The Runesmith

“Is everyone all right?” 

Varek asked as the barriers shimmered and faded. The mist had settled into a pool of sludge around them, but everyone had managed to survive.

“I think everyone is fine, but that man has escaped into the third ring.” 

Harphon commented, his expression tight with anger. The gnome seemed certain that the assassin was after him, and Roland had no reason to doubt it. Most of the people present did not appear particularly important or powerful. He had already scanned them, noting that their levels and classes were average for platinum-grade adventurers. They had most likely come to the deeper dungeon level simply to train and gain experience, nothing more.

“Are you sure there aren’t any hidden passages along that path?”

Roland was not convinced that the tunnel ahead led in only one direction. He had often discovered hidden passages and secrets while wandering through places like this. An old assassination group such as the Red Quills might have known of paths that were no longer common knowledge.

“There are no hidden passages. That path was charted a long time ago.”

Harphon answered confidently, but Roland still intended to scan the area himself. First, however, he needed to try to follow the trail of the assassin, which seemed nonexistent. Normally, something would be left behind, but even after activating all of his runic sensors, there was nothing. No mana signature and no scent that Agni could detect.

‘Assassins have many ways to hide their presence and their trail. It will not be easy to find him again, and he might not even be there when I arrive.’

Although this was the only known path into the third ring, there were likely other ways out. One was the route he had used to enter, and an old group like these assassins might know of others. For now, the best option was to place sensors at the entrance and monitor them. If the assassin returned, Roland would at least be aware of it.

While the adventurers let out sighs of relief, Roland could not help thinking about the connection this group might have to the ones he had encountered in the city. They clearly used the same methods to dispose of their failures. It was possible that there was a deeper link and that they were working with certain nobles within the city of Isgard. Many suspicions were swirling in his mind, but a far more urgent problem remained. Everyone knew that an escaped assassin was a serious threat.

“Mister Siegfried… I must thank you for what you did, but could I perhaps ask you for more help…”

The gnome was well aware that there was a chance more enemies could appear and that Roland might be one of the few people he could trust to go to the adventurer stronghold. This only complicated matters further. He had been trying to establish an identity for himself in order to gain experience in the dungeon more easily, and now he might have even more assassins trying to kill him.

“That stuff looks deadly…”

His thoughts were interrupted by Varek, who pointed at the sludge floating around them. It was pooling as it melted through the solid rock beneath their feet. Somewhere within it lay the remains of his golems, along with the hooded figures whose master had abandoned them.

“Ah, leave that to me. I know a few basic earth spells.”

Harphon spoke as he began chanting. Roland could have done the same, but it was better to keep his other options hidden. The additional armor sets he carried, or the modifications he could make to his current one, would allow him to cast far more than gravity magic and simple barriers. Those were trump cards best saved for later.

After a few seconds, the ground began to shift. Rocky steps rose from the floor as the sludge was pushed aside, forming a path that led straight toward the tunnel marking the entrance to the third ring.

The newly formed stone steps rose gently, avoiding the worst of the corrosive sludge. Steam hissed where droplets touched the fresh rock, but it did not melt through. Harphon wiped sweat from his brow as the chanting ended, his small frame visibly sagging.

“That should hold for a while. The stone will resist the corrosion long enough for everyone to cross, but it will not last forever, so do not linger.”

“No one will.” 

Varek replied. He cast one last glance toward the empty tunnel where the assassin had vanished, then raised his voice.

“Move out. Keep the formation tight.”

The group advanced carefully along the improvised path. Boots scraped against stone as they passed the draconic statue, its eyes seeming to follow them. Roland stayed near the rear as the porters and noncombatants were sent last, while the adventurers took the lead. Even after everything that had happened, the arrangement never changed. They were still treated as an afterthought.

“Siegfried, are you coming?”

Varek called out to him as the other adventurers had already passed toward the entrance of the tunnel. No one dared to step through it, likely afraid that the assassin might be waiting inside. Even now, it seemed they were relying on him and were unwilling to move forward without him acting as the vanguard.

“I’ll be there in a moment.”

Roland nodded as he followed after the craftsmen, who appeared visibly distressed. Ermes, whom he was meant to watch over, was mumbling to himself and was clearly on edge.

“Almost there… almost there… I’m almost there…”

“Are you alright?”

Ermes was standing in front of the bridge as the last to cross, with Roland just behind him. Only after Roland placed a hand on his shoulder did the blacksmith react.

“Ah… I… I’m fine…”

“Don’t worry. It isn’t far from here.”

Roland’s voice was rather soft, gentle, and confident. It gave the man some relief as he found himself naturally believing those words. 

“I… thank you.”

Ermes nodded, his tone filled with gratitude. Soon, all of them made their way across, and almost on cue, the rocky steps began to sink into the sludge below, which did not seem to have cleared yet.

Finally, once everyone was ready, they waited for Roland to take the lead with Agni, and the journey continued. The tunnel sloped downward, its walls scorched as if they had been carved away by a dragon’s breath. Roland moved slowly, carefully scanning for any anomalies.

“Just as I expected. He fled, but…”

Although the man called Eleven was no longer here, he had left a few presents behind. Roland’s display detected a hastily assembled trap, triggered by a thin string stretched along the ground. It was not the kind of trap normally found in this section of the dungeon. Roland halted mid-step and raised a clenched fist. Agni froze instantly, and so did the others.

“Stop.”

The adventurers at the front tensed, some nearly bumping into one another as the command rippled backward through the formation. Varek turned just enough to meet Roland’s gaze.

“What is it?”

“A trap. Probably left behind by that hooded assassin.”

Varek nodded and turned to the party’s trap expert. Even though their group was small, they still had others capable of handling the task. Soon, the string was cut, and they moved forward, only to discover many more hidden obstacles, all of which they disabled.

“This assassin really wants us dead…”

Varek complained. This route was supposed to be the easiest path through the dungeon, yet they found themselves stopping every few minutes to deal with another concealed trap. While no one was injured, the constant delays doubled the time it took to pass through the tunnel. Eventually, they arrived at Drachnid Valley.

The oppressive stone ceiling gave way to a wide forest path, where large ancient trees towered overhead, their roots thicker than a human’s torso. From afar, sounds of lesser dragons resounded, and in the distance, the group could even see some wyverns flying around. 

“Finally, we are here!”

One of the adventurers said it and nearly sprinted forward, but before he could take more than a step, Roland grabbed his shoulder and stopped him.

“Stop.”

“What? You mean…”

“Yes. More traps.”

Varek shook his head in disappointment and looked toward the group’s tracker and trap expert. Neither of them had been able to sense anything. It was clear to him now that if Roland had not been with them, all of them would already be dead.

“Everyone, once we reach the Stronghold, half of the reward goes to Siegfried here.”

“Huh?”

The group was stunned, but no one complained. They all knew that without the strange armored man, none of them would be standing there.

“I don’t mind, I can use this as my reward instead.”

Roland crouched down and picked up a small pouch from the ground. It was filled with a potent poison, and if someone had stepped on it, all hell would have broken loose. It functioned much like a landmine and had been hidden from sight by a strange enchantment that even platinum-ranked trackers were unable to detect.

“So this is Drachnid Valley…”

Harphon looked out over the vast expanse while Roland pretended to do the same. It was the first time this persona had been here, though in reality, he had visited the place many times before. While the others were distracted, he accessed his hidden sensors, checking whether they had recorded the assassin’s movements.

‘Hard to detect, but he went that way. That is not good at all.’

With the help of the sensors, he was able to roughly trace Eleven’s path, and it led straight toward the adventurer stronghold they were heading for. That was where Roland’s area of influence ended, and once the man reached that place, finding him would likely be impossible.

Soon they were on their way, following Roland like a group of chicks following a mother hen. The forest thinned as it gave way to a winding road of trampled roots and worn stone. It was a structure manufactured by people and a path the adventurers had made to guide new arrivals to their stronghold.

Boots crunched over fallen leaves as the group followed the narrow path. Somewhere in the distance, the echo of metal striking metal rang out faintly. The scent of smoke and oil drifted through the air.

“I just want this to be over.”

“That’s for sure. I heard the adventurer stronghold in the third ring is a small city in itself. I could use one of those soft beds, I’m going to sleep for a week!”

“Ha, that’s for sure.”

Laughter rippled through the party, the tension loosening just a little. Some rolled their shoulders while others sheathed their weapons more comfortably, reassured by the signs of civilization ahead. Even Varek, who had been on edge through the entire second part of the journey, finally began to relax.

“There it is. I can see it.”

One of the porters shouted as the stronghold came into view. Massive wooden log walls rose from the earth, clearly fashioned from the trees of the surrounding forest. Each log was as thick as a man, reinforced with iron bands and carved with old runic marks meant to deter monsters. The walls towered above the treetops, casting long shadows across the path.

Watchtowers stood at regular intervals, their platforms lined with armed sentries. Banners snapped in the faint breeze, displaying the Adventurer Guild crest. It was a sign that nobles did not rule here. Adventurers were the true power. Beyond the gates, the noise of thousands of people echoed outward.

‘Made it in one piece at least.’

Roland studied the small adventurer city from afar for a while. It housed more than a thousand people, but most of them were not tier three adventurers. Many were craftsmen, lower-level porters, or ordinary folk. Some had even been born here, as the settlement functioned like a regular town. 

Only around two hundred to three hundred tier three adventurers lived in the city, with their numbers rising and falling depending on the time of year. Most stayed for only a few months before returning to Isgard, though some remained for years.

Nevertheless, a force of two hundred to three hundred tier three class holders was one to be reckoned with. Not many cities could contend with such power, and not even Roland would be able to face all of them. Many among their ranks were not merely Platinum but Mithril, individuals above level two hundred and fifty, with perhaps a few nearing Orichalcum rank, which lay within tier four territory.

The road widened as they approached the stronghold, packed dirt giving way to heavy, rocky pavement that had been flattened by something long ago. Before them stood a massive gate. On either side rose a watchtower, and from within them two figures stepped into view, bows already drawn and aimed at the group.

“Hold it!”

Their apparel was not what regular guards would wear. They were adventurers, clearly ones fulfilling a mission. Both were tier three class holders, and a single shot from their bows could kill even a lesser dragon.

“What was it again…”

After a brief pause, one of the archers asked the other for help.

“It was ‘state your business.’ They wrote it on the mission slip. At least remember that.”

“Bah, I’m only doing this because there was nothing better to do…”

Some of the adventurers looked confused, but Roland had half expected this. The so-called adventurer stronghold was run by adventurers, and people like this preferred to operate through the guild by taking on missions. Even guard duty was treated as one, making the entire place a haven for part-time contractors.

“State your business,” 

The first archer repeated, this time with more confidence, though his grip on the bowstring remained tight. Varek stepped forward, hands spread to show he carried no hostile intent.

“Platinum-ranked group from the main city guild, we came to stay within the stronghold. I have the papers right here.”

Varek pulled out a scroll and unrolled it before the two men. Even though the archers were positioned quite high, their enhanced eyesight allowed them to read even the small letters and smudges on the paper.

“It looks genuine. Just let them through.”

Roland stayed a few paces behind Varek, quietly observing the gates and the two archers. They seemed strangely relaxed, almost lax in their posture.

“Excuse me.”

As the gates began to open, he looked up at one of the archers to ask a few questions.

“What is it? Just move along.”

“Has someone entered here just before us? Perhaps a man in a crimson robe and a mask?”

“A mask and a robe?”

The archer tilted his head to the side as if considering the question, then shrugged.

“Never seen anyone like that. People go back and forth here all the time, so hurry up and go in before a dragon gets you, newbie.”

The two archers burst out laughing, as if Roland had said something particularly amusing. Varek and Harphon did not comment, and soon the group moved inside. Ermes appeared quite nervous, his eyes darting around constantly. Roland was not sure what he was looking for, but since he was only a craftsman who had been left for dead by adventurers living here, it was possible that he was getting cold feet.

“Let’s go in, shall we? Oh, and Siegfried, could you accompany me for a while longer?”

It was Harphon who called out as they passed through the now open gate. The gnome was an inspector who had likely come to check whether any fraud was being committed by the adventurers inside. Since he had already been the target of an assassination attempt, it was likely that he could be targeted again.

“Sure…”

“That is reassuring. I am glad that I could make the acquaintance of a man like you as well. Now that we have some time, could you tell me about those golems that were helping you? Are you perhaps also a mage?”

The gnome seemed quite pleased to receive help, but then he started asking questions that Roland would rather leave unanswered.

“Let’s say I picked up a few magical items during my travels…”

“Ah, of course, that does make sense. I will not pry further.”

He responded, and the two started walking. Part of his plan had been completed, but more troublesome matters now awaited. Roland did not know anyone inside, yet his plan to infiltrate the third ring as a proper adventurer had been successful.

At first, he had only intended to check in, make sure Ermes was safe, and then leave. However, now that the group known as the Red Quills had revealed themselves, he needed to investigate further. He could not allow people connected to assassins to roam freely.

“Woof!”

“I know. We might have to stay here a bit longer than I expected, but do not worry. We packed enough food for both of us.”

“Worf!”

Agni wagged his tail as the two of them entered the stronghold. The gates closed slowly behind them, and while one part of their journey had ended, another had just begun.