The Runic Alchemist

Damian walked away from the Worldscribe's office. It took only a few seconds before Runefather came rushing after him, but Damian didn't stop. He continued heading toward the workshop outside. The generator installation was already in its final stages; it wouldn't take much longer.

"Kid, did you just claim you can find our commander? How in the world is that even possible without you even knowing him?" Runefather asked, matching his pace.

"I have a spell," Damian replied while walking. "That's all I'm going to say. Arrange a meeting with the High Table and tell them I might be able to bring him back—if he's still alive. To prove the spell works, I'll demonstrate it. But I'll only do it if they agree to end this nonsense with the empire."

Runefather stared at him, his thoughts clearly racing. Damian stopped and turned to face him.

"Runefather…"

"Yes?"

"If what you told me that day is true—if you genuinely want peace for both the realm and your Bastion—then help me do this. They don't understand what having unlimited mana really means. To them, it's just the strength of an individual. But you're a runesmith. You know what I'm capable of if I choose to wield it.

Believe me, I don't want to stain it by using it for such means. But don't think for a second that I won't, if I am left with no choice."

Damian took a deliberate pause, then continued, "End this mess. I don't know what kind of person Land Breaker was, but wouldn't he want the same? What will he do when he finds out who helped and who didn't to get him back?"

Damian and Runefather locked eyes for a brief moment. Without a word, Damian broke the gaze, turned, and continued toward the exit, leaving Runefather standing alone behind him.

The last line of his argument might have been too harsh, but the situation demanded it. Damian could handle the third rankers, albeit with some effort—but Land Breaker? That was a completely different beast. Truthfully, Damian wanted nothing to do with him, which was precisely why he'd never volunteered for such a reckless move.

There were other complications too. He was certain the dungeons were an entirely separate dimension, possibly light-years away from this world. That was why it made more sense to enter the dungeon first before attempting to cast the spell.

Not that he was even sure the spell would work. But without the cooperation of Land Breaker's closest companions, the plan was doomed from the start. Yet trusting the Highsword third rankers with a spell-imbued runic device carried its own risks. Some of them might be good people—but which ones? And even if they were, could he trust their motives? Did any of them truly want Land Breaker to return?

His request might resolve the instability plaguing the continent—or it might unleash a storm of chaos, sparking internal conflict within the Highswords far earlier than their anticipated six-month reprieve.

But he had the power to act. And if he didn't at least try, even from a safe distance while thousands lost their homes—what was the point of his inventions? Who was he trying to help, if not them? Maybe it was arrogant, as some might say. But damn their opinions, and damn the risks. He would do what he believed was right, no matter what.

Back in the workshop, Damian stood over the airship, making the finishing touches. Nearby, Reize methodically inspected the vessel, double-checking each part. She'd gone over it more than once already, but she seemed determined to leave nothing to chance.

Damian paused mid-adjustment, sensing Sam approaching from the academy.

Earlier, he had distributed their new gear and weapons, instructing everyone to familiarize themselves with the equipment for half an hour while he finished preparing the ship.

"Hey!" Sam called out as he approached.

"Hey," Reize replied. Damian merely nodded without looking up.

As Sam approached and silently stood near Damian while he worked, Reize glanced at him, sensing he had something on his mind. Without a word, she quietly stepped away, giving them space.

Damian continued working, the faint clinking of tools filling the silence. Sam took his time, as if weighing his words carefully, before finally speaking.

"I understand what you're trying to do," Sam finally said, "but have you thought it through? Maybe your feelings for her—"

Damian stopped and turned, frowning. "What are you trying to say?"

"The girl… Lucian. I know you're close to her, and you should help her, but promising to go with her—even fight the Empire's forces—" Sam trailed off, his concern clear.

"Wasn't it you who wanted to help people the most in Eldoris?" Damian asked, confused, not quite understanding where Sam was going with this.

"We were there, seeing it first hand it was necessary. But you've actively avoided fighting for years now. You've worked hard to hide your abilities, so they won't fear you.. You told me you wanted to create, not destroy. I didn't get it then. I was too young and stupid. But after the war, I finally understood.

"I trained as hard as I could, Damian, so you'd never have to fight for me. And now…"

Damian stared at him. "Now what?"
Continue your journey with empire

"Look, don't take this the wrong way," Sam began, hesitating before continuing. "You... you think you have to do everything. You always step in when others would hesitate. It's admirable, really—I respect you for it. You're the closest thing to one of those legendary heroes I've ever seen. Hell, I was saved because of that very trait of yours. But... but listen. You killed the Lord of Pyron—that I get. I don't even know what you did for Vidalia, but I'm sure it was something crazy for her to let you go. You killed that guy Einar wanted revenge on. And then you stayed behind to fight with the Beastmen village chief-I wanted to say something then but I didn't. Now you're on your way to do the same for someone else…"

Damian frowned, sensing where this was going. "You... don't want me to go?"

"No, no," Sam quickly corrected, his voice softer. "Of course I want to help the people of Dawnstar if I can. Even though I don't have the best memories of home, it was still where I came from. I'll follow you wherever you go, do whatever you ask of me.

I'm just saying... sometimes you take on too much. I know you don't trust anyone else to do it, that you feel like you have to handle everything yourself. With your talent, I don't doubt you could. But sometimes, you need to let things be. Not everyone is worth saving. Like that phony prince, or that damn Faerunian shit. Not everyone deserves it, Damian."