The governor’s manor, it seemed, was far more than just what was visible above ground. While its foundations were built into a slight rise that gave the large stone building a view of the surrounding city, they descended far deeper than that.

  This section of the governor’s compound seemed old. While the stone was the same aged brick, it lacked the veneer of modernity. There were no tapestries or wooden panelling — only foundation sturdy enough that it looked like it might survive a dragon attack.

  Kaius was surprised that they didn’t butt up against the old catacombs that he had descended through on his way to the Imperial ruins. Hells, maybe they did. The stone looked similar enough.

  Yet despite the clear rarity of its use, ahead of him the chamberlain walked with purpose, taking corners and unlocking doors like he had memorised the entire floor plan.

  So good was the man’s knowledge that it had taken them a bare five minutes to get from their secluded balcony overlooking the packed courtyard where the governor had made his speech — cutting through the buildings, servants’ halls, out a back entrance into the governor’s manor, and then finally down.

  Some of that, of course, was their fleet pace. The chamberlain all but jogged. Although Kaius found himself barely having to break a casual stroll to keep up with the man. The benefits of more than a dozen honours and a hundred levels, he supposed.

  “Which formation? What are we working with? And who else will be helping to check on it?” Kaius said. “I am something of a combat specialist, and while my raw abilities are good, I hope that you have others that I may lean on for their technical expertise.”

  The chamberlain didn’t break stride, taking a hard right to cross into another hall lit by only the dim luminance of occasional ward-lights. They were dull things, clearly designed for infrequent maintenance rather than comfort and brightness.

  “As much as I wish to say that we tout some of the grand artifice fortifying the cities of the Dukedoms and Mystral, that is not the case. While the Frents and Deadacre as a whole have never exactly been poor, we are undoubtedly provincial and small. The formation is a simple thing — fortifying the walls, and helping to spread impacts if something attempts to breach them or the gates. I know little more than that. It’s as old as the walls themselves. There is only aged documentation to help.”

  The chamberlain’s voice had a clipped edge to it. Kaius could understand the stress, considering the current circumstances. Fyfen was clearly a man of planning and documentation; organising the defence of a siege and any possible civilian measures to secure the populace must have been working him to the bone.

  “And the other runewrights?” Kaius asked.

  “Three Steels. Masters of their craft — or at least the closest to that you’ll find in a city like this. They are old and proud, but they have all done trusted work for me and the governor before.”

  “They have familiarity with the formation, then?”

  The chamberlain audibly winced.

  “Not directly. The formation has not been serviced in a hundred and fifty years, when Deadacre and Grandbrook were suffering at the hands of the bandit lord Ralton and his constant raids. Even with the current circumstances, our resources have been stretched thin, and nobody seriously considered that the city might be invaded — not like this. We were fools, it seemed.”

  Kaius shook his head. If Fyfen was a fool for not anticipating an invading army of beasts, then they all were. Sure, the strange migration had seemed suspect — but until Dross had brought word, it had seemed outlandish to think that beasts had been enslaved to a malicious will for the purpose of invasion. Hells, they’d first seen the beasts moving away from the city, and when they’d suspected Stangspine, that had seemed like further confirmation that the city was not a target.

  Regardless, if neither he nor the other runewrights were already familiar with the formation, the job was much more difficult.

  Fyfen seemed to anticipate his misgivings. “What documents we have have been provided to the other runewrights, and they seem confident. Apparently its construction is relatively standard for civil work, and they are all familiar with the script.”

  “That’s something at least,” Kaius murmured.

  The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

  Still, over a century without maintenance, things would have decayed. Depending on the scale of the formation, the other runewrights might just need his help after all. Feeling out the mana flows over so much space was taxing. He hoped that, with his help, they would be able to get it done in time.

  Falling back into silence, doors flooded past the two of them, each seemingly identical to the last. Without his keen memory, Kaius was sure he would have long since gotten lost. While Sergeant’s Insight wasn’t totally useless in aiding navigation, it was far less directed towards that ability than Explorer’s Toolkit had been in that regard — a worthy sacrifice for just how much better it had gotten at keeping him and his team safe.

  Eventually, the hallways changed slightly. They were more cramped, reinforced by steel brackets. Wooden doors became barred, and Fyfen was soon rifling through his key ring for three keys to unlock each instead of one.

  Their final barrier was a solid steel thing, heavily inscribed — a script Kaius recognised, though he didn’t know it personally. Roswainian.

  One that had been heavily in use for the better part of seven hundred years as a go-to for physical reinforcement, defensive warding, and other such security measures. It was, in many ways, simplistic — incapable of some of the finer subtleties that could be wrought when somebody invested in more extravagant work, like Old Yon had with his vaults. That said, what it did do, it did well. It was easy to maintain, and had notable longevity in the runic arts.

  If the city walls were inscribed with the same script, then it was no wonder that Governor Hanrick hadn’t seen a pressing need to renew the work.

  The very sight of it loosened some of the tension in Kaius’s shoulders. A hundred and fifty years was certainly not ideal, but if the formation’s creator had used Roswainian, then it was likely still functional — and repairable, even in the worst of scenarios.

  Both the physical locks and the defensive enchantments on the door were already open. Fyfen pushed the heavy thing open, only grunting slightly with the effort.

  As it creaked open, a large chamber was revealed, brightly lit with ward-lights. It was circular, its ground made of a single flawless piece of stone that, even without measuring, Kaius could tell was perfectly levelled — a dusky green that faintly emanated mana, likely a natural magical material. A perfect conduit for a large-scale formation.

  As he had anticipated, it was covered in Roswainian runes, the entire thing easily stretching twelve long strides across.

  There were other scripts too — one he didn’t recognise — but he spotted the distinctive triangular alignments of Simenoan stabilising arrays, with small amounts of Yosh’s Supplementary to integrate them into the overall formation. All three of the additional scripts seemed to be acting in a supportive capacity, though it was hard to tell their level of importance based on his scattered comprehension of traditional runecraft.

  The formation wasn’t the only thing in the room. The other runewrights were already there: three old men, dressed in the sturdy cottons and leathers of those who worked with their hands, their grips calloused from handling raw materials and the delicate work of inscription.

  The trio was crouched over a section of the formation at the far side of the room, muttering to themselves. They fell silent as Fyfen and Kaius entered, slowly rising to their feet.

  “This is who you brought us, Fyfen?” one of them said. “Some babe-faced brute? What’s a warrior going to do to help us with this sort of work, eh? I mean, look at him. He’s—”

  The middle runewright trailed off, squinting at Kaius’s face.

  Kaius could feel him staring at his temples, and the black lines of his Eirnith inscription. The others stared too, their expressions slowly shifting from confusion to outright befuddlement before they settled on shock.

  “What the fuck is that?” the one on the right said, outright pointing at Kaius’s face.

  “Craftsman Garth — you forget yourself!” the chamberlain snapped, his eyes flicking to Kaius to check if he had taken offence.

  Kaius paid the impropriety no mind, only grinning.

  He’d had an incredibly stressful few weeks. He’d escaped a Crucible, slaughtered an enemy that had locked him up and tortured him, learned the name of his father’s killer, delved an Imperial ruin, only to lose his leg — and found that the weight of his legacy was heavier than he’d ever thought.

  If that wasn’t enough, he’d found that the city he’d called home for over the last year was about to come under siege by some maniacal beast of a thing, driven only by a progression of the system’s integration that he himself had caused.

  Such things could make a man feel tense — perhaps even tightly wound. Yet despite all that, there was one thing he had been looking forward to today.

  For far too long, he had been forced to hide his achievements, and, even more importantly, the innovations his father had created and he had put into action. For over a year, he had sat on the secret to an entire divergence of runecraft, one that he hadn’t dared share with any true expert of the art, lest he put himself at risk for the value of the knowledge he held.

  Now, he was strong, a Silver that had killed Gold — guardians of the Great Depths, no less. Hells, it wasn’t even a stretch to say he was unparalleled in might for his level. He at least had the capability to defend himself from the avaricious wants of others, especially considering he had no plans to keep glyphbinding a secret for himself alone.

  Staring into the eyes of the runewrights, Kaius saw only their burning curiosity, their confusion, and their need to know more.

  The very sight of it was nearly enough for him to jump on the spot.

  Finally, he could show off a little.

  almost done with b2. Once b3 is done I can actually start organising an official publishing date with my publisher, which i'm looking forward to. Same with getting a copy of the audio.

  Oh yeah, B4 just finished on Patreon! (aside from two epilogues, but hey) Come check it out!

  https://discord.gg/NjsqGKHHaY