The Runic Alchemist

Damian was testing the precision with which he could control the iron golem by having it sew together large parchments with a needle, it was his fifth needle, the golem kept breaking it with it's incredible strength. That's when a knock on the door startled both him and his guards. It was unusual for anyone to visit him.

Then he remembered the guide the commander had mentioned and gestured for Paul to open the door. Paul did so with a knightly grace at that, and to their surprise, it was the foreign knight—Esme, as Damian recalled.

Neither Damian nor his guards spoke, though Damian doubted Esme would have paid attention even if they had. She immediately strode over to the golem, inspecting it from all angles, disbelief shining in her eyes. The poor golem, busy sewing parchments, had no expression, yet somehow seemed uncomfortable under her scrutiny. After she had enough of it, she finally turned towards Damian.

"By the spirits of the forest, Boy, You really did make a goddamned iron golem. I can't believe it," she said, ruffling his hair slightly. "You're just full of surprises aren't you...? How in the world did you even manage it?"

Damian didn't know how to respond. Social interaction wasn't his strong suit, and he especially struggled with compliments. He was so accustomed to people cursing at him that praise felt foreign, often sounding like veiled mockery. But her words were genuine; he could see it in her eyes.

"I can't explain that," he replied simply, making the golem drop the needle and stand upright like a person.

Her eyes lit up with fascination as she watched the golem's fluid movements.

"Did the commander send you here?" Damian asked, noticing she was too engrossed in the golem to focus on anything else.

"Huh? Oh, yes. Lady Vidalia said she'd activate the defense mechanisms and that you'd need a tour of the smithy for something you wanted made..." Esme trailed off mid-sentence, realizing what was happening.

"Yes, we need weapons for the golem. The commander also suggested we have a runesmith imbue it with runes," Damian explained.

"Perfect. Just perfect!" she said, grinning. "Let's go, then."

Damian nodded and stored the golem in his spatial storage. Esme was momentarily startled by its sudden disappearance but quickly pieced together what had happened by glancing at his bracers. Damian followed her, making sure to bring everything important with him—he couldn't risk letting sensitive information fall into the wrong hands.

They waited in another room for the commander to join them, which took 20 long minutes. Damian could have sewn several more parchments in that time. As always, the commander appeared surrounded by her two Queen's Guard companions, walking with her usual majestic stride. Esme bowed, and Damian, under the sharp gazes of the Queen's Guards, reluctantly followed suit.

Once the formalities were over, he trailed behind the two women as they left the wooden building.

Damian rarely left the building unless it was his turn to get beaten or when the commander summoned him for something. The defense mechanisms, as anyone could guess, were set up at four points around the camp, covering it entirely. Each mechanism was a towering iron pillar, topped with a round rare Sacrium metal object etched with ancient runes.

The runic tools crafted from Sacrium were known to be the finest in the world, though Damian had never seen any until now. They said nothing was better conductor of mana than Sacrium metal.

With a series of actions and chants that Damian struggled to comprehend, the commander activated the first of the four defense mechanisms in the camp's northern corner. A massive golden runic circle immediately appeared atop the pillar and platform, humming with energy.

Damian was captivated by the sight, basking in the ethereal glow, while everyone else seemed unfazed, as though the only change was the faint glow of the runes.

The runic circle, imbued with pure light element magic, was so large that Damian couldn't see its entirety from one side. He paced back and forth, stepping farther and farther away to get a better view. Both the commander and Esme exchanged puzzled glances as they watched him.

Even when they urged him to move toward the next pillar, Damian remained absorbed in studying the runic circle until it was out of sight.

He had managed to understand about 20% of its structure, and if the process repeated three more times, he was confident he could memorize it fully. However, Damian doubted even two third-rankers combined could summon the power required to activate it, which explained why it was only used in critical situations by Eldoris. This was no ordinary creation—it was an ancient elven relic.

As expected, the second pillar and its runic circle were identical, glowing with the same golden light. People around the camp watched as they passed, casting curious or hostile looks at Damian, though he paid them no mind. He overheard several rude comments with his name in them but chose to ignore them, not sparing a glance. They did not matter.

Even if he left everything in the world aside and did all day just good helpful things for the people, he would still receive curses for being like that. He never fit in with people, not because he couldn't understand them it was because he understood too well just how weak a man was.

Finally, when the fourth pillar was activated, all four giant runic circles hummed in unison, shooting pillars of light into the sky. Slowly, the beams of light expanded, enveloping the entire camp in a dome of protective energy. Damian guessed that the barrier and light pillars were visible to everyone, as all eyes were now turned upward, marveling at the golden glow.

The atmosphere around them shifted—amazement mixed with fear and excitement for the battle ahead. Many would perish, and many would take lives, but that was the grim reality they had all come here to face. The calm of the camp was merely the prelude to the upcoming storm.