The Runesmith Chapter 654 – Apprentice Dilemma

“A city wi’ all manner o’ folk bein’ judged by the strength o’ their craft an’ not so dusty lineage? Hah! That’s a fine tale ye spin. Interestin’, aye… but I’ve hamred steel long enough to ken when a thing’s too good to be true. There’s no such place in this wide, cracked world.”

Hasim laughed while holding his stomach.

“Them human nobles always have a sche brewin’. Mark words, they’re just usin' the lot of ye to lay the stone and pave the ways. Then once the last brick’s set, they’ll toss the workers out like slag from a slter.“

“Are you calling a liar?”

Roland responded in an offended tone. He had not expected so much pushback about Albrook, but it seed these people had been living under a massive rock called the super dungeon for quite so ti. The kingdom beyond it was not a good place to live. Slavery and prejudice were considered normal there, so the idea that a city could rise that rejected at least part of such practices was beyond their comprehension.

"No. You seem like a reasonable sort, but I think you’ve simply been fooled by a silver tongue."

“Fooled?”

Roland repeated what Hasim had claid. The old dwarf did not believe his description of Albrook and instead assud rumors and promises from the human nobility had deceived him. Roland could not entirely bla him. Hasim was far below the surface in a dungeon, where adventurers made the rules rather than nobles. Perhaps that was one of the reasons he had chosen to remain there, to distance himself from human authority and the laws imposed on other races.

"Aye, well…we’ve talked long enough. Could ye grant just a wee glimpse? Just a peek, mind ye. No need for the others to hear of it. My lips are sealed tighter than a dwarven vault.”

“No.”

“Will ye not think on it again? I’m certain we could strike a fair bargain. We could trade ye sothin’ proper from our own halls…

“I doubt I could find anything there that would fit . This armor was tailor-made for . It would not be of much use to anyone else.”

Roland’s armor was examined closely by the dwarven craftsn. Their expressions shifted when they noticed the runes and the quality of the craftsmanship. Although he was flattered by their reaction, they seed eager to strip him of it and study it piece by piece to uncover its secrets. They detected the gravity magic it generated and were astonished by the sheer output, far beyond that of ordinary magical tools.

To them, it made no sense that the armor functioned at all, and in truth they were correct. Without his multiple passive skills that reduced the mana cost of rune equipnt and spells, he would never have been able to use it. However, he did not wish to tell them that. If they examined it more closely, they would probably figure out that he possessed such skills to power it, and that was not sothing he wanted them to discover.

“But I’m sure the craftsman in Albrook would be willing to trade secrets.”

"Aye, that would be a fine thing, truly, but..."

At the ti, both Hasim and Roland were in a side chamber. Roland was surrounded by other tier three craftsn who were trying to decipher his runes but failing. It also seed that their master wished to exchange so knowledge, yet he was unable to do so.

"Aye, 'tis a sha, but I’m anchored to this dungeon. I cannot be leavin' …

“I see.”

This was sothing Roland had expected. Hasim had a duty to uphold in this stronghold and could not simply leave. The adventurers might not even allow it. The backlog for powerful weapons was trendous, and a journey to Albrook would take around a week. During that ti, he would be leaving the other craftsn under the adventurers’ scrutiny and potentially inviting more incidents like the one with Ers.

Even though Ers was only part of the smithy and not particularly talented, Hasim treated all of them as his disciples. That was another thing Roland had noticed. The man treated his workers quite well. Though his tone was harsh and he even struck them when they failed, if an adventurer threatened them, he was always there to protect them.

‘Apprentices and disciples, huh?’

As they were talking, Roland glanced at the people around them. So were young, others old, but one thing was certain: they all revered their master. For a mont, he wondered what it would be like to have apprentices of his own. Bernir was more of an assistant and now a man standing on his own feet, so Roland saw him more as a friend or coworker than a disciple he had taught. For soone to truly beco his apprentice, that person would need to take up the mantle of a true runesmith and inherit the rune knowledge he had amassed.

There were advantages and disadvantages to having an apprentice, and many ways a master could approach it in this world. So provided vast resources to push their students’ progress. Others offered nothing beyond basic work, knowing that even shaping a horseshoe would increase skill, leaving everything to the individual and the world’s system to guide them.

Roland was no stranger to teaching. He had spent ti at the Institute doing exactly that. Yet he had never truly taught anyone the craft of creating runes. There were many reasons. He was naturally paranoid and a loner at heart. If he could do sothing himself, he preferred not to involve others, as that created debts, responsibilities, and attachnts.

Attachnts were dangerous. They created weaknesses, expectations, and obligations. If he taught soone everything he knew, that person could beco an invaluable ally or a blade aid at his back. It was a risk he had chosen to avoid because it seed too troubleso. Still, after seeing this well-run smithy, he began to wonder whether he could use so help.

Albrook was expanding, yet only a handful of people worked in his workshop. Bernir and his wife handled most of the regular smithing tasks while Roland focused on planning and runes. Much of his workload depended on the dwarven union, but having help with so of his greater secrets could prove advantageous and save a great deal of ti.

‘An apprentice, but who could I trust?’

Finding willing apprentices would not be difficult. If he posted an official notice, swarms of craftsn would appear from nowhere. The chance to work under a tier three craftsman was sothing every aspiring blacksmith dread of. However, such an opportunity would also invite spies from Arthur’s brothers, or worse, candidates who could be blackmailed or bought for information.

‘Maybe I should find soone who couldn’t betray ?’

At first, he did not have anyone in mind, but suddenly, a certain face appeared in his thoughts, soone within this compound. She and her father were not in the room with them, yet he could see her dot on his helt display. Millie was already indebted to him, and if he revealed that he was the one who had saved her father from certain doom in the dungeon, she would feel even more obligated. The girl seed headstrong and principled, but as he continued down that line of thinking, a sour taste filled his mouth.

‘What am I even doing? Planning to blackmail a teenage girl into becoming my apprentice?’

He forced himself to stop. He did not like where those thoughts were leading. In his paranoia, he was forgetting that these were still people. Roland had grown used to seeing others as points on a graph. He could select soone with potential, but he could never truly know what would happen ten years from now. Betrayal was always a possibility, and if he allowed himself to fear it constantly, he would never get past that barrier or take on even a single new worker.

‘That is not how a master should choose a disciple.’

Using debt as a leash. Leveraging gratitude. Revealing secrets to bind soone through obligation. It was efficient, safe, and logical, but it was also exactly the kind of manipulation he despised in the nobles. Hasim’s earlier words about them echoed in his mind, and he decided to reconsider his approach.

‘A little trust and generosity go a long way, provided I choose the right person and draft the right contract.’

Roland’s gaze drifted toward the door where Millie stood. He knew he might never fully cast aside his paranoia, but he could at least try to do better if he truly intended to take on an apprentice. Still, other matters needed to be settled before he took that step.

“Master Hasim, would you like to relay this to the Albrook Master Runesmith? I am sure he will make the trip here eventually, though it could take a few weeks, perhaps even a month or two.”

“Weeks?”

Hasim raised an eyebrow. At first, Roland wondered if he was offended, but the reaction seed quite the opposite.

"That’s a bit fast for a lad who forged such a fine suit o' plate, ain't it? Ye must know him well to trust ye like that…”

It seed Hasim assud that a Master Runesmith capable of creating such an exquisite suit of armor would be swamped with work and unable to travel for several months, perhaps even up to a year. That suggested Siegfried, his current persona, must have so influence or leverage that could persuade the man to co sooner.

“Ah, yes. We have so history, and he is willing to trade crafting knowledge with other craftsn.”

“Aye, well, he certainly ain’t a dwarf. Makes things easier.”

Hasim laughed. Dwarves were often bound by contracts and reluctant to share their knowledge because of their traditions. Human craftsn, however, were not bound in quite the sa way. The old dwarf's laughter faded, and he stepped closer again.

“If this master o’ yours is willin’ to trade knowledge, I’ve got knowledge worth tradin’.“

Roland’s eyes flicked as he rembered the golems he had seen, along with the massive one that had been partially built. He wanted to trade for those golem schematics and get his hands on their runic operating systems. However, this trade would not be easy. It would require sothing extraordinary. When he looked at Hasim’s artificial eye, he knew he had exactly what might tempt him.

“I’ll tell him that. I think he’ll have sothing you’ll be interested in.”

“Aye, he better! Get along wit' ye then, Siegfried.”

After refusing several tis, Hasim finally relented and agreed to trade later with the Albrook Runesmith, whose true identity would be revealed once Roland had everything prepared. With that settled, Roland heard the other craftsn complaining again, but he did not care. The deal was made, and he soon left the area. He was not leaving empty-handed, as old habits die hard.

Throughout his visit, he used not only his debugging skill on various runes to copy their schematics, but also his own sharp senses. The people there did not suspect him of being a runesmith, so he was even allowed to approach so of the golems for a closer look. While he could not examine them in detail, he had gained a small taste of what awaited him when he returned in earnest.

As he reached the main storefront, he saw Millie and her father, Ers, waiting near the entrance. Ers looked haggard, not from the journey but from having his ear shouted off by his own daughter and likely by Hasim as well for disappearing so long without a word.

Roland began to walk past them toward the street, his mind already calculating the logistics of persuading himself to return in a month, when a small, firm hand shot out and caught the edge of his vambrace.

“Hold on just a minute.”

Millie spoke with a voice that was not loud but full of vigor. Roland paused, his helt tilting slightly.

“Yes? Was there sothing more?”

He wondered what she wanted. While he was considering taking her on as an apprentice, only ti would tell if that would co to pass. There were several obstacles ahead, as he did not want to reveal himself as Wayland the Runesmith just yet.

“Did you forget already, Mister Siegfried? You were going to stay at our inn.”

She proclaid and then pointed to the streets.

“Look, the lamps are already being lit, and you do not want to be wandering outside in the dark.”

She smiled, leaving him with little room to argue.

“I see…”

To be honest, he thought this might be a good opportunity to get to know the girl better and also to fit in more with the residents.

“Co, Amun. Let us go to the inn.”

“Woof!”

Agni appeared almost instantly, and Millie imdiately began scratching behind his ear, a spot that produced a goofy look on the wolf’s face. Soon, he walked through the city with the father and daughter as the lights around them began to dim.

Their next stop was the Red Dragon Inn, where Millie’s mother was waiting. Ers walked quickly, clearly worried about her, and the others hurried to keep up. Before long, they arrived.

The sign above the doorway creaked in the evening draft, a carved wyrm coiled around a tankard, its painted scales chipped by years of smoke and steam. Warm light spilled from the windows of the Red Dragon Inn. In one of them, a face peeked out, strikingly similar to Millie’s, only older. The woman’s gaze fell on the approaching group, and Ers ran ahead and pushed the door open before she could rush outside. The door banged against the wall as Ers stumbled inside.

“Lysa!”

He shouted as loud as he could, making everyone turn their heads. The woman who had been at the window was already halfway across the common room. She caught him by the shoulders before he could say another word and looked him over as if checking if he wasn’t a ghost.

“You damned fool! Do you have any idea…”

“I know, I know.”

Ers muttered as his eyes began to fill with tears, which soon prompted Lysa to tear up as well. The reunion was tender, and for a mont, they simply held each other and sobbed. Their daughter Millie stepped forward and wrapped her arms around them both.

The adventurers nearby were unsure how to react. So whistled awkwardly while others complained that their food was not arriving on ti.

“Hey, where is my roast?”

“Leave them be. Have you no tact?”

“I would if I had sothing to eat!”

Two adventurers began arguing as Roland stepped into the inn.

“I will have your roast ready in just a minute, learn so patience!”

Millie called out, giving her parents a mont to compose themselves before reluctantly pulling away. She wiped her eyes with the back of her sleeve and slipped behind the counter with the ease of long practice.

“Sit wherever you like, Mister Siegfried!”

She passed him with a tray piled high with at and drink, clearly accustod to rowdy adventurers and their behavior.

“I will bring you sothing warm in just a mont, then show you to your room!”

Roland inclined his helted head and moved to a table near the wall. He chose a seat that allowed him to observe both the entrance and the stairway leading upstairs. In truth, he wanted nothing more than to leave, but he could use this opportunity to place so protections within the building.

He leaned back slightly and, without drawing attention, activated one of his spatial runes. A small spider golem slipped from within his sleeve. It crawled into a narrow crack in the wall and burrowed inside while he ensured no one was watching. Once it disappeared, he discreetly sealed the damaged spot and added a thin layer of magical protection to prevent other mages from detecting it.

‘Once I get to that room, I’ll place a few there.’

The inn’s location was convenient, nearly at the center of the stronghold, making it an ideal focal point for his monitoring system. With it established, he could even begin communicating with so of his creations outside the walls, including the hidden chamber within the forest.

The main room was lively but controlled. A handful of adventurers occupied the larger tables, their armor dented and cloaks stained with gri. Their noise provided perfect cover for his devices. He straightened as soone approached. It was Millie, accompanied by both her father and mother. It seed they wished to speak with him, most likely to thank him for his continued help.

‘My stay here is starting to drag on. I need to wrap things up and get back to work…’

That was what Roland told himself. Even so, he could not turn these three people away. He had already chosen to involve himself in their lives, and as long as they remained under his protection, he would not allow any harm to co to them. Whoever was responsible for all of this, he intended to find and punish.