The Runic Alchemist

Chapter 930: The Wild Continent 3

The Wyvern King, like most kings on this continent, was a transcendent or similar equivalent. People on this continent had a slightly weird ascensions.

There were only two classes for them. Well, actually three, but selecting Esper was considered taboo here. Anyone who did that was branded with a burning iron on their forehead and made an outcast.

Pugilist and Mage.

Males predominantly chose pugilist while females opted for mage, but this wasn’t a strict rule, and many exceptions existed. Still, their society somewhat respected the old views of set class, and it was reflected in the majority of their population. Valery, being a mundane and a woman, felt very uncomfortable seeing the lives of tribeswomen.

If they were pathfinders, the path of the warrior was somewhat good, but as a mundane, they were only used for childbearing and labour by the warriors. Even the female warriors were sexually assaulted in the name of war at times. They had stopped thousands of such incidents from happening on battle-relief missions.

The Wyvern King was a pugilist. Unlike humans, when beastmen become a pugilist, their innate bloodlines become stronger, and they receive unique bloodline skills. This was also the main reason why Sanctuary beastmen mostly chose pugilist as their class. As a mage, they lose these bloodline skills, but becoming a mage is relatively easier than becoming a pugilist. That’s just at the start though.

The Mage class took a lot of work, brainpower, and research to ascend afterwards, and the Pugilist class’s later ascensions were just working hard and fighting through.

After exchanging small talk, Lord Tristan got to the main point.

“—The young minds pick up things much faster. If the education centers are built in all villages, the farming and tool making will see a significant growth, which will only boost the wealth and prosperity of your highness’s Wyvern Tribe.”

“Another of your free things, huh?” The King replied, not showing much interest.

This was their new mission. To officially bring people from the Mainland to the tribes to teach the children from a young age how big the world truly is. There was, of course, religious teaching involved in the education. The Wild Continent had no god or religion, except for worshipping the deeds of their ancestors.

“Of course, we would try to teach them how to put spells into metal tools as well. Like the ones we use, any tribesmen might be able to use the tools they make without mana.” Lord Tristan finally added the main point of interest for the King.

And it had the intended effect. Suddenly, all warriors present in the King’s Nu shifted their focus to Lord Tristan’s smiling face.

“Why can’t you teach that directly to us?” The King replied, feigning disinterest, but his eyes betrayed his true feelings.

“It’s a skill learned before a child ascends. Warriors set in their ways can’t learn them. I, myself, am simply a mage and nothing more.” Lord Tristan answered.

“Hah.. Fahazha Ku’ Siriv..” One of the warriors commented, and a wave of laughter spread in the hut, which the King stopped with a gesture of his hand. [Fahazha Ku’ Siriv – Mage and a woman, probably.]

The King acted as if the disrespect was offensive to him as well, but his body language clearly stated he enjoyed that. If it were something truly offensive to him, the warrior beastmen would have been punished severely.

They did not know many words, but all present understood those words. It wasn’t the first time someone had called Lord Tristan and Theren by that. She, too, was called Kuilta many times, which meant ’Woman of no worth other than her female parts’.

Of course, they never let anyone go who said such things. They did not like to do violence, but that did not mean they had to endure such insults. Lord Damian’s Supreme potions could even regenerate severed limbs; they had enough supply of them, so they could do whatever they wanted with aggressors.

This meeting was important, but still, Lord Tristan did not let that slide,

“Perhaps his majesty Hawk King’s Nu is more respectful of guests. I wonder what he would think of having spell imbued metal weapons. I think I will go try there.”

The mood in the hut changed in an instant. The hostile glares were directed at all of them, but mostly at Lord Tristan and Lady Seraphina.

“We challenge this rude warrior to a duel.” Lady Seraphina did not hesitate at all and stated with a serious face.

“A transcendent can’t challenge a second ranker.” The old, battle-scarred Dog-man warrior reminded.

“Don’t worry. You will not be bullied by us transcendents. For a false warrior such as him, even our mundanes are more than enough.” Lady Seraphina replied with a scary-looking smile.

A single sweat drop trickled down Valery’s forehead as she suddenly became the centre of attention.

’Wasn’t it the two of you who warned us to behave a few minutes ago?’

Two minutes later, Valery stood straight, facing down the second ranker pugilist Boar-man. She was still in her casual armor. Just with a runic sword in hand now.

Duel was a serious thing for the people of the Wild Continent. They had to be to the death. Otherwise, it was not a duel at all. If she loses the duel, her armour will be his, and if he loses his Nu will be given to another warrior. Foreigners could not claim a Nu.

The Boarman charged towards her at full speed the moment the signal was given. His two arms were coated in a dark red aura, making a tight fist. Valery felt like the land was shaking with every step the mountain of muscle took forward. Midway through, his wide mouth opened wide, and a stream of dark, oily liquid was thrown out towards her.

When his aura fist connected with the liquid, it was set on furious fire. Valery saw a wall of flame blocking her view, which was about to land on her. But she did not step back at all.

Looking forward, Valery activated stength potion injection with a flip of a switch, along with metal wings, and jumped above the fiery wall. As she expected, it was just a distraction. Behind the wall, the Boarman had jumped with all his leg strength, his fist aimed towards her head.

Noticing her jumping, the Boarman kicked the air with vengeance and changed direction midway through.

“Excalibur,” Valery murmured, and the sword in her hand activated.

With a blinding light, the sword heated to the point of bending the very air itself. The Boarman was forced to close his eyes; Valery’s visor gave her a clear view, and armor protected her from the metal’s heat. She slightly adjusted her trajectory and pushed the sword through the flesh, increasing the weight at the last time.

A second later, she landed, and the blinding light subsided. A few meters away from her, two charred halves of the Boarman burned in the fire of his own making.