Return of the Legendary Runesmith

Reid left not long after saying what he had to.

He understood Adrian's situation—maybe even more than Adrian himself. In his mind, Reid had already weighed the problems Adrian would soon face.

The Patriarch didn't push about bringing his daughter along.

Now, only four people are left in the office.

The first one to break the silence was Annabelle.

"Waah! Ruby, you're going to get married!" she squealed, jumping on Ruby with sparkling eyes.

Ruby froze, just as stunned as the others.

Catching Annabelle before she could knock over the furniture, Ruby blinked and asked, "Wait… you don't mind?"

She had expected Annabelle to explode in anger after hearing her father suggest an engagement between Ruby and Adrian. But her reaction was the exact opposite.

Annabelle pulled back and gave her a puzzled look. "Why would I mind? I always wanted my sister to marry the same man as me." With that, she hugged Ruby again, rocking side to side in joy as if the engagement was already decided.

Adrian let out a quiet sigh. His eyes drifted to Ariana.

"Can we talk?" he asked.

She had been expecting those words and simply nodded. "Yeah."

Neither Ruby nor Annabelle tried to stop them as they left the room.

The corridors were silent. The students had returned to dorm.

Without a word, Adrian and Ariana climbed the stairs and stepped onto the rooftop.

Up here, the wind howled, chasing away the silence. The view stretched wide—beautiful for those who loved nature, unsettling for others.

For a while, neither spoke.

Then Adrian finally broke the quiet. "Should I leave the academy?"

Ariana's head snapped toward him, her brows knitting together. "Why would you even think that?"

Adrian exhaled slowly. "I mean… I could just disappear. No one would find me. Problem solved."

Her eyes narrowed. "So you're thinking of abandoning me, huh?"

His eyes widened. "No, I… Ariana, you know that could never cross my mind."

"Oh really? Then what? You'd keep seeing me while trying to stay hidden? Don't you think the Tower would watch me even more closely if you vanished?"

Adrian fell silent. His shoulders sagged under the weight of her words.

After a pause, he asked softly, "Then what should I do?"

Ariana tilted her head, her voice steady. "Isn't it obvious? You get engaged to Ruby. That way, you gain the Vermillion family's support."

Adrian turned his gaze to her, studying her expression. "And… are you okay with that?"

Ariana let out a small groan. "I'm terrible at hiding my feelings, Adrian. If I was upset, you'd already know." She stepped closer, cupping his cheek with her hand. Her voice softened. "Listen… Ruby isn't a stranger to us. She cares for you deeply, and right now she's willing to put herself on the line for your sake. Honestly… I don't think you could ever find me a better co-wife than her."

A laugh escaped Adrian. "I don't plan on marrying her."

Ariana shrugged lightly. "Still, I have to keep every possibility in mind."

A gentle silence settled between them.

Then Ariana leaned her forehead against his. In a whisper, she breathed, "I love you, Adrian. That's never going to change. I know everything you do is for us—to build the future we want. If this is another step toward that, then I'll accept it."

Adrian closed his eyes, a quiet hum escaping his lips as he pulled her into his arms.

She rested her head against his shoulder, her voice muffled but firm. "Don't ever talk about leaving me. Or this academy. If you do… I'll really be upset."

A soft smile touched Adrian's face. "I'm sorry."

….

Far away from the academy, hidden deep inside a mountain, lay the base of the cult that had been spreading its shadow for months.

The same cult that sent its servants to butcher the innocent, leaving the tournament grounds soaked in blood.

Inside, the base was pitch dark and suffocating. A chilling air clung to the stone halls, thick with whispers of the damned. For once, the place was far more crowded than usual.

A great number of Acolytes returned here today.

By day, these people wore masks of normal life—merchants, craftsmen, even loyal soldiers. But in truth, they were eyes and ears of the cult, living among the unsuspecting to watch, to wait, and to strike when commanded.

In the altar chamber, more than seventy Acolytes had gathered. Each one either held power within the cult or influence in the world outside.

They stood in rigid lines, facing the altar where the Supreme of Skulth would soon appear.

The walls were daubed with dried blood, shaped into the jagged insignia of Skulth. The mark seemed to leer at them, as though alive, hungry for more.

Every figure in the chamber wore a red shroud that hid their faces, turning them into a row of faceless shadows.

The stench of decay filled the air—thick, gagging, like a grave torn open. It reeked of corpses long forgotten.

Yet none flinched. None even twitched. They stood in silence, as if the stench itself was a prayer they had grown to love.

They waited. Their breaths were slow, their heads bowed. The silence was heavy, as though the mountain itself was holding its breath for the arrival of their master.

Suddenly, a crimson magic circle flared to life in the center of the altar, its glow crawling across the bloodstained walls like veins of fire.

Four Acolytes stepped forward from the crowd, turning stiffly to face their brethren. Spears in hand, they planted the weapons by their sides, their heads bowed low in reverence.

The circle pulsed, and soon a dull light spilled out, washing the chamber in a sickly red hue. From within the portal stepped a man in his early forties, his presence bending the silence of the room.

His violet eyes glimmered like cold blades as they swept across the hooded crowd. A faint smirk tugged at his lips before he gave a small nod, satisfied by the sea of faceless followers awaiting him.

Clasping his hands neatly behind his back, he spoke in a calm, deliberate tone that cut through the stillness.

"I am pleased… overjoyed, in fact, to see you all still breathing."

He took a slow step forward, his boots echoing against the stone floor.

"But before anything else—" his voice sharpened like a knife, "—we shall honor those who offered their flesh and blood for Skulth. Our brothers who tore themselves apart to carry out their last duty."

The chamber fell utterly silent. No breath dared rise. No whisper broke the air.

And in that silence, the weight of death seemed to press down on every chest, as though the mountain itself demanded their minute of respect.

After a long, suffocating minute, the leader's voice returned, smooth yet sharp.

"Now then… onto the good part."

He clasped his hands together, almost giddy, his grin stretching wider than before.

"I have finally chosen my successor. The one who will carry this cult when I am gone."

The words struck the room like a thunderclap.

A ripple spread through the Acolytes—shuffling feet, hushed whispers, cloaked heads turning toward one another. No such talk had ever been heard before, and now… suddenly?

For a few years, everyone had assumed the Bishop would inherit the mantle. He had stood closer to the leader than anyone. But the Bishop was dead. Torn apart on the battlefield.

If not him… then who?

The leader chuckled as if savoring their confusion.

"Now, now. Don't waste your breath guessing. None of you could name the one I have chosen." His violet eyes glimmered as he stepped back, laying one hand on the heavy red curtain behind the altar.

Every gaze locked onto him. The silence thickened with restless breath, their anxiety scratching at the stone walls.

With one swift motion, he tore the curtain aside.

Gasps broke out. Some Acolytes stiffened, others flinched as though the very sight had angered them.

A massive portrait loomed over them, painted in dark hues—its subject a bespectacled man whose calm face seemed almost out of place in that chamber of madness.

The leader spread his arms wide, his voice thundering:

"Behold, Lockwood Adrian! The chosen heir! The one who bears the will of the Dark Lord himself! Soon, he shall stand where I stand—above you all!"

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A/N:- Time to change profession, Adrian. Thanks for reading.