(Second Book Complete!) Runeblade: A Delving & Skill Merging LitRPG B4 Chapter 477: Guild Announcements, pt. 1

Stepping back onto the streets of Deadacre, Kaius was returned to a smog of tension and fear.

Thankfully, the veteran runewrights he had been asked to assist had corrected their estimations, and were in the middle of a full tune-up of the city’s defences. It had only taken a couple of hours. Two of them had a wealth of experience with the script it used, and while Manthe had only had a little passing familiarity with it, his great-grandfather had been the last runewright to service the large-scale enchantnt. Kaius was sure the runewright was familiar with his predecessor's work, and had access to his great-grandfather’s notes on its idiosyncrasies. All Kaius had had to do was lend his skills with mana, and his experience at probing its flow through formations.

They had discovered four dozen problematic regions of the central core of the formation. Age and ti had degraded the runes and caused instability — not enough for the reinforcent of the walls to instantly fail, but enough for it to be less efficient, and potentially cause problems if it was stressed too hard and too fast by a singular assault.

Thanks to the quick turnaround of his work, he was granted full witness to how the city was taking Governor Hanrick’s news that an army of beasts was coming.

It had only been a few hours since the governor’s announcent, and even in the wealthy districts surrounding Hanrick’s manor, people were rushing through the streets. He could almost see the news rolling through crowds and houses. It was physical — soone rushed into a house, and four more burst out a minute later to carry the news further.

Everywhere he went, people stared at him. Even if he was not dressed in his full suit of armour, he still had his sword belted at his waist, and he still exuded an aura of power.

He couldn’t help but et so of their eyes. There were just too many of them. He wasn’t sure if he liked what he found there: need, hope, reassurance.

Kaius forced himself to keep his face stoic, and his strides strong and true — despite the awkward numbness of the prosthetic hidden beneath his trousers and boot. It was a projected confidence, but it still helped a little. Giving the crowd a little surety in its defenders was the least he could do.

Inwardly, Kaius simply wanted to sigh. He was one man. Even with his team, potential mage assistance from Mystral, and the other second tiers present in the city, there wasn’t enough. Not to single-handedly beat back an army. People would die, and there wasn’t a lick he could do to change it.

It was the sobering reality that made him question the enthusiasm he’d felt talking with the runewrights earlier. It felt inappropriate to take ti to all but gloat.

At least it had earned him so valuable information.

The Collective. It seed like a useful place, though it might not have been as politically dominant as the guild, given that he hadn’t even heard of it before. If it was an established institution, it would be useful to leverage to spread his discoveries. Too much of his life had been wrapped up in the struggles and problems that had co from people hiding secrets, and leaving no thod for others to find them.

He wouldn’t repeat that mistake, especially not when he lived his life by the blade. The risk was far too high that he would et a violent end.

Ianmus had made ntion of writing a treatise with the visiting mages to take back with them to Mystral. Perhaps he should do the sa. Sure, the spires were institutions of spellcraft, not runic inscription — but there were ties between the disciplines, and his own art was as much a relative of magery as it was enchanting.

That, at least, would help to protect his discoveries in case Deadacre fell.

Kaius frowned. The beasts hadn’t even been spotted and already he was planning contingencies for if the city fell. He knew it was a wise course, but it was still a little too close to defeatism for his taste.

As he passed from the intricately carved stone manors of the central district to the more varied wooden and stone constructions surrounding them, Kaius saw that the working n of the city were just as worried as its wealthier inhabitants. But there was industry there too. Even far from the industrial and delving districts, you could hear the ringing of blacksmiths’ hamrs, and catch the acrid smog of alchemical by-products.

There wasn’t just fear on the faces of the n that tore across the streets, rushing from place to place. Their brows were furrowed with determination, and their jaws set with stubborn resolve.

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The city was preparing itself to fight.

By the gods, so would he — regardless of his missing leg, or his worries about his effectiveness in a full-scale siege. He was one of the strongest people in Deadacre. He had war magic, and more.

He knew, intensely and irrevocably, that his purpose was the struggle and the climb. If he did not leverage that steadfast resolve in the defence of others when they needed it most, what kind of man could he call himself?

So, he knew, would flee the city, and he did not bla them. Governor Hanrick had made it clear that even if the monuntally powerful mages that headed the Mystral Council were unable to lend their personal strength in the defence of the city, they would welco any and all who sought to shelter in the reaches of their walls.

Yet it was still a risk. The tyrant’s influence had drained the frontier east of the city of beasts — but the west, towards the Wildgard Mountains and Mystral beyond, was still a land of terrors. Many would lack the resources and strength to feel confident in making the journey. Even with a mass exodus, there was a certainty to city walls; and given that Hanrick, in his speech, had said that shelter would be found beneath the city— no. Plenty of innocents would remain.

Chewing the inside of his cheek, Kaius felt a brush of awareness at the back of his mind.

Porkchop reaching out. While there were limits to his brother’s natural telepathy, their bond dissolved almost all of them.

“Are you alright?” Porkchop asked.” I can tell you’ve finished with the formation, but you went from interested and excited to all bothered. What’s happened?”

“It’s just the city. It’s like a madhouse,” Kaius replied. “People are readying themselves, but for every one that looks prepared to go down swinging, there’s another five that look terrified. I’m worried for them, Porkchop. Personal strength isn’t enough in a war.”

“Not yet, but maybe one day,” Porkchop replied.

Kaius did his best to school his expression. He was still the object of much attention as he made his way back to the dusty stables. No point frowning at nothing.

“We are far from the peak, Kaius. Think of Xenanra. Or Ekum. When we ascend ourselves, would it not be trivial to prevent sothing as mundane as a siege?”

Kaius slowed his steps, thinking it through. While he had co to terms with the fact that he had set himself on a path to the peak, it was often difficult to rember just what that truly ant.

There was more to it than simple absolute strength — there was an elent of supremacy that was undeniable. As a Silver, he could count himself amongst the most powerful on the continent. A strength that was practically mythical to the average person, even if he discounted the advantages of a Heroic class and his many Honours.

And if he reached the third tier? The fourth? Whatever reaches lay beyond that? He may as well be a god — there was little difference between that and ascendancy to the common man.

Yet what help was potential, strength that might one day be, for the good people of Deadacre? What of the man a dozen strides ahead of him, desperately clutching two sacks of flour as he watched every passer-by like they would gut him for his goods? The mother on the corner, blinking away tears even as she spoke kind words to her young son — a child whose face was blanched with dread?

Hells, even the number of blades and bludgeons he’d seen belted on hips had quintupled in the last day alone.

“I suppose that even if that is the case in the future, it does not help us here and now,” he finally responded.

“Perhaps,” Porkchop replied. “But it is best we keep it in mind. Failure is not a certainty, and as our journeys continue, we can pride ourselves on the lives we can save. You should rember that here and now, as you put it, we will save many. To them, our efforts will an the world, and we should not forget it.”

Porkchop’s words sat heavy within him. There was truth and wisdom in the sentint, and he could admit that the thought did bring him so solace.

But it was impossible to ignore the totality of what the city faced.

“Oh, one more thing,” Porkchop added.

“Yes?”

“We received word from Rieker and Ro. They’ve called the guild to attendance in only a few hours’ ti. Olmos gave them the go-ahead to accelerate their plans on sharing Honours and legacy skills — so the… unrest in the city will not end for so ti yet.”

That was enough for Kaius to let out a breath of relief. Good. That, too, would give the city hope. And while legacy skills would not change the war— skills were not overly helpful for those who had already obtained their classes — there were likely thousands of unclassed in the city. The skills he had shared might just be enough to help keep them alive in the coming days, and the knowledge of Honours would give the warriors who fought in the city’s defence sothing to strive and hope for.

“That’s not the only thing.” Porkchop said.

Kaius could practically feel Porkchop grinning in his mind.

“We were told that Olmos leveraged the secrets we shared with him. It was rare, but the guild’s reach is far. They managed to secure more skills.”

Kaius halted mid-stride, in the middle of the street. As hurried and stressed as his fellow pedestrians were, it didn’t stop them from staring at him curiously.

“He what?”