The Runesmith-Chapter 560: Months Later.

Target does not meet the requirements to become a vassal.

"Is there something on my face?"

"No..."

"You sure? You've been staring for a while."

"Just taking in the view."

"I didn’t know you were such a flirt, Mr. Wayland."

"Only with you, Mrs. Wayland."

Elodia laughed softly as she sat up in bed. Roland watched her, though his eyes flicked to the system message lingering in the corner of his vision. He’d tried before, but it seemed impossible to grant someone vassal status without a battle class. It was just another rule of this world he’d have to accept.

"Oh… look at the time!"

Just as their lips were about to meet, Elodia pulled away, her eyes darting to the clock.

"There should be some leftovers from yesterday. Just heat them up… I have to go. We're having our first extracurricular activity today!"

"Oh, that was today?"

"Mhm."

Roland felt a flicker of disappointment, but when he saw the excitement on his wife's face, he held back any complaint. Instead, he got ready to tackle the day himself. A lot had happened recently, and the formation of the school for children was just one part of it.

As Elodia stepped outside, two guards approached her. A carriage waited nearby to take her back to the city, along with the orphans who were still living at the estate. The scene reminded Roland of his past life, as he also rode the bus to get to school on time, always rushing to avoid being late.

"Things have been going smoothly lately”

With the house now empty, he decided to check on what was happening in the city. Nearly a year had passed since he rescued his brother and Lucille, his brother's wife. It had taken a few months for them to settle in, but now both served as respected knight commanders in the Valerian army.

“I’ll just grab a few sandwiches, should be enough for now…”

After grabbing some food from his version of a refrigerator, Roland headed down into his workshop. Rows of screens lit up to greet him, the sterile overhead lighting reminding him of the kind of office spaces people spent their lives trapped in. As he munched on his breakfast, his eyes scanned the screens, monitoring the movements of his allies.

Durendal had become one of the leading knight commanders in Arthur’s army. Robert now acted as his right-hand man, handling most of the logistics and responsibilities that came with the role. With them managing the military side of things, Roland had been free to focus on leveling his own skills, though progress had slowed lately.

Name

Roland Arden L 216

Classes:

T3 Runesmith Overlord L41 [ Primary ]

T2 Runesmith Lord L50 [ Tertiary ]

T2 Runic Engineer L50 [Secondary]

T1 Mage L25 [ X ]

T1 Runic Mana Scribe L 25 [ X ]

T1 Runic Blacksmith L 25 [ X ]

While he’d managed to keep leveling, the pace had dropped off sharply. The main issue: a lack of proper monsters to hunt. Combat-based advancement was becoming inefficient, forcing him to lean more on the craftsman side of his class. Thankfully, the elemental armors had given him a significant boost. But assembling the resources and finding the time to craft them had taken months.

“Should I take a trip to the super dungeon once all of this is over?”

Roland leaned back in his chair, finishing the last bite of his sandwich. He knew he was much stronger than the average adventurer. With his current strength, he could hunt monsters well above his level, making it relatively easy to progress. The only thing holding him back was the weight of his responsibilities in Albrook, along with the need to wait for the upcoming culling event. Once that was out of the way, he would finally be free to focus on his growth again.

However, venturing into the super dungeon was a different matter entirely. It was dangerous. From what he could gather, most of the creatures inside were tier-3, and there were even reports of tier-4 monsters lurking deeper. The main boss was said to be a tier-5 creature. At least, that was the rumor. Hard evidence was scarce since few ever dared to approach the creature’s territory. Most adventurers kept their distance, afraid it might awaken and attack without warning.

The dragon was unique, a slumbering beast said to rest in the heart of a volcano. Challenging it without permission from the Duke's house was forbidden. Doing so would bring condemnation from the entire island. Roland was far from being ready to face something of that scale. He had not even reached the level of a tier-4 class holder.

At his current pace, it would take him over ten years, perhaps even longer. He did not fool himself into believing he would reach tier-4 as quickly as he had reached tier-3. Still, this was his goal. He was well aware that powerful threats still existed, and any one of them could endanger him or the people he cared about.

Only a handful ever reached that level. Tier-4 class holders were considered the elite of the elite. Each country or empire treated them as living weapons, valuable enough to change the course of wars. Tier-5 class holders were rarer still. They remained within their own territories, acting as symbols of power and deterrence. They rarely moved unless another of equal strength appeared. When they did, legends were born, and the world around them was forever changed.

“The training is going well, and thanks to all the mana fluid, we were able to pay off the debt much sooner than expected.”

The loan Arthur had been so concerned about was quickly paid off after they discovered the long, winding tunnels filled with mana. Using their specialized filters, they could liquidate the mana. Besides powering their golems, it could be sold for a considerable profit. Coupled with the resources they were gaining from monster farming through the runic turrets, they had cleared the debt a few weeks ago and were now beginning to turn a profit. If this continued, they would catch up to Arthur’s brother in no time.

Roland’s gaze swept across the training grounds, where several golems moved in perfect formation. Lucille led the group, but she couldn't control them all at once. To solve this, they had implemented a command unit within their forces. Only those units were directly under her control, and they relayed orders to the lesser-intelligent golems. Her runic magic had grown stronger after numerous upgrades to her gear, equipment she had a hand in assembling.

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"I wonder how Lucienne is doing…”

Seeing Lucille always reminded him of his younger sister. He still visited the institute every week, sometimes even conducting lessons in the nearby dungeon. This time, at least, no one was trying to kill him. But his sister never returned. Their father had apparently decided it was too dangerous for her to continue studying there.

It was a decision Roland agreed with. Viola Castellane had also stayed away, but the power of her house still stretched across the region. It was probable that some assassination attempts would be carried out against his sister. Wentworth was powerful, but he had few retainers strong enough to protect her outside their territory. Instead, she had a private tutor and remained within the Arden estate.

It was the safest option, but it also meant Lucienne would suffer for it. Without the institute's experts and facilities, it would be much harder for her to develop her skills and gain levels. Her growth would slow, and Roland couldn't help but wonder if there was something he could do about it. He was a respected professor now, but even that was not enough to guarantee her safety.

Soon, his gaze shifted to another point of interest, Arthur Valerian. His noble friend had made significant progress, but he had not received a vassal skill. It would have been unusual for the son of a duke to become his vassal, even if it meant gaining a powerful skill and a rare class.

Instead, Arthur had chosen to walk his own path, a decision Roland respected. However, this also meant he had to postpone his tier-3 ascension. He had been training rigorously, pushing his skills and levels to their limits, but the right moment had yet to come. It was unknown to Roland what class Arthur was aiming but it seemed to require some skill books that were hard to come by.

‘A wise choice. He can't keep relying on outside forces, and he probably isn't sure if I'll remain in his service forever.’

It was the most logical decision. If Arthur obtained a rune-related class, he would always be dependent on Roland or other runesmiths. What he truly needed was a class he could rely on without outside help. Runic classes were not the only prestigious options available. Just as Roland had received his Overlord class, there were likely other rare classes reserved for a chosen few. Unlocking them would require unique skill combinations, and perhaps even a special bloodline or rare artifacts.

With their current earnings on the rise, this possibility was becoming more realistic. Arthur had already been making several interesting purchases, no doubt in preparation for what was to come.

“Hm?”

Roland’s eyes flickered to the screen, drawn to the orange flash that pulsed insistently in the corner. His fingers moved instinctively, bringing up the alert window. One of the perimeter sensors had detected something, an anomaly within the underground tunnels.

“That’s strange… Sebastian.”

“Yes, Master?”

“Dispatch a scout golem to these coordinates. The mana concentration seems to be rising rapidly. I want confirmation on whether it’s a natural event or something else.”

“Understood.”

Sebastian remained a floating wisp of light, his new humanoid body still incomplete. He was now responsible for monitoring the entire city and controlling nearly every golem within it. The warning came from the tunnels. Almost immediately, a wheeled golem unit was activated and sent to investigate, providing a visual feed of the situation.

They had been steadily expanding their sensor network, but the underground tunnels seemed endless. The high concentration of mana made it difficult to deploy golems effectively, forcing them to rely on alternative methods. Armand and Lobelia, both strong enough to withstand the mana density, played a crucial role in these efforts.

Many sections of the tunnels, including the one where the alert had originated, were still not fully equipped. To compensate, Roland had set up specialized stations with mobile camera golems. These units could navigate closer to trouble spots and relay information even through the interference caused by the dense mana fields.

Roland leaned back in his chair, wondering if he should get more food as he watched the live feed from his scout golem. The dark tunnels stretched endlessly, twisting and turning like a labyrinth, with glowing crystals embedded in the walls providing some light. For a while, there was nothing unusual, just the mana haze disrupting the signal intermittently. Then, suddenly, the image blurred.

He sat up, eyes narrowing as static flickered across the screen. The golem’s vision distorted for a moment before stabilizing. A figure loomed ahead, barely discernible in the shifting light. Before the golem could capture a clearer view, something moved, fast. The screen flashed violently before cutting to black.

“Unit Lost”

Sebastian informed him about the obvious and a grim expression crossed Roland’s face. Whatever had destroyed the golem had done so with alarming efficiency. He rewound the feed, slowing it down frame by frame. The last clear image showed a silhouette, it wasn’t clear if it was humanoid or beast but one thing was clear, the time had come.

“These coordinates…”

Roland placed his hand on the keyboard, linking with the runic console. Within seconds, a holographic image flickered to life, displaying the underground caverns they had managed to map. The anomaly was deep within one of the furthest sections.

‘It’s still far away… we have some time.’

“Sebastian, initiate Code Orange. Evacuate all non-combatants from the dungeon. Anyone below tier two needs to leave immediately.”

“Yes, Master.”

The order was given, and the evacuation process began. The underground dungeon, usually bustling with miners and soldiers, was now in a state of controlled chaos. Low-tier combatants and civilians rushed toward the teleportation gate while the first response teams mobilized.

“Inform Arthur. We need to assemble the commanders.”

Roland wasted no time. He moved quickly, making his way to the armory. After passing several security checks, he entered a room lined with suits of armor, each glowing with its own unique energy.

First was Flame Salamander, followed by Wind Zephyr, the second armor he had built. His third, made from Terranite, bore the name Onyx. Two more suits stood beside them, each representing another elemental metal he worked on. With a flick of his hand, he called his armor over. The parts quickly connected to his silvergrace suit. Once his helmet was on, he activated his spatial storage, sucking in all his creations as he was unsure what troubles he would be facing.

Time was of the essence as what was likely the beginning of the culling unfolded. While the sirens blared throughout the dungeon, the regular citizens of Albrook remained unaware. Roland had refrained from alerting the populace. This responsibility lay with Arthur. As the lord of the city, it was his duty to take charge and defend it.

Roland, though considered Arthur’s right-hand man or even his partner, had no authority to command the city’s residents to return to their homes. That responsibility belonged to the city's ruler, not to him. Instead, he headed toward Arthur’s estate to inform him of what was happening in the dungeon.

‘I can’t use the gate. It needs to be ready for the evacuation.’

He thought to himself as he stepped into the elevator and ascended to the top floor. There was only one gate in the city, and he could not afford to clog it up when people needed it to escape. The gate had a limited number of uses per day. If overused, it would overheat and break beyond repair. For this reason, he chose a different approach. He would use the new flight unit he had designed.

Once he was outside, he activated his spatial storage. Runes on his back started glowing and from within his armor, a metallic contraption unfolded. Segments of polished metal clicked into place as the flight unit emerged, seamlessly integrating with his runic mithril armor.

With a sharp hiss, the wings extended; they were broad, sleek, and lined with shimmering runes that pulsed in sync with his breathing. They resembled the wings of an airplane, made of reinforced alloy and layered with runic circuitry. Soon a surge of energy was sent to the thrusters.

His previous design was better suited for both combat and flight. It allowed him to stand on it while casting spells and even wielding his weapons. However, it was too distinctive and closely tied to his past crime of aiding Robert and Lucille’s escape. To avoid drawing attention, he had created an alternative device. This new model resembled a jetpack with wings, making it far less recognizable.

“Looks like the calibration is perfect, let’s go.”

Without hesitation, Roland engaged the flight runes fully. A powerful burst of wind erupted from beneath him as he shot into the sky, leaving a faint contrail of blue mana in his wake. The city of Albrook stretched beneath him, its buildings and streets bathed in the soft morning light.

He angled his wings slightly, adjusting his trajectory toward Arthur’s estate. The unit responded instantly, shifting his flight path with minimal effort. This was the culmination of months of research, refinement, and testing, his very own jetpack, but powered by pure runic engineering.

As he soared above the rooftops, the urgency of the situation weighed on him. Whatever had taken out the golem had done so with terrifying speed. The tunnels were a known danger and this confirmed what he had been afraid of. Luckily, the constant siphoning of mana for many months would give them some time, time to prepare and defend their region with minimal casualties.

‘We don’t have much time. Arthur needs to mobilize the knights, and I need to prepare the defenses.’

His wings adjusted once more, sending him hurtling forward at breakneck speed. The battle was coming, and Roland intended to meet it head-on.