A Legendary Rune Convention

Once she exited the portal in Faelor, Sharon looked more infuriated than excited. She currently looked rather pitiful, her blue robes in tatters with the legendary equipment most certainly destroyed. Her exposed skin was riddled with shallow wounds, some of which were covered in a black mist that stopped them from healing.

The thirty rune knights now around the teleportation gate formed a semi-circle around her, pointing their halberds upwards as they shouted in unison, ““Your Excellency!””

They had been informed that she would return soon, and Richard knew the kind of things the legendary mage liked. Their loud bellows resounded through Dragon Valley, much louder than the roars of one or two dragons. Sharon’s brow furrowed for a moment, but looking at the source she immediately broke into a smile and posed. Showing off was one of her favourite things to do.

Not just anyone could send thirty rune knights just as a welcoming committee. Even the families with so many rune knights wouldn’t do such a thing; rune knights were considered heroes of the battlefield and would think of such a thing as humiliating. Only Richard had the sheer numbers where rune knights didn’t feel all that special, agreeing to these kinds of tasks that could leave the picky Sharon excited and satisfied.

She had no idea that there was another meaning to Richard’s orders. This shout from the rune knights informed everyone within a dozen kilometres that Her Excellency had returned. Those without anything better to do were to stay in their homes, just in case they provoked her by accident.

“You’re all pretty good!” Sharon burst into laughter, “And so… handsome!”

She had been about to say they were strong, but their strength truly was nothing in her eyes. Sharon loved to exaggerate, but she wasn’t really one to lie. It wasn’t exactly easy for the rune knights to dispute the fact either; as she walked forward, a dying dragon was dragged out of the portal behind her. All of them just watched in a daze as she flew away, doubting their own eyes.

Sharon moved quickly this time, not causing nearly as much of a commotion and even going a little slower than before. A blue bubble blocked the strong winds high above; if she moved at top speed, her quarry really would die.

Even going towards the Dragon Plane, she had felt a sense of instability in the passage. When she tried to transport five adult dragons back, she immediately met trouble. The passage had nearly collapsed entirely, but thankfully she had managed to block many of the storms with pure strength. Barely keeping the connection intact, she forced her way through the spatial floods and returned to Faelor.

However, that had left her riddled with wounds while the dragon she was holding nearly died. If not for wanting to keep it alive, she wouldn’t have looked nearly as pitiful as she did now. Of course, a live dragon was worth so much more than a dead one; thinking of the profit she stood to gain, she didn’t care at all about how pathetic she ended up looking.

About halfway to Bluewater, the legendary mage suddenly sighed in dejection. She had captured five dragons in one go, which was a pretty big haul that was worth celebrating, but that image of dragons all around still filled her mind. She was someone who believed everything she saw was hers; instead of having caught five, she focused more on the hundreds she hadn’t.

Although disappointed, she still rushed over at full speed. The dragon in her hands couldn’t hold on for long, and she didn’t have any way to heal it right now. She could only wait until she got to her weyr.

It was only once Sharon left Faelor that the plane suddenly came back to life. All sorts of people grew active, the gods finishing up all of their “important” tasks and beginning to announce orders for their avatars and children to move. It was like moss growing after the rain.

……

The atmosphere in Faust was incredibly stifling right now, with many people feeling a strange weight in their hearts. Those in the know understood where this came from, but even the ones out of the loop could feel the tremendous pressure all around.

The pressure had already been held back greatly, but some bits of it would still leak out. It was so tremendous that it felt like a storm was buffeting the city, centred right around the Mage Association. It was in the top floor of this building that Richard was currently holding his first rune convention as a saint runemaster.

Unlike with the normal conventions where he attracted thousands, Richard only had an audience of twenty or so people this time. However, each and every one of them was a powerhouse famed throughout Norland, including Her Majesty Apeiron. The handful of sky saints actually stood out from the lot, all representing legends who couldn’t personally make it. Some of these people included the Sword Saint’s disciple, Drakons, as well as Empress Gelan’s right hand, Countess Zaney.

The weakest of the lot was a level 18 priest, incredibly young but with a gentle smile on his face that oozed confidence. The others in this room would likely crush him without any real fight, but when it came to status he was no less important than most of the legends. This was Saint Martin, the newest saint of the Sacred Tree Empire’s Church of Glory and currently the most likely candidate to become the next pope. He was even more important than the renowned Archbishop Hendrick.

Ever since Martin lost his battle with Richard, he had been on the rise. He had jumped several levels in a short span of time, and all of the other candidates for sainthood had disappeared all around him. This sudden focus by the Radiant Lord was out of everyone’s expectations, but even as his peers wondered how someone who almost let a grand cathedral be looted he had seemingly grown without any merit.

Richard was currently up on a temporary platform, explaining Kingsteel and Stealthwalker in great detail. He didn’t need much effort to convey their functioning to the experts present here, but he did need to put in more effort to explain how they interfaced with laws.

The appearance of a magic soul wasn’t completely random. If a runemaster did not grasp the corresponding laws, it was near impossible to obtain a related magic soul unless there was divine interference. Grade 5 runes couldn’t be tried, but as long as Richard explained clearly enough those present could tell if he was being authentic. This was why even representatives had to be sky saints.

Those present included legends of previous generations like the South Star and Kenny, with even the mythical Celestial Sage. Ruben had become an epic being centuries ago, renowned not for his strength but his deep understanding of planar systems. He might not be able to defeat Apeiron, but he was far better at exploring the myriad planes.

This concentration of powerhouses was the reason for the pressure on Faust, but almost none of them could even care as they listened to Richard with rapt attention. Interruptions were regular as they asked questions about every tiny detail, making sure they knew all they could about the runes.

Saint runes grew in power with their users. An improvement to one’s understanding of the base laws increased their might, perhaps even unlocking entirely new possibilities. As the discussion carried on, an entire day passed by in the blink of an eye. There was no applause, no flowers, no beautiful girls; this was just a group of all sorts of people discussing cryptic numbers and profound theories.

This was a saint runemaster’s rune convention.

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