The Runic Alchemist

With the guest room overcrowded, Sam was sleeping in his own room. When Damian returned to retrieve his cloak, he saw Sam sleeping peacefully.

He would go on to fight the Ashenvale people, even if he left tomorrow. And knowing Sam as he did, Damian was certain he wouldn't follow any unnecessary strategic postings, such as protecting certain strategic regions or launching a head-on charge against Ashenvale. Sam had said it himself: he wanted to protect.

Most likely, he would end up fighting the hidden forces of Ashenvale alone, trying to prevent attacks on villages. He might even succeed for a while, but sooner or later, with Ashenvale troops everywhere, armed with strange tools and weapons, Sam would face something far beyond his ability to handle.

He would die.

Damian donned his cloak and left the room, heading straight for Vidalia's place. It was time to select his rewards—finally, something good coming from associating with filthy rich nobles.

Vidalia was in one of her rooms on the third floor, essentially her office. It had the same layout as her previous places. This time, Damian chose to walk there instead of climbing through her window, giving her enough time to sense his presence and avoid hurling random spells at him. As always, he needed no directions, and no one stopped him.

"Hmm, take a seat," she said, her head buried in paperwork as he entered.

Damian sat down in front of her, an elegantly crafted table between them, she was writing on her documents. He remained silent, and so did she, the sound of her scribbling filling the room.

"Have you decided?" she finally asked without even looking up. Enjoy exclusive content from m-v l'e|m,p-y r

"Did you know, back in my world, I was a student?" Damian said, Vidalia paused her writing and looked up at him. "I was learning, studying, trying to understand things that were pretty difficult—By this world's definition, I was a scholar."

She raised an eyebrow as he continued. "Your world is all about personal power because you don't know anything else. In my world, the ones with wisdom and knowledge were the ones who ruled. When you let soldiers decide the future, they either build defenses, always expecting conflict, or they create weapons of mass destruction, fearing an attack from others so they can destroy them first."

"No one will follow the unworthy," she replied.

"That's why the worthy must follow those most suited to rule. You, of all people, understand that, which is why I'm even talking to you," Damian said, looking straight into her eyes. "I innovate. I create. I seek to understand the mysteries of this world and use its laws better. I hope to make life easier, more comfortable, and more enjoyable for the people here."

Her eyes widened slightly, a rare expression of surprise on her otherwise perfect face.

"In short, No, I will not fight for you. I will not kill for you. But I will do what I consider necessary or acceptable," Damian said, lowering his gaze from her striking emerald eyes to the table—a subtle acknowledgment of the shift in their relationship. "I will protect."

Vidalia chuckled softly, catching Damian completely off guard. It was rare to see her smile, let alone laugh.

"What?" he asked, feeling a bit offended.

"Apologies," she said with a genuine smile, not the courteous one she often showed others. "It's just… people spend their whole lives trying to attain even a fraction of the potential you have. They scheme for it, gamble for it, fight, and even kill for it. Yet here you are, trying so hard to deny what you're clearly so good at."

She had misunderstood him.

"Don't mistake this for humility," Damian said seriously. "I refuse to fight because I can't bear the waste of life for a meaningless cause. I don't even know what I would do if I saw such things with my own eyes. I'm afraid of what it would do to me."

Her expression turned serious as well, and she nodded, she knew he was not lying. Just as she knew what he had done to Threadripper and tried to do to Moondancer for destroying what he considered a place filled with good people.

"Hm… Fine. You're young. Talks of loyalty are meaningless until you've seen more of the world and understand how it works. It wasn't really a negotiable offer, but I'll accept it. I won't order you to fight for me. However, you must stay here until this situation ends.

If you don't want to fight, choose another task you can perform for the army. Tristan will gather the captains one last time before we leave. See what needs to be done then."

Damian nodded. After a prolonged silence, he added, "I'll need a mana contract for that, too."

Vidalia squinted at him. "Of course you would."

Her face returning to its usual blank expression, she removed a ring from her finger and crushed it in her hand. It took Damian a second to realize what was happening before he felt the collar around his neck click open and fall into his hands. He had grown so used to it, and with the threat it posed almost nonexistent, he had forgotten about it.

Though, the plan to block the spell with an invisible barrier could have damaged his soul, so it was a good thing to be rid of it.

"Here," she said, sliding an army badge across the table—the same kind Damian had seen with Sam and the others. But unlike theirs, his was gold instead of silver, with the same runic symbols etched into its surface.

"Why is it gold? Shouldn't it be silver?" Damian asked, flipping the badge over repeatedly to inspect it.

"Those are for soldiers. You're a captain. Your strength earns you that much. I've also added enough credits to your account for you to request whatever you like in exchange. Here's the noble's credit exchange list. We only have weapons here, and even those in limited quantity, for everything else, you'll have to wait until we return."

Damian nodded. He wanted to activate the runes by pouring his mana into them and using his will, but that would also reveal his status window—something he preferred to keep private.