The Runic Alchemist

"What do you have to say now, huh? Fatso? Where did all that pride go?" said one of the pugilist commoner boys in Sam's batch from the camp.

"Let's see if he strips now and shows us some goodies…" added the boy Sam had saved from being bullied once before.

Discover secrets at m-vlem|p-yr

"Let's beat him. He deserves it... He's a piece of trash just like the rest of them," said another, a boy who had been mistreated by the group of green-haired noble brats, to which the white-haired, plus-sized kid belonged.

Sam felt unsure of how to react. The boy, who had often been seen with those annoying Pyron noble brats, was now being confronted by the people in their unit. Sam and Einar had just entered the tent and found the white haired boy surrounded by everyone.

The group of noble brats, who usually threw their weight around, were either with one of the noble captains or had decided not to join Valoris on the current mission, staying instead with their relatives. These relatives, although part of Valoris' group, didn't take orders from him, even though he had been tasked by the higher-ups from the Dreaded Lands camp to lead Pyron's people.

The brats had the luxury of choosing not to follow orders, but not everyone had that freedom—especially lower-ranked nobles, like the plus-sized white-haired boy. As a mage, he had been assigned to their unit, with no power or backing to change it.

Now, some of their batchmates, perhaps emboldened by the confrontation they had experienced the previous night or simply wanting to vent their frustrations, were taking it out on the boy, blaming him for all the bullying and harassment his group of noble friends had inflicted on others.

Sam watched with disgust. The petty squabbles and thoughts of revenge seemed childish now. How could they focus on such trivial matters in the middle of a battlefield?

"Enough! Let him go!" Sam shouted.

Everyone turned to look at him, various emotions playing across their faces—surprise, anger, frustration, even disdain, though Sam had done nothing to earn their hostility. But he understood: they were scared and unstable after last night's ordeal. That was the real issue.

"And what if we don't?" asked the oldest boy, his hand resting on the hilt of his sword.

Sam met his gaze, taking two steps forward. His eyes cold, like a dark abyss. The boy involuntarily stepped back, shaken by the emptiness he saw in Sam's eyes. The others followed suit, stepping aside and letting the noble boy go. It wasn't Sam they feared—he wasn't much of a threat to them. It was Einar, who stood beside him, glaring as well.

Einar was the best fighter in their batch, and no one wanted to test his skills without a good reason.

The plus-sized boy walked up to Sam and Einar, his face showing a mixture of gratitude and inner conflict.

"Go away... And don't give them another chance," Sam said, dismissing him. "The only reason we spared you is because we've lost enough people already."

Sam wasn't happy about what he'd done, but it felt like the right thing. Einar, meanwhile, shouted to the group, "All of you, get ready. We leave in an hour."

The villagers were already gathering their belongings, following orders from their captain and vice-captain to prepare for departure. Sam walked out of the tent and sighed, trying to clear his head.

"Why did you do that? All our problems are because of that piece of trash," Einar said, his tone dark. Sam caught his eyes, noticing an expression similar to those inside the tent, but deeper—more sinister. This wasn't just anger over the noble brats' bullying. Sam knew this kind of rage well; he had seen it in Maximus' eyes when he spoke of the nobles. Sam himself had felt it more than once.

What had Einar lost to make him this way?

"Not just him—all of them combined. When you decide to fight them all, call me, and I'll help. But preying on one desperate kid is just plain wrong," Sam replied.

Einar stared at him for a moment, then finally looked away. "Let's go. We don't have time for this," he said, relenting. Sam nodded and followed him. Yovan joined them from another tent, looking confused at the odd atmosphere between them.

"You ten, split into two teams and scout ahead. I've heard from Valoris that you're good at it. Half of you stay behind the civilians under Einar's charge. The other half will be in front, under me. Be alert and keep your weapons ready. There's a chance we'll meet more than just monsters on this little journey back," said the captain of Unit 3, a boy of Eldoris origin named Valen Highrose.

He had pitch-black hair, large brown eyes, and a handsome face. Still in his noble attire.

Sam was pleasantly surprised that the noble captain had done his homework and assigned the tasks to capable people. Maybe Valoris knew what he was doing after all. Sam and Yovan joined Einar at the back of the long line of civilians. There were around 50 or 60 people, mostly women and children, with only a few men, and most of those were elderly.

The able-bodied men were likely already serving in the queen's army, there were still some here though.

"Do you have a spell to detect presence?" Einar asked Yovan as he directed his fellow soldiers to form a defensive line around the villagers.

"Those spells are too advanced for me. I do have one that reveals high mana levels in a 20-meter radius, but it only lasts a minute and drains too much mana for my liking," Yovan replied lazily, while Sam continued to observe the villagers.

"That will have to do.." Replied Einar, his eyes serious.

Sam knew what he was thinking, after yesterday he would also stay alert all the time. They didn't know how the enemy hid themselves, and thought to not be able to sense them terrified them.