The Runic Alchemist

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From the Office of the Headmaster

Highsword Academy

To Maximus of Eldoris,

It is with great respect and discernment that I, Headmaster Worldscribe of the Highsword Academy, declare Maximus of Eldoris a man worthy of the honor and responsibility of taking on squires under his guidance.

Though born of common blood, Maximus has distinguished himself through unparalleled dedication, skill, and honor. His mastery in arms, unwavering discipline, and the integrity with which he conducts himself stand as a testament to his worthiness—not only as a swordsman but as a leader and craftsmen.

In recognizing Maximus, we do so not for title or lineage, but for deeds done and excellence earned. Though the conduct of violence is highly unbecoming, Highsword academy recognizes the strength required for such a feat. The young squires under his care will undoubtedly learn not just the art of combat, but the virtues of resilience, humility, and hard-won strength that Maximus himself exemplifies. Shieldbearer title is his to carry.

Let his name serve as a reminder that greatness bows to no birthright.

With full confidence and seal,

Headmaster Worldscribe

Highsword Academy

****

"Heh?!" Damian nearly spat out his honeyed wine.

'..Distinguished himself through unparalleled dedication, skill, and honor.'

'..Learn not just the art of combat, but the virtues of resilience, humility, and hard-won strength'

Who the f*ck are they talking about? Him? Was this sarcasm? Worldscribe herself wrote it! Is she making fun of him?

"No way!" Grace exclaimed, reading from beside him.

"That's unexpected," Evrin commented from the other side.

"What is it?" Sam inquired from across the table.

"Maximus has been given the Shieldbearer title," Grace explained, confusing both him and Sam even more. They collectively looked at Einar, who wore a shocked expression plastered on her face.

"A title and a rare privilege given to those who rank at the top of their section for three consecutive years or defeat individuals who have the title in a duel. He can choose two squires from the first three years to train," she muttered at last.

"Can it be passed?" Damian asked with hopeful eyes. Everyone gave him a stink eye.

"What?" he defended himself. "I don't have time for this; I've got stuff to do."

"It's a rare honor," Grace reiterated. "Many who've held the title were later accepted as squires for Highsword members themselves."

"Yeah, but what's the benefit for me? I just get two brats to look after?" Damian asked. Murmurs started spreading around them—this news would be all over the academy by tomorrow.

"You gain their loyalty," Einar explained. "The houses of the chosen squires would be reluctant to raise arms against yours. And it's a great favor to hold... not that you care, of course." Then she added, "Yes, if someone defeats you in a duel, the title will be theirs."

"Anyone here want to duel me? I swear I won't even raise my hands," Damian offered, earning looks of exasperation. Even Reize gave him a "weirdo" look—and that said a lot.n/o/vel/b//in dot c//om

"Don't. Highsword considers duels sacred. Disrespecting one could get you expelled and banned from participating in the Monarch's Trial," Ervin advised. Damian sighed dejectedly.

"But only knights have squires, right? Maximus isn't a knight," Sam asked.

"Yes, this is the first time ever, I think," Einar said.

Once they finished eating, Damian suggested a stroll outside. The academy's grounds included a secluded garden with rare flowers, statues, fountains, and mana lamps. Mana lamps were kept at fixed spots, so students could get fresh air at night if they wanted. These worked differently though, as it required mana from the students every couple of hours to light continously. Mostly no one came though, except a few - the chilly wind made it necessary to wear multiple layers for those who came - which people were too lazy to do. So most kept their gatherings inside the vast mess hall after dinner or their community rooms. Those had no time restrictions.

Reize, sensing Damian's need for privacy, bid them goodbye and headed not toward the Knowledge Keeper section but back to the forge.

"What's this about? You never want fresh air, you cave dweller," Sam said.

"Nothing much," Damian replied. "Just wanted to give Einar this."

He took out the completed sword and handed it to her. She blinked twice as everyone watched her fingers glide over the slick blade with its red leather handle and glowing, palm-sized runic circles. One green circle sat beneath the hilt-starting of the blade, another red one in the center of the blade. Damian muttered a few words, activating the blade's information display for her.

"A... A named blade?" Grace stammered.

"High-grade weapon... unheard-of technique..." Ervin muttered in disbelief.

"Primordial Metal Shaper? Who's that? You made it, right?" Sam asked, not surprised much by other things and focusing on weird parts as usual.

"Yes, it's one of my titles," Damian admitted.

"It's beautiful. Now I see why you trashed all those shops," Einar said, testing its weight with simple moves. The blade's hum sliced through the cold air.

"It even has special effects and mana-gathering features. This can't be the work of a beginner.. And the runic array.. It's so small.. How is it possible.." Grace finally recovered.

Damian explained to Einar how the activation of the spells worked and what they were. Though his made up name of fiery bird failed to truly explain what he really meant, he did manage to explain to her that she needed to learn how to take control of her own spell with a mana thread for better usage. When she activated the air-blade shield spell, her face lit up.

"It didn't use my mana," she murmured, amazed.

"Work like this is worth hundreds of gold," Grace remarked, dimming Einar's smile slightly. Grace added, "You made it in under a week. With talent like this, you could establish your own house in any kingdom and attract powerful allies. People would flock over to join you, in hope for better equipment.."

"It's no use, Grace. He doesn't make weapons for others," Sam interjected.

"Huh? Why not?" Ervin asked instead of Grace.

"He's weird like that," Sam answered awkwardly, looking at Damian.

Damian nodded with a smile. "Sam's right; I don't. This one was a gift," he said, placing a hand on Einar's shoulder. Seeing her joyful expression falter—likely wondering if she had to pay—he clarified, restoring her good mood. What a simpleton.