immediate. The shards of bone scattered across the chamber floor began to tremble, then shift, as if drawn by an invisible force. Roland’s eyes shone with satisfaction as he watched his experiment unfold.

The fractured remains of the skeleton clattered and scraped together, assembling like pieces of a grotesque puzzle. The flames in its skull reignited, this time glowing with a sinister green hue. A strange bone-chilling sound echoed through the chamber as necrotic energy pulsed from the cube, imbuing the monster with unnatural vitality. Its form seemed sturdier now, its jagged fractures fusing seamlessly. Even its shattered lower half regenerated, bone knitting itself back together with eerie precision.

“Hm, interesting. Did it get strengthened by the higher-tier necrotic mana?”

There was an unforeseen side effect to his experiment. His goal had been simple: to test whether he could replicate necromancer spells using his runes, much like he had successfully done with divine mana and healing spells. His primary aim was to restore the skeletal ‘training dummies’ he was developing for skill practice. Capturing undead creatures repeatedly was both tedious and dangerous, and he sought a more efficient solution.

To that end, he had attempted to emulate necrotic mana, intending to ‘heal’ the undead and make them reusable. However, the results exceeded his expectations. He discovered that pure, concentrated death energy could not only enhance these creatures but also overwrite their existing programming entirely.

“Fascinating, it’s not trying to attack me, does it see me as a necromancer or a Lich it has to obey now?”

Roland examined the newly reanimated skeleton, its posture more upright and its movements unnervingly smooth compared to before. The green flames in its eyes flickered with a faint intelligence, though its mind remained bound by the necrotic energies that Roland had infused into it. It stood at attention, awaiting his next command like a soldier awaiting orders.

“Let’s see…Walk forward?”

The skeleton immediately obeyed, taking a few halting steps. The clatter of its bony feet against the chamber’s stone floor echoed faintly. It moved as if he was a true necromancer and had been summoned by his very own hands, yet it still remained a regular monster, something that he could kill to gain experience points.

“Stop.”

The skeleton froze mid-step, its compliance immediate. Roland nodded, intrigued by the apparent responsiveness and also by the fact that it didn’t turn into a summoned creature. If it did, then he would have to readjust his spell. For some reason, summoned monsters made worse training partners, giving less experience to skills for hitting them, probably as a way to keep people from cheating just like he was intending to.

“Perhaps because I’m emulating lich spells rather than necromancer spells, the system still registers it as a monster minion. But I won’t know for sure until someone tests their skills by striking it.”

This unexpected bonus to his magic was intriguing, but not critical. More tests would be required to understand the full implications. Enhancing these monsters carried some risks. If one of them were to go rogue, especially when he wasn’t present at the testing facility he intended to automate, it could become a disaster.

“Now… return to the chest.”

The monster obeyed, turning silently and crawling back into the spatial box from which it had been summoned. That marked the end of this test. However, one thing stood out to him: the lingering presence of these energies. Even after deactivating the cube, he could still feel the oppressive mana of death permeating the chamber.

“If the Solarian Inquisition knew what I was doing now…”

The Solarian Church despised necromancers more than even cultists, and if they ever discovered what he was up to, it would mean a swift execution. Fortunately, he had methods to deal with the necrotic energy in the area, ensuring it didn’t escape. With the aid of divine mana, purging it was a simple matter.

After reaching for another cube - this one inscribed with divine runes - he activated it. The artifact began to glow, and as though disinfecting a contaminated space, the undead mana was gradually eradicated. Anyone who entered the chamber now would believe they had stepped into a holy sanctum fit for Solaria herself.

“Now then, once this place is finished, leveling skills up to tier 3 will be quite simple…”

This was just one of many projects Roland was working on, but now that most of the tedious tasks were out of the way, there was finally enough time to focus on much more. There were multiple ways for him to gain more strength and he intended to push himself forward. Only when he reached tier 4 or close to it, would he begin to stop.

“So, what’s next…”

He glanced over at a nearby blackboard, where a detailed plan was laid out. Several tasks were listed, each requiring attention. All he needed to do now was choose which one to tackle next.