The Runic Alchemist

"Can beasts enter dungeons...?" Damian asked.

"Not that I know of. No one has tried... I think," Royce replied hesitantly, clearly unsure.

The giant creature moved slowly, but each of its strides covered more ground than a human could running at a decent pace, making its progress deceptively swift. It seemed focused on the dungeon, Damian doubted it could see well in such darkness, its body gave off a faint glow that wasn't enough to spot the dungeon from so far away. The creature appeared to be sensing the dungeon's mana—that same sense had guided it in hunting down Ashenvale soldiers, and how it was looking directly at them, now drawn to that unsettling dungeon man.

But why did it stop and not attack them before? If it could amplify its laser even slightly, they'd be within range. Was it sparing them again? But why? Did it remember they had helped it escape? Or was it because they had beastmen among them?

Damian recalled reading stories of some animals reacting differently to beastmen and elves, but no conclusive research had been done—just hearsay and village gossip.

"No... it can't be..." Kazak muttered, his voice almost breaking. Damian had never seen him this shaken, not even during their most desperate battle or their face-off with the Ashenvale camp, just the two of them. And it wasn't just Kazak—all the beastmen looked pale.

"Are there people in the dungeon? Why are you so worried about it?" Damian asked, but none of the beastmen replied. Their eyes were glued to the beast, their minds racing.

"It's because the dungeon is everything to them," Royce explained. Damian looked at him, seeking more answers. "The beastmen's population here is five times what a village relying solely on hunting could sustain. They trade mana stones and monster parts from the dungeon for food and other necessities, which allows them to thrive. A keen-eyed lord might've noticed, but maybe he didn't care... or maybe he knew and let it be. If so, Lord Asher is unique among nobles."

"He didn't know," Kazak said, still staring ahead. "He only accepted what we told him, not knowing us very well—that we're stronger and could hunt more efficiently." Kazak turned, his eyes resolute as if making a dangerous decision. Damian felt a chill of foreboding. "I can't let this happen... The dungeon is everything to us. I have to go."

"Are you serious? That monster could crush us like twigs! What could you possibly do against it?" Mira asked, her voice strained with emotion.

Kazak said nothing, but his expression was one of grim determination. He pulled out an enormous, ominous dark-purple mana stone from his spatial storage tool. Damian had never seen one so large—at least a meter across—and from everyone's reactions neither had anyone else.

"This was left to me by my ancestors," Kazak said, gazing at the stone. "I'm going to perform the Devourer's Rite."

Damian heard gasps and murmurs of disbelief around him, though he had no idea what it meant. "What the hell is the Devourer's Rite?"

"It's real?" Royce cried. "It can't be!"

"I thought it was just a legend my grandmother used to tell," one of the beastmen whispered, wide-eyed.

"Will someone tell me what's going on?" Damian demanded, exasperated by their cryptic reactions.

Kazak took a deep breath, his gaze steady. "High-level beastmen, especially those from the four Guardian Beast lineages, can form a mana stone within themselves. It holds condensed mana and a part of their soul. Devouring it is said to raise a beastman's rank without the need for a trial."

"Whoa! That's like a cheat item," Damian said, shocked.

"But it has a price," Royce interjected, his voice trembling. "Every shortcut to strength does. The beastman in the legends who consumed it went mad from mana corruption. High fever broke and madness consumed him little by little."

Kazak nodded. "That's true. But there's a secret my grandfather entrusted to me before leaving this world—descendants of the four great beasts can withstand the corruption... for a while at least. Long enough to accomplish a single task."

"No, Chief! You can't do this!" pleaded one of the beastmen.

"Kazak, it's too much. We can't lose you," another said desperately.

"Yes, chief. We will find another way.."

But Kazak stood firm, handing his spatial storage tool to one of the beastmen and gripping the purple mana stone with both hands. In his massive hands, it looked only the size of a baseball.

"This is madness, Kazak. It's just a dungeon! There have to be other ways for your people to survive," Damian urged, unwilling to watch Kazak walk into death's embrace.

"You don't understand—none of you do." Kazak's voice held a fierce resolve. "When we were cast out of the Beast Nation, we wandered, my ancestors and their people, I was too small to clearly remember but I do remember fire, screams and constant traveling. We stayed in village after village, but we were never part of them. We were the ones they sent to fight their monsters or do their grunt work. Our sisters and mothers were never safe from their filthy noblemen. This valley... it was more than a place to us. It gave us dignity, a chance to live with our heads held high. We made it our home, and it rewarded us. I will not let that peace be stolen from us. I won't let my people be cast out again to beg from village to village. I will never let that happen again, I am the chief.. I have to protect.."

With a final look, Kazak brought the stone to his mouth and bit down hard. Instead of shattering as normal mana stones do once crushed, the stone split in two as he consumed a piece whole. Dark-purple veins spread across his white fur, his eyes briefly flaring with a purple intensity before settling. The veins remained though, a visible reminder of the power and risk he had just taken.

He turned to Damian, his body giving an ominous mana signature that grew stronger by seconds. "I'd lost faith in humankind... Thank you for reminding me there's good in them. Some of you... are better people than even some of us. Tell my people and those children to eat well, train hard, and laugh. Laugh at the impossible—because that is life.."

With a broad smile, Kazak stepped back, then leapt off the mountainside. The drop was impossibly high, even beyond the reach of Damian's spatial magic. Damian watched as the white speck of Kazak transformed mid-air, releasing an ethereal tiger spirit, this time more tangible than before. Kazak rode it as it roared, shaking the whole valley, commanding attention. Even the massive elephant heading toward the dungeon in the distance stopped and turned.

"That fool..." Damian muttered, half in awe, half in sorrow.

However before Damian could fully process the shock, he heard more crunching sounds. He spun around to see the other beastmen, each taking a bite of the remaining mana stone that was left behind by Kazak. Instantly, dark-purple veins spread across their skin, their eyes glowing with dark intensity. They said nothing-maybe they couldn't, but the power radiating from them was undeniable—the first-rankers now bore the strength of second-ranker warriors, and the second ranker pugilist had ascended even further.

One of them tossed the spatial storage tool to Damian as the rest dropped to all fours and followed their chief, leaping down the mountain. Chapter Your:

"WHAT THE HELL...?" Damian couldn't believe how fast the situation had escalated. Both Mira and Royce's faces rivaled his own in shock.