Runeblade

The droplet gleamed, swirling light flickering through Kenva’s grip. It seemed to almost breathe, beckoning them closer.

Reading its description, Kaius knew it would change everything.

The benefits of Aspects were relatively slight by themselves. Sure, they were broad spanning, but they didn’t scale — not that he’d seen so far. The possibility they represented was barely known. How many had withstood a Crucible? Learned that they were the start of a Path that led to godhood?

Not many. A fact that had no doubt made their absence palatable to the old guard, and the true powers of the world.

Especially with word of Honours spreading. Those were practically a raging bonfire, enticing all. Sure, they were easier to acquire the earlier you started, but the benefits they provided were undeniable — a compounding advantage in raw strength, plus a growing collection of admittedly minute passive effects.

Fighting the Tyrant had demolished any lingering sentiment that Aspects were a minor boon. Without them, they would have been totally at the Tyrant’s mercy. Crippled by its Authority, and scalded by its Essence, Kaius couldn’t see any way they would have been able to compete.

When knowledge of their capabilities spread, cultivating warriors with completed Aspects would become vital — the goal of any established power.

And now this. A single crystal, promising to wash away the sins of the world's prodigies — their gall to be born just a little too early. A path to more strength, to more capability, and, once word spread, to potential immortality.

Did Kenva realise she might just be holding the most valuable object in the world? She must, her eyes kept flicking to it like she didn’t know whether to cradle it or fling it away.

“Fuck,” Kaius whispered.

Judging by the pale faces of everyone else in the room, they’d reached the same conclusion he had.

Tyrants weren’t just a threat. They were a resource — one people will fight over; one that would draw all the oldest monsters from their hidden sanctums and lost grottos.

“Aye,” Rieker said, staring at the crystal, “Fuck indeed.”

“It’s definitely going to get messy,” Ro replied, her voice resigned. “We won’t be able to keep something like this a secret. Rieker’s a guildmaster, it’ll be taken as a violation of neutrality if the guild suppresses it.”

Rieker winced, though he showed no sign of disagreeing. “My quickly approaching leave of absence suddenly seems even more palatable — this is going to be a shitshow. The only reason we managed to brute force the spread of Honours and Legacy Skills is that they are technically available to all. This… is not.”

“The Wyvern of Golden Bones,” Arc added in a hush. A fable Jekkar, the lead hunter of Threefields, had told Kaius — one where a dozen knights slaughtered each other for the right to hunt the valuable creature, only for the last to be immediately overwhelmed when they fought it alone. It was… shockingly applicable.

Either the Tyrants would be so numerous that they would need the old and powerful to assist, or they would be rare enough that the powers of the world would covet them.

What would happen, if men as strong as the Castellan had fought over the Tyrant? Deadacre itself might have ended up as collateral damage. Kaius could only hope that even the most jealous and hungry of men would balk at spilling the blood of innocents. A hopeful thought, but Kaius had spent too long under the thumb of Old Yon to believe that without doubt.

His one vain hope that they’d be able to slow the fires of change evaporated.

“There was only one?” Ianmus asked pointedly. If there was a potential for more, it might lessen the turmoil.

Kenva hesitated, “Yes, but I'm not sure if it's a given. I only noticed it because I saw its energies coalescing with Farseer. Once the crystal formed, there were still some dregs left over. They started to gather, but dissipated before another could form.”

Porkchop grunted and shifted slightly, though he was cautious to avoid knocking one of the cots with his bulk. Even constraining his full size, he was still stockier than a bear — it was a tight fit.

“Perhaps it is a matter of strength,” Porkchop replied, “Many creatures have components rich in magic that grow stronger or more numerous as they age and grow. I am not so certain that these Tyrants are a static threat. If they can grow to higher tiers, I wouldn’t be surprised if they spawn more of these crystals.”

“This one is not sure if they would have the opportunity to do so. They are a dire threat, and their influence on beasts is far too noticeable." Arc replied, drumming his fingers on his knee.

“We can’t be sure of that,” Kaius replied. “We know too little — it’s possible other Tyrants command only small numbers of powerful beasts, or none at all. Something like that could easily be missed. Even if they’re aggressive, they could masquerade as powerful beasts.”

It had been a lingering thought. Communication across Vaastivar was slow, but with how obvious the sudden displacement of beasts had been, they should have heard of other cases. He didn’t believe for a second that there was currently only a single Tyrant.

This tale has been unlawfully obtained from NovelFire. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.

There was another clue in the class that Purpose in Duty had held. Tyrant of the Enthralling Pyre. It spoke to the chains of control that had gripped the horde. If it was a function of its class, he doubted it would be universal. At least, the degree and style of control might change.

As for if stronger Tyrants would appear? It would surprise him if they didn’t, no matter the dark dread such thoughts brought with them. Ekum had all but stated outright that from the second phase of the integration, things would grow continually more dangerous. Future advancements of the phase might accelerate things, but completing the integration was the only way out.

Ro sighed, drawing the room's attention.

“Regardless of the questions that remain about Tyrants, the lot of you are avoiding something more pressing,” she said, before nodding at the crystal in Kenva’s grip. “Which one of you gets it?”

Silence fell over the room.

It had been on his mind of course, but he hadn’t known how to bring it up. Allocation was much easier when it was just him and his team — It went to whoever needed it most, or it went into their collective pool of valuables.

The droplet couldn’t be shared, and they couldn’t exactly buy each other out. Its value was incalculable.

“I’m not taking it,” Rieker said grouchily. “My soul is damaged — I'd be a fool to mess with it, and it’s far too valuable for me to hold on to until I'm recovered”

Kaius felt like groaning — of course holding on to the crystal was a terrible idea. If anyone discovered that they had one, it would paint a massive target on their backs. Worse, it wouldn’t even be too hard to discover. If neither Arc nor Rieker started gaining Aspects, then they would be the sole remaining option. If the limitations were known — that they should only be used when one reached the ends of their capability — then he doubted it would be believed they’d already used it. They were having no trouble Refining as it stood.

“Arc should have it,” he said resolutely.

“Agreed,” Porkchop added with a nod. To Kaius’s surprise, so did Kenva and Ianmus.

“What?” Kenva said, seeing his look. “It’s the option that makes the most sense. All of us have proven skilled enough that it will be a long while before our Refinement is constrained by our ability, and it’s a waste to let it linger in our storage rings.”

“That, and we’re leaving the Frontier,” Ianmus added, “Rieker is injured, and while I trust the guild, Arc’s honour and sense of duty is legendary. He’s perfectly positioned to serve as a deterrent to future threats to Deadacre and Grandbrook.”

Arc looked at them in shock. He clasped his hands, almost pleading. “This…this is too much. This one cannot accept.”

Kaius looked the Gold in the eyes, seeing the warring indecision that was held within their depths. Almost unconsciously, Arc tugged at one of the horns that sprouted from the bone plating that covered his head.

“We’re not taking it, Arc,” Kaius said firmly.

Arc paused for a moment, before he sighed in resignation. “Then this one can only accept, and swear that he will endeavour to shelter the good people of this land. This one’s ascension to Platinum must yet wait, it seems.”

Rieker sat up straighter, his cot squeaking under his weight as he raised one brow. “You made it?”

“This one’s road has been long, but the Tyrant’s demise pushed him to the terminus.”

Kaius hissed; he’d known Arc was close to the third tier, but not that close.

“You might be waiting a while,” Porkchop warned him. “It took almost a year to ignite our Aspects, and there’s no way to know if you will be swifter due to your experience, or slower due to requiring the droplet. From there, you’ll need to find a suitable Crucible, and walk its path to the very end. As for refinement… we have no idea how long that will take, we’ve only just started it ourselves. Kaius has reached the first stage, though the rest of us will probably break through in the next day or two.”

Kaius blinked, “You will?”

His team nodded.

“I can only speak for myself, but it feels like I’ll only need to cycle for a moment or two to push it over the edge,” Ianmus said. “I plan to do it under running water,” he added after a moment’s pause, eying Kaius.

He coughed, scratching the back of his neck, before he turned his attention back to Arc.

“Regardless, even once you have fully Refined, you might still have to wait. The next step of the Path will only open with the next phase change. It’s possible there’s no downside to advancing to the third tier before that happens if you have Refined as much as you are able, but there is no guarantee.”

Arc nodded slowly, before he gingerly reached out to take the droplet from Kenva’s offered hand.

“A grand endeavour. This one will not disappoint — and this one must admit he finds the prospect of Aspects intriguing. There has been much this one has considered about themselves in recent years.”

The droplet vanished into one of the pouches Arc had belted over his heavy battle-skirt — the only item of clothing he wore.

“This one will consume the droplet once he has fully recovered from the battle, and the Tyrant’s essence has dissipated.”

Silence fell back over the room. With it, came the exhaustion that Kaius had been holding at bay. A week, nearly every waking hour spent fighting or preparing. It felt like it had been far longer, and only a few hours at the same time. They’d done it, somehow. Deadacre was safe — or as safe as it could be with a new horde of overly strong beasts settling into the surrounding lands.

Taking a step back, he leaned on the wall. Rough carved stone pressed into the back of his armour, but right then it felt as soft as a down pillow.

“What now?” he whispered.

Ro patted Rieker’s chest and smiled fondly. “We rest, and recover. Tomorrow, we mourn the fallen and begin the work of mending fractured lives. When you are ready, you prepare for your trip. Rieker and I will talk to you before then. There’s a few things you should know to smooth over your arrival to the Dukedoms, and we’ll need to send word ahead to the Baanswell branch of the guild — Guilewind gets ornery when he’s surprised.”

When Kaius opened his mouth to ask more, Rieker raised a hand to cut him off.

“She’s right, boy. You need rest — go. The guildhall was used as an operating base, so its surroundings are more intact than most in the city. The Stables will be untouched.”

He didn’t have the energy, or the reason, to argue. Making their goodbyes, they left the chapel. Faced with the devastation of the city once more, he paused for a moment. Kaius could hear laughter. A battered guard, across the street, smiling as he limped down the street with an arm over his companion.

They really had done it, hadn’t they? Saved the city.

Kaius smiled, and nodded down the street. “Come on, let’s get back to the stables.”