The Runic Alchemist

Before she could land, darkness spilling from her like a shroud over everything, Moondancer unleashed massive spears, which rained down near Damian and Vidalia's group. Some even struck her own people. Most of the combatants stayed out of her range, and the rest hastily cleared the area before she could touch down.

Damian had three spells prepped and ready, but cursed his fortune that none of them were the wormhole spell. He wasn't even sure how many of those he had left anymore, he certainly had used more than he intended to, given how recklessly he'd been using them.

The first spell had five runic circles—three for water shields and two for water blades. Seeing Vidalia was too far away to protect him from the larger attacks, Damian activated all three shields, increasing their size and layering them for extra defense. They held an excess of mana, far more than necessary, making them remarkably sturdy.

The water blades, in turn, he used to deflect incoming spears from within the safety of his shield, or to strike at the place in the darkness where he heard Moondancer's voice. But this wasn't the most effective use of them. The blades, infused with additional mana, had grown in size and solidity, and could contend with the massive spears when combined.

Just as Damian felt confident that he could draw a wormhole runic circle and reach Vidalia within seconds, a figure shot out of the darkness, as though spat from it—Moondancer, plummeting from the sky. She didn't seem to care about her descent, her eyes fixed instead on the small solidified water orbs that lay around Damian.

Both of her hands were raised, connecting a trail of smoke above her to a massive cloud of abyssal shadows.

Damian realized her intent at that moment and cursed out loud. The cloud split in two, and from it emerged a colossal blade of pure darkness, descending upon him at terrifying speed. Moondancer didn't just want to break his defense—she intended to bury him hundreds of feet underground.

'Holy mother of Jesus... The waste of precious mana these people engage in... Have they no shame?' Damian thought bitterly as he glanced back at Vidalia. She was still a distance away, fighting off waves of enemies. Without her, their group would have been dead ten times over.

At least the spears had scared off anyone trying to approach him, but without them he could not get his hands on the waygate tool. Should he risk using it now? His mana reserves were low, and draining Vidalia's would leave them defenseless. Plus, he had no idea how the tool worked.

If he somehow teleported himself with low mana and incomplete knowledge into a third dimension or something equally bizarre, it would be a disaster. He'd already messed up one massive spell—no need to risk another, especially with his paltry 3 LUC stat.

"Well, old-school defense it is," Damian muttered. He powered down the barriers as the massive sword of darkness loomed closer with every second. Standing alone in an open pocket of space in the middle of the Ashenvale camp, Damian gazed up at the blackened sky. It was already ominous before, but now it was downright terrifying.

'Vidalia, I'm going to need a lot of mana...'

'What are you doing? Chant your wormhole spell and get over here!'

'Can't. It's too fast.'

'Wait, I'll fly over—'

'You won't make it in time.'

'What are you waiting for then? Run, you idiot!'

'No, not today... I need to burn a bitch first...'

Damian exhaled, extending his arm to the side. In seconds, with a flash of white light, a fiery red spear materialized in his hand, settling perfectly into his grip. He spun it in deliberate circles, feeling the air part as the weapon's blazing tip sliced through it. His movements were precise, controlled, as if every inch of the spear obeyed his will.

Flipping the spear behind his back in one fluid motion, he caught it with his other hand in a seamless transition.

Damian pointed the spear's flaming tip at the blackened sky and poured all his mana into a thread he'd found deep within the weapon that activated it's flames. The flames slowly grew, swelling in size and intensity as he channeled more mana into it. The spear transformed into a pillar of fire, thousands of degrees hot, shooting upward to meet the descending blade of darkness.

The fiery pillar, now more than 10 meters in radius, clashed with the massive sword of shadow, halting its downward plunge for a brief moment before it began to press down again, its weight overwhelming.

Moondancer screamed, feral and wild, increasing the weight of the sword further. Damian couldn't contend with a third-ranker's mana output with his hands alone, so he formed additional mana threads, over 20 of them, from all over his body, each connecting to his spear, funneling mana at a rapid pace. He drained Vidalia's mana reserves without hesitation.

The spell itself was simple, requiring little mana to maintain the fire, but Damian could amplify its power by feeding more into it. It was far more efficient than Vidalia's spells, which wasted massive amounts of mana just to activate and offered little flexibility after casting.

The strain of controlling over 20 mana threads took its toll. Blood dripped from Damian's mouth and eyes as the effort mounted, his head felt like it was tearing itself apart. But instead of backing down, he pushed through his limits, forcing more mana into the spell. The massive sword stopped, and slowly—agonizingly—it began to retreat.

Her darkness was particularly vulnerable to magical flames, and the sword was already burning. Damian's pillar of fire soon enveloped Moondancer, scorching her and reaching the cloud behind her. His flames burned through the shadow cloud itself, creating a hole in the dark expanse and allowing a few rays of daylight to break through and illuminate the battlefield.

At the center of it all stood Damian, bloodied and exhausted, but with a nasty smile, getting success in achieving his goal.

"Take that, you annoying bitch..." he spat, wiping the blood from his face.