The Runic Alchemist

An hour and 19 minutes felt excessive for drawing such a huge runic circle with the mana powder he'd collected from the runes. He was free to choose any spell he liked, yet Damian opted for the one given as an example.

It was air-element based, though its exact function remained unknown to him. Still, after looking at it for over an hour, he'd memorized it perfectly. The laughter had died down; the three judges sat riveted, their gazes fixed on his every move. He caught bits of their whispered remarks, revealing that even they didn't understand the runic language as he did. What he was doing was entirely new to them, and Damian took pleasure in their confused, frustrated comments as they tried to understand doing their best.

Once he finished the runic circle, Damian prepared himself. To avoid surprises, he used a bit of leftover mana dust to draw a small fire rune, testing if it worked correctly. The rune flared into flames as expected, lasting far longer than with mana ink. If only he could get this skill that allowed him to use mana stones as powder, it would open up a whole new branch in his runic studies.

"Okay… I'm ready," he announced, tidying up everything with 45 minutes still on the clock.

"Already…?" murmured the middle judge.

"What did he even make?" the grumpy judge huffed in frustration.

"All right, activate it," the nice one said, though she, too, seemed puzzled, unhappy about not cracking the spell from the runic structure.

Damian simply nodded, stepped out of range for safety, and said, "Activate!" loudly. The mana dust flashed blue, and his runic circle sparked to life. A whirlwind burst from it, spinning rapidly and crashing against the ceiling. The audience erupted in applause and praises, clearly impressed. But the runic circle was a bit too large for its parameters, and the spell kept generating air non-stop, pressing the ceiling harder and harder. Damian feared it might collapse on him—and the judges' wide-eyed, shocked expressions mirrored his concern. They just could not believe that the spell they themselves had assigned him had manifested so powerfully, even better than their own could have, and they couldn't even understand it.

"Stop it! Stop it!"

"It's going to break!"

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The gnomes, finally snapping out of their shock, shouted at him. Damian gave a small smile and erased part of the runic circle, dispelling the spell.

This, he realized, was both an advantage and a limitation: mana dust made for a more efficient mana source but was equally easy to destroy, unlike mana ink, which required destroying the entire parchment. This could be destroyed by even a toddler.

The stage floor beneath the runic circle had burned in its shape, with the hybrid stone-metal structure still bearing signs of damage. He noted that using this on any surface wouldn't work as good—especially dirt, which reduced efficiency by a third, although the mana quality in mana dust helped make up for that loss.

There were many limitations, but the mana dust also allowed him to perform spells well beyond his own mana reserves. To Damian, this was a worthy upgrade.

"What in the world is that rune?"

"It's so complex and small, yet packed with strange symbols to the full…"

"That was.. uhm, Impressive, I guess…"

The remarks came from the rude, grumpy, and 'nice' judges as the spell faded.

"So… did I pass?" Damian asked, the thousands of faces with no features concentrated on him were really creepy and unnerving.

"Wait for your results, strange boy…" the middle judge replied, as the judges huddled and spoke in hushed tones. The two male judges, who had initially looked down on him, now acknowledged his success, albeit begrudgingly. They debated whether or not to request his insights, with the female judge reminding them of the rules: no names, no personal discussions, not even of their language. They assumed he was from some undiscovered human tribe with a Damian, was also pretty interested in these weird creatures but knew he would get no answers from here. There certainly was a reason why all religions forbid people to talk about their trials. If they had a huge amount of data from these trials, there might be some patterns or some clue one clever researcher interested in such things might discover.

Right now scholars were too afraid to even go near the subject. If someone did, all records of such a person must have been erased from history. Because Damian was sure no one could stop people's thirst for knowledge and someone must have tried getting the answers before.

"Hmm… you performed admirably, boy," the serious judge said, raising a green approval marker.

"Yes, that will suffice," the grumpy judge echoed, acting as if it hadn't impressed him.

"A true Elder Runebreaker requires wisdom and experience to make sound decisions… I can't ignore your age here, so no," the 'nice' judge said, raising a red cross, not so nice anymore.

The audience gasped as if they were watching a reality show and this was a big twist. Damian was unfazed, though; people like her were the ones he disliked the most. His hate granted him a better insight into her type compared to other people—he could spot a fake demeanor faster than Sam's lightning moves. Her hidden frustration and contempt had not escaped his notice, though he'd chosen to ignore it unless it became an issue. That was the best way to deal with these fake posers.

"Do I pass or not?" Damian's voice deepened, his eyes flashing with a dangerous intensity.

"Yes, you do. You only need two approvals, You are an Elder Runebreaker now.." the serious judge answered, his face slightly ashen at the change in Damian's demeanor. Even the female judge who'd rejected him now avoided his gaze, a bead of sweat tracing her cheek.

"Ah..? I pass? Well, fine then. Just don't bring this uptight bitch next time." Damian shrugged, watching as the female gnome gritted her teeth and opened her mouth to retort. But Damian had already dispersed into ethereal dust, flipping her off with a smirk as he vanished. He did catch the glimpse of the other two gnomes and the audience breaking out in uncontrollable laughter behind him though, pointing at the nice lady.