(Second Book Complete!) Runeblade: A Delving & Skill Merging LitRPG

Nox watched the mechanical monstrosity peel away from the caravan, its pointed metal legs sinking into the earth with every step it made. Just like every other person in the caravan, she waved after their departure, though inwardly she choked down her swell of relief.

They were just delvers — thank the bloody gods.

One whiff of their unnaturally dense Silver auras, and Nox had been utterly convinced that her cover had been blown. She’d already seen a few birds flying over the woods with just a little too much regularity. Never the same bird twice, but that hardly mattered — the dossier on Julian Flowers' men had been damn clear that the noble’s pet beastmaster used them to scout.

Running into a Silver death squad within the day, afterwards?

A chill shot down her spine. Rather than shudder, she leaned over the railing atop her caravan and whistled, jostling her neighbour at the same time.

It was fine. The squad must have been sent to clear Aslo’s Pass — they were heading right for it.

A boon, in all honesty. It would make her return all the easier, if she chose to return this way, that is.

Just a few more weeks, then she could get rid of these damn books. The first leg would be safe as rain: ride the caravan all the way to Sidora, then cut straight for Vainblood. As long as she didn’t blow her cover, she’d be fine — beasts were easier to slip than lordsmen.

As the landyacht faded into the distance, the general hubbub died down. Nox went back to her spot on one rear corner, and kept scanning her surroundings for threats.

Nothing said she couldn’t look for birds while she did her job — they were practically the same thing.

….

Spires of rock punched out of the rolling meadows, jagged and broken. It was hard to say if they were small mountains, or a truly gargantuan rock formation. Regardless, while they were only a little taller than a large hill, their edges were steep and treacherous — a natural wall that split the duchy for hundreds of leagues, and cut off Tennereth and Sidora from each other.

Kaius stood on the top deck, his hand on his pommel while he stared at the jagged monoliths. The stone was semi-crystalline, breaking into fine edges that could cut an unenhanced man’s skin. They were also an eggshell blue, and glittered faintly in the dawn's light.

It was rather pretty, if he was honest with himself.

Regardless, their destination was clear. An open pass through the natural wall, maybe a hundred strides wide, it looked like some titanic axeman had cleaved the wall in two.

It had taken them half a week to reach this point since their day spent with the Hiwiann caravan. And what a day it had been. After their initial meeting with Ban, the caravan master that Kenva had known from her youth, they’d mingled amongst the rest of the caravan.

Ban wasn’t the only one who’d recognised Kenva — though judging by her polite awkwardness, not all were familiar to her. Kaius got the feeling that it was more about her mother, it was all they talked about. Luiriel cast a wide shadow — as expected of a Gold — but at the very least Kenva seemed used to it.

Besides, it wouldn’t be long before Luiriel was living in her daughter's shadow. Gold was just another step — one Kaius intended to leave long behind. Already, news of their valour was starting to spread. Ban had scarcely believed that they were part of the group who’d defended Deadacre.

But that was no great surprise. Acclaim stuck better with a goldname, the stories just sounded better.

When they’d left, Kenva had given Ban a letter — one to bring back to their highland home, when he next passed through. The caravanmaster had promised it wasn’t far off — only six months or so. It didn’t sound soon, but the man was worming his way through the Duchy of Flowers and the western edge of Franlen.

The creak of the steps leading to below deck pulled Kaius’s eyes away from the distant rock formation. A shock of red hair came into view.

“Hey,” Kenva said, joining him. “Came to take a look at what we’re dealing with.”

Kaius waved towards the distant pass. “Be my guest.”

It would still take a good hour before they were close enough to properly scout out their battleground, but it was a nice view nonetheless.

It didn’t take long for the rest of their team to join them — Ianmus and Porkchop spreading out across the deck as they enjoyed the sun, and the crispness of the wild breeze — untainted by city detritus or an over-preponderance of fresh flowers.

The pass grew close, as did a new road snaking out of it towards Tennereth to their north.

“Plenty of places for things to hide,” Kaius murmured.

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The walls were steep, but crudely layered and stacked stone spires had left them filled with shadowed ledges and small caves — ones perfect for some monstrosity to claim as a den.

“I’m more worried about that,” Kenva replied, pointing to where a stone pylon had fallen from the top of the ravine, and wedged itself to become a bridge about two thirds of the way through the pass. “If these creatures are living up the top, they might have the wit to collapse the thing on us.”

“We wouldn’t want to punch that deep, anyway,” Porkchop pointed out. “The ravine is narrow enough that we can use it to funnel the enemy towards us. If we hold the mouth, you and Ianmus could use the Pegleg as high ground since we won't need to worry about getting flanked.”

“How will we do that? Surely if these beasts are Silver they won’t just charge right for us,” Ianmus asked.

“They will if they’ve made this their home. If I challenge them openly, especially with my Dominance of Claw, they won’t be able to help themselves. Besides, it’s a solid piece of stone as thick as a house. Far more likely that they’ll just use it to spring an ambush, and jump down on us from above.”

Surprisingly, it was a pretty good plan. At least, he didn’t see any problems with it — Porkchop understood the dispositions of common beasts far better than any of the rest of them, and he did have a potent Heroic taunt skill.

“We’ll try that first, and be ready for a surprise attack if it doesn’t work,” Kaius said. “Regardless, we’ve already decided that we can’t spend days hunting these things down — at least not until we’ve rescued Kanmost — so let's just finish this quickly. If they haven't attacked by the time we pass through, we leave it for the return trip. If they do, Porkchop’s our anchor, but let's open heavy. If Ianmus opens with Sanctified Lilyfield to slow them, and I drop a Starfall on top, we might be able to end this threat in one fell swoop.”

“Sounds good to me — I’ll channel Howl of the Northwind from the get go,” Kenva added. “Worst comes to worst, I waste a little resources — but if they come, they’ll regret it.”

Kaius nodded, and the Pegleg kept walking. He stared at the sheer ravine of glittering blue, a smile growing on his face as a heat started to build within him. Almost unconsciously, he tightened his grip on A Father’s Gift.

He hoped there was something living here — that it was dangerous too. Their time in Baanswell had been a frustrating endeavour of far too many people and far too complicated politics. The only fight they’d found had been a poor excuse of one.

Hells, the last real battle had been their clash with the Tyrant, and that had been months ago! Too damn long by half.

He needed to break something, and be broken in turn. He needed to grow — had etched that fact into his very soul with his Aspects.

Whatever lived here, slaughtering caravans and choking up trade? It better be a tough bastard to put down. Any more scut work and he’d go mad.

The Pegleg clanked as it stepped onto the road that stretched through the pass. Even a few hundred longstrides from the mouth, the grass surrounding them was littered with chunks of rock and patches of strewn gravel. Bit by bit, it choked out the life from their surroundings, until only the hardiest shrubs clinking on to life in the cracks remained.

At the mouth, Kaius willed the Pegleg to halt. He met his brother’s eyes — finding them filled with a fire that matched his own.

“Ready?”

“Let’s crack some skulls.”

He nodded at Kenva and Ianmus. Both were ready for war, an arrow nocked in Kenva’s bow, and a full complement of three keyseals burning in concentric circles atop Ianmus’s staff. The magic guzzled at the surrounding mana, drawing it deep as the power Ianmus invested in his seals transmuted the energy into waiting potential.

Kaius leapt from the Pegleg’s top deck, and landed on the road with a clank. He drew his blade.

The earth thudded as Porkchop landed next to him.

They advanced in lockstep. Kaius scanned his surroundings, leaping from shadowy crevice, to jutting outcropping on the walls. The glitter of the light-blue stone was distracting, but not enough to dissuade him — he still found nothing.

Once they’d made it a fair distance from the Pegleg, Porkchop reared up on his hind legs. Searing energy burned through his body, building in his lungs and throat as he drew in a great, heaving lungful of the cold autumn air.

He roared.

The Dominance of Claw boomed through the pass, bouncing from wall to wall in an unending chorus of fury and might. It was a kick to the chest, and a claw on the throat — the naked confidence of one who had been born the best, and never known defeat. It was violent, and it was savage, and it coursed through Kaius’s blood — plastering a manic grin across his face as a tingling rush flooded his limbs.

It said: you are not, and will never be enough. It said: come.

As the last pounding notes of Porkchop’s Skill rang loud through the pass, the very wind stilled. Then, silence, as every cricket and crow for a league cowered in the face of his cry.

Kaius’s heart thudded once, then twice — his soul yearning for a response. A call to battle, or a roar of furious retaliation.

His wish came ten breaths later. Five roars, the noise blurring together as it bounced from stone to stone. Heavy clawed paws, pounding against the jagged ridge line, as claws clawed and skittered. A snarl, a hiss, and a dozen snapping jaws. All heard, but not yet seen.

Until the first one leapt from the edge of the cliff above, plunging into the ravine below. Another came from their right, then two more, before a final one came from their left like the first one had. They grouped up in the middle of the ravine, two hundred longstrides away — vicious and cruel.

A pack.

Each one was hulking. A scaled monstrosity as large as Porkchop, with the twisted face of a bulldog that was stretched further by oversized, jutting fangs. Their tails were as thick as Kaius was, and barbed, and each of their paws held sickle-shaped claws as long as his arm. They were all on the upper edge of Mid Silver.

Kaius stared at them, frowning — he’d hoped for something tougher.

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