The Runesmith

Chapter 651: Failure Class?

“You’re such a good boy, Amun!”

“Woof?”

“Yes, you are. The greatest boy.”

“Woof!?”

Agni’s tail wagged like a propeller, turning into a deadly weapon for anyone who got too close as they made their way through the adventurer city. After the small conflict, Roland took the blacksmith and his daughter to the guild building to keep an eye on them. He was still worried the man might be targeted, but now there was another concern. His daughter seemed utterly enamored with his wolf.

“Please be careful. Some of those crystals are quite sharp.”

“Don’t worry, Mr. Siegfried. I’ll be care… ack.”

Right on cue, Millie pricked her finger on Agni’s gems. They jutted out all over his body, and the more levels he gained, the harder they became.

“Millie, behave…”

“Don’t worry, Papa. I just need to figure out where I can pet Amun.”

Ermes shook his head as he saw his daughter stick the injured finger into her mouth while still petting the wolf with her other hand.

“I… I must apologize for my daughter, Mr. Siegfried. You’ve already done so much for me during this trip. I’m not sure how to repay you.”

Ermes said this while bowing his head several times, but Roland did not really mind. He wanted to ask the armorsmith about his daughter’s special class, but this was not the right time. Nor did he wish to explain that he was actually a runesmith in disguise. He was not even sure what he wanted to do with that knowledge, or whether this family wanted his input at all. It was their life, and they were likely hiding their circumstances for a reason, much like he was hiding his own true identity.

‘And that class… I am not sure if she will be able to become a runesmith or even work as one normally. Can a person even become a runesmith without having a mage class?’

As they continued walking and he pondered the name and true nature of her class, he became convinced that most people would consider it a failure. The main reason lay in its non-combat-oriented origins.

‘Her mana reserves as a pure crafting class might not be able to keep up with higher-grade enchantments.’

Roland, who was gifted with a vast mana pool, had never faced this problem. He knew, however, that ordinary runesmiths often struggled with mana deprivation. Creating higher-grade runes required a significant amount of MP, and after glancing at her current mana pool, Roland could roughly estimate how much she gained with each level. It was nowhere near enough.

He was also uncertain whether she would be able to attain the Enchantsmith or Runesmith classes. For now, she was closer to a mana scribe and could likely produce only basic scrolls. What her future classes might be remained a mystery, and he was not sure whether her limited mana capacity would become her eventual downfall. Still, there were ways to counteract such a defect through certain means, ones that he had.

‘I wonder, could they have come here in search of help after someone deemed her class a failure?’

As they arrived before the guild building, Roland pondered the thought further. It was possible that Millie’s parents had not given up on her when others had. Inside the dungeon, they could earn far more money than above ground. The main reason regular people came to a place like this was simple. Money. Here, they could earn ten times what they normally would in the upper parts of the kingdom. Ṝ𝔞NО𐌱ȧ

“...”

His gaze shifted away from Agni and the one petting him and moved toward the large guild building. The Adventurer Guild dominated the street, standing like a fortress. Three stories high, it was built not only of wood but reinforced with stone. Runes were carved throughout its walls, forming a massive barrier meant to protect those inside.

It was clearly designed as a last bastion in the event that monsters somehow breached the dungeon walls, something that had become possible due to recent irregular movements within the dungeon. Yet, unlike a fortress or a noble’s estate, there were no guards posted outside, only an open door through which anyone could pass.

“Amun, wait over there. I’ll be back soon.”

“Woof!”

“I’ll keep him company then. Just don’t be long, Papa.”

Millie was content to wait outside as long as she could stay with Agni. For a brief moment, it seemed as though she would not part from her father, who had only just returned, but the moment the blue wolf appeared, her attention shifted completely.

“Defeated by a tamed creature…”

Ermes looked slightly baffled by how quickly his daughter’s affection shifted once Agni was involved. Still, holding back a tear, he entered the guild with the others so they could take a headcount and divide the reward money among the remaining adventurers and the porters.

The moment they crossed the threshold, his helmet display lit up with countless signatures. Wards, detection fields, suppression arrays, and emergency barriers were stacked atop one another as if someone had crammed them all together. Whoever designed this place was either a genius or a madman. However, considering there were hundreds of tier three combatants in the city and lesser dragons looming everywhere, this level of defensive magic was necessary.

“Everyone, this shouldn’t take long. Just take a break and I’ll be right back.”

Captain Varek said this as he headed toward the counter with a few others. Despite everything, this was still an adventurer guild, complete with the usual bureaucracy and waiting lines. Like any other, it had a pub section off to the side, with food and drinks ready to be served.

“Siegfried, I also have something to take care of. I’ll join you later.”

Harphon, the hidden guild inspector, spoke quietly to him. It was clear that he likely had contacts here that required his attention. Whether they could be trusted was another matter entirely. Someone had clearly talked about his journey here, otherwise no assassins would have appeared. There was a chance of another attack if the person Harphon contacted was the mole, though it was also possible the information had spread through other means.

As the gnome moved away and Varek disappeared into the crowd, Roland was left with Ermes and the rest of the party. Before he could press for answers about their situation or about Ermes’s daughter, a strange sound echoed from outside. It was like metal striking stone over and over at a steady rhythm. Moments later, someone burst through the doors of the adventurer guild.

“Where is ye!”

Roland turned toward the voice and instantly knew the man had to be connected to Ermes. After a closer look, recognition set in, and he realized exactly who the newcomer was.

The identity of the man was clear. It was Hasim, the Master Runesmith of the fortress. His level was quite high, and he was already on his second tier three crafting class. It was a path Roland had once considered for himself, before a better option presented itself.

‘Is that a peg leg?’

Roland thought to himself as the dwarf spotted him and Ermes. The moment Hasim noticed them, his one good eye flew wide open, and he charged forward.

“There ye be!”

The dwarf moved with a speed that defied his artificial limb. Each step of his metal capped peg leg rang out like a hammer striking an anvil. Hasim was a mountain of a man compressed into a frame barely one hundred forty-five centimeters tall, his beard braided with golden wire and stained with the soot of countless hours at the forge.

"Master Hasim!"

Ermes exclaimed, his voice filled with relief and surprise. Hasim did not slow down until he was mere centimeters from Ermes’s chest. He offered neither a hug nor a handshake. Instead, he swung a calloused, grease-stained hand and delivered a sharp smack to the armorsmith’s shoulder.

“Ye thick-skulled donkey!”

The dwarf’s shout drew the attention of several adventurers nearby. Ermes could not absorb the blow and was sent flying straight toward Roland. Roland stepped aside and, just before Ermes could crash into a column behind him, caught him by the collar of his shirt.

“I thought ye ‘ere dead!”

While the man was rough, it seemed that he had been worried about one of his blacksmiths. For someone of this level, this was almost unheard of. Most craftsmen of this prestige would rarely ever leave their smithy or even care about their workers, thinking it was reward enough to let others work within their workshops. This dwarf seemed different, yet at the same time still had the usual behavioural patterns people of the dwarven culture had.

If ye’d kicked the bucket just ‘cause I was too stubborn to patch up that blasted breastp…”

Hasim roared, his face turning a shade of crimson that rivaled the forge fires he tended. However, before he could finish the sentence, he managed to stop himself from saying too much. Ermes dangled from Roland’s grip, looking like a child being shouted at by a parent.

“Master, please. I can explain.”

Roland was aware of what had truly happened back then, and the dwarf knew it as well. It was a tactic used by adventurers dissatisfied with a runesmith’s services. However, mentioning it inside the adventurers’ guild was likely a bad idea, especially when the main perpetrator might already be present.

“Hasim, my good friend, what brings you here?”

Not far away, another figure emerged. He was a man as large as a mountain, belonging to the Goliath race. At first glance, he reminded Roland of Aurdhan. The main difference was that this man had long, raven colored locks instead of a bald head. He also wore a matching beard, though unlike his hair, it was streaked with salt and pepper.

“Agthak…”

Hasim mumbled as he looked up at the huge man. This was the guild master present here and, in a way, the lord of the stronghold and the man holding the highest position. Roland could instantly see that the Master Runesmith disliked the Guild Master.

With his recent gains, Roland had become more and more proficient at reading people’s statuses without them noticing. He still usually reserved it for non-mage classes, as even a small hint of mana being used could give it away. When it came to people with brutish classes, however, there was no real danger for him.

‘That’s an interesting class distribution.’

Roland had heard of the Ragemaster class. It was one of the better pathways a berserker-type class could take. As the name implied, it allowed berserkers to master their rage, letting them maintain their buffs while retaining full sanity. It removed the greatest drawback of that double-edged path, making it an obvious choice for many who walked that route.

The tension in the air was thick enough to be cut with a knife. Roland remained a silent observer, his eyes shifting between the towering Goliath and the stocky old Dwarf. On paper, Agthak was the pinnacle of physical power in this sector, but Hasim possessed the literal foundation upon which that power was built. Without the runesmith’s gear, most of the adventurers could not operate, and the guild master knew that.

“Why so silent, my friend?”

“Don’t ‘My friend’ me, ye overgrown slab of granite!”

“...”

The large man did not respond, but his gaze settled on Ermes, the blacksmith who should have been dead. To make matters even more obvious, Roland spotted a familiar face standing behind the guild master. It was the second man involved in Ermes’ disappearance. The mana pattern Roland had saved back then matched him perfectly, and the reaction in the tier two blacksmith’s eyes was unmistakable. He instantly averted his gaze when the man looked in their direction.

“What seems to be the problem? Why don’t we talk over some good ale, and you can tell me about the progress on that equipment I gave you?”

“Ye equipment?”

Hasim turned to Ermes and grasped his hand, pulling him close.

“Aye, it’s delayed, I’m afraid… Expect a wait, and a long one at that.”

With those words, he yanked Ermes back and stormed out of the guild. Ermes did not resist, or rather, he could not. His master overpowered him and dragged him outside in haste. Roland remained where he was, taking everything in. It was clear that the guild master was far from pleased with what had just transpired.

“Did you see that?”

“Yeah…”

Several adventurers began to whisper, and it did not go unnoticed by the brute of a guild master.

“What are you all looking at?”

Agthak’s voice rolled through the hall like thunder. Conversations died mid-breath. Tankards froze halfway to waiting lips, and not even a pin drop could be heard as no one dared to answer. The large man turned his gaze back toward the door Hasim had just gone through, and only then did he notice Roland. For a moment, his eyes lingered, but his interest faded quickly, and he turned away, heading back the way he had come.

Only after a few moments had passed and the guild master was gone did the adventurers dare to speak again. It was clear to Roland that Agthak was someone deeply feared here and possibly corrupt. It was a certainty that if Agthak discovered what Roland had been doing in the dungeon, it would not end well.

‘I should probably sit down and wait for Varek before deciding my next move.’

With that decided, Roland turned toward the tavern side of the adventurers’ guild and sat down alone. He did not order anything. Instead, he took out a few homemade sandwiches his wife had prepared for him. They were stashed away safely in one of the spatial runes, waiting for such an occasion.

Normally, he would have been too paranoid to show his face, but with the mask on he could safely take off his helmet to eat and drink. Within a few moments, he devoured several of the homemade sandwiches Elodia had made for him, and to finish it off, he drank some iced tea that he had stashed away. Luckily, there were too many adventurers around to notice him not buying anything. He waited, and after around twenty minutes he heard a distinct sound hit the table.

“Here you go. Your cut.”

A sack of coins landed on the table. Roland took one look at it and immediately knew the amount inside was far greater than it should have been. The mission had been to reach the third layer and protect people until they reached the end. He had done exactly that, but half of their group never arrived, and several had died along the way.

“Looks a bit heavy…”

“I know. Just take it before I change my mind. You’ve earned it.”

“Fine then. I won’t refuse coin.”

Roland did not bother arguing. Having more money for future research was always a good thing. It seemed that because some adventurers were missing their rewards for acting as guards had been redistributed to others like him. Everyone in the group knew his contribution had been the greatest.

“I guess this is goodbye for now, Siegfried, but if you wish to complete any other missions, don’t be a stranger. I could use a man of your caliber on my team.”

“Are you going to hunt some lesser dragons?”

Varek nodded.

“Yes, that’s the plan, but first the others and I need to rest. So how about it? Maybe in two or three days we could meet back here to discuss a few things?”

“… I’ll have to decline for now. I prefer working alone.”

“Are you sure?”

Varek sounded disappointed but did not push the subject.

“Well, if you change your mind, I’ll be staying in the Black Dragon Inn, room number twelve.”

Roland nodded, and after some small talk he bade Captain Varek farewell. At first, he had not been sure what to make of Varek, but he turned out to be a good leader. While Roland did not see himself going on adventures with him, he could imagine the man getting employed by the city of Albrook for various tasks in the future.

‘That kind of wraps things up here for now. Though…’

His thoughts drifted to potential headaches in the future. While he had officially joined the third layer of the dungeon as an adventurer, several paths had opened up before him. One involved Millie and her special class. Another was Agthak, the guild master and his possible future plans which could involve another attack on Ermes. Then there was Hasim a runesmith of considerable knowledge who might help Roland learn new techniques in crafting and golem production. New possibilities emerged as well as new dangers, which he would probably have to tackle soon.