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

Kaius stared at the image out of time, unsure how to process what he was looking at. The man named him successor; it had to be one of his ancestors. Some hidden condition met due to that very Sovereign Star the Castellan had mentioned earlier, perhaps?

Regardless of their relation, he was held transfixed. The projection wasn’t an illusion; Truesight was clear in that. No, he could see the light mana, woven with a dexterity he would expect even Ianmus would struggle with, creating simple physical light that was bound into an ever so slightly orange-tinted image. It was flawless and incredibly lifelike and, interestingly, real enough that the only feedback he got from Truesight was that it was intangible.

It was impressively advanced compared to the flickering image they’d seen when speaking with the Grandmaster at the Guild wall, especially considering that it did not need half a room devoted to artifice to produce it.

In his office, the ancient Duke of Unterstern sighed. With the shock fading, Kaius could see the man looked haggard and stressed. Fine wrinkles crowded the edges of his eyes, and his hair was streaked with the lightest dusting of grey. He must have been old. Kaius had no doubt that the man was immensely strong, and time would have had a far weaker grip on him than on most.

The Duke ran his hands through his hair. It was a simple gesture, and an unconscious one, but it still made Kaius feel more than a little odd. It was familiar. And he wasn’t the only one who recognised it.

“Ha! You’re definitely related if he’s got the same nervous tics as you, Kaius,” Kenva said before she fell silent as the Duke started to speak once more.

“Regardless of why you are here, the thing that matters is you are. I have no way of knowing how much time has passed, if it has been millennia or a mere decade. For all I know, it could be you, Sash, and this entire recording is pointless. Yet if it has been longer, or our failure has been so great that you are someone not prepared to take up the duties of Duke, then this is a necessary preparation.”

Walking to the desk, the Duke sat down heavily and pulled free a crystal decanter of brown liquor. He didn’t bother with a glass, taking a long drink.

“It is likely that we have seen some measure of success. I would not expect survivors with a total failure. No. In all likelihood it is our so-called allies that have placed us in a precarious position. No doubt one of the treacherous bastards I call my contemporaries will break rank the second they think it benefits them. Could be now or in a thousand years. Regardless, it matters little. They are fools, for everything we have sacrificed only matters if everything is left behind.”

“Getting the feeling that your family wasn’t exactly the biggest fan of the Empire, Kaius,” Porkchop said, watching as intently as he was.

“I think you might be right,” Kaius muttered.

First a hidden override, then hidden skills, and now a secretive plot. Treason or uprising? He didn’t know. Let alone the why. But something deep in his gut told him that this all had something pivotal to do with the Shattering.

The recorded Duke sighed, draining half the bottle of liquor in a series of long gulps.

He held the bottle up, swirling the remaining liquid. “That’s the problem with Rapid Adaptation. Makes it damn hard to get drunk. A single whiff of this would be enough to kill your average second tier. Barely tickles me now.”

Bloody hells. Just how strong was the man? And how far had he progressed his skill?

Shaking his head, the Duke set down the decanter.

“Can’t really blame our allies for their schemes. Not when I, myself, leave this recording behind. It would have been easier, safer, if Broken Sceptre could have been carried out alone, without help. Yet not even my reach and influence is infinite. Too many logistics, not enough manpower, not enough strength. The destruction needs to be total, otherwise sooner or later we’re all bloody doomed.”

Now Kaius was all but certain. There was something more to the Shattering. But it left the question: why? This Locrua the Duke had mentioned — could it have been a land across the ocean? That very same land that his father had said they came from? Yet why destroy the Empire and flee? More importantly, how? He hoped that the fading memory of a long-dead Duke would have an answer for him.

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Regardless, the Duke continued. “If you are here, back on Vaastivar, asking a Castellan about Broken Sceptre, then our house is on the verge of ruin. Whether at the hands of the Empire, our tenuous allies, or the very world itself, the foundation has been lost. Fortunately, age has given me a perspective and an appreciation for the vast changeability of fates and the ever-crushing weight of time. Even the oldest of friends can become deadly enemies, I have found. And even the weak and broken can become strong and mighty. I have prepared contingencies.”

As the Duke fell back into silence, Kaius was lost in his own thoughts. His ancestor was a man prepared for ruin, yet their anticipation of danger puzzled him. A hostile Empire and precocious allies he could understand, but the world? Some reference to a fall from prominence over time, perhaps, or something more?

It was impossible to know.

Draining the last liquor from the decanter, the Duke placed the empty crystal under his desk before he drew another one filled to the brim. The man eyed the decanter for a moment.

“This is excessive even for me, but it’s been a long week.”

The Duke paused for a moment. “Curse me if you wish, but these preparations must be hidden well, and I must ensure only my inheritor will be able to access them. I have sealed our ancestral grounds. You know enough to seek a Castellan, so you should know enough where to look. The wards are well tended and should preserve our holdings indefinitely so long as they are left untampered. Between the defences, illusion arrays, and the danger of the high mana zone surrounding them, I could see it lasting until the very end of the world.”

“Well, that’s just fucking great,” Kaius growled, frustration flaring within him. The Duke had prepared for any eventuality — except the one that happened. A sole survivor who knew nothing of their history and none of their secrets.

“It is a lead,” Ianmus consoled. “We know they are related to the Empire. We have a decent chance of finding somewhere to start our search in the Baanswell Library. Significant holdings that are unusually well preserved and have higher quality than normal artifice seems like a decent place to start.”

Kaius nodded — that was true. If his family were involved in the production of automata, it sounded reasonable that they would save some of their best work for themselves.

Before he could respond, the Duke continued speaking.

“At the gates, recite the true oath of Unterstern and present your blood for access.”

The Duke shifted, pointing to the cabinetry that lined one wall. “I’ve left an amulet in a hidden safe. The obfuscation is keyed to Truesight and all known derivatives up to Legendary. Beyond that, you’ll have the strength to brute-force it anyway.”

Legendary? He knew for a fact that the limit to the third tier, and potentially even the fourth, was Epic. Did that mean that his ancestor was in the fifth tier? That multiple people in Unterstern had been that strong?

By the gods. He’d known that strength and ability had been lost in the Shattering, but that? That was ridiculous.

Uncaring of Kaius’ shock, the Duke continued.

“Like the gates, the safe will open with blood and oath. Take the amulet to my place of rebirth. At the peak of Mount Eisenfresser, under the light of the Sovereign Star, inscribe our formation. The binding, once complete, will lead you to my final contingency. Everything needed to secure the future of our house is there. Knowledge of our plans and of our full legacy, and the Honours — both those known and those I have hidden from the all-seeing eye of our beloved Imperator.”

Despite the bitter quench at hearing his ancestor speak of places and secrets that he had no knowledge of, Kaius couldn’t help but salivate at the prospect of such a cache.

In the projection, his ancient ancestor scowled — his wizened face revealing a steely bent that could only have been forged in long years of strife.

“Beware the Risen Houses. One and all, they are capricious, and even those that pride themselves on their honour will only seek to overtly crush you, instead of stab you in the back, if they smell opportunity. If you are truly desperate, two may be considered for assistance: the House of Herzog, and the House of Dynia. They are allies of a sense, and involved in Broken Sceptre. Yet they alone will not follow us to Locura. Too focused on securing the safety of their peoples. Understandable, considering the general separation of the homelands from the population at large.”

The Duke seemed to stare at Kaius directly, harsh tones hammering him. “You would still be a fool to trust them. Give them a wide berth without the personal strength to avoid being taken advantage of. But if the situation is even worse than I feared and too much has been lost, then it is a good place to start. The dwarves are stalwart and aboveboard, even if they are stubborn. And for all their caprice and arrogance, the elves are wise, for they have suffered under the weight of time since long before the System arrived.”

The Duke suddenly clutched his armrest so hard that the wood shattered into kindling. A heartbeat later, that same hand was on the full crystal decanter of liquor in front of him; so fast that Kaius didn’t even see him twitch, it was drained in seconds.

“The Imperator is dead, and may the bloated corpse of his Empire rot with him.”

The projection winked out.