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

The once-stagnant air of the catacombs whipped through Kaius’s hair as branching tunnels blurred past him. He ran hard, his legs burning as he leaned into the full might of his body.

Time was burning, and above him people were fighting and dying for their city.

Once they’d stabilised the situation in the ruins, they’d left immediately. With the wounded slowly recovering, and the stream of larva drying up, it had been time to move on. It had been good, necessary work, but standing around supervising while the Tyrant’s attack continued had cut like a blade. Still, he hadn’t wasted the time. He’d quaffed potions as frequently as he could without sickening himself, and had almost completely refreshed his inscribed spells. He’d even managed to squeeze in two uses of Warhaven, to seal off the tunnels that the larvae had compromised.

The rest of his inscriptions had weighed on him — did he prepare for facing the Tyrant, or the army? Both were a risk. That the Tyrant would face them now was no guarantee, and focusing on what would help him for a duel against a singular opponent would leave him less prepared for the siege itself.

Kaius balled his fists, knuckles going white. He’d made the right decision — he had to have. The Tyrant had been building up to something. It had been too methodical, pressing and probing them again and again, until every soul in the city had been forced to weather a storm. Either it swarmed them, and there was little they could do, or it met them on the open field.

Their fight was coming, he could feel it in his bones. He was ready. two Starfall, and a pair of Fractured Warps were bound tightly to his glyphs where they pulsed with potency. Dense lines of inscriptions covered every inch of his lower arms, the marker of thirty Hateful Nails and twenty-five Stormlashes. Vyrthane sat light — Warhaven was too expensive and too ill suited for his purposes, but he’d inscribed three casts of Bound Maelstrom to protect him against a ranged assault.

Beyond his short ranged Warp, he’d added plenty more to Felmenia — five casts of Slipstep and fifteen of Expedient Shunt for rapid repositioning. Eirnith had required he be selective — both of the spells were expensive for the first tier, but Zone of Discombobulation was far less suited for high-velocity combat against a single powerful foe. Compel Obsession, however? That warranted another three, the openings it could create were vital.

Nearly seventeen-thousand mana, chained and bound in looping lines of runes. He could feel them pulsing under his skin, a dense net of barely stable energy waiting for his commands.

From what mana remained, he’d spent lavishly on Redoubt of the Speaker. With the growth in his skills and Authority, he was confident it would be enough to use VOS at least twice — a hidden card, to strike at the Tyrant’s weakness when it least expected it.

Just over a thousand mana remained free in his pool, a stash that he could use for Mystic’s Rend and Hymnfocus. Low enough that it would be constraining, but as the battle started in earnest, casting his spells would free up some wiggle room.

Quite frankly, it felt insufficient. Three spells of the second tier were soaking up just over a quarter of his mana pool — an insane expense, no matter how effective they were. How did other spellcasters manage it? Even with all of his Honours, and his Heroic class, he still felt the pinch. Sure, lower rarity spells were often cheaper, but not by that much.

It made him feel the downsides of his hybrid class more than ever. His stats were distributed widely. Ianmus was better off, thanks to both a higher Intelligence growth, and the fact that his use of second tier spells was largely gated by how many keyseals he could support, and how long it took them to gather the requisite energy to cast.

Gritting his teeth, Kaius consoled himself that it would get better with time and levels. He just hoped that he wouldn’t be forced to burn through too many spells before the Tyrant made its move.

Running through the dark tunnels, Kaius spotted still figures splayed out in shades of grey, his Truesight revealing slain beasts. Thick pools of black spread out from gaping wounds. Too clean to be made by fang or claw, it could have only been the work of the Steel teams that had been sent to deal with the beasts flooding towards the sewers.

Some of the tension that had knotted in his chest slacked. Thank the gods. If delvers had pushed down into the catacombs, they must have rebuffed the assault further up, and sent in teams to mop up any lingering threats.

Their inability to find out the fate of the city above had been gnawing at him the entire time they were near the ruins. In all honesty, it still did — they hadn’t gotten high enough to cut through the interference of the ruins. It might have been fine, if there hadn’t been so much turbulent mana coursing through Deadacre. Unfortunately, there was, so he did his best to squash the thoughts of shattered walls and broken soldiers whenever they arose.

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It wouldn’t be long now — not if they were seeing dead beasts.

A few minutes later, he jolted as the interference clouding his communication artefacts faded. They were far enough from the ruins! He activated the artefact immediately, connecting to the command network.

“Ro! We’re out. The hive queen’s been dealt with; a rough fight, but we managed. The grubs made it to the dome, but we got there before there were any major losses or our mutual friend had to intervene,” Kaius said quickly.

A background roar of men and beasts replied to him, Ro’s voice cutting in a few moments later.

“Good! We managed to get the sewer incursion under control, but the eastern gate is getting hammered — get up here quick!”

Kaius shared a brief look with his team. “No sign of the Tyrant then?”

“Not yet, but something feels different. It’s not trying to pull us away from the main forces anymore, and it’s concentrated everything on a single push. It’s a stupid move, we’d be far harder pressed if we weren’t able to concentrate our forces. I’ve got to go — hurry up and get to the wall.” Ro said breathlessly, before cutting the connection.

Silence returned to the tunnels, broken only by their rapid footsteps. Kaius frowned; clearly something was changing, but with how depleted their defenses were, beating back this push would take work.

“What’s our plan?” Kenva asked.

“Same as before. Porkchop and I will take the wall, you two focus on any elites. Just stay on your toes — I feel like we’ll be seeing the Tyrant sooner rather than later.”

Kenva nodded, and they redoubled their pace, kicking up dust as they tore their way up towards the city.

….

Old blood and fresh smoke coated Kaius’s tongue as he heaved open the grate to the sewers. A mountain of bodies littered the entrance. Beasts, of a dozen varieties, dragged into rough piles. There was no sign of the warriors who put the rabid force down — they didn’t have the manpower to waste.

Kaius whipped his head around, absorbing his surroundings. They’d exited into a square near the centre of the city. This far from the walls, the damage wasn’t as extreme. A few holes littered the front of the buildings closest to the sluice gate, and a couple of roofs further down had been damaged in some sort of aerial attack, but it was a far cry from the total leveling he’d seen elsewhere.

Cacophonous booms sounded again and again, overwhelming the constant low drone of distant shouts and screams — the eastern gate.

Kaius could see the battle from here. A constant rain of arrows fell from three stone siege towers that stood tall over the city, joined occasionally by explosions of magic. The spire mages were hard at work, hurling everything from boulders the size of a man, to glistening windblades and burning rays of light towards the tyrant’s forces.

Only half were directed towards the swirling cloud of flying beasts. The Tyrant’s aerial forces had been much depleted over the week — bare traces compared to the sky-blocking mass it had once been. The rest fired wantonly over the wall.

His heart thumped in his chest as he traced their trajectories. They were firing at a single target, something large and close. Stranger, he was sure there should have been more flying beasts — something was off.

A moment later, the wall shuddered. Distant defenders collapsed in a wave atop the wall as a cloud of dust rose. The sudden violence of it cut off his train of thought.

“Something big’s at the gate, let’s move!” he yelled. His team nodded, heavyset worry drawn on their faces.

They ran, tearing through streets littered with debris and a haze of dust and smoke that choked out the light of the sun.

More than once, some beast that had breached the wall, or managed to slip past the teams defending the city threw itself at them with futile abandon. Kenva dropped each and every one of them with a single arrow to the brain.

As they drew close to one of the siege towers, Kenva and Ianmus split off from them. None of them slowed their pace — there was no time.

“Stay safe!” Ianmus yelled, rushing towards the stairs that spiraled up the exterior of the mage-summoned structure.

“Never!” Porkchop replied.

Kaius laughed at his brother’s reply, and kept running.

The wall loomed tall, a battered testament to Deadacre’s stubborn will to live. The defenders across its battlements ebbed and flowed like the tide — rushing forward with battle cries as they fell on beast after beast, forcing away the beasts that continuously clambered over its edge.

Another concussive boom hit Kaius full in the chest, the heavy wood of the gate shuddering. It was barely holding on — was the reinforcement the earth mages had created even still standing?

The rest of the elites must have been trying to kill the threat. He couldn’t spot any sign of Rieker, Arc, or Ro anywhere. Had they gone over the wall?

Steeling himself to do the same, he raced up the stairs. He needed to see what was happening — could they hold? Porkchop fell in behind him, but Kaius pulled ahead as the crowds grew thicker.

A desperate scream bellowed from the base of the wall, urging him faster. It was a bestial thing, loud enough to cut over the din of battle. One of the creatures trying to break through the gate? He hoped they were so lucky.

Slaughter waited for him. The cracked, hard-baked earth that surrounded the city had been transformed into a bloody mire, wetted with vital fluid and churned by thousands of feet. Despite being refreshed before every battle, the dragon’s teeth were shattered, their fragments buried deep in the pulped bodies of beasts. Each one had been trampled where they fell.

Living monstrosities died by the dozens, the remaining forces that attacked the gate quickly depleting — including a clubtailed beast that he assumed had nearly broken through. It lay still surrounded by the rubble of mage-summoned defences, its lifeblood slowly seeping out from hundreds of wounds.

Deadacre’s Golds surrounded the creature, covered in a thick layer of blood and gore.

The sight occupied his attention for a bare moment, his gaze locked on the teeming horde that massed at the edge of the circle of lifeless earth that surrounded the city. Thousands and thousands of beasts. More than enough to see them dead.

They were just standing there.

“Tell Kenva and Ianmus to be ready,” he said to Porkchop through their bond, a grim certainty building within him.

“They’re already on their way.”

Kaius gripped his blade tightly, steel threading through his spine. It looked like he wouldn’t have to wait long for their battle.