(Second Book Complete!) Runeblade: A Delving & Skill Merging LitRPG

Kaius’s heart pounded in his chest as he ran; his team ran with him.

This damn ruin seemed endless and ever-changing, even with them following the clearly painted directions that had been emblazoned on the walls.

They’d managed to make some progress over the last quarter hour or so, getting closer to whatever the mainframe was.

During that time they’d passed sites beyond wonder, things that he’d had no name for. Along each of their flanks, the walls of the hall were filled with glass bay windows, similar almost to where he’d fought the three abominable champions with Porkchop, so long ago; yet where those had seemed developed but understandable applications of an alchemy workshop, blown up to a grand scale, this was beyond him. Even with millennia of development in magic and artifice, he didn’t know if Vaastavar would be able to match what the Empire had achieved.

It boggled the mind. This was just one facility. There were hundreds of known ruins in settled lands, at least from what he’d seen in the archives. Who knew how many more were scattered throughout the continent!

So much of what they saw was unfathomable. Spires of shaped steel and spinning cogs, pumps moving liquid to only the gods know what end, and strange contraptions of cogs and wires with clear stations set up for observation and testing. Hells, even a room full of nothing but balls of floating fire that winked in and out of existence.

Yet no matter how much he wanted to stop and investigate, they hadn’t been able to. The damned automata were the problem, the things were bloody unending! They’d scythed through a full legion of the artificial creatures.

The one saving grace being now that they had located the cores of the strange worker drones, they were relatively easy to cut down due to their lacking levels and strength. Another thing had also been definitely proven by their repeat engagements: while the creatures had some access to the System, Health wasn’t the only thing they lacked.

He had yet to see the automata have an ability that wasn’t tied to the artifice built into them; they had no skills. It stopped them from being a greater threat to ones such as them. Still, if they weren’t careful, they’d be worn down.

Every step he ran, every cut of his blade, every glancing blow, and, worst of all, every spell cast was a drain that he struggled to recover from. Even when they weren’t directly fighting the automata, there were still the fixed bolt throwers that pelted them from afar with constant barrages, forcing them to defend and evade.

Kaius gritted his teeth, his pounding feet taking him to a corner ahead.

They took it at speed, skidding slightly on the polished floors as they accelerated. They were greeted with another long and open stretch of hallway, ending in a T-junction. Common was emblazoned on each turn left and right, a hundred long strides ahead; even if he only had mortal vision, it would have been easy to read thanks to the size of the lettering.

Left: Redoubt D2, Right: Central mainframe.

He still had no bloody clue what a mainframe was, but, judging how clearly it had been signposted at every turn since the very entrance, it was something important. Plus, following it had steadily lead them deeper into the facility — occasionally through sloping, ramped sections that took them deeper beneath the earth. It was enough that Kaius was growing more and more confident that it would be their target, or, at the very least, closely positioned to the very core of the facility.

There’s just one problem.

The deeper they got, the more automata they ran into.

Four worker drones approached them from the front, their plethora of tools whipping through the air. Kaius grit his teeth. There were turrets aplenty on the ceiling, but they were mowed down quickly. Their approach had long since been refined — he and Porkchop took on the workers, and Ianmus and Kenva focused down the bolt throwers.

It would have been as easy as breathing for him to cut them down with a Nail or a Stormlash; he did not. It would have been a waste of precious resources. The automata had been growing in number steadily as they’d gotten deeper. He didn’t have the time to stop and inscribe. Every spell had to be conserved as much as possible.

He and Porkchop hit the automata like battering rams; his brother breaking their charge with one of his own, racing in behind a shard wall. Kaius kicked off, going high, as he raced towards the wall on his left.

Leaping off again, he redirected himself towards the closest automaton and sunk his blade into what would have been its hips if it was built like a man. Aimed true, his sword punched through its boxy core, the creature shuddering for a moment before it went stiff and limp.

It was all too damn easy. There was no way these glorified toolboxes were the facility’s only defenders. While whatever calamity had befallen it and caused the automata to turn on their creators might have led to some of the more combat-capable models being destroyed, by the simple good state of the facility, he doubted that they had all been wiped out. It was clear who had won the engagement: the machines. The true warriors were out there — waiting somewhere, lurking.

Still, the ease with which they had slain the automata gladdened him. Their time in the depths had honed their communication and teamwork. They knew each other so well that barely a word needed to be spoken. It was simply clear to them each what their strengths were and how they could be best applied.

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“Let’s move,” Kaius said. “Who knows when the next pack will arrive?”

They kept running, following the sign that guided them closer to the mainframe as they passed yet more workshops and destroyed yet more automata. He was sure of it now: there were more of them, in greater numbers. What had once been isolated packs was now a steady trickle.

Every few seconds, another automaton rounded the corner. Again, signs appeared, directing them onwards. Mainframe. Redoubt D5.

Their progress slowed as they were bogged down. Even with each automaton going down in barely a few seconds of direct conflict, it still broke their pace and forced them to be careful.

With every breath, the tension and dread within his chest grew.

A deep rumbling thump split the hall — far too weighty to be a worker drone. Kaius hissed in a breath, snapping to the sound. Lurching shapes appeared, looming over the lesser worker-drones.

Kaius growled. Of all times for his nerves to prove prescient, it had to be now?

Yet, at the same time, he couldn’t suppress that lingering thrill that shot through his veins, as two warriors in truth stepped into the fray.

As different from the worker drones as he was from a child, the very sight of them set his marrow burning. They were far off, but even with the scale of the facility it was easy to see how large they were — nine strides high at minimum.

Each was a behemoth, wrapped in plating that looked more suitable to a fixed fortification than a moving creature. Much like the worker drones, they were propped up on spider-like limbs, though only six to the drones’ eight.

Yet unlike the worker drones with their thin and spindly legs, each one of these was thicker than his thigh, powered by blocky pistons and gearing that had been shielded in layers of overlapping plating.

They propped up a coffin-like torso almost as large as Porkchop, better described as a slab of steel than anything else. They had four shoulders, one set halfway down their chest; the lower two limbs ending in simple, savagely hooked spikes that were inscribed with runes. They crackled with magical might, though, much like everything else of Empire construction, the runes of their artifice were shielded within. Of its larger upper limbs, one ended in a shield; in the other, a blade as long as he was tall. There was no head; instead, in its place, a tube that looked like a collapsed telescope.

Whatever it was, it blazed furiously with magic.

He recognised them from a drawing in the guild records. A centurion — the bulk of combat-capable automata that could be found in imperial ruins, and the reason why no one except large numbers of Silvers or Gold delvers wanted to enter a military facility of Imperial origin.

Vicious, deadly, and impossibly durable, and, unfortunately, highly varied in their exact capabilities.

Kaius focused on the pair with his true sight.

Imperial Kirithin Centurion - Level 251:

Automata, Elite, Skirmisher, Vanguard

He hissed: Silver, and on the upper bounds of what he’d known they could expect.

A real challenge.

Porkchop set his pace beside him, speeding up his charge.

“It does look like we’ll have to work for it, doesn’t it?” Ianmus said with savage determination, his sigil burning bright as he tapped into its accumulated stores of magic.

Kaius could only laugh. He couldn’t deny the thrill he felt, despite the obvious danger.

Readying himself for battle and mayhem, Kaius picked up his pace and lowered his blade.

The centurions were ready for them.

Each of their clanking steps reverberated through the walls and floor as they stepped further into the hallway. Once inside, there was a whine of gearing and magic as their torsos rotated smoothly to track them. Shields slammed in front, great slabs of metal defending their upper chest.

The location of their core, perhaps?

A flare of danger shook him from the thought.

The leftmost centurion’s mana surged within it, building to a crescendo that sent a chill down his spine. Through a Moment of Flow, Kaius saw a line cutting from its strangely lensed head straight to his chest.

There was no thought — only the sudden burst of glyphic magic at his side.

His Shunt detonated, blasting him sideways; yet, with unnatural grace, the creature’s head swivelled, tracking him perfectly through the air. That very line barely warbled as it stayed perfectly in line with his torso.

The magic peaked.

Kaius saw only a momentary flash. A lance, burning red, and the size of his fist, cut through the air — moving so fast he could barely track it.

“Kaius!” Porkchop screamed in his mind, worry in his voice. He slammed his claw home, a shard wall erupting to cut off the burst — too slow.

The beam hit and Kaius felt the faintest flash of a sear as the compacted heat-affinity mana hit the scales on his chest.

He swept his blade up, Mercurial Reversal speeding his deflection. Yet, by the time he got his blade into the path of the strange spell, the damage was already done.

Molten metal ran in rivulets down his chest as Kaius hit the ground with a wheeze, staring at the blackened hole in his torso, halfway deep. He saw the burnt ends of his ribs, and the segments of his right lung flailing as it tried to inflate despite a cauterised half-moon that had been punched through its far edge.

Strangely, the wound didn’t hurt, his nerves having been seared dead. He hit the wall so hard that his shoulder creaked, sliding to the ground as Health roared into the wound, his flesh already bubbling.

With the regeneration came agony — new nerves exposed to the air as they writhed, re-knitting his flesh closed. He could feel his health dropping precipitously, the delicate organs taking considerable energy to regenerate. Greater Regeneration fought to keep him stable and functional, despite his wound.

He shoved that injury out of mind.

As he did, he heard the worried gasps of his back line. An unnecessary reaction. They should have been focused on the fight! Though, he was thankful for the wave of healing energy that washed over him.

When Ianmus snapped out another spell a few breaths later, Kaius only watched with dread as another flash of light filled the hallway. Another beam — a visible glow appeared through Porkchop’s crystalline shard wall.

First the light was subtle — then white hot. The centurions capitalised on the weakened Shardwall, heavy blades smashing home.

The wall shattered.

Kaius reached for his spells.

A challenge indeed.