Runeblade-Chapter 252B2 : Watchers in the Wings, pt. 1

**Ding! You have been afflicted by Gravebound Slumber - Poison, Dream, Tier 2**

Kaius stared down at the dart in his chest, struggling to process what it was doing there.

It was a small thing—really just a weighted needle with a few fins to stabilise it in flight.

Then he noticed the creeping numbness that was slowly seeping across his chest—a circle barely a thumb width wide. It was joined by an insidious fatigue—one that felt soft and comfortable, fuzzing the edge of his senses.

Horror dawned, a yawning pit in his stomach opening as his mind caught up to the reality of the situation.

“Shit! Ambush!” Kaius screamed, knocking the dart from his skin.

His eyes snapped up to Ianmus—just in time to watch the mage suddenly collapse.

Furious rage bellowed from behind him, Porkchop having enough Vitality that the poison was struggling to bring him down quickly.

Despite scanning his surroundings, Kaius saw no sight of their ambushers. That was good—they still had a chance. If they were lucky, the shot had been taken from range, and they hadn’t expected them to be able to handle their toxin.

His hand dropped to his belt pouch, ripping out the medallion that Rieker had given them for this very eventuality.

Before he could channel the mana to activate the enchantment, he felt the smooth disk of metal rip free of his hands—catching the sun as its twisted and deformed surface spun through the air.

Right off the edge of the plateau.

“Fuck!” he swore. They had an archer. A good one.

Kaius grit his teeth and ran, struggling against the liquid weight that pressed down on his muscles. A quick glance showed Porkchop listing, confused at his sudden intoxication.

“Behind me, now! We need to use your shield as a stretcher.” he demanded, still sprinting for Ianmus’s prone form. He felt Porkchop steeling himself through their bond—he listened without question, taking off at an ambling run.

Reaching the base of the stone wall that surrounded the plateau, Kaius jumped at a full sprint. Sailing through the air, he just grabbed a hand hold that jutted out below the ledge that Ianmus was lying on insensate.

A single heave brought him up, landing on his feet. Instantly, he saw that Ianmus had his own dart—sticking straight out of his shoulder.

Ripping it free, Kaius swooped the gangly man over his shoulder, grabbing their spatial bag nestled at the back of the outcropping in the same motion.

There was more up there—their tent, and a pile of other belongings that didn’t quite fit in their stores. He left it.

There was no time.

Refusing to wait for a second volley, Kaius leapt down, bleeding off the force of his landing with bent knees.

Porkchop was waiting for him, his greatshield hovering horizontal at his side—inverted so that Ianmus could rest in its concave depression.

“Where now?” Porkchop asked, his eyes hard but slightly glassy.

“The portal, as fast as we can.” Kaius replied, roughly dumping Ianmus in his stretcher. The shield bobbed under the mage’s weight, but held.

Their worst fears had been realised, and an escape into the Depths was by far their best shot. Whoever had come for them was powerful and well connected—they needed to be if they had used a tier two toxin. 𝑅à₦𝖔ꞖĚṤ

Fuck.

With the affliction having Dream affinity, he didn’t have a full resistance, and even if he did he had no confidence in his skill being able to fight it off before he succumbed.

The clock was ticking.

They ran.

Mid step, he ripped open his potion pouch, downing a tonic for each of his resources before he tossed another trio to his brother.

Porkchop was listing—almost stumbling from the effects of the poison that coursed through his veins, but he was still plenty fast. Even then, Kaius could feel the slowly creeping exhaustion that was building in his brother’s body.

His brother still had enough wherewithal to snatch the bottles out of the air. They shattered between his jade teeth, glass ignored as it cut deep into Porkchop’s cheeks and gums.

“More. Health and Stamina.” Porkchop demanded.

Kaius ripped them out of his pouch and sent them flying, two more potions shattering in his brother’s mouth.

He could feel the exhaustion of his own affliction. Rapid Adaptation burned like wildfire, but the toxin was too strong, and too unfamiliar.

The best he was doing was slowing its encroachment, but he knew he would be consumed all the same. It was inevitable.

Thankfully it was a gradual process—they could make it to the portal, even if his leaden eyes and clouded mind made it feel like he’d been up for a day straight.

Halfway across the plateau, he noticed something atop the monoliths that surrounded the glowing ring of their salvation. It wasn’t even a blur, just a certainty from Truesight that something had just moved. A pervasive feeling that he was being lied to.

Not for the first time, he blessed his fortunes at having had access to such a valuable Legacy.

He felt the patches of wrongness drop down in front of the portal, even if the coast looked clear.

“Attackers guarding the portal, Shardwall on my mark.” Kaius said through beast speak, refusing to give their mysterious visitors any indication of their plans.

A flood of determined acceptance crossed their bond. Leaning into the connection deeply, Kaius fed his brother every sense he had of where their targets were waiting. The growing sense of falsity was still—waiting just a half dozen strides in front of their escape.

He grit his teeth, pretending nothing was wrong as he sprinted onwards.

It couldn’t be too early—they had one shot at surprising their ambushers, and even if they were out leveled all they needed was to break through their line. The less time they had to react, the better.

The distance shrunk with every step.

Fifty strides.

Thirty.

The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

Twelve.

“Now!”

Porkchop feinted a stumble, driving his front claw into the red rock of the plateau. Sharped jade slid home with ease, his pace correcting with the fluid motion of practice as he ripped his paw free of the earth.

Sacred Jade erupted—seven strides high, by fifteen long, the skill having grown with the levels that had come with their most recent training.

Racing forward with the grinding crash of tortured stone, the Shardwall accelerated straight for the group that he knew to be waiting for them.

Kaius heard a curse, and their targets reacted—dashing away from the approaching skill.

His arms might have felt like lead, and his heart might have raced like he’d been running for a full day, but when an indistinct patch of lies shot straight for him, Kaius was ready.

With an iron grip on his will, he ripped at his stamina and mana, pushing both resources into his blade.

With the levels he had gained, and the potions he had consumed, his resources were doing just fine—all of them above four fifths of their total. His spells? Less great, he’d spent more than half of the casts he’d prepared for each one.

As Kaius raised his blade high, light burned within his sword—a sheath of arcane joined by the burning light of his blade's enchantments.

He cut.

The shroud of sensed lies shattered. In its place was a weathered man—his skin cracked by age—who was cloaked in a heavy set of inscribed black splintmail.

A colossal greatsword in hand, the man swung, catching Kaius’s slash in a textbook rising block.

Pressing hard against the attacker, Kaius grunted as his back and arms ached with the pain of exertion. He was strong, but the other man was stronger—and he knew it.

Caught in a bind, Kaius analyzed the man—hoping to learn anything he could.

Only for his probe to shatter helplessly against the man’s Mask, barely gleaning anything.

Human - ????

????, ????

Whoever they were, they were strong.

The swordsman smirked, lips parting to reveal yellowed teeth.

Kaius ignored the taunt. Mystic’s Rend detonated—the expulsion of raw arcane forcing his opponents greatsword back a hair, breaking their bind. A corrosive wave washed over his opponent, causing the swordsman to grunt in frustration as it scorched his flesh.

It was the opening he needed. With a flick of his wrist, he pulled the greatsword off centre, levering against the swordsman’s strength to slip into a stab that raced for the man’s throat.

The swordman’s grin faltered, and he blurred into motion. Relying on the heft of his weapon, he smashed Kaius’s blade aside—countering with a hacking blow of his own.

“Fiesty one, aren’t ya?” the swordsman spat.

Kaius only lunged in—another wire of arcane infusing on the edge of his blade.

Aborting his attack, the swordsman backed up out of range—leery of his skill.

Rather than press the opening, Kaius raced away.

He had to get to Porkchop before they were hemmed in. The portal was all that mattered.

His brother was already fighting—two more figures dancing around him to capitalise on his clumsy weakness. One a black haired rogue with a pair of daggers, the other a masked woman with flaxen hair pelting him from further afield with arrows.

Porkchop wasn’t letting them off easy. A shardwall erupted, blocking the archer’s view before he explosively launched forwards.

Only for the black hair man’s daggers to glow with internal light. He plunged them deep into Porkchop’s back thigh, stopping his charge dead—somehow.

And yet, for all their aggression they ignored Ianmus—there was only one good reason for that, they wanted them alive.

Kaius couldn’t let them stall for time—even if each of their opponents was stronger than them.

Before he could come to his brother’s assistance, the grizzled swordsman blurred infront of him, forcing Kaius to come to a skidding halt lest he get skewered by a cleaving stroke of the bruiser’s sword.

Diagonally to his left, a final figure appeared. Short and thin, with a staff taller than he was, a mage wove a stream of glowing mana.

Kaius’s eyes widened. A full team—whoever wanted them was taking no chances. Worse, the construct the mage was casting was growing by the second. It had already reached a terrifying potency, he needed that man gone.

He lunged for the caster—only to lunge back as a blurring stab from the swordsman carved a thin line across the surface of his stomach. Pulling his blade back with a flick, the wrinkled warrior wove a tight flurry—some sort of skill causing a dozen duplicates of his blade to appear.

Even with Truesight, it was impossible keep track of. If he hadn’t already been certain that this team drastically outlevelled him, he was now.

Cursing under his breath, Kaius abandoned any hope of parrying the attack, kicking off the ground in an attempt to create space.

Only his reactions were too slow—the progressive creep of his affliction leaving his muscles weak and placid.

Pain exploded through his chest as the bruiser’s greatsword tore through the tattered remnants of his chest plate and severed his pectoral.

Swallowing a gasp, Kaius allowed the force of the swing to spin him and used the momentum to thrust straight for the warrior’s eye. It was a perfect counter—fast and on target, and perfectly timed to slip over the swordsman's guard.

His opponent only grunted—racing away in a flash of mana to avoid the blow.

Away from the mage, who was left undefended only a few long-strides away with his spell still moments from completion.

Kaius moved without hesitation, burning a charge of Slip Step to close the gap as fast as he could—his eyes promising a violent end to the mage who had dared to confront him.

The mage panicked—unleashing his spell early.

An uncontrolled wall of fire erupted between Kaius and his target—hot enough he felt his hair curling.

He didn’t care—not with the fury that roared within him. Why did it have to be this way? Why couldn’t skills just be shared openly, rather than coveted and killed over.

Stubborn in his pursuit, Kaius pushed on. Fire was one of his oldest resistances. He’d live, even if his defence wouldn’t be as strong as it was against an affliction — especially since the mage had cast his spell early and the magic fueling the blaze was flickering and inconsistent.

A burst of force exploded at his back, shunting him forwards as glyphs flared within his blade and a wire of arcane burned at its edge.

He flew straight into the conflagration, sword point leveled at the exact point he knew the mage to be.

The flames cared little for his wants—scorching ire blackening his flesh. It hurt, more than almost anything he had felt—feeling his charred skin blister and curl, the flesh underneath sizzling.

Then he was out the other side, quick enough that his burns—even if all consuming—were only skin deep.

Without the radiance of flames obscuring his sight, the first thing he saw was the mage backing up. Unfortunately for him, he was far too slow to escape.

Kaius’s blade caught him in the throat—punching straight through the delicate flesh to erupt from his spine.

Time seemed to slow. Kaius stared deep into the mage's eyes. Seeing the fear there, the confusion. Just how little the man could comprehend his own end—couldn’t grapple with the strides of steel buried in his flesh.

For a fleeting moment, Kaius felt the heavy weight of guilt.

He’d never killed a man before.

Then Mystic’s Rend detonated.

The mage’s head flew free. Blood, viscera, and shards of bone splattered in every direction, a good portion of the gore stinging painfully as it stuck to his slowly healing burns.

**Ding! level 204 Human - Immolation Mage (Tier 2) slain - Experience Gained! Increased Experience for slaying a foe of Significant Strength!**

**Ding! Significant Feat of Strength performed under Observation. You have been awarded an Honour: Ruthless Underdog III**

**Ding! Runeblade Initiate has reached class level 95!**

**+3 End, Str, & Int, +2 Dex, Wil, +1 Vit, Free - from Class & Racial Traits!**

…

**Ding! Runeblade Initiate has reached class level 106!**

**+3 End, Str, & Int, +2 Dex, Wil, +1 Vit, Free - from Class & Racial Traits!**

**Ding! Class skill available for selection!**

Kaius stared at the notifications mutely, horror slowly rising as he took in the level of the mage he had just taken off-guard. At the fact that he’d just killed a man.

His chest heaved—the exertion of battle only hastening the progress of the poison that slowly sapped his strength. With every movement, fluid sodden clothes stuck to his raw flesh. It was a stinging bite that mingled with the roiling itch that covered him from head to toe—his Health plummeting as he recovered.

He could think about it later. They needed to get through that portal—he’d been just about the worst match up possible for that mage, and had far less confidence against the rest of the ambushers.

Dashing away, he raced towards Porkchop, eyes roaming as he searched for the swordsman.

Pain exploded just above his left hip—a stride of steel erupting from his stomach.

Ah.

That’s where he was.