Return of the Legendary Runesmith

The brain is both the processor and producer of magic.

Mana flows through the body along specific channels, and the points where it exits into one's weapon or tool are called mana nodes.

When someone uses magic, their subconscious mind keeps the mana flowing automatically. If a mage had to consciously command every drop of mana, they'd never survive a real fight—their mind would be too busy to focus on anything else.

That's why the subconscious is such a delicate part of one's mind. Disturb it, and you could lose the ability to channel magic altogether.

In the fifth thread, a magical link is formed between a person's Gate and their weapon.

The Gate is the boundary between the conscious and subconscious mind. Once this link is in place, you can summon your weapon anytime, anywhere. Your control over magic—whether elemental power, spells, or the weapon itself—grows immensely. You begin to feel as if you and your armament are one.

A skilled fighter—say, someone ranked between fifteen and thirty—wielding a fifth-grade weapon forged from strong materials, could even challenge the top Wardens.

Because when you and your weapon become one, it's not just the weapon that grows stronger—you grow stronger with it.

So, why doesn't every powerful Warden carry a fifth-grade weapon?

Two reasons. First, there's only one person alive who can tune a weapon to the fifth grade.

Second… the process is extremely risky. Risky enough that very few are willing to take the chance.

A single disturbance—whether from the Runesmith or an outside force—could ruin everything. One wrong move, and the subject might lose their ability to channel magic forever. Worse, it could kill them.

So yes, this was serious. Deadly serious. And for that very reason, Adrian had to take things slowly, studying every note with care.

"Sir?"

"Ah, yeah?" He tore his gaze from the notes and turned toward Elana, who had settled into the chair beside him.

They were still in the eatery, the others chatting and having dinner.

Noticing Adrian's silence, Elana approached him.

Her brows drew together in quiet concern. "Is something troubling you?"

Adrian let out a slow sigh. He had tried to act normal, but was he fooling anyone?

Closing the book and resting it on the table, he admitted, "There is something—but I can't tell you. Not right now."

He needed to speak with Ariana first, weigh the risks, and then decide what to do.

No point in burdening Elana just yet. If she started worrying, it would only drag down her focus and performance in the final round.

The silver-haired girl stayed quiet for a moment before suddenly pulling something from her pocket.

"Here." She held out what looked like a tiny teddy bear.

"When I'm stressed, I squeeze it… and it helps."

Adrian's brows rose as he took the toy. Pressing it gently, he realized it wasn't stuffed with cotton—it shifted under his fingers, soft and pliable, like clay.

Leaning back in her seat, Elana added, "I won't ask what's wrong, but you know you can trust me, sir. No matter how big the matter is, I'll keep it to myself."

Adrian let out a quiet sigh, his gaze lingering on her.

After a few seconds of thought, he asked, "Is your father coming to watch the final round?"

The question caught her off guard, but she still replied, "He wanted to, but with so much work… I told him not to."

Adrian hesitated, then said, "Can you do me a favor? Call him here for the match day. Tell him you miss him and want him there. And… it would be best if he arrives on the day itself—not earlier."

Elana's eyes narrowed. "Is something going to happen that day, sir?"

Adrian didn't answer. His fingers tightened around the teddy.

And Elana understood.

She nodded, silently.

….

On their way back, Aries asked, "Sir, will the Blackthorn still be allowed to participate now that one of their members cheated?"

Adrian hummed in thought. "If I remember Sir Clark's words correctly, he said every student would be judged on their individual performance. So… yes, maybe."

Sure, they had lost three rounds. But that didn't automatically mean they had failed the assessment.

The top-ranked Runesmith had made it clear—effort would be valued over results.

"But… that cheater won't be participating, right? Then how are they going to have a five-man team?" Allen asked, frowning.

"There's a thing called a backup team, you know?" Sylvie replied, raising an eyebrow. She still couldn't understand how she, someone not even on the main team, knew that—while Allen didn't.

Everyone shared a chuckle when Adrian said, "Yes, they can bring someone in from the backup. And that… person could turn out to be an anomaly. After all, none of us have seen them fight. So you must be ready for anything."

A weight settled on their shoulders—not the kind that dragged them down, but one that pushed them forward. It sharpened their focus, driving them to train harder and erase any uncertainty this so-called anomaly might bring.

Before long, they returned to the venue. Adrian dismissed them to their rooms, telling them to rest. Tomorrow, training would start early. Only two days remained—excluding today—before the final round.

No one argued. One by one, they headed for the dormitory.

"Elana," Adrian called just as she was about to follow the others.

Aries gave her a small smile. "I'll see you later."

Elana nodded before stepping toward Adrian.

When the others were out of earshot, he said quietly, "I want your focus on training and your team. Whatever the problem is, I'll handle it. I won't let anything happen to you or the others."

"I know, sir. Not for a moment have I felt fear. I know you'll do something—like you always do."

Her words made his shoulders slump ever so slightly. That level of trust… it was both comforting and heavy.

Elana hesitated, then reached out, her hand brushing against his. "Until you're fine, I'll be fine." She looked up at him, eyes round and bright.

She let go a moment later and walked away.

Adrian rubbed the back of his head and released a slow, audible breath.

Not long after, he headed toward the far side of the venue, where the Headmasters were staying. The hour was late, so he had to slip in quietly, careful not to draw attention.

Sliding a Darkness-element bullet into his revolver, he muttered to himself, 'I need to ask Forgelet for the bullet—ah, damn, I completely forgot.'

Before he could request anything from her, he needed to finish preparing the artifacts she had asked for.

°°°°°°°

A/N:- Thanks for reading.