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

Julian felt the iron bar of an arm around his throat, and the vicious point of a dagger pricking through his skin. Frustration roiled in him, a quiver rolling through his body as he forced himself to stillness.

He’d been taken hostage. How fucking pathetic.

More importantly, how in the hells was the guildhound still standing? That had been a direct hit with a Dagger of Spiteful Evisceration! The man should have a gaping hole the size of a dinnerplate in his side.

The vessel he stood on, an honest-to-the-gods landyacht, slowed. His men had grouped up, keeping their distance — they’d all been trained on what to do in this situation. Kel removed his helmet first, designating himself as speaker. The rest of his squad did the same. Seeing a man’s face could do much to dampen hostilities. Though, this team was no quaking group of over-inflated gutter slime — but Julian didn’t think they were hardened killers.

Julian met Kel’s eyes — reaching out through their team’s communication net.

“How is this bastard still standing,” he hissed.

“Strong defensive skill — at least Unique. Wound was only fist-sized. I think he might have Lesser Regeneration as well. Hole’s shrinking fast, and it would explain how he shrugged it off.”

Julian paused — that was unexpected. As far as he knew, no Dukedom families made use of the ability, but it was common enough that they’d managed to document its effects. It was viciously potent.

He’d expected Kaius’s team to be uncommonly strong. It was clear that they would have at least a handful of Honours, and only a fool would expect those who’d managed to fully complete their Aspects to lack a legacy.

But what he’d seen during the ambush…

He remembered that whirling vortex, snapping into existence the instant his men on the cliff had fired. Impossible magic, and an impossibly potent danger sense Skill. An unending barrage of arrows, shattering on the heavy-plate of their greater beast. And what an absurdity — an armoured beast! Not bloody barding, either. Genuine heavyplate, as intricate as any dwarven shocktrooper.

Even their back line. More impossible magic, and arrows that hit like ballista bolts, threaded through the smallest gaps in their guard.

He felt the mess of blood and muck in his hair. The garbled voice, utterly unconcerned with having a chest full of minced meat.

They’d miscalculated — and now everything had gone to the hells. Again. If father ever found out, it would be his head.

Julian let out a heavy breath, unclenching his jaw. It had happened. A man of his station moved with the change of seasons, now it was just a matter of negotiating.

“Call off your archers,” Kaius hissed, voice strong and clear despite the wound he had only just taken.

Kel looked at Julian. He nodded back.

A raised hand was enough for the men on the cliff to slowly creep out from behind their cover, their weapons vanishing into their rings. Julian sighed, and felt the guildhound behind him tense — but the dagger at his neck was rock solid, not so much as digging a hair deeper.

The man was cautious — why? What sort of fool would try to steal from him without being prepared to deal with the consequences? Regardless, if they had the sense to fear retribution, he could use that.

“Kill me, and my Father will burn your world to the ground.”

….

Kaius blinked, not trusting his ears. How in the hells did Flowers have the gall to threaten them? Rotten roots, he had a bloody knife to the man's head!

Behind him, Ianmus and Kenva slid out from underneath Porkchop — though they still kept his bulk on their left, between them and the archers on the far cliff. Neither lowered their weapons, and the keyseals atop Ianmus’s staff still drank hungrily from the air. At the very least, if things went to shit, they’d have given him enough time to ready his second tier spells again.

Porkchop growled, the basso note making a few of Flowers’ retainers flinch.

“Are you a fool, man-thing? If we wanted you dead, you already would be — or do you think your charge would have held when it met my own?” Porkchop projected to everyone gathered.

One of Flowers’ team members sneered atop his mount, trailing a short distance behind their landyacht — Baron Rosenhall, if Kaius remembered correctly. Kaius didn’t miss the way that Flowers stiffened slightly, nor the quick look that Frostbloom, his second, shot the man.

“So it’s about ransom, then? We foil your play at the Wellspring, and you pivot to another quick sack of Platinum — anything for a profit, just like a proper delver?” Rosenhall said.

Gods’ scorn, what in the hells was the man talking about? How could they still think that they were trying to undercut them? It should have been enough that they openly mentioned looking for Kanmost over dinner — a ploy that would have been utterly moronic if they were trying something shady. Even then, they’d left them a bloody missive!

“Are you insane?!” Kaius spat, doing his best not to throttle the noble. “How stupid do you think we are — we already told you what we’re after. Kanmost. We don’t give a rat’s arse about your Wellspring.”

Well, he hadn’t. At this point, he was of the mind to make use of the place just to spite the bastards. Why did they even care? It wasn’t like the four of them could seize control of a fixed location against the forces of an entire duchy — was it just pride?

Frostbloom shifted in his saddle as his mount shook its head and snorted — damn things were probably picking up on the tension. The lord looked him in the eye, just as calm as when they’d first met.

“That seems a little hard to believe, considering everything that led to your interception here.”

Kaius’s teeth ground together, his pulse throbbing in his neck. “Galiead played the lot of you off as honourable — more the fool that I am, I almost believed him. At every turn, we have told you we are looking for the Archivist! Vipers, the lot of you. Too busy scheming to accept a helping hand offered freely.”

Julian stiffened in his grip. “You think us fools? Such naked deception, even now?”

Behind him, Kaius heard a crack as Ianmus slammed his staff on the deck of the Pegleg, the light of his keyseals flaring just a little brighter.

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“Is your brain made of granite? It’s like we’re talking to a keep wall!” he said, stalking forwards until he was in view. Flowers’ men bristled atop their mounts, but the mage merely snapped his fingers in Flowers’ face. Kaius kept his eye on the archers on the cliff, ready to shove Ianmus aside if they took a shot.

“Kaius took you captive just like that. He could have killed you just as easily — what need do we have of trickery? Are you so incensed at our disregard of the status of provincial nobility that you are driven to the verge of murder?!”

Flowers did not like being called provincial — Kaius could feel the man’s pulse spike. Hells, that baron looked like he was trying to kill Ianmus with his glare alone. Even the normally even-keeled Frostbloom frowned.

“You hit the house, mere days after presenting us with some of the flimsiest and most suspicious cover imaginable,” Frostbloom said, unimpressed. “The evidence was everywhere. Then, almost immediately, you vanish out of the city on thin pretences. You, somehow, expect us to trust you — powerful delvers of unknown allegiance, who have immediately moved against us within hours of entering Baanswell.”

“Are you insane? We already told you — Ianmus considers Kanmost a friend. That would be enough, even if we didn’t want the man’s help with a personal research project.”

Flowers scoffed, the sound hacking from the pressure of Kaius’s arm on his throat.

“A paper-thin plot.”

“We left you a letter, asshole? Why would we get Guilewind to send you the details of our route, and what we had learned about Kanmost’s location, if we were lying? Did you even think before you used it to ambush us, or were you just too self-righteous to care?” Kaius hissed.

Flowers stiffened in his grip, and Kaius saw a brief flare of shock in Frostbloom’s widening eyes.

No — surely not! They had to have gotten it.

One of Flowers’ other team members sneered. He’d been the one with the crossbow — Steelroot, he thought?

“A mighty convenience, this letter we have seen no trace of.”

“Can we just kill them a little bit? Maybe two or three?” Porkchop grumbled, his claws flexing in frustration.

Kaius really wanted to. He was this close to slamming his dagger home and being done with it. Unfortunately, as satisfying as it would be to leave the nobles buried in a shallow grave, it served nothing, and would only leave enemies at their back. Plus, being an enemy of the state would be…bad. The Dukedoms had awfully deep pockets, and a large enough bounty could tempt even a third tier — to say nothing of the hidden monsters that the Duke might have in his employ.

“What reason do we have to lie, idiot?” Kaius hissed. “Besides, it is a verifiable truth — Guilewind was to send the letter to your estate shortly after our departure. Your staff will be able to confirm that much, at least. We overheard the rogues discussing bringing the journals to an Onyx operative who goes by Brokenlight at the edge of the Midnight Crater.”

“And the journals themselves?” Flowers asked, his scowl audible.

“We missed the handover — they’re still enroute. We did manage to nab the oldest one from the house. Vainblood was inside of Kanmost’s initial findings, so we figured they were camping near the Wellspring. Which also means that without us, you would have already lost!”

Summoning the journal to hand, Kaius tossed it at Frostbloom’s chest with a flick of his wrist — careful not to take his arm from Flower’s neck. It was useless to them, anyway — it was worth it if it kept this shit show from deteriorating further.

“How in the hells do you not know where the Wellspring is anyway? Did Kanmost not share?”

Flowers stilled. “He never managed to narrow it down further. Either he was taken right after a breakthrough, or…”

Or the man had been falsifying his reports. Kaius doubted it — from everything he had heard, the man was obsessed with his work. Why jeopardise his role at Aanthrast for a single ploy?

Frostbloom drummed his fingers against the journal, looking at Kaius inquisitively. “Say we believe you — that mere coincidence has set us against each other… Why go through all this effort for a simple Archivist?”

“We already told you! Multiple times!” Kenva yelled, staring at them in disbelief.

Baron Rosenhall sneered, again. Kaius was really getting sick of the man, he seemed determined to drive a wedge in their discussions at every turn.

“That is a paper thin lie, one we spotted immediately. The Ianmus that was supposed to work alongside Kanmost only got his class a few years ago — do you think us blind fools?”

Kaius froze, realisation striking with the fury of a storm. They didn’t know. They thought them talented, saw evidence of their power, and had heard a few rumours — but they were still working off the old rules. Still looked through the window of how the world used to be, instead of what it really was.

They’d thought them liars from the very beginning, and he’d never even given it a thought how outlandish their progress might have looked from the outside.

He laughed. He couldn’t help it — it was too ridiculous. All this madness because of noble ego.

The nobles shifted in their saddles, not expecting his reaction. They must have thought they’d caught them red-handed — a moment of grand reveal that would force them to uncover their true motives.

They knew his team was strong — but they had no context. Didn’t understand the wealth of their advantages. Hells, they probably still thought their numbers would be enough — that maybe they’d lose a few retainers, but surely that they’d win. Puffed up on their status, and whatever meager Honours they themselves had gathered.

Kaius gave the baron a unrestrained grin. “Tell me, Rosenhall, were you too stupid to verify our identities with the Guild or the local Spire — or is your ego just so large that you cannot suffer someone being better than you?”

“What?” Frostbloom asked, frowning slightly.

“It took the four of us a year to reach Silver, gathering Honours by the fistful. Ianmus did only get his class a short while ago — none of us have even seen our twenty-third year!”

Kaius flared his Authority, enveloping every mounted lord in its reach. He wasn’t like the Tyrant. He couldn’t use it to suppress and physically brow-beat those within — but he could do something. Every scrap of might that he had bled and killed for, every Honour, every Aspect, and every Skill; the totality of his strength, distilled until the nobles could feel what he was capable of.

They went pale to the last, rocking back in their saddles. Flowers just gasped, freezing. That close to the epicentre of Kaius’s authority, he bore far more of its weight.

Shifting his dagger, he tapped the flat of the blade against Flowers’ cheek. “If you think this is some last ditch effort to save our hides — that we fear your numbers — then you are sorely mistaken.”

Two of the retainers flinched, reaching for their blades.

“Stop!” Kaius demanded, locking eyes with the two of them. “For the last fucking time, we don’t want to fight you. We just want to find Kanmost — and the rest of his journals are already enroute to Brokenlight’s camp, which might just mean the end of his usefulness. So, would you prefer to die here, or do you want the Wellspring?”

Frostbloom clenched his jaw for a moment. “You propose an alliance?”

Kaius snorted — as if he would trust these bastards. Even without the current mess, they’d proven themselves capricious and short sighted long ago.

“I’d settle for an agreement of non-aggression. The fact remains: Vainblood is large, and we don’t know the exact location of the camp. Two teams could cover more ground — and make it more likely we find Brokenlight before he opens the Wellspring and starts tidying up loose ends.”

The nobles fell silent, sharing long looks. Kaius forced himself to be patient.

“Five weeks,” Flowers suddenly said.

“What?”

“We have five weeks. Kanmost was certain that the Wellspring could only be opened in the first week of winter. His reports said the ritual requirements were dense, and he was certain that there was more to it than a simple barrier. It will be why this man needed the journals — they’re full of Kanmost’s calculations.”

Well, wasn’t that just great. He certainly loved a hard deadline. At least it sounded like Flowers had come round to being slightly reasonable.

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