The Runic Artist

Nate placidly watched as his three Conceptual Constructs threw themselves at Lord Sag’thoz. The physical forms of the Concepts of Acid and Barrier sailing through the air as they closed with the Demon Lord while Shadow vanished, likely moving however it did, for the demon's own shadow. Without any warning, all three constructs disappeared, appearing a moment later at Nate's feet. The three Concepts given form struggled as though they were pinned to the ground by an unseen force. The weird part for Nate was this was the second time something had entered his sphere of awareness without him sensing anything. Even now it was like the constructs weren’t really there, nor could he sense what was holding them down. It was as though they didn’t exist. The first time was when Arikanvil had entered the range of his Awareness of the Runic Artist. He spared a glance up the walls of the valley for the purple God.

The constructs continued to writhe and fight near his feet, railing against whatever force was keeping them constrained. Even as they did so, he could tell they were finally running out of mana to power themselves as one by one they failed, leaving the ruined remains of the materials that had functioned as their cores. Shadow was the first to go, dispersing slowly as it grew smaller and smaller, wisps of darkness evaporating from its edges like a torn cloak being eaten away piece by piece. When it was gone all that remained were four tarnished, cracked and chipped black scales. Acid followed a moment later, the amorphous blob slowly shrinking until it looked like a puddle of slime before the ends of the wand poked out. What had once been a solid and beautiful piece of wood looked like a diseased and rotten twig, breaking in half before his eyes. Barrier held out the longest and he wondered if that might have to do with the number and complexity of the runes carved into it or just the nature of the Concept itself, able to even ward against its own destruction. Still, it failed, shrinking on itself and even before it finally collapsed he could see the Legendary bracer was destroyed. Whatever had been sealing the constructs finally vanished, though he still felt nothing except for the sudden physical presence of the three items in his sphere of awareness.

His Awareness of the Runic Artist told him that all three materials were only Common grade and he could no longer sense any affinity in them. Conceptual Automation had exacted its price. Three of his creations destroyed. A hefty price, but cheap when compared with his life. He could make more items, even if these held sentimental value. Maybe he could even repair them. He placed all three in his spatial storage before looking back up atop the hill. With a glare for all three he began walking amongst the corpses. There was the possibility of Orbs after all and there was no fucking way he was leaving them for the demons if he had his way. The bunch of cheating cunts had tried to execute him and he was going to take them for all they were worth, or at least as much as he could get.

He was still fuming as he approached the corpse of the Temporal Executioner. His sphere of awareness could sense the Orb in its chest and he used True Teleportation to bring it to him as there was no mana left in the demon's flesh to resist his skill. He quickly moved it into his spatial storage before heading for the Master of Blood. Before he could get closer to the second demon's corpse the Demon Lord’s voice boomed throughout the valley.

“Stop! You have passed the three trials. Any remains belong to me! You will have your prizes and no more! Now, give me the Orb of Jazguth,” demanded the Demon Lord, his gaze imperious as Arikanvil watched on without any emotion that Nate could read.

His anger bubbled to the surface and he stared at the Demon Lord who had abducted him in defiance, “Make me, if you dare.”

He knew the Demon Lord could destroy him, likely with little more than a thought, but he also knew that the Demon Lord feared the consequences of doing so. The System would exact its price from the Divinity for any violation of the Law of Reciprocity. As far as he was concerned he was entitled to any remains. He had been the one fighting for his life. He had been the one to kill every single demon that littered the valley floor. Any remains belonged to him.

Lord Sag’thoz looked ready to say something before hissing through his teeth in frustration. A moment later red flames licked the edges of every corpse remaining in the valley before the bodies and body parts began flying through the air in some sort of macabre dance that looked like a tornado of flesh and bone that settled beside the Demon Lord in the space of just a few seconds.

He glared at the Demon Lord, but he was clearly bound by the rules and so all Nate could do to twist the knife was make his demands known, “The trials are over. Time to go to your vault! I am able to take one thing per trial I survived right? So that is three things!”

Arikanvil finally moved, nodding, “That was what was agreed.”

Between one moment and the next Nate went from standing in the valley to standing before a grand circular vault door that stood many times as tall as he did. Again, he’d felt nothing. Somehow Arikanvil was manipulating space in a way that he was unable to sense. He couldn’t understand how that was possible though he supposed a God must have access to skills at least one tier beyond mythic. That wasn’t the only interesting thing. His Awareness of the Runic Artist couldn’t press beyond the vault door. Searching over it he could sense enchantments, but no sigils. By the Gods how he hated the way Enchanters concealed the sigils they used. The vault door clearly employed a method that was at least of the Mythic tier. He kept running his skill over the surface looking for any hints of a sigil and wondering what Concepts were being incorporated.

Before he could get an answer from Runic Knowledge he saw the blood red flames appear as he sensed the Concepts of Fire and Greed. A moment later Lord Sag’thoz and Xalvoloth stood next to them. Slower than Arikanvil was all he noted, even as the Demon Lord pressed his hand against the door of the vault. It swung open ponderously and he used that time to look over the two demons. Lord Sag’thoz seemed aggravated and he had a suspicion the Demon Lord just wanted them gone, specifically Arikanvil. Xalvoloth was entirely different and the shadow-skinned raptor-like demon seemed utterly deflated. Good, was all he could think. It was likely that bastard's fault he’d ended up here in the first place.

With a loud thump the vault door finally finished opening, revealing the contents within. Off to the side was a pile of glittering gems filled with mana. The pile was at least three metres tall and stretched out into a pyramid in a kaleidoscope of colours. His sphere informed him that the qualities of the gems ranged from Rare up to Legendary though the latter were few and far between. The gems only seemed to contain mana, not processed mana, so he summarily ignored them. There were numerous piles of armour, weapons and shields. Among the piles of equipment, Legendary items were far less common and he only counted ten in total, even with the piles standing taller than he did. Spoils of war he supposed. But he’d already sensed some things that were far more interesting.

Snaking his way through the piles he found twenty three podiums at the back of the vault. He found that Arikanvil was already there. The Divinity was standing before what looked like a golden leaf that seemed to phase in and out of reality.

“For the advice given and support provided I will be taking one of your rewards as payment,” stated the purple God. The next moment the golden leaf was held between two of Arikanvil’s gigantic fingers. The God's four eyes swivelled to Sag’thoz and he spoke again, “I expect to see his return to where he was taken from shortly, or else a Herald might decide to pay you a visit.”

The next second Arikanvil was gone. Nate could sense that Sag’thoz was grinding his teeth while Xalvoloth seemed to be heaving and he wondered if the demon was crying. Could demons cry? He decided he didn’t care and made his way among the podiums. He could sense alarm enchantments covering each displayed item but no barriers against his Awareness of the Runic Artist as he surveyed his options.

A small diamond that shone in the colours of the rainbow.

Crystallized Soul of a Lightning Dragon (Mythic)

A small grey metal box covered in tiny whorls reminiscent of the geometric shapes he used in runes with a symbol on it that he didn’t recognise. He couldn’t sense the contents of the box.

Puzzle Box (Unknown)

An arrow that looked like flowing blood.

Heartseekers Arrow (Unknown)

A golden horn that buzzed with the Concept of Defiance.

Last Sound of the Forty-Second Celestial Choir (Mythic)

A silver pocket-watch that didn’t seem to be moving.

Watch and Wait (Unknown)

A box that contained eight tiny orbs. He noted they were significantly smaller than the ones he extracted from slain creatures.

Skill Enhancement Orbs (Legendary)

A black and misshapen still beating heart.

Prideful Heart (Unknown)

The list went on. There was a staff that looked like it was made of starlight, a ring that reeked of malevolence and other relics, though everything else on the podiums returned Unknown for its tier. He suspected that meant they were beyond Mythic. A stage he had begun to suspect was Divine. Still, he had to choose two items. The question was, did he want to take a risk on one of the unknowns or go for something he knew would be useful. His eyes kept drifting back to the eight Skill Enhancement Orbs. If they functioned like the Class Core Enhancement reward from Dungeons, then they should guarantee a skill evolution to Mythic. He doubted that they could push beyond that, given the tier of the Orbs was Legendary. He still had six skills currently that were Legendary and another four skills to come from his Secondary Class that were likely to be Epic at best. It also meant he could always share a few of the Skill Enhancement Orbs with Kiri. He could be selfish and keep them all for himself, but that hadn’t and would likely never be the path he chose to take. He didn’t want to walk his path alone. He didn’t want to leave his friend behind.

That still left him with one item to pick. His eyes roved over the various treasures. He could’ve taken something like the silver stopwatch, which he was confident had an affinity for the Concept of Time and was likely a tier above Mythic. It could be a future safeguard in case something like this ever happened again, having seen how strong his Conceptual Constructs made from Legendary materials and using processed mana had been. How much stronger would a beyond-mythic Time Construct be? Especially if he collected more processed mana to power it? Scooping up the Skill Enhancement Orbs he went back to look at the Puzzle Box. The fact that it seemed to show some similarities to his runecrafting was only one of the reasons he was debating choosing it.

The symbol on it was an eight pointed star inside a circle with smaller stars in the same shape interspersed within it. He’d have said it was a Sigil except that his Divine Translation didn’t tell him anything. That meant that either it wasn’t a Sigil, or that it was a Sigil that Arikanvil didn’t know. It meant he was taking a chance, but he wasn’t confident there were any other items he could use outside of his Conceptual Automation skill. Or he supposed he could carve runes into them. The fact that he couldn’t sense what was inside the Puzzle Box was just the icing on the cake. Making his decision he scooped it up, ignoring the alarm wards, confident that Sag’thoz would have to allow him to take it.

Spinning to face the Demon Lord he saw it glancing angrily at the podium that had once contained the Skill Enhancement Orbs. He had a suspicion about what it was thinking but chose to wait and see if it would say anything. The seconds passed as they stared at each other and finally Sag’thoz relented.

“Come, I will need the assistance of my Ritualists to send you back,” the Demon Lord said in a demanding voice before stomping towards the exit of his vault. A smaller demon waiting by the vault entrance and staring hungrily at the pile of mana gems was sent scurrying away as Sag’thoz ordered it to bring the ritualists to the throne room.

Nate followed, his stomach and shoulder itching as he was not fully healed from the trials. Guided back to the throne room, which turned out to be a very short walk away, he was directed into the centre of the summoning circle where he had first appeared. Glaring around him he waited as more and more demons slowly entered the throne room until the summoning circle was surrounded by over twenty demons. The demons remained silent besides the occasional rustling of equipment as they tried to avoid drawing Sag’thoz’s ire, the Demon Lord clearly furious.

Finally, after what seemed an interminable wait, the ritual began. The blood red flames that slowly rose about him as he felt the same three Concepts as he had last time. Fire, Seeking and Greed. The ritual took longer than he expected, having to stand still waiting for over an hour. Finally the energies around him rose to a peak and just like when he was abducted, the teleportation wasn’t instant, the flames slowly building around him in a barrier that cut him off from the space beyond it. His sphere of awareness condensed down to the few metres around him until finally he felt a pull on his body as space seemed to tunnel. The next moment he collapsed onto the sands of the arena in the Etrua Guildhouse. He breathed in and sighed in relief as he felt the familiar tingle of mana returning to his surroundings and the comforting sight of the moon and stars above in the clear night sky.

Not even two seconds had passed and he felt space tear next to him. Luc appeared, grabbing him roughly and looking him over, the man half frantic. His mentor took in his wounds at a glance and space tore a second time as the Arcane Riftwalker moved them, appearing in some room. His sphere informed him whose room a moment later as he sensed Aisling and Evindal pulling on robes. What an inopportune time to interrupt the husband and wife was all he could think. He chose to keep his eyes down, even if it didn’t really make a difference.

Luc’s words finally broke through what he was beginning to suspect was shock, “Is it him?”

The words made him realise that after his abduction, he’d never really expected to survive, to return. He’d been so focused on the unfairness and his almost certain death in the trials that all he’d cared about was making his death cost the demons something, anything. His mind was still catching up to the realisation that he was back. That he was whole. That he had won.

The realisation broke the dam on his emotions and he felt himself flooded with relief, anger and maybe a little pride. Relief that he was back amongst friends and not stranded in the Fourth Hell. Anger at being abducted and subjected to the whims of the Demon Lord and pride that he’d not only survived, but exacted a high price from the Divinity.

“It’s him,” Evindal finally replied. “Same life signature, same age. It’s him.”

The elf sounded relieved as well and a moment later a softer golden light enveloped his stomach and shoulder. The relief was enough that he collapsed into a nearby chair.

“I’ll get Kiri and Deverell. Don’t start without us,” said Luc quickly before vanishing through another spatial tear.

Nate leaned back, preparing to tell the tale of his abduction.