The Runesmith

Chapter 641: Bernir’s Trial Continued.

“You seem stressed these days. Is everything all right?”

“Yes, it’s just… I don’t want to fail…”

“Aww, you’re being too hard on yourself. I don’t think he is the type of man to hold something like that against you.”

“Aye, I know…”

Bernir let out a sigh as he leaned against his wife, her ample bosom pressing against the back of his head as she hugged him. The embrace eased his mind and helped him forget, if only for a moment, the importance of the day ahead.

“Well, give it your all!”

The hug did not last long. A firm palm landed on his back, sending him stumbling forward. His wife was much larger than him and far above his level, her strength was immense enough to nearly knock him to the ground. His son, sitting on a nearby chair, burst into giggles, and Bernir could not help but smile as well.

“Don’t worry. Daddy will come back a new man!”

“That’s what I like to hear. Oh, and bring back some oats on the way. We are all out.”

Bernir nodded and headed outside. People greeted him with respectful nods, and even the guards stepped aside, all of them aware of his connection to Roland. Though he appreciated the treatment, Bernir did not feel he deserved it. Everything he had was thanks to Roland, while he himself could not even cross the threshold into the tier three realm.

The thought haunted him at night. He was not useful. He was not truly helping the man who had long since surpassed him. Once, he had taken pride in his craftsmanship as a blacksmith, and in that field, he had even outmatched Roland. In time, however, that gap closed. When Bernir saw the last set of dark armor his boss had forged, he had to admit that he could likely never create anything better.

If he could not reach him through pure metalwork and craftsmanship, then he needed something new. The only way to catch up was through this ascension trial. The class he might obtain was something even his boss was not capable of acquiring. It opened new possibilities that runes alone could not yet achieve. At least for now.

Roland had a talent for coming up with new ideas, so perhaps even this class and the equipment Bernir would create with it could eventually be replicated. Bernir did not care about that. As long as he could be useful to the man who had changed his life and made it better, it would be enough.

After four failures already, he hoped the fifth attempt would finally be the one. He arrived at the underground workshop, where the magical tower spirit Sebastian was waiting for him. Sebastian’s body was now fully golemic, complete with articulated fingers and even a mouth that moved when he spoke. While it was not quite finished yet, he was beginning to look more and more human.

“Let’s go, Sebastian. This time, for sure.”

Sebastian and Bernir moved toward the memory chamber. Bernir was growing tired of the white walls and the sterile atmosphere. He hoped this would truly be the last time he would be here for a while. Before entering, he quickly pulled out a few notes. They detailed various scenarios and changes within the ascension trial, things he had studied for days before attempting it again.

Soon, he was back in the chair, holding the crystal. With a single thought, he activated it and found himself in his old home village. After walking to his house, he picked up the white hammer, and the test began anew.

This time around, it was neither an axe nor a bow, but a shield that he needed to prepare. Even though he lacked many of his memories, some of them began to rush back. It was as if the constant study of the images produced by the memory machine and the repeated reinforcement of them had triggered this strange effect.

It felt as though he already knew what to do and which materials to choose in order to craft this soul-infused weapon. Once the temporary skills were granted to him again, he began working at a rapid pace, finishing in record time while remaining completely at ease. Half of the starry sky was still lit when he finally finished the first part of the trial.

“Now then, on to the true test…”

It was time to cross the threshold and begin anew. Just like the last time he had been here, though this time the weight on his shoulders felt different. The door appeared once more, formed from the same quiet radiance as before. Bernir did not hesitate. He stepped through. The world snapped into focus around him, and the two assistants appeared again.

“Chief!”

One of his apprentices came running to inform him about the lord beacon. In the past, he had answered the call without much thought, but this time he knew better. The moment he spoke to the strange amalgamation of Arthur and Roland, the timer would begin ticking. If he delayed it slightly, he could gain some precious time to set up his forge first, and that was exactly what he intended to do.

“You two.”

“Yes, Chief?”

“Take this list. Go to the market and buy everything on it.”

“All of this, Chief? This is our whole budget. Are you sure?”

The assistant barely finished speaking before Bernir smacked him over the head.

“Aye. Just get it and stop asking stupid questions.”

The apprentice rubbed his head, wincing, but nodded and sprinted off with the list clutched in both hands. The other followed close behind, as if accustomed to this sort of treatment. Bernir exhaled slowly and turned back toward the forge.

“Aye. Let us not waste any time. Once the knight appears to take me, I will not have a choice.”

Thanks to the memory machine, he knew a few loopholes in this trial. Some things changed, but others remained constant. This was the first trick he learned after his boss told him to experiment and go off the path to see what would happen. He asked him to explore the city, to ignore orders, and to try to find anything he could use to his advantage.

One early loophole was gaining a few hours of spare time if he did not visit the lord. Another was that buying resources early was the best choice, since when the creatures came attacking, the whole area would be suppressed, rendering merchants scarce and everything more expensive. To alleviate this problem, he needed to start crafting as soon as possible. Every weapon he created and everything he made properly added funds to his smithy. The fewer soldiers who died, the more the lord would reward him. This was the main crux of the trial.

Then there was the second most important part, creating soul infused weapons that fit the soldiers who wielded them. After multiple trials, the true secret behind this profession revealed itself. Normal magic smiths, such as enchant smiths and rune smiths, could create buffs through spells or simple stat boosts. The craftsman he was going to become followed an entirely different approach, one that focused on skills and abilities.

“The first step never changes. I need to focus on swordsmen and shield holders first.”

There were two main things his new profession could do. Soul-infused weapons and armor had two primary abilities. One was to directly damage another being’s soul or to protect against such attacks. This was highly effective against phantom-type enemies that appeared in the early stages of the trial, though it became less useful once stronger beings began to reveal themselves.

The second ability, and the one far more difficult to use, was the direct improvement of pre-existing skills. His boss was aware of this and had analyzed it for him. The leading theory was that the soul interacted with the world system itself. Roland speculated that the human soul somehow stored all information related to skills, their levels, and also imposed limits on what classes and skills a person could unlock.

Most of this was beyond Bernir’s understanding, but the conclusion was clear. His new class was unique, and it could directly increase the level of skills. He could create a sword imbued with the ‘One-Handed Swordsmanship skill’. Anyone wielding such a sword would have their skill enhanced, gaining anywhere from one to several levels.

The only apparent requirement was that the skill had to fall within the class’s capabilities. The individual did not need to have the skill unlocked yet. It was enough that their class was capable of unlocking it later on.

This meant that, in theory, a knight focused on spearmanship could still benefit from wielding a sword enhanced with that skill bonus, though it would not be optimal. It was far better to build on a person’s strengths rather than try to compensate for their weaknesses.

Because of this, he needed to analyze the soldiers taking part in the city’s defense against the phantoms. Weapons and armor had to be distributed with care, as a spearman would gain little benefit from sword-related skills.

“Hm… I wonder how many of these I will be able to cram into a single weapon…”

Bernir picked up a premade hilt and examined it. While it was usually better to focus on a person’s strengths, in theory, it seemed possible to force multiple buffs into one weapon. Perhaps he could create something that, when grasped by a complete novice, would turn them into a master swordsman. It could grant every skill required, even if they lacked all of them beforehand. As long as he could figure out how to bend a soul enough to accept so many modifications, the world would be his oyster.

“Aye, that would be great… but first I need to get comfortable with applying even a single soul enchantment.”

Bernir set the hilt down with a soft clack and rolled his shoulders. Dreams of perfect weapons could wait. Trials like this were never passed by chasing ideals; they were passed by surviving the next hour.

He turned toward the forge and stoked the fire. The flames answered eagerly, rising higher than they should have, as if the forge itself recognized him now. That alone told him something had changed since his earlier failures. The world was no longer resisting him as fiercely.

“Aye… you feel it too, don’t you?”

The forge seemingly responded, shining brightly before him. He looked to the sides, scanning the various tools, materials, and half-made items. All of them were filled with different colors, the colors of the soul, each differing depending on its purpose.

There were a few base colors he could recognize, ones he had only truly noticed later in the trial before ultimately failing. Now, thanks to his notes, he remembered the colors and their meanings.

Red represented attack. Materials bearing this hue were tied to skills meant to raise battle prowess. These could include passive abilities that improved weapon-wielding proficiency, as well as effects that enhanced active skills.

Blue represented defense, resilience, the refusal to yield, and stability. Materials carrying this hue resonated with shields, armor plates, and techniques meant to endure rather than overcome. Bernir’s gaze lingered on a slab of blue-veined steel resting near the anvil, its glow calm and steady.

Then there was green, the last of the main colors, associated with supplementary skills and buffs. It focused on abilities that helped regenerate mana, stamina, and even health.

These three soul colors were the primary ones he worked with during this trial, but they were only the beginning. Though he could not see them clearly, other colors were present as well, purple, yellow, orange, and many more that extended beyond the spectrum of a rainbow. There were countless abilities in this world, so it was no wonder that the colors corresponding to them were just as vast.

The work finally began, and he knew he needed to focus on blue and red coloring first. The goal was to give the soldiers equipment that would shield them from the phantoms’ influence. For this part, he decided to modify existing breastplates and bladed weapons, which were among the basic equipment used in this trial.

In the previous mini trial, his success had come more easily. During the material gathering process, he had not needed to pay attention to the souls. Now, however, if he wanted a specific effect, he would need to select parts that produced one of the main colors. Otherwise, the skill would not register at all.

Once he reached the soul infusion process, he could finally influence the desired skill. For the time being, he knew only a few basic ones. One increased passive swordsmanship, another improved spearmanship, and a defensive skill made heavy armor easier to use. The last was of the green variety and helped with stamina usage. He knew there were more, but for now, he could not remember them.

Soon, he grasped his hammer and got to work. His two assistants returned with his order, clearly confused by its contents. Alongside the various ores and alloys common to a smithy, they had brought plants, wood, and even ordinary-looking rocks. Bernir, however, knew better. Every object they carried held a strong soul within it. Though combining them felt more like alchemy than smithing, he needed them to move forward.

For half a day, he continued forging, creating blades, and reinforcing breastplates with soul energy. His assistants pleaded with him to go to the lord, but he refused to stop. Only when one of the lord’s personal knights arrived and physically dragged him away did he finally leave the forge. Brnir was dragged before the lord, made his pledge, and the clock began to tick. After that, the days blurred together.

The first wave came at dusk. The shapes were like torn shadows, sliding through stone and flesh alike. The city bells rang, and Bernir watched from the walls as the knights he had armed stepped forward. When steel should have failed, it did not. His blades bit into something deeper than matter, leaving ripples of pale red light where the phantasms unraveled. Shields held where ghostly claws tried to tear through, and their bearers stood firm, protecting everyone with no casualties on their side.

Soon, however, losses began to come, as they always did, though they were fewer than he remembered. Each battle taught him something. A sword infused too heavily with red burned its wielder’s stamina dry. Their bodies could not handle the strain of additional skills and the heightened battle prowess that came with it. The power needed to be supplemented with green, balanced carefully to prevent overloading the user’s soul.

He adjusted quickly as a new wave came. Spearmen received weapons that emphasized timing rather than strength. Shield bearers were given armor that protected them from the growing danger, and archers were supplied with special arrows meant to counter the flying enemies that had caused Bernir to fail on his third attempt.

The city held. Refugees flooded in to replenish the ranks, and more assistants were assigned to help him manage the growing operation. With every day, his smithy expanded, and so did the number of orders. Keeping everything in order became increasingly difficult. This trial tested not only his skill as a craftsman but also his ability to lead.

During the previous test, he had constantly asked himself what his boss would do and how Roland would handle the problem. Eventually, he realized this was the wrong approach. The two of them were too different. He was not as intelligent, nor could he devise elaborate plans or account for every possibility. He relied more on instinct than logic, and perhaps that was why this class had been offered to him. The souls called out to him, guiding him toward the final confrontation as a massive army of wraiths and their lich-king leader advanced.

“You have done well, soul craftsman. This will be the final battle. I hope I can rely on your hammer even in this troublesome time.”

“Aye, boss. I mean, my lord.”

The amalgamation of Roland and Arthur stood beside him on the walls. He wore gleaming armor, reinforced by Bernir himself. It was Bernir’s magnum opus for this trial, as the lord had his own role to play. He was the strongest warrior in the palace, the only one capable of facing the lich alone. The time of reckoning had arrived, and soon the trial would be over.