The Runesmith

Chapter 590: Aura Rapier.

The sound of metal striking metal echoed through the stone walls of Roland’s workshop. Sparks burst from the glowing piece of metal as he brought his hammer down again, driving the precise curvature into the steel with the same kind of obsession he reserved only for his finest works. His eyes, shielded behind thick work goggles, remained wide open, focused on an enhanced view.

With each strike, a display lit up, revealing a series of numbers and small diagrams that only he could interpret. Sweat dripped down his brow toward the glowing anvil, but the drop vanished in a hiss of steam before it could land. He kept hammering, faster and faster, as if racing against time.

The weapon he was shaping began to take form, becoming something long, thin, and sharp. His hand moved in a blur as magic crackled with every blow, charging the metal not only with heat but also with raw magical energy. The blade’s final shape emerged, revealing the profile of a weapon typically used for heavy rapiers. Nearby, an ornate hilt sat ready, assembled and waiting for the completion of the most vital piece.

Roland did not pause until he was certain the metal was ready for the final stage. Only then did he stop and turn his head toward his assistant, Bernir, who was waiting nearby. He gave a silent nod, and the ornate hilt was lifted and brought over. This was the most critical part of the process, the fusion of the blade and hilt. The metals used in this project were notoriously difficult to work with. Once they cooled, they could not be reshaped without being destroyed, as the heat required to do so would have to be many times greater than what was currently being applied.

Roland exhaled slowly, steadying his nerves as he placed the newly forged blade onto a specialized setting table. At first glance, the table seemed unremarkable, lacking any visible components to support a blade or a hilt. But as soon as he brought the blade closer, a series of runes began to glow. Tiny threads of mana danced along the surface and soon connected with the blade, vanishing from sight to anyone without magical perception.

The blade began to float in midair, held in place by a magical spell that continued to generate heat and keep the metal malleable. Bernir stepped forward and pressed the hilt into position from one end. His entire body was wrapped in layers of protective material that concealed his form completely. While Roland could endure the heat and magical forces with nothing but his own body, a more common craftsman like Bernir needed protection from the hazardous energy.

Soon, the hilt slid into place with a sharp hiss that echoed through the chamber. The fusion was not only physical but also magical. As the pieces joined, the metals merged seamlessly, and the pre-crafted rune traces aligned and bonded with perfect precision.

Roland remained focused on the task, his hand resting on the charring blade without harm. He guided the mana in the correct direction, ensuring the hilt settled into place exactly as intended. Once satisfied, he gave a nod to Bernir, signaling him to step back.

"It’s stabilized. The hilt application sequence was successful."

While the two craftsmen focused intently on their work, a voice echoed through the chamber, seemingly coming from every direction. It was Sebastian, observing the entire process and recording it for future reference and analysis. Roland understood that there were always aspects that could be improved. He also hoped to eventually automate these procedures, so collecting detailed data on his custom creations was essential.

"We did it, boss!"

"Not quite yet. It still needs some work."

"You mean the decorative gems? Don’t worry, I’ll handle that in no time. Just leave it to me!"

Roland nodded as he watched the hilt and blade enter a specialized cooling phase. Unlike other metals that could be quenched in water or oil, this mithril blend was far too volatile for conventional methods. Instead, structures resembling tuning forks emerged from all sides of the bench where the blade had been assembled.

While Bernir could not see much with the naked eye, waves of mana began to strike the sizzling blade from every direction, rapidly cooling it in a controlled and even manner. Once it was finally safe to handle, his assistant grabbed a pair of tongs and carefully moved it to another workstation. Although the blade was now fully forged, it still required ornamental details worthy of the noble who would one day wield it.

As the newly forged blade was set gently onto a padded resting block, its pale silver surface shimmered under the soft glow of the workshop's runic lamps. To the side, another sword, identical in every measurable aspect, lay on a red velvet cloth. Roland walked over and stood above this other rapier, and picked it up.

Roland raised an eyebrow as he examined the weapon. Originally, it had no set bonus, but now that he had nearly completed the twin blade known as ‘Aura Lord’s Left Rapier’, this one had gained a set effect. Set bonuses were rare, as most weapons functioned as standalone items. However, exceptions occurred when the weapons were designed for classes that specialized in dual-wielding. 𝔯ãＮỒВÈＳ

What he held was a heavy rapier, though to him it felt as light as a feather. Compared to some weapons that resembled tree trunks in size, this one was sleek and elegant. As he examined it, he had to admit he had come a long way since his last ascension trial. If his creations were now judged purely on style, he was confident his score would be much higher.

"A weapon fit for a Lord."

Although Roland wasn’t an aura user himself, he could mimic the energy to some extent. This particular weapon had been crafted precisely to enhance Arthur’s aura-wielding abilities. With it in hand, Arthur would be able to fully unleash his power without risking overload from his class’s rarity. While rare classes often granted immense strength, that strength could backfire and overwhelm lesser equipment.

Roland understood this better than most. Even his own armor and runes constantly required maintenance and careful monitoring to prevent deterioration. He had the skills to repair and reinforce his gear when needed, but Arthur did not. That meant the weapon could not fail him, no matter the circumstance, as his life depended on it.

Roland carefully set down the rapier in his right hand, then turned to the newly forged blade that was nearly finished. The aura of heat had long since faded, allowing Bernir to complete the final touches by attaching a large decorative gem to the end of the hilt. Although it resembled a mana stone, its purpose was far less significant, and its durability matched that of the sword itself. Even if struck, the gem would not chip or detach. Roland had chosen the pieces with care to complement his latest creation, which was meant to serve not only as a weapon but also as a symbol of wealth.

“Don’t worry, Boss. I can finish this by myself. Why don’t you prepare for your trip instead?”

“I’ll leave the rest in your care then.”

The assembly of the two weapons had begun immediately after Arthur completed his class change, although the preparations had started much earlier. With most of the work already done, the final step only required selecting the appropriate runes, shaping the blade, and attaching the hilt to the weapon. The design and appearance of the weapons had mostly been decided by their future owner, who was expected to receive them within a few hours.

Before leaving, Roland glanced at his assistant, who seemed to be enjoying the work. Bernir's level was approaching one hundred and fifty, and it looked like he would soon reach tier three.

‘I’d rather keep this quiet for now, but I suppose there’s no helping it.’

He moved forward, reflecting on the meaning behind this assembly. Although they had defeated many monsters and managed to liberate a city from Theodore's control, it did not mean they had won the Culling event. Still, their actions were likely to draw attention. Nobles and shadowy figures alike would examine them closely, trying to understand how such a group could rise so quickly and produce so many tier three individuals in such a short time.

‘I wish I knew what that Duke was really after…’

It still bothered him. The reason for the assembly remained unclear, and it felt as though he was willingly walking into the belly of a beast. He had no idea what the Valerian house was truly planning. In the worst-case scenario, the gathering was a trap designed to bring all the brothers and nobles together for a different kind of culling. Although the likelihood was low, he couldn’t ignore the possibility that they might be attacked during the journey.

What made things worse was the knowledge that his magical gear would likely be confiscated. The armor he wore was embedded with a large number of custom-made runes and crafted from rare, expensive materials. In modern terms, it would be like bringing a machine gun to a cocktail party. There was no chance he would be allowed through the front entrance with equipment like that, so he either needed to remove it entirely or find a trench coat large enough to hide the equivalent of a machine gun beneath it.

Fortunately, he had the largest coat this world could offer—spatial runes capable of holding enough gear to fill an aircraft hangar. The challenge was sneaking it all in without being detected, which could turn out to be either surprisingly simple or frustratingly difficult. As he walked forward, his gaze settled on the array of armor and weapons on display. Each piece glistened and radiated power. Wearing even one of them to the gathering would spare him a great deal of trouble, but he knew that was out of the question. Instead, he needed to approach this with strategy and precision.

He stepped into his armory, where all his elemental armors stood on display across the racks. Just a day earlier, he had worn the Salamander set to battle plant-based lesser dragons. He approached the scaled red armor and pulled something from it, a card. It looked like an ordinary playing card, the king of hearts, but it was far more than that.

As he channeled his mana into it, glowing runes activated, and the armor vanished, pulled into the spatial pocket hidden within the card. This seemingly simple piece of paper now stored an entire suit of armor. When the rune was activated again, the card would ignite like a scroll, releasing the armor. Even if the card were destroyed, he had the coordinates of the spatial pocket memorized, so the armor would never be truly lost.

It was a clever trick, but he had learned not to rely on a single solution to a problem. At first, he had considered storing every suit of armor inside the deck of cards. The thought of compact, portable access to his arsenal was tempting, but he hesitated. If the guards ever confiscated the cards, he would be left defenseless. It was better to avoid putting all his eggs in one basket. So he decided to diversify his approach.

Now he held a silvery clasp, the kind used to secure a cape, engraved with the Valerian crest. This would store his all-purpose mithril armor. Other tools and pieces of gear would be hidden using similar tricks, each stored in a different item to minimize risk.

A soft light began to pulse throughout the armory as the suits of armor disappeared one by one from their racks. Only once they were all safely stored did he turn away and head toward the elevator. He stepped outside and walked toward his house, where his wife was already waiting. He wasn’t planning to wear one of his more powerful armors to the meeting, but that didn’t mean he would go completely unprotected. The High Knight Commander was still known for runic equipment, so it would be suspicious if he came wearing nothing at all.

‘This takes me back.’

He stood in the living room, clad in armor that resembled his old tier two runic set. It lacked the imposing presence of his more advanced suits, but it carried a sense of familiarity. Elodia looked at him with a small, wistful smile. She stepped closer and let her fingers trace the silvery clasp on his shoulder, her touch lingering on the familiar weight of the cape. The fabric shimmered softly in the morning light, catching the glow alongside the metallic wristbands and chestplate.

"The red goes well with the rest of it. You’ve become quite the gallant knight."

Her words awoke a memory. He recalled the day she used her sewing kit to attach his first real knightly cape. It had been the first time he stood before others as a proper Knight Commander. Since then, he had come far, rising to a position far greater than that.

"I’m sure you’re tired of hearing this."

She said, adjusting the cape with care.

"But please be careful. Come back in one piece."

When she finished, she stepped in for a slow embrace. He returned the hug and opened his mouth to offer a few comforting words, but a series of sharp howls outside interrupted the moment. Agni pushed his wolven snout through the window, and his movement caused the building to shake.

"It looks like Agni might be more worried about me leaving than you are."

Elodia chuckled as she watched the red wolf trying to squeeze through the window. The wooden wall holding the frame began to buckle under the pressure, and it was only when Roland jumped in to push against him that the sound of splintering wood finally stopped. Agni let out a whine, clearly unhappy about being left behind. Roland grunted as he braced himself against the frame, his boots digging into the polished floor.

"Stop it, Agni. They wouldn't allow you inside Isgard. You would just end up spending the night in the horse stables or locked in a cage."

"Awoo!"

Roland managed to push him back, but even he struggled against the power of his sunlight wolf. Without his proper runic equipment to assist him, Agni's larger body strength became even more apparent. Elodia, meanwhile, continued to laugh at the scene unfolding before her.

"Is this because I didn’t take you into the dungeon?"

"Woof?"

As soon as Roland mentioned his recent dungeon expedition, Agni jumped back and started barking at him loudly. Roland grew concerned that his companion might give away his position or fall victim to the spores. While Agni was a powerful ally, he lacked the ability to stay quiet or calm in tense situations. Even now, he was frightening the shopkeepers and alarming the guards stationed outside with his howling.

"Okay, stop. I promise that once I’m back, I’ll take you to the dungeon."

His eyes narrowed as if testing whether Roland was serious. After a long pause and one final low growl, Agni backed away from the window, his enormous tail swinging like a crimson propeller. Roland sighed and shook his head, brushing wood splinters off his shoulder. Elodia was still smiling, her amusement barely contained as she handed him a leather-bound satchel.

"Here. Documents, all the permits, the invitation, and your lunch."

"You packed lunch for a High Knight Commander?"

He raised an eyebrow as he peeked into the satchel, finding some neatly assembled sandwiches along with a few other items.

"No. I packed lunch for my husband, who is always too busy to eat."

He gave her a soft, appreciative look before tucking the satchel beneath his arm.

"Thanks."

"Just try not to kidnap any noble ladies again."

"... I’ll try."

He chuckled, then leaned down to place a kiss on her forehead. With one last glance at Agni, who was now lying outside, he stepped back into his workshop to retrieve the newly finished heavy rapiers. With them in hand, he made his way through the underground tunnels toward Arthur’s estate, where his entourage was already waiting. It was time to enter the belly of the beast, and he could only hope he had made enough preparations for what lay ahead.