Runeblade

B2 Chapter 189: Stupid Prizes, pt. 1

Kaius stood in the training hall. It reeked with the scent of iron, the cold corpse of the infernus hound still laying where it had been slain.

His team was with him, Porkchop standing by his side with his armour already summoned, while Ianmus loomed behind them—his staff gripped firmly.

Across the hall was Rieker. He looked…casual. At complete ease in a way that was radically divergent from the tense anticipation that made Kaius flex his grip on his sword, the leather wrapping squeaking.

Garbed in only the high quality cottons he had been wearing to eat, the only thing that gave away his violent intent was the oddly balanced warhammer he held in an easy grip.

Forcing his muscles to loosen, Kaius rolled his shoulders.

He took a slow breath, readying himself for the coming battle. For the first time since his spars with Father, he knew he would lose. The only question was how long they would last, and if they could make the guildmaster sweat for it.

Thankfully, the guildmaster had been kind enough to step out of the silence-enchanted hall to give them a few minutes to come up with a battleplan. All in all, it was similar to how they normally fought—with one main exception.

They would be fighting defensively.

Ianmus wasn’t even going to try for an alpha strike. Their opponent was a man, not a mindless beast, and no doubt he would focus on Ianmus if given the slightest opportunity. It was basic battle tactics.

Instead, the half-elf would focus on blinding Rieker as much as he was able, and on keeping his frontline hale and hearty.

Porkchop had his own role to play. Making sure that their opponent never got the opening he would be looking for. Unfortunately, his new skill was unlikely to work on Rieker to any great effect, his vastly inflated level compared to their own would confer too much innate resistance to anything they could throw at him—let alone the raw Willpower that the man surely had.

As for himself, Kaius would be their harasser, using both of his spells to keep the pressure on. With his added spell, he now had to make choices on his loadout—balance his reserved mana based on what he expected to need.

Honestly, it was probably for the best. It was rare indeed when he had had the opportunity to burn all of his inscriptions in a single fight.

For this one, he’d decided to give himself a decent chance to lean on his latest spell, though he’d still leant primarily on his only damaging spell. Ten charges of Slip Step, and twenty-two of Stormlash.

It wouldn’t be enough—not against the Wardog of Deadacre.

Even if he was going to lose, it didn’t stop a smile from creeping its way across his face. There was no fear, for Rieker wouldn’t kill them. Instead, all Kaius felt was the rising heat of the challenge. The thrill of staring up an insurmountable mountain—of knowing that he wouldn’t give up, even in the face of certain defeat.

Afterall, even if they were destined to lose today, weakness was temporary. All he needed was time and battle, and one day he would surpass the second tier.

Kaius knew it in his bones.

Taking a quick glance to his team to check in on them, he got a pair of swift nods in return. They were prepared for what was to come.

“Ready!” he called to the looming danger wrapped in a man's skin.

Rieker grinned. A wide thing, revealing far too many teeth. Even from nearly a hundred long-strides away, Kaius could see the way he looked at them with what could only be described as hunger.

He presented the man his side, right leg forward with his blade held out at an angle. A duelist's stance that minimised his profile and kept his off hand free for casting.

Nominally, it was a poor choice for a longsword—but with all of his enhanced strength A Father’s Gift may as well have been as light as a feather. More, he felt the instincts from his spellblade mastery skill nudge him to shift his stance a little wider, giving him the range of motion to pivot through his hips and lean more heavily into the slashes that such a stout weapon encouraged.

His aggressive stance seemed to only buoy the guildmaster’s good mood. He didn’t move to follow, still standing relaxed—almost slouching.

“Ready.” Rieker said back, his voice projecting through the space with a deep baritone.

Kaius braced.

Rieker lunged.

It was a simple movement. Economic, easy, and smooth. Almost slow.

A piercing crack echoed as the man's foot hit the floor, launching him towards Kaius and his party at breakneck speeds.

Then, he was simply there. Right in their face.

Still, as fast as the guildmaster may have been, they were no strangers to fighting against creatures that had them utterly physically outmatched.

Kaius lurched forwards, thrusting towards Rieker’s chest with a full weighted stab, his blade racing forwards in a blur of grey and black. It glowed with internal fire, empowered by his Bladerite. Light crackled in his off hand as he summoned a Stormlash in preparation for a follow up, showering the ground behind him in orange light.

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As he moved, Porkchop punched the ground with his claws, a wall of jade erupting between them and the guildmaster. Ostensibly, it blocked Kaius’s path of attack, but he was under no illusions that Rieker would be caught off guard.

Kaius heard the slap of a boot on stone, before Rieker simply sailed clean over the slab of jade that raced towards him. Adjusting the angle of his blade, Kaius aimed to run the man through.

A casual open-handed slap was enough to wrench his sword away. Eyes widening, he stumbled as he tightened his grip on his hilt, the force of the parry leaving his hand stinging and numb.

His follow up came quickly, offhand lashing out to bind Rieker with another streamer of crackling lightning.

Plasma arced, crossing the space between them in half a moment. Only to discharge impotently on stone as Rieker…disappeared.

**Ding! Latent Glyph of Drakthar has reached level 27!**

The barest rustle of fabric behind him was all the warning he got. Kaius’s eyes hardened. He planted his weight on his back foot to pivot into a vicious glowing cut as he brought his offhand back onto his hilt.

**Ding! Initiate’s Bladerite has reached level 16!**

Rieker was right there, ready for him with his warhammer held in a choked grip. Waiting with an easy grin on his face. The man dipped, bobbing underneath his sweeping blade. A moment later he twitched his head, pulling it to the side to narrowly dodge one of Ianmus’s snapping Sunbeams

Kaius grit his teeth, bringing his pommel down in a heavy smash—aiming to crack the guildmaster’s skull.

It was useless; the man was as slippery as an eel. Even flowing through a flurry of cuts and stabs, interweaving Stomlashes with his strikes, it was like fighting the air. Every time he thought he was bound to land a hit, the man would adjust by the barest of a hair's breadth, allowing his sword to sail past harmlessly.

No matter how much he watched the man, sought openings and weaknesses, he found nothing. Explorer’s Toolkit was silent—except for the constant scream of danger it blurted at Rieker’s every movement.

**Ding! Latent Glyph of Drakthar has reached level 28!**

…

**Ding! Latent Glyph of Drakthar has reached level 29!**

**Ding! Liturgical Bladeform: Primus Ordo has reached level 33!**

…

**Ding! Liturgical Bladeform: Primus Ordo has reached level 35!**

“Decent reactions, and plenty aggressive, but it’s all meaningless if you can't even hit me.” Rieker taunted, his grin enough to drive a hot flush of infuriation up Kaius’s neck.

A shattering cry that promised doom and slaughter echoed through the hall as Porkchop unleashed his latest skill, trying to force the guildmaster’s attention on him.

Rieker looked away from Kaius, assessing the threat. He and Ianmus reacted instantly, yellow and blue light flashing as they both tried to capitalise on the man's distraction.

It was useless. Rieker flashed in faster than he could track, appearing inside his guard. Planting a solid palm on his chest, the guildmaster shoved.

It was like getting kicked by a mule. Kaius gasped as the air was driven from his chest, the force of the blow enough to send him skidding back across the stone. It was all he could do to keep his feet underneath him.

**Ding! Tempered by Dissonance has reached level 33!**

“Nice try, and a good response to a ‘distracted’ opponent. Unfortunately, all the cohesive teamwork in the world means nothing in the face of Strength.”

Rieker locked eyes with him, eyes glinting dangerously. His grip on his warhammer loosened, his grip sliding down to the base of the haft.

Ice shot through Kaius’s veins.

This was going to hurt.

Porkchop saw it at the same time he did—the growing anticipation on Rieker’s face. The man had been toying with them, assessing their movements. It seemed he had seen enough.

Unleashing another Bulwark’s Challenge that filled the hall with his terrible roar, Porkchop tapped into the mana he had stored in his amulet and shot towards the guildmaster. As he moved, Kaius caught a flash of yellow from Ianmus’s staff, before his brother was wrapped in the bolstering power of the sun.

Rieker looked over to the rapidly approaching ball of primal fury and smiled. A simple step sent the man flying backwards, creating enough distance for Porkchop to lose steam. It didn’t dissuade his brother, who flew into a storm of raking claws and gnashing teeth.

He did as well as Kaius had done, grasping nothing but air.

“All that fury, all that power. It means nothing if there is no thought backing it.” Rieker whispered, the words cutting through the howling din of the battle.

Kaius tried to support, racing in to hack at the agile warrior, but even with the two of them laying into the man, it was of no use—they couldn’t bloody hit him. Rieker wasn’t even moving fast. It was easy to keep track of him, most of the time at least—hells, Kaius was sure that he was moving slower than they were. It was like he knew where they were going to move, like he was leading them on a dance.

Then Rieker attacked.

Porkchop fell first.

“You throw yourself at me, expecting your sheer size and presence to be enough to force my attention. You savage, and you bite, and you claw— but there is no deftness. No attempt to create openings. You don’t even try to force me to dance to your tune, to try and leave me vulnerable to your allies.” Rieker said with ease, like he was making conversation over dinner. There was no malice, no cruelty, and no hostility—just a casual sharing of facts.

“You expect your armour to keep you safe.” the guildmaster stepped in, slipping around a Sunbeam, rolling under a heavy clawed swipe, and slapping away a thrust of Kaius’s sword to appear inside of Porkchop’s guard.

“It doesn’t.”

Rieker’s hammer hit Porkchop’s jade breastplate with the weight of a mountain. It wasn’t a hard swing—at least, it didn’t look like it—and the armour was some of the thickest on Porkchop’s body.

It didn’t matter in the slightest.

A shattering crash resounded through the hall, like bricks being dropped onto stone from a great height. Porkchop’s chest caved in, blood fountaining from his mouth in a desperate gurgle.

“Porkchop!” Ianmus called, a glow surrounding him in a warm halo as he started to shape a healing spell.

Kaius’s heart leapt into his throat. He knew the wound was unlikely to kill his brother, not with his current Endurance, and his sheer toughness, but it was a grievous injury all the same.

Unable to help himself, a desperate cry of rage slipped between his lips and the agony spreading across their bond sparked a raging heat in his chest. He raced in. He had to catch the man, move faster than he could, force him off guard. Something.

His newest spell was his only choice.

Reaching out with his will to the swirling inscription that wrapped around his foot, Kaius watched the guildmaster draw a dagger from his belt.

Looming over his brother’s collapsed form, Rieker plunged the blade down between Porkchop’s shoulder blades.

Right into his spine.