Forming my Core took longer than I’d thought. The process was like pouring concrete into an endless hole that kept demanding more. Every day, I would spend an hour or two just sitting there, gathering my internal energy into a single point, and waiting.

  It was the waiting part that nearly took me out of it.

  Thankfully, my daily poison-eating sessions gave me something else to focus on. That, and my slowly growing tolerance of being worked at the forge by a master who seemed like he’d never smiled in his whole life.

  Hardel was that, a classic imagination of an elf bound by duty. He carried himself with aloofness likely practiced for centuries, which, while making him dull, also turned him into a dreamy figure who would make many a fantasy-nerd drool. He liked his craft, and that was just about it. He didn’t care much about anything else.

  When I was with him, coke and coal were my sole friends in that archaic blacksmith. An occasional remark about how I was more than a failure of a disciple, or how my clumsy work would’ve made for a great joke in the Planar System, wasn’t anything unusual.

  Against his best efforts, however, I was growing a certain liking to the hammer and the forge.

  Anyway, back to the Core, now.

  It was a tedious process, and the result came suddenly one day with an audible pop.

  There I was, sitting cross-legged in my Runic Chamber, meditating for hours and keeping all nine of my channels focused on a single point around my stomach. The culmination of the energy there thickened with each session, but even with soul vision, there was no real way of knowing when it would be enough.

  Turned out I’d been close. Really close, if I may add. One day, the circular wisps of energy, already thickened by weeks of effort, stopped moving altogether. At first, I thought there was something wrong, but before I could panic, I witnessed something strange in my body.

  A little core manifested right in the pit of my stomach.

  It was small. Looked more like a peach’s core, and it radiated a bronze hue that partly illuminated the pit. Fluttering around were the residual energy streaks that took part in the great effort. They seemed senseless, as if they lost their course and now weren’t sure what to do in my body at all.

  That was where my Core showed me a cool trick.

  It pulsed as I sucked in a deep breath and pulled in the residual energy with a gravitational force, swelling like a puffed-out chest for a good second. I could feel the energy inside of it like a thought, and thus knew that I could, if I wanted, make good use of it.

  The same wasn’t true for the energy still resting inside my channels, however.

  To actually become a Bronze Knight, I had to be able to manage a full circulation across my body with a thought. After all, having a lump of energy in the middle of your stomach didn’t mean anything if you couldn’t use that to fuel your fists or your legs.

  Today I was going to solve this problem.

  Today I was going to become a real Knight.

  Not lingering any longer, I concentrated on my nine internal channels and felt their slumbering expectation in my mind. Something was different, they seemed to say, as that something pulled slowly at them without much result.

  Of course, there would be no results.

  They weren’t linked yet.

  I had to personally establish clear routes for them to reach my internal energy Core, aka creating an inner circuit with the Core acting as the brain. That was the only way I could control every wisp of energy inside my body, and to ensure I wouldn’t have to stop and meditate in the middle of a fight to replenish my Core.

  Again, this wasn’t too hard for me. Soul vision gave me a clear picture of my innards, letting me bind each internal energy channel into the Core with ease. I imagined them as sockets plugging into a small, lively power outlet, and I repeated the process nine times.

  The second I connected the ninth channel, my body convulsed as a sudden stab of pain rocked my core. My skin prickled as though thousands of ants decided to have a farewell party across my body.

  No, scratch that.

  It was more like being electrocuted by your own blood without warning.

  Having developed a great tolerance against anything painful, I sucked at my gums and labored on, waiting for what felt like minutes before the sensation passed on. By the end of it I could feel the change in my body like I had another, internal layer to my skin.

  Then there was the connection.

  What a weird feeling.

  The internal energy Core had become a new part of me, like a third arm or a leg.

  This would take some time to get used to.

  Time and practice.

  I balled a fist. My Core pulsed slightly as it reacted to my will and sent a streak of internal energy into my hand. I eyed the one thing that stuck out to me in this room. My chair. I was now tall enough that it looked like a child’s toy to me.

  Better to get rid of that.

  I swung my arm around, and my fingers found the chair’s wooden back with a resonating bang. Pieces of it tried to drill into my hand, but even though I was a mere Bronze Knight, my internal energy had been treated and trained by The Undying for years.

  There was no blood.

  It didn’t even hurt, to my amazement.

  ………

  That night I couldn’t sleep.

  How could I?

  I had finally crossed that final line and become a Knight. A damned Knight! Nobody in the mansion knew. For now, this joy belonged to me and me only, and there could only be one thing that could work as a celebration.

  I couldn’t gather all the prepared materials fast enough. There before me now stood a total of eighty-seven inscriptions, over half of them consisting strictly of Grade 2 Runes. I ditched the Grade 1 ones and focused on my true collection.

  Having spent long nights thinking and trying to decide on my first set of Runes, I had something of an idea of what I’d choose. Except, now that I’d finally reached this point, I wasn’t so sure anymore.

  Okay.

  Relax.

  Think about it.

  Normally, a Bronze Knight could only house two Grade 1 Runes on his body, or a single Grade 2 one without extra resources. A Silver Knight, on the other hand, could take four Grade 1 Runes or two Grade 2 ones, or a single Grade 3 one. It went on like this until the Diamond Rank, where things changed drastically, but for the early ranks, these were the commonly known limits. Any more than that, and the sheer pressure of the soul energy within the runes could, and likely would, tear a Knight’s soul into tiny pieces.

  Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

  Or that was the general belief.

  Master Gerard, however, wrote that it wasn’t about one’s soul. Or rather, it didn’t have anything to do with the soul as I knew from Earth.

  This matter was about soul energy.

  Everyone in the Planar System was born with a small amount of soul energy. Different than the Runemasters, however, neither Knights nor Mages could tap into this soul energy and actually work toward increasing it, meaning that no matter who they were, their soul energy would remain the same throughout their lives.

  Which was why there was only one thing they could do.

  Build walls around this small reserve to keep themselves safe.

  Now, there were a lot of ways people could do this, but the common practice was to simply get strong. In a Mage’s case, a powerful Mana Core could serve as great protection against a high-grade Rune’s soul pressure. Likewise, a good Internal Energy Core could take more than a few splashes from a strong Rune’s insidious jabs. There were also skills and treasures that could do the same, but that was the gist of it.

  I didn’t have that sort of limitation. Right now, I could take at least three Grade 2 Runes to my estimation. I didn’t work all these years for nothing.

  A pity that my collection of runes was limited to the basic ones Master Gerard so kindly shared with me thanks to my Mother’s sword. Not that I wasn’t grateful, of course. Without his guidance, I wouldn’t have anything to work with.

  Anyway, I made myself comfortable on the ground and took a look at my little collection.

  The types of Runes available at hand were simple.

  There was the Grade 2 Strengthening Rune, which would give me a 40% increase in bodily strength. That was a must. The Grade 2 Internal Energy Rune was also a no-brainer. To balance the Strengthening Rune, I’d have to go with a Grade 2 Endurance Rune, which brought the total number to three.

  Here things got tricky.

  Assuming that I could push myself to get a fourth Grade 2 Rune, I had a few options. I could go with the classic General Speed Rune, which would supply my muscles with much-needed flexibility. Or, I could go for a Regeneration Rune to boost The Undying’s efficiency to the peak. There was also the General Dexterity Rune that could help with my blacksmith lessons and rune-inscribing sessions.

  My head throbbed with the promise of a headache as I considered my situation. I almost felt empathy for people who had to actually pay a fortune—if even they could find a Runemaster to do the job, that is—to get Runes. I, on the other hand, could simply remove a Rune and change it for any occasion.

  That was right.

  I wasn’t about to carve runes into my flesh that would stick with me forever. I could do whatever I wanted and whenever I wanted, which meant that there was no real reason to get too greedy from the start.

  In the end, my original trio of Grade 2 Runes, namely the Strengthening, Endurance, and Internal Energy Runes, made the most sense for a start. I could think about a fourth Rune later. There was no rush.

  Pulling out my shirt and trousers, I rechecked the Runes and tweaked some of the crooked lines to my satisfaction. Then, slowly, I stretched the Internal Energy Rune and plastered the magical leather onto my stomach.

  Cold crept swiftly underneath my skin, through my innards, and across my body as though I was caught by a sneaky blizzard in the middle of winter. As an experienced torture-enjoyer, I simply waited for the sensation to pass as the soul energy tendrils reaching from inside the magical characters finally wrapped around my Core.

  The change was instant, but strange.

  First of all, the leather stuck to my skin and didn’t feel out of place. The characters upon it that were full of soul energy sort of acted as a miraculous glue. I could hardly feel it rubbing against my body, which was a plus.

  The sudden increase in my internal energy, however, was like a hammer that caught me from somewhere I couldn’t even see.

  No. It was more as though I swallowed another half-Core that sank like a rock into my stomach.

  My knees nearly buckled, but I held on, clenching my stomach and trying not to break the rhythm of my breathing. At the same time, I guided my Core to distribute the excessive energy across all nine of my internal channels, slowly dissolving the gloating sensation and relieving the pressure of having one and a half cores.

  By the end of it I was breathing like a bull, sweat pouring down on my chin, my face burning like I had a miniature sun roasting me from the ceiling.

  I did manage to come out of it, though, after which I couldn’t stop smiling.

  Holy planets…

  So that was how a 40% increase in internal energy felt like?

  Incredible.

  Simply amazing.

  People could get addicted to this feeling.

  Then again, they sort of did, hence everyone’s obsession with runes. Being a normal Knight or a Mage wasn’t dissimilar to walking into a battlefield buck naked. There was just no comparison between the two. Runed people were literally a better race.

  My fingers itching, I eyed the other two Runes waiting for me. I could do this in one go. I wanted to do this right away.

  I wanted to feel strong.

  I just couldn’t get enough of this feeling.

  ………

  Belfray’s POV

  “Do you really think this is going to work as a small family trip to the woods?” I asked with no small amount of suspicion in my voice, no little degree of hesitation in my gaze, and a subtle tremor of trepidation in my fingers as I watched the Young Master from the secret hole through his Runic Chamber.

  He might very well have become the first Runed Bronze Knight in existence.

  Such absurdity, indeed, to witness a Bronze Knight trying to pick a set of runes. Nowadays, even Golden Knights counted themselves lucky if they could get a single Rune from the market.

  Which was precisely why I felt nervous.

  “I’m afraid there’s a chance the Grand Marshall might’ve misunderstood the Young Master’s… intentions,” I said, sighing out a long breath.

  “Give her a chance,” Radek said, shaking his head. “As they say, you can’t expect a sword to bend further than it was intended. Grand Marshall’s been a feared warrior throughout her life. It will take some time for her to learn the other side of things.”

  “Do they actually say that?” I furrowed my brows.

  “I’m sure they do.” Radek smiled. “The Planar System has thousands of worlds, no? There’s bound to be a world in which this exact saying is a thing.”

  “You’re too calm,” I said. “Why are you this calm? We’re going to show the Young Master the true face of this kingdom. Perhaps I should talk with the Grand Marshall. Changing her mind—“

  “No.” Radek’s voice gained an almost reluctant quality to it as he pointed those gleaming eyes toward me. “She’s already told him that we’re here to take this world. The kid’s got more questions than answers from that talk. It’s about time he learns some of the truths.”

  “Is this your professional opinion as a Heart Mage, or are you just talking out of your ass to further deepen your meaningless grudge against me?” I glared back at him with strength, then gave him a taste of his own medicine. I sneered. “You can’t win, old friend. I’m afraid when the matter involves you and I, there’s not much of a competition.”

  “Oh, is that so?” Radek smiled widely. “Was that why, when we were just talking about the Young Master, you suddenly changed your course and decided to take a jab at me? Or was it because… I did something?”

  My back prickled with insidious fear.

  Surely, that wasn’t the case—

  There I felt it, right around my Core, a tender coldness that had already seeped into my very being. I pulled it out like how a man would tear a stubborn worm out of a wound, then burned it down with my internal energy.

  “A rusty carriage creaking senselessly across the path, hoping to chance upon a place where he would find remedy for his broken walls.” Radek’s jab was fast, and swift without mercy. “You’re doing a disservice to the Young Master by keeping your walls loose and rusty, butler. I could’ve turned you into an angry bull through that tiny hole had I wanted.”

  I gathered my inner will, forcing the Undying’s celestial strength into every part of my body to flush out any possible outside influences. There weren’t any, which was a relief, but my shame at being caught like a green Knight couldn’t be any bigger.

  “Do that again, and there’ll be consequences,” I muttered through clenched teeth.

  “I’m this army’s Shield, burdened with keeping your minds safe from any possible breaches. That includes you, Belfray. Pay more attention. You’re being too delicate and distracted whenever the matter involves the Young Master. You can’t do that.”

  A part of me yearned to see how drastic a change I could make to his face with a fist of mine, but I knew the bastard was right, so I pulled myself together and drew in a sharp breath.

  “This will be his first adventure,” Radek said, but not before I felt another probe around my Core. This time, the Undying eradicated the outside influence before it could get close. The bastard continued as if he did nothing, “The plan was to drop him into the woods right after he became a Bronze Knight. We were going to watch over him, of course, but the kid would’ve been left alone without any prior notice. I’m glad that the recent talk seemed to have changed my Lady’s plans.”

  “Mm,” I nodded. “I’m glad, as well.”

  That was a good step on the Grand Marshall’s end.

  Before, as Radek said, she was planning to send Young Master on a week-long journey in the woods without telling him anything. There’d have been no food and no shelter. The Trial of the Wild, as we called it back in the day, was a test any ten-year-old child had to pass to show the family that he had indeed earned the right to call himself a Knight.

  She had changed her mind after their talk with the Young Master.

  Now, instead of dropping him in the middle of the woods, she would do something many of us would’ve had a hard time believing in the past and give him the news and show him the place before ultimately… well, dropping him in the middle of the woods.

  Such thoughtfulness from her wasn’t something we were used to.

  That act alone had nearly brought tears to my eyes.

  My Lady truly cared for her son more than anything in the world.

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