THE RUNIC ALCHEMIST

Damian needed to make more mana generators and collect a large amount of liquid mana to shape a golem using sacrium as its base material. So he did just that. Creating invisible box after box filled with iron and steel, he got to work, shaping them into many shapes of the generator, his focus reaching its peak—so much so that he didn’t even notice how long he had been at it.

By the time the sun had disappeared beyond the horizon and night had fallen, Damian was surrounded by over twenty mana generators, all operating at full power. He had connected them using a single steel rod and was covering them with his aura. It wasn’t easy—even after training his aura for over thirty years, continuously reaching for so much aura. Still, Damian had never liked easy. It was a challenge, and the longer he could endure it, the better he would perform the next time. Aura training was always like that—punishing and demanding hard work. No wonder pugilists were good at it. Those masochists loved things like that.

After generating enough mana to fill five massive steel tanks, Damian finally stopped—not because he couldn’t continue, he wanted to convert all his raw materials into liquid mana, but because Toph was constantly jumping around, teleporting near his face and crashing into him. The little guy was trying to get his attention. When Damian finally caught him in his arms, Toph trumpeted wildly and raised his trunk, pointing toward a cozy village nestled in the moonlit, snow-covered land, where a fire burned at its center.

Even from this distance, Damian could hear the pigmen chattering and the deep, drum-like sounds of their celebrations. He realized he was hungry too. He might as well go eat—and leave Toph there for a while.

Closing the lids of the massive mana-filled tanks, Damian grabbed his two refilled mana containers and secured them at his waist. Taking flight in the moonlit sky with Toph squealing in his hands, he soon reached the vibrant village and landed near Evrin and Lumi. Many pigmen noticed him and pointed, saying strange things, but Damian ignored them.

“Are you done with your thing?” Einar asked. She seemed to be doing well—both of them did.

“No, I’m just hungry. And Toph wanted to play,” Damian replied.

The moment he said it, Toph used his warp skill, teleporting right beside Sam and Grace, who were dancing along with many pigmen. Even Sariel and Amy were dancing—lost in each other’s eyes. It seemed like the two couples had already enjoyed their honeymoon in this cozy little snow village, even before marriage.

Grace smiled brightly and pulled Toph into their slow-moving dance.

Damian had sensed the Highswords around all day. Most were keeping to themselves. Worldscribe, Runefather, Lifewarden, and Silverspell had joined the feast. Bloodedge was somewhere in the woods nearby doing his meditating thing. Mindseer and the Esper lady hadn’t left the wooden houses Damian had built all day.

Sitting down to eat, Damian enjoyed the simple pleasure of sharing a meal. Grace and the village chief had organized this little celebration, and it was nice to see so many smiling faces.

“Are you doing better now?” he asked Evrin, who sat beside him.

She nodded. “Sorry.. I knew she did the right thing, yet I just..”

“I don’t know what your family taught you, but morals are personal. Religion can guide the path, but it isn’t the absolute truth. Your mind and heart are powerful—oftentimes, they give you the right answer before you even ask.”

Evrin and Einar exchanged glances, processing his words. It wasn’t his place to define right and wrong for them. As long as they could live with their choices and survive, that was enough.

Damian stood up, about to leave, when he saw Lucian approaching. He decided to wait.

Stopping before him, she extended her hand, revealing a glowing white crystal ball the size of a golf ball.

“Sam told me to give this to you,” she said. “They conquered the dungeon inside the chief’s hut, and he was rewarded with this.”

Damian took it, nodded, and stored it in his spatial storage. Then, he began forming a flying spell’s runic circle in his mind.

“Are you going back?” she asked.

“Yes,” he replied.

“Can I come?”

Damian met her gaze. As always, her expression was unreadable, but he noticed a hint of nervousness. He smiled and wrapped his arm around her waist as they lifted into the sky.

She held onto him tightly as they flew toward the highest peak of the stone shrine. Moonlight illuminated her pale face, her light blue eyes reflecting his own. Their breaths intertwined. Once, she had been much taller than him. Now, he towered over her by a few inches and had wider shoulders too.

At last, they reached the high platform, and Damian slowly let her go. She turned away, her gaze landing on the distant village—small and peaceful, the sole source of light in the dark, shadowy land.

“You once said dungeons were illusions of lost worlds,” she murmured. “We can’t go through them, can we?”

Damian didn’t answer. He didn’t want to lie. The truth was, he had no idea if it was possible or not.

After a few moments of silence, he finally spoke. “Don’t worry. If nothing else works, there’s one place we can go.”

“Where?” she asked, finally looking at him again.

“My home.”

“Dawnstar?”

“No,” Damian said. “As I told you once before, that place was never my home. It’s.. another world. Like this one.”

Her eyes widened slightly, but she didn’t ask any further questions. As if that explanation alone was enough to justify all his odd behavior.

At last, she simply said, “You always were an odd one.”

Damian just smiled and turned away, walking toward his massive steel tanks filled with liquid mana. He had too much to do tonight.

Lucian remained at the edge of the snow-covered platform, sitting in silence and gazing at the quiet view. Whatever was going through her mind, Damian had no idea.

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