The Runic Alchemist

That night, after the contestants departed, Damian reviewed the sword designs in his room. Some were nice but one among them stood out—an imitation of a masterpiece that could barely be made with traditional methods.. It bore a girl's name, and Damian had a suspicion about its creator.

The next day, he asked the staff to summon the girl, and his hunch was confirmed—it was the same skinny girl with the meager mana pool.

What a pair of followers he had gained: a penniless noble and a barely-qualified pathfinder. Yet, Damian admitted they had earned their place. The girl's design, after all, was by far the most impressive he had seen.

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They argue more often now. Quietly, behind closed doors, but it's there. The pressure mounts, and I can see it wearing on them, even if they won't admit it. Still, the villagers we pass adore them, offer prayers to the Children of Light for their safety and success. None of them pray for me. That shouldn't bother me as much as it does. ~ Page 16

I've been keeping my distance. Not that they seem to notice. They're preoccupied with the mission, the evil they're destined to vanquish. I watch from the edges, studying their movements, their words, their silences. I see how often they falter when they think no one's looking. I'm starting to wonder if this group is held together by belief or by desperation. ~ Page 23

Something is wrong. It's not just the others; it's him. His confidence feels forced, his kindness mechanical. I've seen the looks he gives when he thinks no one is watching—not cruel, not angry, but empty. As if he's a vessel for something he doesn't quite understand. It frightens me more than I care to admit. ~ Page 31

The final battle is near. They're preparing, brimming with righteous resolve. I've never felt so out of place. They talk of unity, but I feel nothing of the sort. I've grown to fear them as much as I fear the darkness we're meant to fight. There's something deeply, irrevocably wrong, and it's too late to turn back. Or maybe it's not. ~ Page 47

I made my decision. I can't stay. I can't fight beside them, not as I am, not with what I know—or suspect. They shine too brightly, and I can no longer tell if it's the light of salvation or a flame that will consume everything. I'll act alone. Perhaps I'll fail, but failure feels less terrifying than standing among them when the end comes. I only hope I'm not too late. ~ Page 49

~ Unknown, The contents of the hidden Diary of 'The Path Taken'.

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The week began as ordinary as ever. Damian attended the morning assembly, followed by hours of monotonous classes. Only after those could he begin what he considered the start of his day. Even though the classes felt like a waste of time, the discussion, the fun attending it with others and the vast time to think about his own ideas and scribble them as the professors went on and on was a welcomed change from the relentless busyness of the labs.

While a week wasn't enough to acquaint himself with everyone, many had already begun speaking to each other casually. Damian was greeted by the girl who had once asked him to dance and several of the knowledge-keepers who had gathered the courage to approach him. Some mentioned his infamous stunt of throwing a professor in a joking manner—a feat that intrigued, amused, and baffled them.

Despite his disinterest in some subjects, the week's lighter moments balanced things out. He even gained an hour of free time due to adjustments in the Beast Studies and convinced the Potion Crafting professor, with the help of Worldscribe, to allow him to attend her class only twice a week. He kept full schedules for Spellcrafting, History of Magic, and the most useful, Combat Arts.

Reize had told him that when Runesmiths takes a class or teaches something important he would call on them, so they shouldn't leave the academy grounds when his class was held. Not that Damian left the academy much.

During lunch, Damian spotted the two young squires he had chosen. They lingered near the entrance, looking lost in the VIP section mess hall of the Knowledge keepers. Picking up on their mana signatures before they even showed their faces, he quickly called out to them, saving them from further awkwardness. Their relief was apparent as they joined him and Reize at the table.

He and Reize were already eating anyway. They shared the new information they had discovered from the books they borrowed from the library the previous night. Together, they discussed how to apply the knowledge, organizing their thoughts into notes to ensure the ideas could be easily referenced when needed during practical application.

The two squires nervously seated beside him and Reize. Technically they should get food for him and do a whole lot of other stuff which was what the traditional squires really did, But Damian didn't care much for such stuff and had planned to use both as his work assistants - Hopefully they will perform better than his previous one.

"What are your names?" Damian asked, though he already knew.

"I'm Luminisha Kauwser, sir," the Toph enthusiast muttered, avoiding his gaze and looking instead at the unconcerned Toph, who was preoccupied with his food.

"Elias Sunblade, sir," replied the other nervously.

"Call me Maximus. I'm not a knight," Damian corrected.

"Huh? But…you're the Shieldbearer," Elias mumbled.

"So I've been told," Damian sighed. Reize chuckled at his response.

Damian instructed them to meet him in the fifth-year VIP labs after their classes.

Damian didn't concern himself with whether they understood the discussions he was having with Reize or not. They were to sign a mana contract with him, ensuring their secrecy and obedience. This was a requirement for all squires serving under the Highsword, sworn as an oath before beginning their duties. The contract was binding—betrayal meant certain death. Extreme, but such were the laws of the Highsword.Nôv(el)B\\jnn