Power of Runes

Crap, I knew it...

Looking at the soldiers still aiming their weapons at him, Ash was at least half sure that whatever the dwarf captain's name was, the man was just coating his words in honey to lure him into handing over the item.

But then the captain slowly raised his hand, and the soldiers lowered their weapons in unison.

Their eyes, however, never left Ash for even a heartbeat, sharp and watchful like hounds trained to strike at the smallest sign of movement.

"Aye, lad, I can see why ye would think that way," the captain said at last, his voice steady and deep, the kind that seemed to roll out from the chest rather than the throat. "I understand… aye, I understand it all too well."

He let the moment stretch, his gaze fixed on Ash as if he were weighing every flicker of expression, "But… that item ye carry… it is worth more than gold or steel. If ye hand it over, I swear on my hammer, that I will see ye leave this continent unharmed."

"I will even put me best men on clearing yer name. A dwarf does not break such a promise after all a dwarf's oath is heavier than the mountains"

The captain took a slow, deliberate step forward, "But if ye are thinkin of runnin, I would say think twice. Even with yer space magic, the land itself will not let ye slip away so easily. Every stone here has eyes, lad."

"And for helping ye, I will be needin yer cooperation. And that cannot happen unless..."

The words hung in the air, like a hammer raised high but not yet fallen. Ash finished them quietly, his voice steady.

"...Unless I give you that item."

The prison hall seemed to grow colder, the silence heavy and unmoving, as if even the stones were holding their breath.

They were giving Ash time to think, but he was already certain. If the item was in a space ring, he would already be lying lifeless on the ground. Or, at best, they would be stripping the ring from his finger right now rather than speaking to him.

It was only because they assumed he was a space mage capable of crafting his own personal subspace that they were forced to bargain instead of kill. And the amusing part was, Ash had never claimed such a thing. They had arrived at that conclusion on their own.

Killing him would be risky, because once a space mage died, their subspace collapsed and everything inside was lost to the void forever. That danger alone kept their weapons at bay.

He had a fair idea how they had made the connection. Before entering, they had ordered him to stand upon an intricate array, one he recognized from his own knowledge. It was a detection array specialized to peer into the contents of storage devices, even space rings.

When the array revealed that he carried none, the only conclusion left to them was that his possessions were hidden in a personal subspace. And such a thing could only belong to a space mage.

Ash was not going to correct them.

...Misunderstanding is good. It makes the guard lower...

"Alright then," Ash said at last, his tone calm. "I trust the words of a dwarf who swears on his hammer, at least."

With that, he summoned the item the Principal had entrusted to him. Even now, as it appeared in his hand, he remembered the surprise and confusion he had felt the moment he first received it.

Because the item was…

"Here. Moon Stone and Stellar Stone."

Two boxes appeared in his hands, their surfaces cool and smooth to the touch, each carrying a faint trace of ancient energy that almost seemed to hum under his skin.

They were quickly taken by the Dwarf Captain, who handled them with a swiftness that spoke of both eagerness and care.

He opened each box without delay, and inside, nestled in soft padding, were two small stones, neither larger than a baby's fist. Their faint glow reflected in the captain's eyes, and a satisfied smile crept onto his face as if confirming something only he knew.

In truth, Ash was reluctant to part with these stones. Not because of their rarity alone, but because of what he had learned from the Whisperer — that Moon and Star blessings appearing together within the same era was never a good sign.

The Whisperer had clearly wanted to explain more, but the invisible chains of causality held him back, preventing him from saying too much.

Even so, knowing the dwarves were specifically requesting these stones was enough to make Ash wary. He had already taken precautions before this meeting, marking both boxes as anchors.

He had originally planned to make the stones themselves the anchors, but elemental property stones resisted such interference, and his attempts had failed.

So Ash understood what he needed to do. If he wanted to know what was truly happening in this continent, if he wanted to uncover the demon's power and its reach, he had to give up the item. It was the simplest way to get closer to the truth… and so he handed it over.

"Thank you, you have worked splendidly. Truly… I have no words. But that is as far as your help can go…"

Frowning, while also noticing the change in the way the dwarf spoke, Ash asked, "What does that mean?"

"Simple, really. Your work is done. You just need to die now…"

The last word had barely left the Captain's mouth before the soldiers behind him raised their weapons in perfect unison. Mana-powered guns hummed with stored energy, their barrels glowing faintly.

Others began weaving magic — fire sparked to life, lightning crackled in the air, and wind twisted into sharp currents. All of it aimed directly at Ash's head.

Ash's eyes widened, a flash of disbelief mixing with the sharp sting of betrayal. "You…"

He never finished. The first volley struck with brutal force, his skull bursting apart under the barrage. Holes tore through his body as magic blasts seared flesh and shattered bone. His breath faltered… and stopped.

Ash was dead…

…at least, that was what they believed.

The Dwarf Captain let out a long breath, his smile widening as he looked down at Ash's lifeless body. But there was something disturbingly wrong about the scene — his eyes, and the eyes of every soldier behind him, were completely vacant.

Their pupils were dull, glassy, devoid of any natural focus. And yet, they all wore the same eerie smile, one that radiated a strange, hollow satisfaction.

Without a single word exchanged, they moved in seamless, unnatural coordination. One soldier stepped forward, uncorked a container of highly flammable oil, and poured it over Ash's body. The heavy, pungent smell filled the air.

The flames caught instantly, spreading in waves over his form. Flesh blackened and curled, cloth crumbled into ash, yet no one looked away.

They all stood there, silent, their blank eyes reflecting the firelight, watching until nothing remained but scattered ashes.

Once it was done, they turned together, moving with the same unnatural coordination they had shown before, leaving the area as quietly as they had arrived.

After they left, a minute passed, then another, and another…

Exactly four minutes later, inside the prison cell where Ash had been kept, a small droplet of blood appeared out of nowhere. More droplets followed, appearing and merging toward each other.

They began to swell in size, shaping into the form of a human. Within seconds, a new Ash stood there, completely naked, his expression dark and unamused.

Bloody hell, those motherfuckers burned me… those sons of bitches…

Ash was furious, far more than usual. His plan had indeed been to die, at least temporarily. He had intended to let 'Ash Burn', the identity he was using, be erased from the demon's memory.

After that, he would return under the guise of the Unknown, which would give him freedom to act without any restrictions.

There had been another reason for such a reckless plan. People often revealed secrets after killing someone, whether out of pride, arrogance, or carelessness.

Ash had seen it happen before, and he had hoped to overhear something that could give him an unexpected lead or important revelation.

…but…

They were already under the demon's control. And from the looks of it, the demon cannot speak through those it controls. Then how were they able to talk with me normally earlier…?

Questions piled up in his head faster than he could answer them. He did not expect to be left with so many uncertainties, and he certainly did not expect what came next.

For that fucking bastard to burn my body… I swear I will burn that abomination to ashes myself…

Truthfully, Ash was lucky he had already been dead when they set his body on fire. If he had been alive while burning, he could not say whether he would have stayed still and let them burn him.

After dying, he had managed, through his will power, to delay his resurrection. It had cost him nearly all his mental strength, but it allowed him to avoid detection and deceive the demon for at least a short time.

It had been a strange experience to say the least—watching the world without eyes, seeing his own body burn without feeling the pain, surrounded by that cold clarity and bone-deep stillness. It was his first time experiencing death in such a way.

But at least one of his long-standing questions was answered. Ash had always wondered what would happen if his entire body was destroyed. How would he revive? The answer, it seemed, was simple—

Through blood.

Specifically, blood stored in his soul space.

And what would happen if even his blood was gone?

Ash had no intention of finding out.

Yeah, let's not test my luck. I am already far too good at attracting trouble.

With that final thought, he quickly dressed himself and prepared to leave.

***