The Runic Alchemist

The week was passing by in anticipation of the exam much faster than any week before. Students were clambering in libraries and even gathering outside; hallways were filled with clusters of students reading, practicing spells, and discussing topics together.

From the first to the fourth year students were already taking their theory exams. Once theirs were finished, the fifth years would begin. Damian had given his assistants the week off to focus on their own tasks. However, they still came to him and Reize with their theoretical doubts. Damian answered the questions he could, though it was mostly done off-handedly while continuing his work.

Damian had expected the Highsword to take action against him in some way, or at the very least, invite him to demonstrate their strength and glory so that he would reconsider, but they were oddly quiet. He did notice, though, that the guards and staff's attitude toward him had shifted from familiar to more professional—as if he had hurt their deepest feelings somehow. It didn't bother him too much, he didn't care. Still, he missed the friendly faces that used to greet him and exchange small talk.

The High Table should have known about his peculiarities if they had researched him even a little, especially his commitment, which even Eldoris had failed to gain. This invitation felt unusually rushed and hasty.

He had of course asked his friends about Silverspell, as he had barely heard of him. All he got were vague responses: he was a distinguished mage, from a noble family, though no one knew which one. It was speculated that he hailed from Ashenvale. Five years ago, Silverspell had aided in fighting an airborne emperor-ranked monster off the coast of Ashenvale. He was also part of one of the third-ranker sections in Highsword, though Damian had never paid attention to the details, as politics within Highsword were common, and he didn't get too much into it.

And now, he was summoned by the Worldscribe once more. As he neared her office, he noticed that Runefather and Bloodedge were both present. He had assumed they were in one of the nearby staff rooms, but it turned out they were together, seemingly waiting for him.

The guards let him pass, and he entered, taking in the scene. Worldscribe was seated at her desk. Runefather sat in one of the visitor chairs, while Bloodedge stood near the glass window, gazing down at students who were studying or practicing in groups on the grass-filled campus. One chair beside Runefather was empty. Worldscribe gestured for him to sit, so Damian did so wordlessly.

"Why did you reveal it to everyone? I thought you valued your privacy," Runefather asked, looking at him.

"I was just testing it outside. The success of a project I spent months on made me lose my composure. I now see that it was very ill-advised," Damian admitted, acknowledging his mistake.

"Have you really succeeded?" Bloodedge asked, turning around. "I mean, can you replicate the process with others as well?" His face betrayed no emotion, but there was a shadow of a past warrior and soldier in Bloodedge that made Damian understand the true nature of his question—and his underlying concern.

"Yes, I can. Though there are parts that can't be replicated just yet. So even if someone else took it from me or stole all my research, they wouldn't be able to make heads or tails of it," Damian said cautiously.

"Relax, kid. They're on your side. They also want to protect it," Worldscribe added.

Protect it...? Well, he did understand their characters better than the High Table elders. And though still cautious, he felt he could at least speak more freely with them.

"I didn't realize your organization was so foolish..." Damian muttered. "Sorry, but could you not have chosen a less grandiose way to approach something like this? What was the point?" Runefather sighed. Bloodedge turned around, his face hardening slightly as he did. Finally, Worldscribe replied,

"It wasn't us. We wouldn't do something that foolish," she replied after a brief pause. "It came from the Voidshaper's section." Experience tales at empire

Damian knew Voidshaper was another famous third-ranker in Highsword, but he had never heard of a "section" in that context. Sections for what?

"And you people are from…?" Damian asked, half-joking, half-trying to admit he didn't understand all of this.

But both Runefather and Bloodedge merely turned to Worldscribe, as if that explanation was all that was needed.

"What? Headmaster has her own section?" Damian asked, more urgently this time. "What sections? What are you even doing up there?"

The three exchanged glances, then nodded slowly, as if agreeing to something. Worldscribe closed her eyes for a moment and took a breath before speaking:

"We, the High Blades of Highsword, as you already know, number around 27."

Damian, at least, knew the Highsword titles: High Blades were third-rankers, Steel Blades were second-rankers, the Grand Blades were the 12 members of the High Table still third rankers, and the one and only Supreme Blade was the sole fourth-ranker—Asael, The Land Breaker.

Worldscribe continued: "I shouldn't tell you this. You're an outsider, and not particularly trustworthy to be honest. But we decided to share this with you so you can decide for yourself. Since they broke the one condition we had all agreed on, it seems useless to continue with rules and regulations.

"Fifty years ago was the last time we heard anything from our High Commander, The Land Breaker. Like many of us, he used to venture into the dungeon for personal reasons. But one day, he entered and never returned. We searched as much as we could, with the help of people in his dungeon batch, but found nothing. We initially assumed he went above level 72, where even transcendents can't survive the harsh environment, but years passed, and he never came back.

"The High Table took over day-to-day operations, though there were disagreements. Some of us wanted to intervene when the Empire rose against the Four Kingdoms, using weapons of mass destruction. Some of us suggested taking control of the most dangerous ones but not meddling with their affairs, but barely 7 out of 12 members voted against it. We don't dictate people's lives. Despite its harshness, the Empire was still better than many regions in the Kingdoms, and they had the right to do as they wished as long as they didn't kill civilians, so we settled for simply warning them."

Worldscribe's eyes took on a weary, ancient look, as if the weight of all those years had finally crushed her shoulders. She closed them again with a sigh and regained her composure.

Was that.. regret? Considering what the Empire had become, it did indeed seem like a missed opportunity to quell them while they were still young in their ambition.