The Runic Alchemist

Damian gripped his sword with a relaxed body, not too tight for a charge or lifting it in defense, just letting his hands find the most natural grip. Then, canceling the spell, Damian tuned out everything around him, breathing with focus, and guiding the small bits of the cool, new energy source he had discovered inside himself to his hands.

Once he had enough, Damian exhaled and, opening his eyes, executed the 'Wanderer Cleaves the Mountain' flawlessly. He had performed it thousands of times before while practicing his swordsmanship, the feeling this time was no different.

However, when he opened his eyes, what he saw was not the usual sword striking an imaginary target from head to toe. The sword swept overhead in a graceful arc no doubt, but its motion left behind a delicate trail of black, ethereal specks that shimmered like falling stars.

A perfect, luminous, thin arc—like the tip of a pen—formed in the blade's wake, beautiful and fleeting, as if painted in the air before dissolving softly into nothingness.

"You did it! I can't believe this shit..!" Einar exclaimed, forgetting his usual calm and restrained attitude for a moment.

Damian breathed hard. He had almost reached the limit of his focus and had only managed a thin line. His respect for pugilists and aura users grew by leaps and bounds. This was not easy at all. He had already lost the cold feeling by relaxing his mind just a little.

"It took everything out of me, and I barely left a visible trail. Yours was a hundred times better," Damian replied, looking back at him.

"It took me months to master it, Maximus. Yours is just the first time using it, isn't it?" Einar said, his face both happy and proud, though tinged with a hint of envy and hurt pride that he failed to hide.

"I had help and a great teacher," Damian smiled, placing his sword back in its sheath. He had enough for the day.

They walked back towards the camp in the quiet night. However, when they were just a few meters away from the outer perimeter, Damian said, "By the way, if you want to handle your… business alone in the forest, you can give the charge to that old high leveled first ranker I was talking to. He seems reliable enough."

"Do my business? What do you mean?" Einar asked, confused.

"You know how you always sneak around, trying to find moments of privacy... You can leave for a while if you want. Just flare your mana uncontrollably if you need help. I'll notice right away."

"Privacy..? We are at war, Maximus.."

"Well, it's up to you. I… know what you really are, and I don't care. I didn't bring it up because I thought it might be awkward, but being surrounded by all these guys… I just wanted to let you know you can relax a bit. Do what's necessary without worrying about being found out."
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Einar froze, forcing Damian to halt as well. Well, it was still awkward in the end. The signs were clear as day from the first day they had met, he tried his best to ignore it, not meddling in his or her affairs. But he felt like he had to say this, giving at least a little freedom, so Einar won't stay tense all the time and keep his focus on battle.

"You… knew?"

"As I said, it doesn't really matter. Also you are not exactly good at hiding it.."

To others, Einar was just another gorgeous boy, nothing unusual in the ancient land of elves. But Damian, cursed with noticing even the smallest irregularities and torturing himself with overthinking, couldn't overlook the discrepancies.

"Since when?" Einar asked, her face blank as if calculating.

"What do you think?" Damian shrugged and resumed walking.

Dragging the conversation on would only make it more uncomfortable. Einar, reaching some conclusion on her own, followed behind in silence for a few seconds before muttering under his breath, "You were always awfully kind to me…"

Damian ignored the comment and left her behind, acting as though he hadn't heard it. Finally, he reached his personal captain's tent, ready for a much-needed rest after the day's events.

****

They continued on the next day, and the day after, moving deeper into the forest day in and day out. Damian had to renew the mimicry spell every 15 hours or so and he also acted as a communication medium, relaying orders or sharing important findings among the captains.

He mostly traveled on horseback, so it wasn't too much of a burden, but he would have loved to spend more time working on his own skills. That's what he did during any free time when they weren't fighting or sleeping. Also continuing swordsmanship practice with Einar and Sam, trying his best to use the aura, though it was just too hard for him yet.

As expected, Ashenvale soldiers were scattered all over the forest. Each captain encountered a unit every three or four days. The monsters, as the reports suggested, were not as numerous as Damian remembered, and the other captains agreed. Sometimes the Ashenvale soldiers banded together to attack in large groups; other times, they hid, hoping not to be found.

However, most of the time, they were too preoccupied with their captives and spoils to notice their enemies approaching. They weren't even hiding, just using the villages as bases.

Damian sometimes had to go alone or with a few people like Einar, Yovan, and Sam. Their elite team would sneak into these villages and lay waste to the bandit-like army without harming the villagers. Some villages were spared, with the soldiers only taking their women and food, leaving most of the population alive.

But some villages were not so fortunate—those that tried to fight back were slaughtered, their bodies hung in the village square as a brutal warning and when they left they torched the village, burning it to the ground.

When Damian and his unit found one of these greedy evil units, the outcome was terrifying to look upon. The vengeance of the soldiers was never a beautiful thing, as they described in the stories, it was bloody and ugly.