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

It started with a roar of surprise, echoing across the flat and dead ground of the city. That singular call was a match for the powder keg.

Over a league away, where cracked earth became lush grass in an impossibly clean line, the Tyrant’s forces boiled. Mere seconds before they had been silent and still, with a mockery of order imposed upon them.

With their master’s death, those chains vanished. It was panic and violence in its purest form. Pack and herdbeasts alike flew into a fervour, suddenly alone in a sea of foreign bodies. Lesser creatures went flying — broken bodies and spilled entrails sent skyward as the mania of giants shattered them. More were simply crushed.

Dispersing in an explosion, the horde scattered in every direction— including towards the city. At the sight of the panicked stampede, Kaius felt his blood chill. He knew the city would hold, and the remaining dragons’ teeth would divert the flood — but there was one problem. They were in the way.

He went from still to sprinting in an instant, his prosthetic digging in uncomfortably. Familiar chimes sounded in his mind, but he had no time for them — Rieker was still insensate. He was pale, bloodied, and his two inscribed hammers lay discarded by him.

He couldn’t see the wounds — the tears in his splintmail showed only healed skin. Yet Ianmus was still crouched over him, a wealth of solar mana flowing in a constant wave. Something was wrong.

Rotten roots, if the guildmaster died…no. He wouldn’t do that to Ro.

“Let’s move people!” Kaius screamed, before he looked to Arc. The Gold was battered, his splintered armour sealing slowly as his health went to work. “Can you run?”

If the essence had wounded Rieker like that, who knew what state Arc was in. He might not have been skewered, but he’d had his chest damn near caved in at one point.

“This one will be fine. The wounds linger longer than they should, and there is weakness in my body — but not enough to hinder our flight.”

“Good, then start bloody running!”

He slid to a halt by Ianmus’s side, one hand sweeping out to store Rieker’s hammers in his ring.

“Is he still physically injured?” Kaius yelled.

Ianmus blinked, looking at him in shock. Rotten roots, he hadn’t even noticed the battle was over!

“It’s metaphysical, soul damage—”

Fuck.

Kaius couldn’t help but think of the wracking convulsions that had grown more and more common towards the end of his father’s life. The weakness.

“— I’m doing what I can, but it’s bad, Kaius.”

“Is he stable?”

“The essence has wormed its way deep. I’ve flushed most of it, but I need more — dedicated life mages. Hells, a fucking soul mage, but he’s not exactly in a state for a trip to the bloody Conclaves!”

“Is he stable!? Will five minutes of jostling and no healing worsen his condition?”

“No,” Ianmus said, shaking his head.

It was all he needed to hear. He hauled Ianmus to his feet. The mage looked behind him, his eyes going wide as he saw the dispersing horde that had once been the Tyrant’s army.

“Run,” he said.

Ianmus didn’t need to be told twice.

As he bent down to scoop Rieker into his arms, he caught sight of Kenva elbow deep in the Tyrant’s chest. A hint of light glimmered on her arm before it vanished. Her hand was bloodied, but empty when she retracted it. Whatever she’d grabbed, it was in her ring.

There was no time to ponder what she’d found — there’d be time for that later.

Kaius felt Rieker’s heft. He was a dense bastard, all muscle, though it was an easy weight to carry with his strength.

He ran, burning through his last two charges of Slipstep to pull up alongside Porkchop.

“Can you take him?” he asked, preparing to sling Rieker over his brother’s back like a sack of turnips. With his size and strength, Porkchop would barely be slowed by the guildmaster’s weight.

“There’s no need. Look,” Porkchop replied, directing his attention to a rapidly approaching plume of dust.

Ro. Gods, she had to be terrified.

Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

She reached them in moments, her eyes wide and wild. She was scared, he’d never seen her like that before. Worried, plenty — but not afraid.

“What happened?!” she asked desperately, spinning on her lead foot as she immediately switched directions and kept pace with him.

Kaius passed Rieker over to her waiting arms. “Soul damage, from the Essence. Ianmus knows more, but he needs to get to Madrigal now.”

She went pale. Slinging Rieker over her shoulder, she nodded and took off. Mana and stamina flowed through her in a constant torrent as she accelerated. She was fast, almost impossibly so — he doubted he could have matched her even if he used VOS with a Slipstep. Multiple skills, it had to be.

He could only hope she was fast enough.

“Madrigal and Cantor are setting up in a chapel near the wall. Ophelia’s going to come pick up Ianmus — he’s had the most experience with Essence of the three of them. She’ll grab Arc too. Even if he’s just suffered physical damage, Madrigal wants to check him over.”

Kaius nodded, though he didn’t feel relieved just yet. Even with three Silver mages, one of them using a premier affinity for healing, soul damage was serious. He knew more than most what it could do to a man.

He wasn’t sure how powerful Father had once been, but he was certain it was strong. The signs were there. Whatever his ancient ancestor’s plan, it was clear that the continent over the seas had housed the Empire’s remnants. Father had grown and lived in a Risen house in truth. Even if he hadn’t been the heir, how could he have been weak? His gut said Platinum, at the very least, though he had no way to be sure.

Yet despite that, Father had been reduced to almost nothing. Unable to use his skills, with his stats greatly reduced, he’d been bested by bandits that had struggled to reach Iron.

Soul Rend was a potent poison that he barely understood, and hadn’t even found any records of, but Essence was an even greater unknown. If Rieker suffered the same fate… the life the Guildmaster had once known was over.

Rieker was in the gods’ hands now. Without healing magic, or exceptional restoratives, there was little that he could do to help.

A sickening wave washed over him at the thought, before Kaius grit his teeth. They just needed to get back inside the city. With the rest of the mages still near the walls, the directionless tide of beasts would break upon the city’s defences. If any of them even made it that far. On open ground, there was little chance of them picking the only obstacle for leagues around. Panicked or not, charging the fortifications would go against every natural instinct they had.

There would still be a reckoning in the days to come. The beasts had been displaced, and with the region having been almost emptied of beasts, there would be little in the way of competition. Especially when they had slaughtered so many at Deadacre’s walls. Territories would form, and in the coming weeks, some semblance of balance would be found.

One that would leave the surroundings of the city far, far more dangerous than they had been before the siege.

There was little he could do about it, either. Dealing with the fallout would be the endeavour of years. They would be here for a few more weeks at most. Enough time for things to stabilise. Besides, someone had to bring word to Dawntown — they were close enough to be affected by the sudden ecological shifts as territorial clashes spread in a wave.

Running towards the city with all he had, Kaius sighed and watched Ro clamber over the wall in a series of quick leaps.

Rieker better be okay — everything else would work itself out.

….

The chapel was a small one. Built of the same grey stone as the rest of the city, it had thin stain-glass windows made from various shades of green. A dedication to the various deities of the harvest and nature, rather than more expansive worship that occurred at the large myriad temple at the city’s centre. It was a stark departure from what Kaius had seen elsewhere in the city.

Standing at the edge of the empty hall, Kaius watched the oak door to the rear chambers closely. Rieker and Arc were in there, but they’d been asked to wait. Madrigal couldn’t afford the distractions. Ro got a pass for obvious reasons, Arc was a patient, and Ianmus was assisting her — but the rest of them? They got a damned empty hall and some pretty glass.

There weren’t even any bloody benches! He wasn’t the most pious man at the best of times, but right now he felt like throttling whatever priest had decided that ‘mortals should stand before the gaze of the divines’.

Leaning against one of the stone walls, he looked to Kenva. She was staring at the far end of the hall intently, or, more accurately, the souls she could see beyond it.

“How’s he look?” Kaius asked softly.

“Like I said, I don’t know enough to tell you what it means, but progress is…slowing.”

Kaius’s stomach dropped.

“The Essence remains?” Porkchop asked from where he was sitting near by.

“Some of it — it’s entrenched deep. Regardless, he seems… Stable. I can’t say more than that. We’ll find out soon though, Madrigal’s heading to the door.” Kenva said, straightening.

The door creaked open, revealing the life mage. She looked exhausted. Her eyes were sunken deep, and were bruised enough they looked almost purple. Cantor was behind her, looking half dead as well.

“He’ll live,” Madrigal whispered. “Though that is about all I can promise. Ianmus can tell you more — Cantor and I need to rest, and the rest of you need some privacy. That much is evident.”

As soon as the mages passed them, Kaius rushed into the room.

It was a small office, or, it had been at some point. Two desks would have once sat at the far end of the room, while a meeting table sat atop a carpet at its centre. Those now lay shattered and piled in a corner. Two cots had been fetched from…somewhere. Arc and Ianmus sat on one, while Ro was crouched over the other. She was crying, stroking Rieker’s face with one hand. The Guildmaster was still, his face pale as a ghost.

Gods, was he still unconscious? Would he stay that way?

“How is he?” Kaius asked, racing over before he could take in anything else.

“‘He’ is feeling like he got eaten alive and shat out again,” Rieker coughed weakly, one eye flickering open.

Kaius collapsed down onto the unused cot next to Ianmus. “Oh thank the gods.”