Runeblade

After spending the rest of the day working with Ianmus and Porkchop on Masking, Kaius had gotten better at the strange focus-intensive skill. Somewhat. It was still ruinously fatiguing to falsify his class identifier, though that had gotten a little easier as he grew more familiar with the method.

Instead, most of his gains had come from hiding just how much effort it was taking him to deceive an analysis skill. Afterall, there was no point in hiding something if the person in question was staring at him making an expression like he was actively straining against a heavy load.

Porkchop had gotten better too, potentially even faster than he had. Though, Kaius liked to think that was mostly because of him joining in. With his high Will, it was significantly harder to ward off his probes, but that increased difficulty had honed his brother’s skills.

Eventually though, they had to make camp for the eve. Once again, Ianmus had been out quickly, leaving him and Porkchop alone, sitting around their fire.

With a grunt, Kaius pushed himself to his feet, moving slowly so that his armour didn’t clank loudly. Looking up from where he was lying, his brother gave him an inquisitive look.

“Going back to that tree?” Porkchop asked. They’d passed one of the rare few that stood alone outside of the odd copses that littered the area about a quarter hour before making camp.

“Yeah, just want to see what difference the new skill makes. Getting itchy from hiding the change to the sword from Ianmus.” Kaius replied with a nod.

“Alright, I’ll keep watch. Don’t be too long though.” Porkchop replied, before he settled back down. Kaius gave his brother a nod and set off, palming the hilt of his blade as he rubbed the new gem in its pommel with his thumb, feeling its glossy smoothness.

Once he was out of eyeshot of their camp, he drew his blade, admiring its new form in the greyscale of True Sight. It was a beautiful thing, the crystal fuller and edge elevating the sword from fine craftsmanship to something that looked like a proper artefact. Something worthy of being a growth item.

Still, what he was most interested in was the effect its change and his new skill would have had on its capabilities. Both the upgrade, and the scaling boost to his enchantments would pair nicely with the effects of LiturgicalBladeform and he was reluctant to wait until a battle to understand his new abilities.

Stepping through the long grasses, Kaius eventually spotted his target. The darkvision provided by his ocular skill had expanded with his levels, letting him see his surroundings in perfect clarity.

Out of the earth a stout hardwood rose, surrounded by a canopy of branches that shrouded the tree from waist height up. He’d taken note of it earlier due to the thickness of its limbs, some of the lower ones being even thicker than his thigh. Perfect to test out how well he could cut.

Striding forwards, he stepped under the burroughs, stopping a few paces from one of the branches.

He took his stance.

One foot forwards, the other just behind him and slightly angled. He held A Father’s Gift in the mid-guard, hilt close to his waist with the blade angled up and away from him. It was still as perfectly balanced and weighted as it had always been.

A slow breath escaped as Kaius relaxed, readying himself. Then he inhaled, sharp and fast.

His blade snapped up, hips pivoting to the right as the crystalline edge of his sword melded into the shadows. Then he cut, leveraging his weight and power into the swing.

Hardwood chips flew as the edge of his sword bit into the branch with a soft thwack. With perfect edge alignment, his blade sunk in deep, powered by his stats and an arcane blade empowered by two different skills.

Thrumming reverberations shuddered up his sword, stinging his palms as it stuck fast, unable to penetrate further. Kaius grinned, that had been the first thing he had been worried about.

Swords needed to be flexible, to give before opposing forces lest they shatter. Crystal was sharp as sin and tough as the hells, but flexible was not what it was known for. Mundane crystals at least, whatever had infused his sword seemed to have much the same properties of metal, flexing perfectly fine as he had hit the hard target.

Taking his hand off the hilt, Kaius left his sword hanging out of the branch as he inspected his work.

Buried cleanly in the wood, the edge of his sword was wedged a good handspan into the branch. A soft whistle escaped his lips, satisfaction buoying him at his efforts.

A sword was a fantastic weapon, but it was a terrible tool for hewing through wood, especially against the grain. To make it so far was impressive.

He stepped away, and gripped the soft leather of his hilt before giving his sword a yank.

The sword held firm, pulling him forward with the force of his motion. Kaius frowned, tugging the hilt a bit more.

Nothing.

It was stuck fast.

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“For fuck’s sake.” he groaned, crouching under the hilt to heave upwards. Wood squealed, and bit by bit his blade was levered free. Grunting as it finally escaped its bind, Kaius snatched it back into his hands.

That was the other problem, without the wedge of an axe, a blade was far more likely to get stuck.

In the end, it was worth it. Eyeing the thick branch, he reset himself.

Then he reached for the Initiate’s Glyphic Bladerite. Stamina flooded from his pool in an instantaneous wave, flooding his connection to the sword with empowering force.

At once, the glyph on his palm and its twin embedded in the crystal of his fuller lit up with ghostly white light, quickly joined by the Ykkardian inscriptions further up the blade's length. A Father’s Gift thrumbed, empowered and ready.

Once more, he cut.

**Ding! Initiate’s Glyphic Bladerite has reached level 2!**

This time, there were no splinters, and the thunk of his blade edge biting into the branch was as soft as the wind.

Then his sword shuddered in his hands, stinging them with reverberating force once more. He hadn’t cut through. Kaius frowned, a little disappointed. Leaning forwards, he inspected his work.

It was only with True Sight that he could see the incision, so clean was the severing. A full hand and a half his sword had bitten in, before coming to a stop halfway through the branch.

That was…pretty good!

Not quite the devastation he had been hoping for, but the skill was only level two, and he had cut a fair bit deeper. At the end of the day, his skill would be making his blade sharper and tougher, neither of which would overly impact the fact that a sword was a shit woodcutting tool. Even roughly three times as strong as his considerable base abilities, it just wasn’t what the weapon was designed for.

Working at the hilt of his sword, he slowly wiggled it free of its bind. He knew that the true potential of the skill would come when he was able to upgrade A Father’s Gift. Mature growth items were legendary for the breadth and power of their effects, and being able to empower them further was no small boon. Let alone whatever additional abilities the skill would gain as it moved into the second tier.

Coming loose with a small pop, Kaius rotated his blade to look at its edge. Nary a nick or a chip was present. He grinned, satisfaction warming his chest despite the cool night air, before he sheathed the blade.

Striding away from the tree, Kaius made his way back to camp. With his curiosity satisfied, he’d finally be able to sleep. Given how much practice of his Mask he planned on doing before reaching Deadacre, he needed every scrap of it he could get.

…

The first sign that they were getting close to Deadacre appeared early one morning. They’d set off an hour earlier, cresting a low hill in the rising light of the sun.

As the hillside fell away they were greeted with a sight that caused disquiet to settle in his stomach, souring his breakfast. Cattle, a whole herd of them. They still milled together, just as placid as they might have been a few months in the past, but they were changed.

Larger, more muscular, with exaggerated horns that graced their heads. Still, they were easily recognisable as livestock. Their splotchy cream hides were all marked with a streak of red dye on their flank, though some had a deep green. Different farmers stock, he figured.

It meant that they were growing close to Deadacre. It also meant that farms had been abandoned. That was…understandable. Even if they kept their demeanours, it was only a matter of time before ranching beasts lead to tragedy. The farmers of the frontier had neither the experience, set up, or levels to manage such a thing safely.

He only hoped that the cattle had been left to roam free while their owners set off for safer housing, and not that the body of some poor sap was left twisted and broken in some abandoned field.

Beside him, Ianmus winced as he also caught sight of the roaming beasts.

“That’s not good. If they’re free, the jobs of the rest just got a whole lot harder.” the half-elf muttered.

Kaius nodded. He wouldn’t want to be the poor sap defending a field of wheat from a curious and hungry herd of cattle-beasts, that was for sure. If Deadacre wanted to feed themselves, the farms would need defending. Even with the small amount of space a good classer needed to grow food, it would still be a growing burden on resources.

“Come on, let's keep moving.” Kaius said softly, watching the herd.

They walked down the rise, moving to their right to skirt around the beasts, who looked at them with wary curiosity. Thankfully, they didn’t spook. A hundred beasts of that size was a tall ask, even for him.

Hopefully Deadacre would still be standing when they arrived.

….

Over the next two days they walked, encountering a second herd as they did so.

Bit by bit, the untamed grasslands disappeared. At first it was a single farm. A small fenced off field, with an attached cottage.

Said fence had been shattered at some point, and the door to the dwelling clattered as it swung free in the wind. They’d been growing radishes at some point. Half of those were uprooted now, eaten by wandering beasts.

Kaius only hoped that the owners had fled, and that the house was empty. They didn’t stop to check.

Soon that singular farm became commonplace, more and more fields filling their surroundings until everything became one continuous swath of fences and fields. Not all were abandoned. Some had clearly bandied together, splitting the labour of growing and guarding. That, at least, was gratifying.

It meant the city was likely still standing, and siege-rationing was unlikely.

They did give the farms a wide berth though, grizzled farmers mean mugging them from a quarter league away as they watched them pass with distrustful expressions.

Initially, it was maybe one farm in twenty that was occupied and defended. The further they travelled, the more common it became. One in ten, then five, then two. While these inner farms had guards, it was far less zealous and vigilant than their outlying cousins more at risk of attack. Hells, some of them even waved as they paced, which lit a warm glow in his belly.

The farms grew denser too, eventually the wild paths of untamed land that they followed shrinking until there was a bare hundred paces between fenced off land. It wasn’t long after that when they saw it.

Stone, rising on the horizon. Rough, blocky, and wide. Perhaps even haphazard, if one was to be uncharitable.

Walls.

Lit up by the afternoon sun, Kaius felt the itch of anticipation set in as he looked at the sight, while a fizzing curiosity that buoyed Porkchop’s spirit flooded through their bond.

“Thank the gods,” Ianmus sighed.

They’d made it to Deadacre.

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