The Runesmith

The great stone towers of Valewatch Keep pierced the afternoon sky, the Valerian banners fluttering in the highland winds. From the highest balcony of the inner keep, the sweeping view extended far over the green plains and hills that formed the core of Theodore Valerian’s lands. The city below bustled with activity: civilians rebuilding walls, knights tending to their wounds, and smoke rising steadily from smithies and workshops. Despite the scars left by the recent dungeon break, Valewatch remained standing with minimal damage.

Inside the fortress, torches cast long shadows across the arched ceilings of the war room, a circular chamber built deep into the heart of the castle. Maps and ledgers covered the long table at its center, weighed down by steel markers denoting troop placements and city conditions. A scent of iron, sweat, and parchment hung in the air. 

The doors opened with a heavy groan. A knight in full plate, burnished and bearing fresh battle-scratches, strode inside. He said nothing, moving directly toward the man seated on a large throne before a map of Dragnis Island. At the center of the map rose a towering volcano with a figure of a dragon on top.

“My Lord Valerian”

He said. His voice was steady, though a trace of fatigue lingered beneath the surface. 

“We’ve completed the sweep of the southern pass. The dungeon’s corruption has faded. Most of the surviving monsters have been purged.”

Theodore sat back on his throne as if he were already a duke. He didn’t rise. He didn’t need to. Instead, he rested the side of his head on his hand and waited. His armor remained pristine despite the chaos of recent days—polished to a mirror shine, gilded along the seams, and marked by the stag-engraved pauldron that signified his authority as the duke’s son and acting commander. 

His gaze was sharp, with auburn eyes framed by a hawkish nose and arched brows. Unlike his younger brother Arthur, his hair held no hint of white. It was pitch black, slicked back to reveal a high and wide forehead. He looked like a man nearing his thirties, someone who had little patience for opposition. His focus remained fixed on the knight who had delivered the report, and finally, he spoke.

“Tell me, what of the casualties?”

“High, my lord. Many of the commoners have perishe…”

Before the knight could finish, Theodore raised a hand to silence him. His expression darkened.

“Our soldiers.”

“Ah, yes, of course, my lord. Our forces suffered only minimal casualties and we managed to defend most of our settlements… but…”

“But?”

The knight hesitated. Though he had faced monsters and horrors from the dungeon itself, it was the weight of Theodore Valerian’s gaze that made him falter. The silence in the war room became oppressive, like a blade pressed lightly against the neck.

“But… the cities took the brunt of it. Infrastructure is in ruins in both Harkendale and Greybridge. Supply lines have been disrupted, and we lost several key experts and healers during the first wave.” 

He paused before adding.

“We also have… refugees. Thousands. And not all of them are from our domain.”

“We must be careful of spies, I’m sure our enemies will use this as an opportunity!”

Another voice entered the conversation, it belonged to an older man and was rather dry.

“Vellan brings up a good point.”

Theodore nodded, already deep in thought. In his mind, this was the perfect chance for his eldest brother to expand his influence. Sending people into the cities during reconstruction would be easy. They could lie in wait and disrupt operations later. Now was not the time to worry about refugees or a few injured commoners. He had to protect his power base and prepare to strike back. If his brothers could benefit from the chaos, so could he.

“Focus on repairing our defenses. Any refugees can wait outside the city walls. Send our agents into Julius’s lands. There’s no way they handled the dungeon break better than we did.”

As the orders were being handed down and scribes rushed to record Theodore’s commands, the discussion shifted to less significant locations. His domain included a mix of major and minor settlements, but his eyes lingered on one spot near the city of Albrook. Just as he was about to ask about the city closest to it, the doors to the war room flew open.

“My lord, news from Aldbourne!”

“Aldbourne? What about it?”

Vellan, his chief advisor, turned to the man who had stormed in. He was a member of their intelligence unit, authorized to deliver sensitive reports in times of crisis. Judging by the sweat on his brow, Theodore was already expecting the worst.

“We’ve lost contact with our forces stationed there. No signals have come through for two days.”

The man handed over a sealed report. Vellan took it and scanned the contents quickly, his expression tightening with concern.

“This… they’ve been rejecting our magical queries. The chances of foreign interference are high. But from Albrook, of all places? That doesn’t make sense…”

Theodore listened intently, his mind already racing through possible scenarios. When the report was handed to him, he read it swiftly and thoroughly. Aldbourne had requested reinforcements, but the plea had been dismissed. Command believed the threat had been exaggerated, so troops were diverted to areas considered more critical.

Now it appeared that a foreign force had moved into the area. According to intelligence, that force operated under the banner of his younger brother, Arthur.

“What is that bastard doing… Do they take me for a fool?” 

He wouldn’t be deceived. It was clear to him that Arthur was not acting alone. Someone else was pulling the strings, most likely Julius, the most powerful and dangerous of his brothers. Theodore saw through the ploy. This wasn’t about Aldbourne. That city was the distraction.

He would not take the bait. He would not waste his forces trying to reclaim a city already lost. Instead, he would reinforce the other flank, where the mines, grain stores, and key trade routes lay. That was where the real prize was, and he was certain Julius knew it too. Aldbourne was not the goal. It was the opening move in a larger game, and Theodore had no intention of playing it on someone else’s terms.

“Alphonse!”

“Yes, Lord Valerian?”

The knight commander stepped forward and knelt before his lord. Theodore’s eyes narrowed as he studied the man. Aldbourne had fallen under Alphonse’s area of command. While it reeked of a distraction, Theodore couldn’t afford to leave the city in enemy hands. It was too exposed, too close to his borders, and letting it remain under foreign control would send the wrong message. He would not commit to a full campaign. That was exactly what Julius wanted. But he also would not sit idle. A measured response was necessary.

“Gather a detachment. A modest force. Enough to retake the city and reestablish control, nothing more. We are not walking into their trap.”

Alphonse bowed his head in acknowledgment.

‘The situation is manageable. Albrook has been expanding, but they still lack the strength to challenge us directly. The recent dungeon break will keep most of their forces occupied.’

Theodore nodded as he thought to himself. He knew Julius was behind this. It was a tactic meant to stretch him thin, to force him to divide his forces. But he would not fall for it. He was well aware of the slavery taking place in that city, but even if it were exposed, nothing could be traced back to him. He had prepared scapegoats for exactly this kind of situation. He had to give his older brother credit for being clever enough to see through it, but he would not be fooled. He was smarter than Julius, more cunning than anyone, and he would be the one to become duke.

*****

“Is… is it over?”

“I don’t see any more… It has to be!”

The sound of clashing steel, monstrous howls, and explosive magic had faded, replaced by cheering. On the battered walls of Aldbourne, soldiers raised their weapons high, their dirt-covered faces split with tired grins. Victory songs echoed across the ramparts: hoarse, uncoordinated, but joyful. The dungeon break was over. The last of the aberrations had fallen, their bodies joining the others that were shot down by magical golem blasts from afar.

Among the soldiers, cries of relief and laughter rose into the air. Some dropped to their knees in prayer, others wept openly for the comrades they had lost. In the distance, the bells of the Solarian Church began to ring. Three long tolls echoed through the streets, a signal that it was over, that the city was safe, and its people could finally breathe.

Hugs were exchanged, voices lifted in joy, and for a moment, the weight of the situation began to lift. But not for Roland. He stood motionless among the celebrating crowd, his expression hidden behind his rune helmet. He didn’t smile. His eyes were fixed on the horizon and beyond it. The monsters were gone, the dungeon break was ending, but this wasn’t over. Not yet.

“Will they make it in time?”

He mumbled to himself while surveying the battlefield, his eyes drifting over the bodies of nearly a thousand monsters that now lay scattered around the city’s outer walls. The giant turtle-like beast had been the greatest threat, and though he had managed to hold the others back, that didn’t mean the city had gone unscathed.

Even before he arrived, people had died. Some had been killed by monsters. Others had fallen victim to panic and desperation, murdered during the chaos as looters broke into homes and violence spread unchecked. There simply hadn’t been enough soldiers to protect everyone. Still, in the grander scheme, it was a victory. A hard-fought one, but a victory nonetheless. The gates still stood. The people were alive, but Roland’s gaze never left the horizon.

“What’s wrong? Are there more monsters coming?”

Roland’s thoughts were broken by the voice of Armand. The man was soaked in blood and brown liquids, a mixture of fluids from the dozens of monsters he had helped slay. It clung to his body, making him reek. Though after some cleaning magic it was soon fixed. The harness made to control his battle frenzy had worked well, though Roland knew it still needed refinement.

“Monsters? No, those are gone but something worse is coming. Get some rest while you can.”

“Something worse?” 

Armand tilted his head and then smirked.

“Oh, that sounds great! More things to punch!”

He actually looked excited. His level had increased several times since they arrived, and judging by his grin, he was eager to climb even higher. Roland had gained power too. With a slight jerk, he glanced at his status screen, confirming his new level. The numbers had gone up, his strength had grown, but in his mind, it still wasn’t enough.

“Don’t tell me… could those enemies be ones flying a stag banner?”

Armand’s grin faltered as someone else approached. Before Roland could answer, another voice joined them. Aurdhan, the guild master, approached with his massive axe slung over one shoulder. His expression was grim, his tone far from amused.

“Fighting monsters is one thing, but I will not involve myself in your little squabble between noble brats.”

Roland wasn’t surprised. Aurdhan had likely seen this coming. The man was too seasoned not to. And while his strength would have been a great asset, Roland knew the limits of their agreement. The contract they had signed didn’t mention anything about fighting other nobles or engaging in political wars. At best, Aurdhan could be asked to defend Albrook if it came under direct attack. But this city wasn’t even officially theirs. Still, Roland wasn’t planning to let him walk away just yet. There was work to be done.

“Don’t worry. I have a different task for you.” 

He gestured toward the field of monster corpses that surrounded the city. 

“See all of that?”

Aurdhan glanced over and gave a tired nod. 

“Yeah? What about it?”

“There are still plenty of adventurers in the city. Take them. Gather every monster body out there. We need the crystals and parts.”

This was still part of the culling event. Most of the danger had passed, but there were quotas to meet. Every monster part mattered. Mana crystals, monster cores, claws, hides: all of it would be counted toward their final score. And with monsters still roaming the outlands, especially near abandoned villages, there was no shortage of work left.

“You want me to do grunt work?”

Aurdhan raised an eyebrow, but Roland didn’t flinch. 

“Do you have anything better to do?”

Aurdhan grunted, then gave a sharp exhale that might have been a laugh. 

“Fine. But I expect a very generous cut of the rewards.”

“Of course”

Roland replied without missing a beat.

“Just make sure everything is documented and secured. If we’re going to get credit for clearing the dungeon break, we need to submit…”

“I know. You don’t need to explain.”

Before he could finish, Aurdhan was already turning away with a grunt. It might have seemed disrespectful to wave off the High Knight Commander like that, but Roland didn’t mind. The guild master wasn’t one for ceremony, and right now, efficiency mattered more than etiquette.

These monster parts weren’t ordinary. Every creature from this dungeon break carried a unique mana signature, impossible to replicate or forge. The loot would be tallied and verified by mages from the Valerian household, a rare but strictly enforced process. The more they secured before reinforcements arrived, the more credit Albrook would receive and the stronger their position would be in the aftermath.

Theodore’s troops were likely already on the move. Roland estimated they would arrive within a day or two at most. That meant time was short. He had no doubt they already knew of his involvement, but how large their force would be or whether it would lead to an actual battle remained uncertain. Fighting monsters was one thing. Facing soldiers under a noble banner was something else entirely.

Roland turned away from the ramparts. His armor clinked softly with each step as he descended the crumbling stairway into the city proper. All around him, the people of Aldbourne were emerging from shelters, peering cautiously at the sunlight as if expecting another wave of monsters to come charging through the gates. He passed mothers clutching children, elderly folk kneeling in silent prayer, and battered soldiers leaning against broken walls with expressions of exhaustion etched deep into their faces.

This was the reality of the situation. These people had been abandoned and would have died if not for him. Yet, if he asked them to fight for him and for Arthur, he was not certain they would follow. He was beginning to move into unfamiliar territory, and the tier-three ascension ritual was the closest thing he had experienced to actual war training.

The aftermath of the dungeon break had left the city hollowed but still standing. The monsters had not managed to breach the walls, and most of the houses remained intact, suffering only minor damage. A few monsters had used ranged attacks, causing some internal destruction, but nothing that couldn’t be repaired within a week or two. As he moved through the city to inspect the damage, people cheered for him and his companions. They saw them as heroes walking among them, unaware of what was about to unfold.

He ordered everyone to take a break. They had been fighting monsters for two full days without any sleep. Lucille was the most affected among them, and Robert had to support her as they walked. Agni stayed close by. His energy was still high, but he needed rest too. The next battle could begin at any moment, and they had to be ready.

The city was still under lockdown, and everyone from his group had gone to get some rest, but he stayed alert, returning to one of the gate towers to use as his temporary station. There he remained with Agni, keeping watch, waiting, and planning. Soon, in the distance, he heard the sound of hooves… 

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