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

Kaius stared at the plain steel table that just moments before had held the image of the long-dead Duke Unterstern. The Castellan sat still and silent, like its life had fled in the same breath that his ancestor had vanished.

He had no eyes for the creature, consumed by what he had learnt.

A lost compound. An unknown mountain. A forgotten oath. And two questionable, potentially long-dead allies. The revelation at once sparked his heart to a pounding fervour as a deep-seated hunger and need to finally grasp some sort of connection to his past overtook him. At the same time, he had a bitter taste on his tongue. Four impossibilities, but it was a call to action all the same. And what possibilities it could reward him with. An ancestral home and knowledge that had long been lost. Knowledge that would be valuable to far more than just him. There were many who would love to know how the Empire ended, and it seemed like it was a story that was intertwined with his family.

Their path seemed set on Greenseed. There they would be able to learn more.

Hopefully the Castellan would be able to give them some hints. Perhaps even the holdings of Unterstern would be a good place to start. As would the Stoneholds and Elven Conclaves. Both peoples were long-lived, with strong and stable societies.

There was a chance that the Houses of Herzog and Dynia still yet lived. Of course, he was wary of stepping into the quagmire of a high mana society, especially in the current years. Even if man had once been their peer, now both the dwarves and the elves far exceeded them in power. Men were rare in their lands. He had no doubt, much like his ancestor had suggested, he and his team would need strength to protect themselves. None the least because visiting the Conclaves would be sure to create an uproar with Porkchop at his side.

Even if the journey was long and the mysteries many, it would be worth it. This was one half of his quest.

Pursuing Wilting Rose and the tracker Morton would lead him to his family’s enemies and the closure he so craved. But this? This was his birthright, his history and connection to the past, something he had always lacked. It was just as important as the recent tragedy.

He just wished that the unknowns weren’t so large and many.

“Are you okay?” Porkchop asked.

Kaius tilted his head to the side. “Yes and no. I’m ecstatic to have learned so much already. And the wealth that waits for us is unfathomable. Even the Honours my ancestors might have reached as high as the fifth tier. The value of that is incalculable. Plus, this Locrua they mentioned offers some explanation for what happened — my Dynasty must have fled across the ocean.”

He paused, frowning for a moment as a grim thought settled into his mind.

“If my family has managed to persist for so many millennia, escaped the devastation of the Shattering — that they may or may not have had a hand in — those other families that fled with them might have too. There has to be a reason my ancestor was so worried of betrayal. Perhaps one of them was behind whatever calamity befell my house and forced Father to flee back to Vaastivar.”

Kaius ran his hands through his hair, sighing heavily. “Without their names, it’s hard to know or look into them more. This cache would likely have them, but I don’t see the path to how we reach it.”

“That is understandable,” Kenva said, giving him a commiserating look. “Holdings, allies, and a single mountain… Those we can find with enough careful searching. References would likely survive in folklore, at least in some sense or another — my people have some oral histories dating back to the dark ages. But an oath and a formation? That’s harder.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure.” Ianmus replied, shaking his head. “The formation, yes, that will be a challenge, but the Castellan itself said that your ancestors had hidden it in key infrastructure to grant them control. With enough strength and time, you might be able to rediscover it. As for the oath — well, many oaths are not exactly private things. For a political entity at the level of a Duke, especially so. Maybe these ancient allies might still know. Powerful houses of dwarves and elves have a better chance than most others, considering their long lives. Especially if they were insulated and forewarned like the ancient Duke suggested.”

Kaius gave his friend a single slow nod, encouragement quelling some of his frustration. It was true. Regardless, such a quest would be the work of years. Their best leads were ancient and powerful families in high mana societies that it would be foolish to approach while weak.

“What about our newest metal friend, Kaius, is he broken?” Porkchop said, leaning forward to sniff at the Castellan. “He smells the same.”

Taken from NovelFire, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

“I’m not sure,” Kaius said. It was hard to tell, really. Sure, it was silent and still, but he could still see magic blazing within the creature’s body, and the field that had surrounded them and protected them from the ambient arcane energy was still strong.

The Castellan twitched a moment later, fire returning to its sculpted eyes.

“Apologies, my lord. Your line of questioning seemed to have triggered a hidden directive. Would you be able to provide a blank notebook? I have a standing order to provide you notes on how to inscribe the Sovereign Star.”

Kaius’s eyes widened and he ripped a book out of his ring faster than he ever had before.

Blessings of Elyntir be upon him. The formation was what had worried him most; it was no doubt a ruinously complex thing, hidden deep in the bowels of heavily guarded Imperial ruins. Piecing together what it was and where it lay would have required decades of dedicated research. A guide would be much easier and would prove invaluable for understanding the function of the Imperial script as well. There was still the matter of the oath. But, as Ianmus said, it was something that might still exist in the memories of his ancient allies.

As the Castellan swept up the offered notebook, Kaius watched with bated breath as blurring bronze hands began to fill page after page.

…

“Well, what does it look like?” Ianmus said as he peered over Kaius’ shoulder.

Kaius kept leafing through the notebook, an intense frown on his face. Every single page of three entire volumes had been packed to the brim with a section of the Sovereign Star formation. There were even dedicated notes, the bottom third of each right page devoted solely to walking him through the steps, theory, and reasoning behind its creation.

Like other examples of the Imperial script he had seen, the formation of the Sovereign Star stood at a midpoint between the traditional runecraft he knew and his own glyphbinding. It made use of two-dimensional runes, that was true, but the formation was layered, creating a three-dimensional structure.

Yet even if in some senses the style did not match up to the totality of Vezryn’s, it only made the achievement more impressive. The complexity was astounding, unequivocally beyond even the mastery that had gone into the creation of the automata.

“It’s a binding array,” he said, finally answering the mage’s question. “Just like the Castellan said. But unfamiliar with the script as I am, and with the sheer skill and genius that has gone into creating it... this thing is beyond me.”

Hells. It might even have been beyond Father. Whoever had invented this was a monster. It wasn’t even just the beginning. In practice, he doubted he had a hope in the hells of inscribing the thing as he was. Sure, if he had five years and a city square’s worth of space, he could inscribe a single layer. But in the size it required, and the method? No way. It was impossible.

And it was a divergence from what was expected from his own art. This formation relied on external mana control — one of his weaknesses. From the notes he’d seen in the brief introduction left behind by his ancestor, it was clear that the ancient Duke had never even considered that his inheritor might prefer and utilise an internal path like he did with his own glyphbinding.

Perhaps even more fascinating, it was clear from the methods he’d glanced over that these ancient rune-wrights had not used a stylus to inscribe. No. The nature of their formations made that impossible, or at least undesirable for masters of the art. Instead, mana was threaded through a material, control used to burn patterns into the internals of a given substrate.

It was fascinating and daunting. And absolutely out of reach. He’d struggled to even scan the existing pathways of far simpler formations than this.

“Yes, but what does it do?” Kenva asked. The revelations since they’d awakened the Castellan were more than enough for even the least magic-inclined to be interested in the seal.

“I’m not sure,” Kaius admitted. “We know from the Castellan that it provides people of my blood some sort of authority over the automata. As best I can tell, it’s like a lord’s signet ring. Or a king’s seal — a statement of authority. I’m sure there are subtleties and use cases that I either can’t pick up or aren’t detailed in the introduction I read.”

“Bah, who cares?” Porkchop said. “We have it. That’s the main thing. Now all we need to do is find the location of your dynasty’s old den and where that bloody mountain is. If you need to be stronger to inscribe the formation, that’s no great matter. We needed to get stronger anyway. We have to. Between hunting down Morton and the Onyx Temple, progressing the integration, and now going to visit bloody elves of all things, we have plenty on our plate.”

Kaius sighed. “You really haven’t heard of the name Dynia?”

“Of course I haven’t,” Porkchop asked back. “I already told you. Few amongst the meles care to learn much about the Conclaves. Most meles try their best to ignore the elves, not learn the intricacies of their overly complex courts.”

Kaius sighed. Even Ianmus hadn’t known. The mage had only said that his father had been more focused on instilling a quiet devotion to magic, as their culture insisted he have a calling. It was clear there was more to the story, but Ianmus looked uncomfortable, so he’d let the matter drop.

Still, Porkchop was right. They had the most difficult and complex puzzle piece, in comparison to a few locations and an old oath, with far easier problems to solve.

“Apologies, my lord,” the Castellan interjected. “But I must suggest we leave the mainframe. This level of mana is unhealthy, and redirecting it is moderately burdensome for me. May I suggest we move to the quarters of the previous Head Researcher of this facility? They are close by. That would be a far better setting to get you fitted for a prosthetic.”

Kaius snapped to the bronze automaton. “A prosthetic?”