Damian grinned like a maniac as he observed the runic circle, its black and gold hues srizing. He knew relics existed with this one critical function he desperately needed, but getting his hands on one had proven impossible. Nobles rarely disclosed the treasures they hoarded.
Finally, he had a section of a runic circle capable of locking all his important creations, ensuring only he could use them. It was all just a play of ID's and so specific weaves and runes supporting it.
The week had been lost in a flurry of work. Everyone seed to be rushing, doing their best to learn and prepare as much as possible before the academy started and they delved into the dungeon.
One by one, the students who had gone ho returned. Ervin and Grace had done an excellent job selecting individuals who showed promise as fighters and were decent enough to work with in the dungeon. Still, Damian took the ti to speak with each one, assessing their character before agreeing to give them a spot in exchange for seeing their relics or accepting materials.
So far, none of the people deviated from Ervin and Grace's descriptions, which unnerved Damian. It was astounding how much information they had managed to gather about people in just six months.
Although Damian had a mountain of runic circles to study, he collected them all in his book, docunting their effects for future reference. For now, his focus was on completing his preparations and entering the dungeon.
One of his invites elicited an unexpected response. Damian knew that asking Alex directly would make the guy act weird, so he had sent the invitation to the royal palace in Faerunia instead.
Alex showed up in the Knowledge Keeper's ss one afternoon, holding a letter and glaring at Damian as though he wanted to kill him. Guessing that Alex was there for him, Damian left the ss hall and followed him into a side hall for privacy.
"You did that on purpose, didn't you?" Alex accused him the mont they were alone.
"Everything I do has a purpose. Which one are you referring to?" Damian replied casually.
"Don't play dumb, you bastard!"
"What do you want, Alex?"
"Hmph," Alex huffed, his expression almost pouty, and handed him the letter.
Damian opened it and began reading. The further he read, the more his brow furrowed. It was an offer, signed by the King of Faerunia himself—though Damian doubted The Sea Snake had personally written it. It was likely the work of a court official.
The letter, full of noble bureaucratic nonsense, boiled down to one clear ssage: Give us one of your artificial mana cores, and we will grant a pardon to both you and your friend.
"That was very ballsy of you—creating a ss directly in my ho, you coward!" Alex spat, though his last words were barely above a whisper.
"Oh? Not going to challenge
to a duel?" Damian teased, enjoying Alex's frustration.
Alex gritted his teeth, glaring before looking away. After the survival exam, where Damian had showcased his abilities, the dueling communities had gone uncharacteristically quiet around him.
"So," Damian said, his tone shifting to seriousness, "is there more to this, or should I assu your entire kingdom is full of delusional people?"
"Isn't it obvious?" Alex muttered. "I told Ves this plan wouldn't work—he'd never understand the aning behind it. But no, she just had to bother Father for it."
Damian blinked. So, this was Vesperine's doing? She'd convinced The Sea Snake to sign it.
The letter itself was riddled with typical noble bureaucratic jargon, but beneath that, if it was Alex's sister's doing-it conveyed a clear point of contact. The king's involvent didn't suggest an offer—it was a subtle hint. Vesperine, the princess of Faerunia, was trying to signal that there was a hope for negotiation and they were up for it if he wanted to clear his na.
More importantly though, it confird what Damian had already suspected about the Faerunia royalty's perception of him and Sam.
"Alright, then. Anything else? Are you coming with us or not?" Damian asked, folding the letter and slipping it into his pocket.
"I'm bringing five people with ," Alex replied, almost defiantly.
"Your friends, right? I already sent invites to so of them too, they even accepted." Damian said, smirking at Alex's discomfort.
"I'm only coming because they forced
to! Did you hear that?"
"Yes, yes. Just do your part, don't cause trouble, and you can ascend again—or receive rare items. Whatever your goal is," Damian replied, turning to leave.
Before he could, Alex grabbed his shoulder.
"Listen carefully," Alex said, his tone and expression serious. "You may have trinkets to trade for your cris, and you may even get a pardon. But I know who you are—an anomaly. If you ever prove to be a threat to my people, I'll kill you a hundred tis over, even if it ans dying a thousand tis myself."
Damian simply nodded as Alex walked away. He couldn't quite grasp what Alex thought of him, but he suspected that the events of that night had left a far deeper impression on the young boy than he realized—enough to fuel this obsession.
That evening, Damian's work on mana generator installations was interrupted by Ervin, Grace, Einar, Adrian, and Fiona entering the workshop with worried expressions.
He stepped outside with them for privacy.
"Is sothing wrong? Where's Lucian?" Damian asked.
Grace exchanged glances with Fiona and Adrian before responding. "So of the Northern Dawnstar students returned this evening. The situation there is worse than expected. The defense line has broken. My father, Duke Ashborne, called all his banners and hired sellswords to reinforce it weeks ago, but there's been no word from Lord Silas or Baron Goldilocks who were supposed to be at the border.
So injured soldiers made it back, saying they were overwheld by a surprise massive spell attack and didn't even see what hit them before retreating. They survived the return after running away, but most didn't. No one knows what's going on there. All contact is lost. Over ten thousand Dawnstar people are either missing or dead."
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