It had been a few weeks since the feast, and Uncle Kael had departed. But he didn't leave empty-handed; before his departure, he gave me a gift. At first glance, I wasn't particularly thrilled about it—after all, after months of grueling training, I expected something grand, maybe a weapon of unparalleled strength or an artifact of legendary renown. But what I got?
A pair of gloves.
Yes, gloves.
I remember staring at them with a blank expression, unsure whether to be grateful or annoyed. "Gloves? Really, Uncle Kael?" I had asked, skepticism lacing my tone. Kael, of course, just grinned.
"Don't underestimate these gloves, Arax," he replied with that mischievous smirk of his. "These aren't ordinary gloves—they're Runelith Forgehands. A Legacy Artifact, one of a kind in this world. Trust me, once you see what they can do, you'll thank me later."
And oh, how right he was.
The Power of the Runelith Forgehands is something else.
Legacy Artifacts are no trivial matter. Unlike conventional artifacts, they are tied to the essence of their user, evolving alongside them. When I advance in rank, the artifact will grow stronger as well, adapting to my abilities and unlocking new potential. In other words, these gloves will be with me for life.
But what truly makes the Runelith Forgehands unique isn't just their ability to grow—it's the access they grant me to an ancient and almost forgotten art: Rune Sorcery.
Rune Sorcery is one of the oldest magical professions, tracing its origins back to the dawn of mana itself. Unlike conventional mana arts, which rely heavily on willpower, imagination, and raw spirit, Rune Sorcery allows a mage to dictate every detail of a spell's formation.
To explain the difference, imagine mana arts as a basic tool. They're straightforward and effective: you imagine a fireball, you focus your mana, and boom—there's your fireball. Simple, powerful, and fast. But it ends there. You can't tinker with its properties beyond what your natural affinity allows.
Now, Rune Sorcery? That's an entirely different beast. If mana arts are like sketching a simple line, Rune Sorcery is like constructing a detailed 3D model. Every element of the spell can be customized—the size, the shape, the intensity, even the mana cost. With Rune Sorcery, you could create a fireball that twists midair, splits into smaller fireballs, or even explodes in a specific radius—all while controlling how much mana it consumes.
It's like comparing a machine gun to a 3D-printed railgun. Sure, both can kill, but one has precision, complexity, and endless possibilities.
A New Realm of Possibility
The gloves themselves are works of art. Sleek and black, etched with intricate golden runes that shimmer faintly with mana, the Runelith Forgehands feel almost alive. When I wear them, I can sense the raw potential surging through them, like a door opening to an entirely new dimension of magic.
With these gloves, I don't just cast spells—I create them. The process of crafting rune-based magic is meticulous and demanding, requiring an almost obsessive attention to detail. But the results? Absolutely worth it.
For example, let's take a basic spell like Fireball. Using conventional mana arts, I'd summon a ball of fire, launch it, and watch it explode. Effective, but basic. With Rune Sorcery, I could modify the Fireball to:
Expand or shrink its size mid-flight.
Detonate on impact, leaving behind lingering flames.
Split into multiple smaller fireballs that seek out enemies.
Spiral unpredictably to confuse opponents.
And that's just the beginning. With enough creativity and expertise, I could design spells so intricate that even seasoned mages wouldn't know how to counter them.
But, as with all things in life, there's a catch.
The Limitations of Rune Sorcery are pretty tight.
Rune Sorcery, for all its brilliance, is not without its drawbacks. Crafting a spell model is time-consuming, often requiring hours or even days of meticulous work. And once the spell is complete, it has to be stored—either in a grimoire or within the mage's own mana core.
Grimoires are convenient but fragile. In battle, a grimoire can be lost or destroyed, taking with it months of work. Storing spells in a mana core is safer, but it comes with its own limitations:
A mage can only store 10 complex rune spells per rank.
At maximum Rank 9, this means a total of 90 spells.
For most mages, this is a significant limitation. After all, the more spells you store, the less room you have for raw mana, which is essential for combat and survival. But for me? This limitation doesn't exist.
I have billions of mana cores.
That's right—billions. Thanks to my unique lineage and the absurdly overpowered nature of my soul, I can store more spells than anyone else in the history of Rune Sorcery. While others are restricted to a mere 90 spells, I could potentially store tens of thousands. The possibilities are endless.
Uncle Kael had told me that Rune Sorcery isn't just about creating powerful spells—it's about understanding magic on a fundamental level. By mastering the art of runes, I wouldn't just be a mage—I'd be a creator, a visionary capable of bending reality to my will.
Of course, this doesn't mean I'm abandoning conventional mana arts. They're still incredibly useful, especially in high-pressure situations where speed matters more than complexity. But with Rune Sorcery at my disposal, I now have a toolset that allows me to tackle challenges in ways most mages can't even comprehend.
And the best part? This is only the beginning.
As I sat in my room, examining the glowing runes etched into the gloves, I felt a huge amount of excitement. The journey ahead would be long and challenging, but with the Runelith Forgehands, I felt ready to face anything.
Uncle Kael might have driven me insane with his training, but this gift? This gift made it all worth it.