He picked up the old brush he had kept on the table for writing " Maybe this will be able to draw runes on paper" .The tip was slightly worn, but it was good enough. He dipped it in ink, then held it between his fingers as he focused inward.He guided a thin thread of Primordial Essence into his arm. It ran down to his wrist, then seeped carefully into the brush.Immediately the brush changed.The ink shimmered faintly. The wooden handle felt lighter. A soft warmth pulsed along the bristles. Elior’s heart skipped a beat.He placed the brush on the paper and began to draw the first curve of the Life Rune.Halfway through the stroke, the energy inside the brush wavered.The paper burst into flames.Elior yanked his hand away as ashes drifted upward like black snow.He stared.Then blinked.Then exhaled shakily. “So that is how it works.”He grabbed another sheet.Attempt two.He copied the shape in his mind, drawing the curve more gently this time. A little too gentle. His energy outpu

The morning sun spilled over the village rooftops, painting the streets in warm gold. Elior walked along the cobbled paths with an easy step, his mind buzzing with thoughts of runes and Primordial Essence. He felt light, almost exhilarated, as if every cell in his body thrummed with anticipation.“Elior!” a voice rang out from a nearby bakery.He turned and saw the baker’s wife waving from the doorway, a tray of fresh bread in her hands. The smell of warm dough and sugar floated toward him, making his stomach rumble.“Come and eat with us!” she called, her smile bright and inviting. “We just finished a new batch. You must try it!”Elior raised a hand in greeting, his eyes glinting with cheer. “Thank you, I already ate at home! But the bread smells wonderful!”The baker’s wife laughed lightly, a sound that carried warmth through the morning air. “Next time, then! Don’t be so shy, come and visit us.”“I will,” he called back with a grin, waving before continuing on his way.The monkey o

The sun had begun its slow descent by the time Elior left the central square. The village had returned to its calm rhythm after the scouts’ report came back clean. The golems had not moved toward the village, nor had they left any fresh signs of presence. Their trail led deeper into the mountain forest. That meant the danger, while real, was distant. It could be years before they resurfaced. Perhaps even longer.The chief did not hide his relief when Jorin returned. His shoulders eased for the first time since Elior had spoken to him. Even so, the concern never fully faded from the man’s eyes. Elior noticed that much. The chief’s heart carried the weight of the entire village. Even a distant threat pressed heavily on him.Elior walked along the village path, the monkey sitting comfortably on his shoulder. The gentle evening breeze brushed his cheeks, carrying the smell of earth and the faint sweetness of drying herbs. Soft golden light shone across the rooftops and fields, giving ever

Elior left the stream with slow, measured steps, his palms cool from the water and his mind steady from another carved rune. The scent of wet earth and river grass trailed behind him as he walked toward the village. A soft breeze ruffled his hair, carrying faint traces of smoke from cooking fires. In these quiet moments, his essence flowed calmly, humming beneath his skin like a low current.Yet the closer he got to the village center, the more he sensed it—an unusual restlessness in the air. Voices carried farther than normal. Footsteps moved quicker. Even the children’s laughter felt sharper, too loud for an ordinary afternoon. Something had stirred the villagers today.The monkey on Elior’s shoulder perked up, ears twitching.Elior slowed his pace.He had learned to trust his instincts. The Book of Laws had not revealed new pages, but it had sharpened his perception over the years, making him more attuned to shifts in the environment. And right now, something in the rhythm of the v

The echoes of the explosion still rattled through the village when the four sect delegations moved as one. Robes swirled, essence flared, and every elder’s expression hardened into a mask of focus. Without a single glance back at the villagers, the elders streaked into the forest, leaving a trail of displaced leaves and humming energy in their wake.The chief followed immediately, steps deliberate, face set with concern. Age lined his features, but his body moved with a rare grace, fueled by experience and urgency. He did not hide; his presence was a steady, open beacon of authority and intent.None of them noticed the quiet figure slipping through the shadows at the forest’s edge.Elior.He pressed himself against the thick trunks, his essence entirely suppressed. Not a whisper of power betrayed him. His steps were silent, measured, like water tracing a rockbed. He stayed far enough behind to remain unnoticed, yet close enough to observe every detail: every flicker of aura, every rip