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

An Iron bastion in bulky heavy plate stopped in the doorway to the guild reception and froze as he saw Kaius and his party sprinting towards him at full tilt. A second later, he dived out of their way — directly into a rose bush that had been delicately sculpted into a neat orb.

“For fuck’s sake, Michael!” someone yelled, just out of sight.

The bastion went pale, flicking between them and the door to the guild. He made his choice. Scrambling to his feet, he burst towards the tree line with Skill-enhanced speed.

Kaius laughed, unable to stop himself despite feeling bad for scaring the poor sod. In his defence, Guilewind had just told them he was holding a meeting about the Shardworld!

They slowed as they reached the steps — a few slightly more aware delvers calmly stepping aside. Just through the door, he saw a blonde haired man with the badge of an attendant glowering out of the window in the direction the bastion had fled.

“Sorry, that was our fault,” Kaius said. “We were running for the door, gave him a bit of a fright.”

The attendant looked at them and brightened. “Oh! That’s fine then — though don’t tell Michael that. It’s the second time he’s flattened that bush. Regardless, Guilewind is expecting you. Follow me.”

The attendant spun on his heel and marched across the guilds lobby, milling delvers wisely choosing to get out of their way. Even though it was far less crowded than the mission halls on the rear of the building, there were still dozens of men and women waiting to speak to the attendants for one reason or another.

In moments, they were winding their way through the rich wooden halls of the guild. Kaius barely paid attention to their surroundings as the attendant led them up two flights of stairs. He was far too busy mulling over what might be waiting for them.

Guilewind had said the greater gate was outside of Garsum. He barely knew anything about the place, other than the fact it was a coastal country. Nervous energy bubbled away within him; he wanted to take the stairs four at a time, racing ahead of the attendant. Never mind that it would be pointless and stupid. The meeting wasn’t for another twenty minutes, and it wouldn’t help anything besides.

Garsum was on the other side of the bloody continent. Even if the Pegleg magically fixed itself, and he rushed west without stopping, it would take months, maybe even a year to reach the coast. And that was in a straight line! Gods’ knew how much the terrain would delay him.

No, the first gate was out of reach. That was the damned problem. He already felt like he was falling behind, and now he learned that people had an entire week’s headstart. And it was growing. How long would it take to find a gate that was close enough for them to travel to? Gods, what if they missed the Proving. The system said it was just the first one — but of all people he knew well enough how valuable being the first could be.

“In here,” the attendant said, breathing heavily as they pulled up beside a massive oak door. “Guilewind and the rest of the high-tiers are already inside.”

Kaius smiled at the man and nodded thankfully as they made their way back. He glanced at the door, suddenly aware that they hadn’t actually met all that many of Baanswell’s powerhouses. He couldn’t hear a thing from the other side — but most rooms in the guildhall were enchanted to dampen sound.

“Ready to meet the competition?” Porkchop asked.

Kaius grinned. “They wish they were the competition!”

“Let’s just get this over with,” Ianmus said through their rings. “All this waiting is making my teeth itch.”

Seeing Kenva’s nod of agreement, Kaius pulled open the door. The first thing that hit him was the noise of a dozen overlapping conversations. The second was the sheer weight of power. The overlapping aura of dozens of Silvers, Golds, and even a couple of Platinum delvers hit him in the chest like he’d stepped in front of a blast furnace. It wasn’t dangerous, or even that uncomfortable — but it was sudden and unexpected.

Authority surged inside of him, roaring high at the sudden pressure to assert his place and rebuff the crushing aura. Behind him, he felt his team to do the same, the edges of their Authorities fuzzing against his own. None of them pushed outwards to dominate their surroundings; they didn’t need to.

All at once, the conversations died.

Baanswell’s strongest stared. They were scattered through the room, circling tables as they lounged in wait for the meeting to start. Every breadth and flavour of delver was present. A lithe, half-elf ranger watched him with emerald eyes, drake-skin boots kicked up on her table. Across the room, a fox-faced person with gleaming black fur and slab-like heavy plate twitched their ears to track Kaius as he walked slowly through the door. Right in front of him, a middle aged man with greying temples spun a short knife through his hand. It warped to the other every second rotation with a small burst of mana.

The three weren’t anything special in the sea of stout warriors and masterful mages — they were literally just the first three that caught his eye.

Kaius swallowed thickly, glancing to the back of the room. Guilewind stood at a podium, high enough to see from the door despite his small stature. The guildmaster was smiling in amusement, his fangs bared and his red eyes bright.

Someone sniffed loudly, a giant of a man in leather-backed chain at the centre of the room.

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“You’d think the Tidebreakers of Deadacre would have a bit more bark to ‘em.”

“Fuck off, Drex, you’d have shit your pants walking into a room like this in your twenties,” a cowled mage with a brace of wands across his chest yelled back. “Thousand plat they have something to do with the dead dragon approaching the southern gate.”

Just like that, the conversations roared back to life, and the entire room lost interest in them. Mostly. Kaius could still see a few eyes watching as they trudged their way warily in. More importantly, how in the hells did they know about the dragon? Julian shouldn’t have even reached the bloody walls! Deadacre he could understand — Porkchop was distinctive — but did they have a gods’ damned spy network?

Searching for an empty table, Kaius realised they were all at least partially occupied. He suppressed a groan. He wasn’t exactly intimidated by the display as they entered, but it had been rather sudden. Delvers did have a tendency to get a bit competitive, himself included, and he was here for the briefing, not to size up a table of cocky Silvers.

“Left of the front row,” Guilewind’s voice came softly on the breeze. “Look for the Gold woman with blue hair and white eyes. Helena’s a nice sort. Also, I’m probably going to use you to make a point, so you might get tested a bit.”

If Kaius knew anything, that sure sounded like someone was going to challenge them to a duel at some point. Kaius gave the guildmaster a flat look. Guilewind winked.

“Sounds fun! Let’s grab our seats.”

Skirting the edge of the room, they made their way to the front. Guilewind must have warned Helena too, because he could see the blue-haired woman craning around her high-backed chair. She was lithe, short, and her solid white eyes gave her a ghostly visage that clashed with her warm smile.

“Neriad ancestry, most likely,” Kenva explained before he could even ask, smiling back at the woman.

That surprised Kaius. Neriads were a semi-aquatic people who largely kept to the lakes and waterways of the south-western edge of the continent. Apparently they found it uncomfortable to be from the water for long, even when they had the stats that it didn’t physically effect them. Kaius wondered if it was the same for Helena. The Dukedoms weren’t arid by any means, but nor were they a wetlands.

Three other Golds sat to her right, taking up a third of the large table. The first was a slim, sandy haired man in scalemail like his own and an easy, lopsided smile on his face. Next was a black-haired woman with a hawk-nose, wearing a strangely loose cloth jacket and trousers — perhaps a mage, or some sort of pugilist? Kaius slid to the last man. He was short, stocky, with a dark complexion that Kaius had heard was common in people from the north-eastern deserts of Vaastivar. He too wore only cloth, but from the thick callouses on his palms, Kaius could tell he was a martial fighter.

“Sit, sit!” Helena said, pulling out the chair next to her. “I assume Guilewind has already introduced me, but my companions are Gars, Persellia, and Nemtep.”

She waved to her team mates. Gars’ smile widened as he enthusiastically waved. Persellia and Nemtep just nodded stoically. It seemed the team had a rather distinct split in personalities.

Kaius gave them a thankful smile, taking the seat next to Helena, before he stored the chair next to him to make room for Porkchop — who still had to hunker down on all fours to avoid towering over the entire room.

“So, about that dragon?” Gars asked the second they had sat down.

Helena tsked and swatted him on the shoulder. “They just sat down!”

“Bah, they knew it was coming.”

Kaius couldn’t help but grin at the display — it was hard to bristle when they came across as so at ease and genuine.

“Okay, I have to know — how the hells has everyone heard about it? I doubt Julian has even made it to the walls yet,” Ianmus asked.

Gars raised his brow. “First name basis with the young Lord Flowers? Yeah, you had something to do with it.”

Nemtep grunted at the end of the table, crossing his arms. “To actually answer your question, a good fifth of the people in this room either have scrying capabilities set up, or informants with communication artefacts scattered through the city. A few got word of a team matching the description of the one that killed Deadacre’s Tyrant, and then later the Lord Flowers approach from the same road. Not that hard to put two and two together.”

“So much for staying beneath notice,” Kaius grumbled.

Helena gave him an incredulous look, her pure white eyes piercing straight into him. “I think, perhaps, that you should reconsider your hobby of killing Tyrants and dragons if you wish to stay inconspicuous.”

“We’re just going to have to learn to deal with it, then,” Porkchop chuckled.

“So, did you kill it, then?” Gars asked again.

Kaius glanced at his team. Porkchop clearly didn’t give a lick about it either way, and Kenva and Ianmus both just shrugged.

“We did,” he said a moment later.

Immediately, a table at the centre of the room threw up their hands and cheered — the same one seating the mage who had bet they’d been involved. Two tables over, a Gold with a bushy black moustache scowled and thumped his fist on a table.

“Is it always this boisterous?” Ianmus asked, watching the display.

“Only sometimes,” Helena replied. “You don’t get this many high-tiered in the same room very often, and most of the people here have gotten to know each other in some capacity over some rather lengthy careers. It’s ended up a reunion of sorts. Plus the Integration progressing again has put a bit of fire in people — everyone wants to know what this Shardworld means.”

“That, and delvers are despicable degenerates who only get worse in packs,” the hawkish woman across the table added.

“Persellia, you’re a delver,” Gars pointed out.

“I said what I said.”

Despite himself, Kaius laughed. The longer he sat in the room, the more he relaxed. No one here cared that they were Silver, and massively overachieving ones at that. Sure, they were curious, but there was none of the awe that he was so wary of. If anything, Kaius had noticed more people looking at them with cautious judgement — as if they were untested.

Knowing delvers, that meant Guilewind was probably right when he said someone would poke at them. No doubt they would be sized up and put through their paces eventually. The thought of it sent a little jolt of excitement through him. He didn’t get that many opportunities for a friendly brawl.

Maybe he really was bad at keeping his head down.

At the head of the room, Guilewind waved his hand. A knot of air snapped with a sonic crack.

“Order!”

The room fell silent immediately.