The Runic Alchemist

Damian instructed them to place all the designs in a big wooden box that he created in the middle of the hall before declaring the challenge underway. After waiting an hour in the balcony for latecomers, he now barred further entry.

"Where are you going?" the pugilist boy asked. His name was Karl. He had asked him when they waited for the brats to gather.

"To enjoy my day off," Damian replied.

"What about the challenge?" one of the prince's lackeys questioned.

"First lesson of Maximus the Tired: patience," Damian said with a disarming smile. "They can wait until night and learn the virtuous gift of patience."

Everyone stared at him as though he'd just unveiled the ultimate scam. Sam, however, simply laughed and headed toward the dueling community room, bragging about his plan to break the record for most consecutive duel victories. And have his name plastered in the Hall of Glory.

The guys in his community were making a list of who to challenge and who to stay far away from. Guess who was on the top of the list to stay away from..? Trash one second ranker and he had suddenly become an academy delinquent..

Damian and Reize spent another full day buried in their stacks of books. Damian ignored all irrelevant subjects, focusing instead on spells and runes. Though he had found a few useful discoveries, nothing seemed applicable to their project. Reize, on the other hand, had skimmed through countless books on enchantments. She made a short list of spells she wanted to master, but those would require considerable time and practice before they could be of any practical use. Even among her selections, none seemed particularly related to their mana problem.

Still, they persisted, combing through page after page in hopes of uncovering something useful. After finally having dinner and a bit of rest, Damian returned to the hall with the others in tow. By then, only 5–7% of the participants remained. Clearly, most of them had thought this challenge would be a one- or two-hour event with a quick fight and an easy resolution. At least half of Damian's plan had worked, though it was disheartening to see so many stubborn or desperate individuals still clinging on, even forgoing meals to hold out for just a bit longer.

Feeling sympathy for them, Damian arranged for the staff to deliver food directly to the hall. When the meals arrived, the kids devoured them like a pack of monkeys.

But the question remained: What should he do now?

They still anticipated intruders, but none of the remaining participants were strong enough to hold their own against Damian's casual attacks, and they were weak after a tiring, hungry day.

It was not surprising that his younger sibling was still there. After listening to his house's condition, he guessed what more or less the guy thought. He wanted to make a name for himself at any cost-gain strength, status, power, anything to become a pillar for his broken house. Even if he extended this challenge for a week he will probably be here, passed out and sick but still here.

Another surprise was the girl still sketching her sword designs. The growing pile of discarded papers beside her hinted that she'd been using her time wisely, brainstorming new ideas while waiting. Damian hadn't expected her to last this long either - the papers were costly and he was going to provide them but then Worldscribe sent someone with a large pile so he just accepted. The girl seemed to have taken the no limit of trying to the heart.

He was impressed by their dedication. Letting these kids suffer for nothing would leave a bad taste in his mouth. Guess a few brats doing his chores wouldn't be so bad. But rules were rules—he could only choose two.

With that in mind, Damian conjured a lavish wooden chair in the center of the room and pulled out a stack of papers from the big wooden box. Taking his seat, he began evaluating the designs as the brats ate. He judged each one on originality, functionality, uniqueness, and combat usefulness, scoring them out of 10.

The remaining 14 participants gathered around him in a loose circle once done, watching intently as though attending a class. Most designs required only a few seconds of Damian's attention, especially the uninspired, copy-paste submissions, which he promptly ignored. The more intricate ones demanded a closer look, but none stood out as exceptional so far.

As he worked, the Toph fangirl—approached and placed her design onto the pile. Damian acknowledged her with a nod. Her gaze, however, wasn't on him but on Toph, who was lounging in Damian's lap, behaving uncharacteristically docile while observing the room.

Einar and the others remained with Damian, not out of interest in the challenge but rather to enjoy the balcony bench he'd conjured, where they sat chatting away.

After several minutes of silent assessment, Damian spoke at last. "As you all know," he began, glancing at the circle of expectant faces, "I can only take two of you. One will be chosen based on the best sword design, and the other... Well, that's up to you."

A ripple of murmurs spread through the group as the kids glanced warily at one another, assessing their competition. Yet, surprisingly, no one argued, trash-talked, or resorted to bribery. Their shared suffering had forged an unspoken camaraderie during their long wait. They were tired of such things by now.n/o/vel/b//in dot c//om

Damian continued, "If I were to test you as intruders like I originally planned, none of you would stand a chance. And honestly, I don't want to start all over again. So, let's do it differently."

He summoned 12 runic spatial storage items, each one a bracer identical in appearance but differ vastly in quality, from supreme grade with 20mx20m internal storage to common grade with only 2mx2m. To demonstrate their attributes, Damian performed an analyze spell on 10 of the bracers, projecting their stats for everyone to see. Gasps and murmurs filled the air as the students crowded around, marveling at the rarity of the items.