The Runic Alchemist

The chains strained with noises as if they were about to snap at any moment, but they stopped just before breaking. Not because the beastman couldn't break free, but because it seemed like he chose not to. His dark abyssal eyes, set against his white mane, scanned his surroundings, as if surprised to find himself in a new place.

Damian sensed the queen and Vidalia taking out tools that emanated massive mana signatures, but when they saw the beastman stop, they too paused. It must have been some sort of last-resort runic tool. It seemed Vidalia had learned a lesson from all the previous surprises and had prepared tools of her own.

"Elves..?" The deep, gurgling, haunting voice came from the man once known as Kazak.

Then the beastman made terrifying, haunting noises, as if discovering his own vocal organs for the first time.

"What place…?" Turning his head, he saw the giant glowing tree. "Ahh… the elves' nest…"

After closing his eyes for some seconds as if remembering all that had taken place, the beastman opened his eyes. Looking back at the gathered crowd, the haunting figure broke into a mad frenzy of laughter.

"Hahahahaha… Haughty elves deciding the fate of my descendant? What a joke…" The beastman moved slightly, rising higher, now in the direct line of sight of the thousands of people gathered, all dead silent. "Your last great beast guardian descendant is being hanged, and you… Have you all gathered to behold the spectacle? Where is your shame, my kin of the wild…?"

Damian saw many of the beastmen in the crowd lower their heads in sorrow, even some of the beastmen nobles and soldiers. He also noticed the elves beside him, too shocked to take their eyes off the beastman for even a second.

"Hear me, my descendants, for my voice carries the fury of ages past! Look at what they have done to us—our pride trampled, our claws dulled, our legacy reduced to whispers and shadows. Do you feel it? That anger burning in your chest, clawing at your soul? Do not smother it. Feed it. Let it consume you."

Damian cursed under his breath. This could not end well.

Vidalia and the other third-rank elf, both understanding the scale of the potential disaster, started chanting a spell and powering an aura-filled sword attack that far surpassed any advanced spells Damian knew. Vidalia immediately summoned her fiery birds and thousands of vines, throwing everything at the beastman. The spellsword also coated her body in aura, summoning a strange, green-glowing warrior woman resembling Royce's weird spell.

The vines shot out quickly, trying to restrain the massive purple tiger filled with dark energy. The fiery birds, producing flames twenty times stronger than Damian's pillar of fire, unleashed their attack from either side. Meanwhile, the massive warrior lady with a dangerous-looking sword jumped from the platform to hack at the beastman and the tiger. And yet…

All was absorbed by the giant beast as if its ethereal skin were a black hole itself, and it didn't even flinch at the attacks. It just continued…

"You are the heirs of a proud lineage, forged in the crucible of the untamed world, and tempered by trials no other race could endure. Once, we roamed as kings and queens beneath the endless skies, our voices rising as one in songs of triumph. The lands trembled beneath our might, and our unity was our strength. Even the Valiant Sun-King feared our might and had to bow before us.. But look at us now—scattered, broken, hiding behind chains of fear and silence. Our pride has been taken, our strength forgotten." Find adventures at empire

"But I, Drazhan Kaelvar Thalaras, Herald of the Scorching Tempest, tell you this: pride cannot be stolen—it can only be surrendered."

Suddenly, Damian felt as if he would be crushed under the weight of a mountain. The aura from the two third-rankers, the queen, and Vidalia surged in full force, their faces filled with disbelief—and fear? The thunderstruck expressions of the two elves were barely visible to others as most of them began falling unconscious one by one. The combined aura of the two third-rankers was simply too much for the family of lesser elves to bear.

Damian immediately coated himself in mana, but he could still feel a slight pressure. If it continued, the others could suffer serious brain injuries. This was something he'd never tried before, and with his limited mana, he could only sustain it for barely a few minutes. But Damian gritted his teeth and extended his mana thread, forming an irregular-shaped cloud of mana to cover the three people nearest to him: Sam, Einar, and the princess. Since the princess was in the middle, it was inevitable.

He provided them shielding from the aura pressure. They were on the verge of stumbling and falling flat on the floor, but lifting the pressure allowed them a much-needed breath of air. Damian had stretched his mana control to the absolute limit, expending so much energy from his body and maintaining it in a fixed shape. It was excruciating, but slightly better than being crushed by the monstrous aura.

Vidalia, noticing what was happening, immediately pulled back her aura and tapped the queen on the shoulder. The queen, her face twisted into the most ferocious, vengeful expression, stood motionless. For a moment, it was hard to say which of the two looked more monstrous—the ancient soul returned in someone else's flesh, or the queen of elves.

The queen, diminishing her aura, took out a box made of some unknown metal, filled with thousands of micro runes, all glowing dark, ominous purple, matching the great tiger in front of them. Damian released the mana barrier, his mana dipping below 30% in less than 30 seconds from the full 100.

Before anyone could ask what was going on, a giant purple runic circle appeared in Damian's vision, its center being near the strange metal box. The hell kind of element was fucking dark purple..? The shock aside, the runic circle made Damian's head ache as his eyes and mouth began to bleed. Yet, not for a second did he take his eyes off the magnificent scene before him.

The runes—there were hundreds of them—formed a circle inside another circle, and that too surrounded by another circle, all filled with glowing runes, alphabets and numbers that moved left and right. The queen poured her mana into the box and began chanting at a deafening speed. Seven runic circles of spells? Which monster had created shit this?

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