The Runesmith

Chapter 657: Rune Knights.

“The rune knights will punish you!”

A woman dressed in simple commoner garb shouted at a man while standing defiantly in front of a group of women and children. Her eyes were fixed on an obvious bandit, his grin wide as he spoke.

“What’s that? Punish me? You think you’re worth something?”

He moved closer and grabbed her by the ponytail. His breath stank of alcohol and tobacco.

“Why do you think I’m here? Because a lord allowed me to be. Now shut up. It’s not my fault you were born weak.”

The man threw the woman into the small group of people huddled in the corner. The place they found themselves in was damp and dark. It was not even a proper dungeon with stone walls. Instead, it was a cave with iron bars keeping them from fleeing.

“You’ll see. Things have changed…”

Though the woman had been beaten, the light in her eyes did not fade. The bandit who had thrown her began to frown, unsettled by the strange resolve she showed.

“What’s wrong with these bastards?”

He stepped outside, slamming the iron door shut, and glanced at the other cells. More people were crammed inside. They had not been there long, yet something felt off to him.

“They usually don’t behave like this. Could what they are saying be true?”

He turned to another bandit who stood nearby, scratching his oversized belly and yawning.

“They are probably just crazy. Don’t listen to them. No one is coming to save a bunch of useless farmers. The nobles do not care about them when they can sell a few monster parts for food.”

“Hah. You’re probably right.”

“And even if someone comes, as long as we have that man with us, everything will be fine.”

“Yeah. There is no way that man is losing to some backwater knights and guards. We are lucky we got this job.”

“Beats working in the mines.”

The two men started laughing as they looked at the prisoners in the cells. For some reason, they all seemed almost cheerful. They were different from the people the bandits had kidnapped in other regions. Usually, this was the time when captives begged the most. Instead, these prisoners kept shouting about rune knights who would come to avenge them.

“Wait… isn’t that?”

As they were about to sit back at the table where they had just been eating and drinking while keeping watch over the prisoners, they heard it. A loud bell, the one their allies were meant to ring if their hidden encampment came under attack.

“Hah, you see? I told you!”

The same woman stepped closer to the bars and pointed at the two men as they began to panic. They glanced at each other, their faces paling slightly, though fear had not fully set in. Their camp was large. They had plenty of bandits and warriors, more than enough to fight off a group of adventurers, which was what they assumed this was.

“Shut your mouth, bitch!”

One of the men shouted as both grabbed weapons from the wall. They were not shoddy at all, surprisingly well-made for people who were supposed to be mere bandits. ȑαƝ∅ΒĘ𝓢

“Just wait until we get back. I am going to have some fun with you when I come back.”

After threatening the woman, the two ran out. They joined the other bandits, who were clad in high-quality gear, deep steel armor, and in some cases even dwarven enchanted weapons and shields. They were outfitted like proper soldiers backed by a noble or a wealthy merchant. However, once they reached the end of the corridor, their laughter quickly died.

The hidden encampment had been carved into the side of a small mountain, concealed behind trees and a magically hidden gate. It was not something that should have been easily discovered or breached. Magical lamps lit the interior, and a full barracks stood stocked with arrows and replacement weapons. This was not a simple bandit camp but an organized movement that had existed even before the city’s ruler was replaced. It had survived for years without being uncovered, so when the bandits saw their gate buckling under immense pressure, the sight was shocking.

“What is happening? How did they find us? Did someone betray us?”

The question had barely left the bandit’s lips when a thunderous crack split the air. It did not come from the ceiling but from the reinforced gate. The illusion clearly failed as the entrance shattered beneath a colossal pillar of ice. It was massive, larger than a battering ram, and it grew even bigger as it forced its way through the gate. Moments later, the ice burst apart, dissolving into a storm of snow.

“W-what?”

Through the uneven opening, armored soldiers poured in. Each was heavily armed, their enchanted weapons making the bandits’ own gear look like rusted iron. The moment steel met steel, the difference was obvious. Runes shone with blinding light as the bandits’ enchanted weapons buckled and cracked under the overwhelming surge of magic.

“Do not panic. We still have the ballistae. Fire!”

Not all was lost. Inside their headquarters, they still had siege weapons positioned and aimed at the lone entrance. Their allies had already mounted them and were ready to fire.

However, when one of the massive bolts launched forward, it struck a shimmering shield of light and shattered.

“M… Mage!”

One of the bandits shouted as they tried to break through the barrier blocking their attack. Then they saw the figure clearly. A person clad in a blend of robes, armor, and runic enchantments stood before them. Their garments shone brightly as colorful runes shifted across the fabric. Their arms were raised wide, and they were chanting under their breath. Even though the ballistae continued to fire, the bolts could not pierce the magical shield. Worse still, their enemies had their own ranged weapons.

A line of crossbowmen stepped forward, carrying ordinary crossbows loaded with strange bolts. The shafts were wooden, but strips of parchment covered in runic script were wrapped around them. The bandits understood the moment the first explosion struck.

“T-those bolts have magic scrolls on them! Take cover!”

One of the ballista crews vanished in a roar of fire and splintered wood. The enchanted bolt they had just loaded detonated in their faces, bursting into multiple smaller projectiles that exploded in rapid succession. The shockwave rolled through the cavern, extinguishing half the magical lamps and plunging the encampment into shadow. Screams soon followed as the battle unfolded.

“Fall back! Form up around the leader!”

The bandits scrambled as their earlier bravado dissolved. They had fought militias, merchant guards, and even high-ranked adventurers, but this was different. These soldiers advanced in tight formation. Their shields overlapped with accuracy. Every strike left a lingering trail of mana, reinforced by magic and supported by a mage who appeared to be tier three. With so much stacked against them, only one person could turn the tide: their leader.

“Do I have to do everything myself?”

The man was large, gripping a pair of axes forged from enchanted metal that glowed with red aura. When the bandits saw him, they cheered. He was an aura user, a warrior nearing level two hundred with a rare class that was not easily defeated. To strengthen their chances, several others of similar rank moved in beside him. Their strongest force had arrived, and confidence surged through the ranks.

“So, you’re the little piggy trying to ruin my fun? Are you a woman?”

Without hesitation, the bandit leader strode forward. The explosive bolts hurled toward him were swatted aside by his aura covered axes. He looked powerful and utterly confident as he approached the armored soldiers and the woman mage who seemed to command them.

“Put down your weapons and surrender. If you do, your lives will be spared.”

The mage’s voice echoed through the hidden camp, backed by magic. The fighting stopped for a moment, but instead of yielding, the bandit leader threw back his head and laughed.

“That voice? So you’re not some old crow. You sound like a beauty. I have decided. You will be my next plaything!”

After licking his lips, the man grasped both axes and summoned his aura. He cleaved the air, and a surge of crimson energy shot forward to collide with the magical shield. While his previous attacks had failed to break through, this aura strike did not. A gash resembling a cross split across the barrier as the energy burst against it.

To the bandits’ surprise, the mage did not move. She stood her ground as if certain nothing would happen to her. Then, from behind her, a second figure stepped forward to intercept the attack. The form shone, clad head to toe in silver mithril. It was a knight. In his left hand, he held a kite shield, and in his right a broad longsword, wider than usual and likely heavy.

He raised his shield, and the runes etched into its surface shone brightly. The crimson aura struck it. The bandit leader expected his attack to cleave through, or at least force the knight back, but nothing of the sort happened. Instead, the energy wavered and grew weaker, as if the shield itself were absorbing it.

“I will be your opponent.”

The knight’s voice rang out, deep and heroic. For a moment, the fighting around them slowed as both sides watched the two Tier Three class holders clash, each group confident in its leader.

When they collided, the ground beneath them cracked. The bandit leader’s axes descended in another brutal cross. They slammed into the shield, sending ripples of energy outward and knocking several bandits off their feet.

“I will destroy that flimsy shield and then you. You do not even have a speck of aura!”

Blow after blow followed as the bandit pressed his assault. His goal was simple: shatter the shield with overwhelming aura. He had already realized that his opponent did not possess this power, and without aura, a physical fighter was considered inferior. Even superior equipment, refined swordsmanship, or magic could not contend with aura, or so he believed.

Yet after repeated clashes, the shield did not falter. Instead, fatigue began to creep into his limbs.

“How can this be? What trick is this?”

He felt drained, as though the shield was not merely blocking his strikes but siphoning away the very power behind them.

“One designed to counter aura users.”

Before the bandit could react, the knight surged forward. Throughout the battle, the bandit had noticed the knight’s sword changing. With each strike from his aura-infused axes, the runes along its blade had grown brighter. Now he understood why. But now, it was already too late.

The sword shone brightly. It was not aura, but powerful magic that eclipsed anything the bandit leader could withstand. He retreated quickly, but he was not quick enough. His body was not built for sudden dextrous movements, and soon the sword slashed forward.

For a moment, time seemed to stop for the bandit leader. Then energy erupted around him. A massive arc of force tore through the air, leaving a deep gash in the ground as it surged ahead. He raised both axes to defend himself, crossing them in front of his body where the attack was aimed.

“N-no, I cannot die here… this was not what was promised to me…”

These were the last words he spoke. The energy slash pierced through his weapons and his body. His crimson aura shattered like glass beneath the stronger wave of azure light. For an instant he remained standing, axes lifted in defiance. Then a thin line of silver traced across his chest. His enchanted armor split apart, followed by his weapons, and finally by his body.

The energy wave continued past him, carving a trench through the stone floor and crashing into the far wall of the cavern. Rock ruptured. Dust and shattered stone rained down as part of the ceiling collapsed on the bandits gathered there. When the light finally faded, only silence remained where the towering aura user had once stood.

Their invincible leader, the man who had never lost a duel and had always emerged victorious, was gone. Worse still, it had taken only a single strike to end him. The fight had not even lasted five minutes.

“N-no… Leader?”

Silence followed as the bandits stared at the armored figure standing before them. His blade still pulsed with power, and several runes flickered along its surface.

“R-rune knight…”

One of the bandits whispered as he dropped his weapon. The others soon followed, raising their hands before the rumored rune knight. Many had believed the stories were exaggerated, but now they knew they were wrong. None of them could hope to win, and surrender was their only chance to survive.

The rune knight lowered his blade. The runes dimmed from blinding white to a calm silver glow, faint lines on the runic traces still shifting across the surface as he surveyed the cavern.

“You made the right choice. No more blood needs to be spilled today. Follow my soldiers’ instructions, and none of you will be harmed.”

*****

Robert lowered his sword and watched the bandits obey his command. He glanced at the aura user he had defeated. To these people, he might have seemed like an indomitable foe, a monster encased in armor, yet his heart was pounding harder than ever before. The man before him was not someone he could have handled under normal circumstances. Only because of his new class, along with the special shield and sword, had he been able to win.

His enemy had been slow to realize it, but the shield, designed by his brother Roland, could absorb aura energy to a certain extent and disperse it. The more his opponent attacked, the more energy flowed into his armor and sword. With each strike he endured, his blade began to glow brighter. Once fully charged, it could unleash a devastating blow that even high level aura users could not defend against.

“Sir Durendal.”

Lucille approached from behind and placed a hand on his shoulder. A soothing sensation washed over him at her touch.

“I am fine, Lady Curtana. We should see to the imprisoned farmers and get them home.”

Lucille nodded and continued to calm him with a runic spell woven into her armor. Robert did not fully understand how it worked, but she could now use certain runic spells, some beyond the reach of regular mages, such as the soothing magic she had just cast on him.

“This should deal them a serious blow, but I do not think these were ordinary bandits, Sir Durendal.”

“You are right, Lady Curtana. Someone is backing them. Most likely Theodore Valerian.”

They exchanged nods as they surveyed the underground lair. It had been constructed with considerable wealth and planning. No common bandits could have managed such a feat, and their weapons had all been enchanted. Even so, the equipment Roland had provided was still superior.

“Fortunately, we have the better craftsmen on our side.”

Lucille said as she lifted one of the broken axes.

“That we do. Still, we should take these back with us.”

Robert replied. He picked up the other axe lying nearby and tossed it to one of his retainers. As the de facto leader of Aldbourne, he was responsible for its safety. Since the palace had been entrusted to him, he had not enjoyed a single restful night. Even so, he did not resent the burden. This was what he had always dreamed of: serving the people of the kingdom as an honor-bound knight. He wanted to be the kind of knight people spoke of in whispers of hope rather than fear.

“It is the Rune Knights. Long live the Rune Knights.”

“There they go again, calling us that.”

Lucille chuckled as she watched some of the prisoners being led out by the soldiers. One of the women waved at them with a bright smile on her face.

“I like it. Rune Knight has a nice ring to it.”

It was not only Robert who was being called a Rune Knight. Lucille wore metallic plates over her mage robe, which made her look like a knight as well.

“As long as we are together, I do not care what they call us.”

She whispered to him and tapped his shoulder again.

“Let’s save that talk for after we are out of here, Lady Curtana.”

She nodded. Even though they were both wearing helmets, bright smiles spread across their faces. Soon, they returned to work, as the duties of a Rune Knight did not end so quickly.