The Runic Alchemist

"That is... balls..." Sam muttered, staring at the blazing forest where everything swirled within a tornado—stones, tree branches, even the lifeless bodies of people and monsters.

"That's one hell of a nightmare to be stuck in," Einar agreed, while Yovan shaded his eyes, squinting to see further into the chaotic scene.

"How in the world...? You're still controlling it from here?" he exclaimed in disbelief. "This is way beyond anything a second-ranker mage should be capable of... Your powers make no sense.."

"Go help the injured," Damian ordered, unfazed by their awe. "And tell them to gather everyone in the open so I can start drawing the runes." Damian said, they were just commenting on his actions anyways. There were things to be done.

Damian had already relinquished control over the tornadoes after directing them briefly, knowing even he couldn't maintain such a spell over that distance. But the spells had served their purpose, halting the battle long enough for his allies to safely retreat and aid their wounded. The Ashenvale troops, equally battered, in worse condition than them had retreated into the depths of the forest, regrouping to assess their heavy losses. If not for Damian's heavy spells, Ashenvale's sheer numbers could have gradually gained ground, closing in on the valley's entrance and trapping them in with the blazing elephant. But now, both sides faced a do-or-die moment as they braced for one last assault once the flames and winds subsided.

The Eldoris and beastmen forces had suffered as well, though they retained around six captains and four second-rank beastmen, with roughly 500-600 survivors among mundanes and first-rankers. Ashenvale, with its larger numbers, still boasted over 1,000 troops, including a considerable number of first-rankers and five to seven second-ranker captains who had joined after Damian left the fray. Ashenvale had quantity, but they had quality. Yet, not all second-rankers could fend off dozens of first-rankers and mundanes at once; even the strongest warriors had human limits.

Once all their forces had retreated into the valley, Damian finally relaxed his mana sense and joined them. He began drawing runic circles on the ground with a stick, his unit—which were in better shape than most—following close behind, holding mana dust that glowed a faint yellow. The captains, who had gathered their injured in the open as Damian requested, stood to the side, many nursing their own wounds but still alert as they watched him work while resting under the tree.

"Bastard can heal, too," one of the captains murmured.

"And those unreal spells..." the young blonde captain added.

"Unparalleled speed..." added another.

"No way he's just a first-ranker," muttered a second ranker beastman warrior, incredulous. The assembled second-rankers had come to respect one another's strengths, and most were gathered here, even Kazak, who was seated on the ground, bloodied but triumphant. He had claimed the most lives among them, earning recognition from the human captains. Royce had to admit that Kazak was the strongest among them if they didn't count the enigma that was Maximus.

"Could be a prestigious job holder?" the old captain Loydel speculated.

"What kind of job covers everything from weapons and magic to pugilist-level endurance?" another captain questioned.

Damian performed the healing spell, activating the runes on the ground and tending to groups of wounded to okay standards with heavy focus, conserving every bit of mana from the golden dust. The second-rankers watched in silence, each absorbed in their thoughts.

"Say what you want, I'm just glad we have a goddamn healer," one beastman murmured, his voice thick with emotion as he watched comrades he'd assumed lost regain consciousness in front of him.

"Bastard's killed hundreds and even saved hundreds... There's no way the royals haven't claimed him already. That's a freaking talent if I've ever seen one.."

"They must have. Even the commander forgave him for killing the Lord of Pyron." The beastmen raised their eyebrows at this news, though no one probed further.

"The Darkwood heir, I have seen him—called a generational talent because of his prestigious job—couldn't hold a candle to this guy. He'd outmatch five of him on any day," remarked another captain that had a good noble background.

"And House Darkwood sought the princess's hand on this merit alone. I bet Maximus will be adopted into royalty in no time, I'd support it, though the thought of outsiders mingling with Eldorian noble and divine blood usually unsettles me. But for him, I'd make an exception," one noble-born captain added. His statement carried weight, and the others stared, surprised by his praise for Damian.

Their conversation ceased as Damian and his three vice-captains approached the resting group. Without a word, Damian drew a smaller version of the healing circle he'd made earlier and began tending to their worst injuries. No one protested as he asked and treated their worst wounds, easing the most severe cases into a manageable state. Once their condition improved, Damian started the discussion,

"They're regrouping. We have to bring everything we've got into one final confrontation. Either we finish them off or weaken them enough that they can't pursue us into the forest with our refugees."

Everyone nodded solemnly; Sam had already conveyed Damian's plan, and it was their only option to save everyone, Damian was glad to see no one hesitated or talked about retreating, leaving the beastmen people behind. The tremors were growing more frequent, and the ominous rumbling in the valley from the giant monstrosity grew louder. They just could not risk the valley entrance being blocked before they escaped under the cover of night.

"We still have some young warriors in reserve," an elder beastman noted. "They're not the best..."

"They can at least help contain the mundanes," Kazak replied. Royce and Damian nodded in agreement.

"We have barely half an hour, let's prepare our people.." Damian announced as he felt drops of rain start to fall. Looking up, he saw dark clouds gathering overhead, soon unleashing a steady downpour. "Well, even less if this deals with my fire.."

The captains exchanged glances, unsure whether to laugh or cry at the timing—it felt as though the gods themselves were urging them to get on with it.