The Runesmith

“I’m sorry, Mister Siegfried. I’ll get your room ready soon.”

“It’s fine.”

Roland replied to Millie, who was frantically cleaning the room prepared for him. Because of her father’s arrival, she had been away from the inn, leaving her mother and a hired hand to manage everything on their own.

“There seems to be a lot of adventurers coming in. Is something big about to happen?”

He asked while leaning against the wall near the entrance. Although he already had some idea of what was coming, it was best to hear more from a local like Millie.

“Ah, have you not heard? A large-scale expedition is going to be held soon. I’m not sure of the details, but every few years the number of monsters increases and some kind of treasure appears somewhere within the draconic ruins.”

Roland nodded, as this confirmed the information his people had gathered. As always, the promise of rare loot drew adventurers out of the woodwork, some even traveling from other countries or from distant parts of the kingdom.

“The Draconic ruins…”

He mumbled softly, and Millie paused her frantic cleaning and popped her head out of the room.

“Yes. It’s past the Drake Meadows and within the Dragon Maw waterfall. I think there is a way to get inside. You really can’t miss it.”

Roland nodded. He had seen a large shimmering waterfall pouring from something that resembled a dragon’s jaw. If what Millie was saying was true, then within it lay some kind of treasure, along with another section of the dungeon filled with various traps and monsters.

‘Should I join this expedition or just stick to what I am doing now?’

He considered it for a moment. There were a few options. He could try to get there before the other adventurers and claim the treasure for himself. However, from what he knew, the entrance remained sealed until a specific moment. That likely meant the adventurers would gather in advance so that no one could gain a head start.

It was a region he had not explored yet. If he left now, he might arrive before the others. Perhaps opening the sealed chamber was possible, as it had been in other dungeons in the past. However, to reach it, he would need to cross the Drake Meadows, a vast stretch of land filled with massive, lesser wingless dragons known as drakes. The meadows were wide and open, with no trees or natural cover apart from tall grass, which made sneaking through extremely difficult.

The better option might be to travel with the other adventurers and use the opportunity to place his monitoring devices throughout the area. He could even establish another hidden lair for teleportation beyond the meadows. That would allow him to farm materials from the creatures there and perhaps visit the grand lake with the enormous monster rumored to live within it.

“If you want to sign up, you’ll need to hurry.”

“I see. You seem to know a lot about this dungeon. How long have you been here?”

As they spoke, Roland shifted the conversation. Instead of focusing on the dungeon, he wanted to understand how Millie  had ended up in her current situation.

“Oh? About four years or so.”

“Four years? So you weren’t always here?”

The timeline fit almost perfectly with his suspicion that she had been brought here when she was ten. If that was true, then her level had increased only a few times over five years, which made her class quite unusual.

“No, we used to live above ground. I think it was somewhere in the middle of the kingdom. I am not sure now, we used to move a lot. Mama cooked, Papa hammered iron, but then I…”

She began reminiscing about a past that sounded ordinary and peaceful. After a moment, she cut herself off and even stopped cleaning.

“Ah, it is old history now. It does not matter anymore. We are here, and we are here to stay!”

Millie did not dwell on the past for long and quickly returned to work. He had clearly touched on a sensitive subject, but for now, he had no intention of pressing her further. Within the next few minutes, she removed several old items from the room. The previous owner had not returned for weeks, which made the room available for reassignment.

Then, to his surprise, she began fixing things. He peeked inside when he heard the sound of a hammer. She had a few nails between her lips as she secured several planks into place and quickly repaired the broken parts of a chair.

“There we go. All ready for you, Mister Sigfried.”

“Thank you. You seem to be good with your hands.”

“Oh, this? Just a few things Papa taught me.”

She smiled and shuffled out of the room with her toolbox in tow.

“And remember to come down in the morning for breakfast.”

“I will see what I can do.”

The girl hurried off, clearly with more work to finish and more adventurers to attend to. As a prospective apprentice, she met every expectation in terms of attitude. She worked hard and understood what needed attention and where adjustments were required.

“Well then.”

Roland closed the door behind him and found himself alone. The room reminded him of the place where he had first begun his adventure. Back then, he had spent half a year studying runes. Using his debugging skill, he had gradually learned how to inscribe them on paper.

“If my friend is going to make a move, it will probably be tonight.”

After inspecting the room and confirming there were no magical sensors present, he placed one of his own for later use. It was time to act. He had no intention of sleeping. The night had only just begun, and the leader of the perpetrators was still at large. According to his array of sensors, the man’s mana signature ended within the stronghold and had not left since.

‘He is still here, probably waiting to finish the contract and make one last attempt.’

Roland did not know much about the assassination organization, but he assumed it operated like many others of its kind. The man had clearly failed and likely could not return without completing his mission. Such groups maintained discipline through the threat of death. Even high-ranking members were not spared if they failed. The man was probably waiting for the right moment to strike, and as usual, that would be during the night.

He loosened his robe and laid it on the hard mattress nearby. His black armor was revealed in full, though only briefly. Runes began to glow with a pale blue light, and his body shimmered before gradually turning transparent, becoming fully concealed wherever no light touched him.

Roland moved toward the shuttered window and pressed a hand against the wooden frame. The latch gave way without a sound. A faint draft slipped inside, carrying the scent of distant forge smoke. Even at this hour, the smiths were still at work, their hammers echoing through the stronghold and providing the perfect cover for him and the assassin to move unnoticed.

Below, the stronghold’s inner streets were lit by magic lanterns mounted on poles. Their glow carved the roads into long stretches of shadow between pools of orange light, perfect terrain for someone who knew how to disappear. 

Before moving further, he reached into his spatial storage and retrieved one of the humanoid golems he had used in the past. He placed the robe he wore over it and ordered it to pretend to be asleep in his bed. Only then did he slip out the window. Instead of dropping to the ground, he allowed his body to rise, floating upward until he settled gently on the roof.

He moved without a sound. Little light reached the upper levels of the stronghold, and the adventurers on watch duty were lax, their attention wandering. They were not concerned about thieves or lesser monsters slipping inside. They had lived here for years and had grown accustomed to a steady undercurrent of danger.

Roland remained crouched atop the Red Dragon Inn and moved only after making certain no one would impede him. His destination lay three streets east, closer to the guild building. Another inn stood there, where Inspector Harphon was spending the night.

Harphon’s room was easy to identify, as it was layered with defensive wards meant to prevent intrusion. The old gnome had asked Roland to serve as his bodyguard, but he had refused, partly on purpose. He knew the assassin was wary of his presence and understood he could not win a direct confrontation at this point. That was why Roland had left the golem behind to pose as him. He was almost certain that the man called Eleven would first check whether his greatest obstacle had been distracted.

‘Will he come, or will he abandon his mission?’

Roland did not know. After finding the perfect hiding spot, he became completely motionless. His body was invisible to the naked eye, cloaked in shadow. Even a tier three individual could look directly at him and see nothing, so long as he did not move. Not even a mage like Harphon could sense him through mana.

The city was as rowdy as expected, yet layers of mana shields kept the noise contained. To the monsters outside, it did not exist at all, as it had been warded against detection. Unless someone deliberately lured a monster here, none would appear. To his knowledge, the city had been built in an area where no monsters spawned.

People filled the streets, adventurers and ordinary citizens alike. They managed to coexist to a degree, but the divide was obvious. Noncombatants without crafting classes were treated as lesser, more like servants than equals.

Drunken laughter spilled from a distant tavern. A pair of armored adventurers staggered past, arguing over their share of loot. Farther down the street, a patrol exchanged bored greetings. Roland studied them all, knowing that any one of them could be the assassin. 

He had recorded the man’s mana pattern, yet he could not find it again. That meant his opponent had found a way to disguise it, either by masking the signature or keeping it from spilling out. His sensors were not that powerful, but if the assassin was nearby, Roland could manually sift through every hidden status screen and check.

It was a tiresome process, but it had to be done, so he waited. Time passed, and people shuffled through the area. Men, women, and even tamed beasts had their statuses examined, as his enemy could have disguised himself as anything.

The gnome had chosen his lodgings carefully. The inn stood sturdier than most, its walls reinforced with ironwood beams and etched with protective runes. However, this would probably not stop someone like Eleven.

One, two, and three hours crawled by, and the stronghold slowly went quiet. The taverns dimmed, patrol routes thinned, and most adventurers stumbled into their beds. A thin mist rolled down from the upper false sky, clinging low to the stone streets and swallowing sound.

Roland remained utterly still atop the opposite roofline, his presence dissolved into shadow. He had already released two spider golems along with his floating constructs to keep watch. Just as he had hoped, at precisely two in the morning, something shifted.

The man looked familiar, one of the archers who had greeted them at the entrance. Roland sensed at once that something was wrong. After a subtle probe, he confirmed it. This man was no longer the same. He did not know whether the archer had been replaced from the beginning or at some point later, but one thing was certain. This was Eleven.

“Found you.”

Eleven suddenly turned his head toward Roland’s position, as if he had sensed something. His gaze lingered for a moment, and Roland did not move. The man’s eyes narrowed, but he saw nothing, just as Roland had predicted. After a moment, he shifted his gaze toward the inn and made his move.

The man moved in a strange way. His legs bent at awkward angles, yet every step served a clear purpose. Somehow, he avoided all the detection arrays and traps Harphon had left behind. The gnome was not alone either, as he had hired additional protection. In the two rooms beside him, armored men waited, ready to strike. Some were already awake. Even so, the assassin continued forward. Soon, he reached the window, standing sideways against the wall as though his boots could cling to the wood.

From somewhere within his clothing, he drew a dagger etched with strange markings. He did not grip it directly but let it rest on his open palm. A faint glow spread across the blade, and the symbols began to shift. The weapon lifted into the air, hovering as the man slowly guided it closer to the window.

Interesting killing method, Roland thought as he began to understand how the weapon worked. It appeared to be a deadly homing spell or skill that required close proximity to its target. Otherwise, Eleven would have tried to launch it from another building or even from the stronghold walls, where he could have made a quick escape.

‘It’s now or never.’

There was not much time. The dagger floated and began to vibrate before the window, ready to pierce through the layers of magical defenses. Roland could tell the weapon had enough power to break through, and if he did not act now, Harphon would be dead.

“!?”

Eleven’s eyes shot open as he sensed something. An object was descending rapidly from above. Before he could complete his skill, it nearly struck his head, forcing him to leap back in alarm. Although he managed to evade it, the dodecahedron-shaped object suddenly began to glow brightly and exploded right in front of the window he had been using to send the dagger through.

The blast was loud and blinding, but not especially powerful. The barriers surrounding the inn prevented any real damage, yet it was enough to foil his desperate assassination attempt. However, it was not over. As the man jumped back, a massive sword was already descending from above.

“Hey, remember me?”

Roland spoke as he swung the enormous blade downward, its runes glowing deep purple while a massive wave of gravitational energy cascaded toward the ground. Eleven raised his dagger to block. Though his strange skill had been interrupted, it still retained some power. The dagger collided with the crushing magical force from above, and a second explosion erupted in all directions. This one was far stronger, instantly shattering several nearby windows.

“By the god of magic, what is going on!”

Harphon shouted, and the men stationed outside his room rushed in to see what was happening. Other adventurers were awoken as well, everyone spilling from their rooms and onto balconies, weapons half-drawn, armor half-buckled.

“Attack! We’re under attack!”

“What was that explosion?!”

Doors slammed open. Within seconds, the quiet street was alive with confusion as lanterns shone brighter in response to sudden spikes in mana and noise. Yet, as everyone came outside and the dust settled, there was no one there, just a large hole in the ground.

“Someone explain this to me, now!”

Renata, the stronghold watch captain, appeared quickly, barking out orders. There was no sign of Roland or the man named Eleven, only a massive gash carved into the ground and a thin trail leading away from it.

****

“I need to escape. I need to report this to the council. Maybe then they will let me… Huh?”

Eleven was already outside, running as fast as his legs would carry him. He had abandoned his mission, as victory was impossible with that strange, armored man present. However, while moving along what was usually a safe route, he felt a massive surge of mana from the side.

“Monster?”

He dove aside, narrowly avoiding what looked like blue dragon breath. It barely missed him, scorching his blood red robe, which protected him from being burned alive. Yet when the creature emerged from the trees, he noticed something was wrong. It was not a lesser dragon or any monster that should exist within this third layer. Instead, it was a large blue wolf covered in crystalline growths, its mouth filled with azure flames.

“You must really be panicking now if you let that slip. That council. Could you tell me more about it?”

A distant voice came from the opposite side. It was the man he had been wary of, the one called Siegfried.

“…”

“What, do you not want to talk? I know a few ways to make people talk, even trained assassins like you.”

On one side stood the massive wolf, on the other the man clad in dragonlike armor. They blocked two routes of escape, so Eleven made his choice and charged toward the wolf, judging it the easier opponent.

The moment he stepped forward, strange objects erupted from the ground. They glowed brightly as they materialized, releasing a violent surge of electrical energy.

“ARGH!”

He screamed in agony as lightning coursed through his body. The runic objects that had burst from the earth formed a crude triangular cage around him, crackling with chains of bluish-white energy. His muscles spasmed, and his boots carved trenches into the dirt as the current forced him to his knees. His consciousness began to fade, and through the haze, he sensed the armored man joining the assault, further increasing the lightning’s output.

“This should keep you from killing yourself. Once you wake up, we will…”

The words dissolved as everything went black. His consciousness slipped away, swallowed by the darkness…