“Such a destructive rune!” Monty grinned from ear to ear, uncaring for Emma’s torturous situation. Mages couldn’t die from the appearance of their third rune, a process called Creation. They could, however, become crippled or at worst, forced into an indefinite coma. Creation was a trial by fire, and that was particularly true in Emma’s case.

Monty curiously observed the rune, engraving its appearance into his memory. He had never seen nor heard of a rune like this and he doubted it would be recorded within the Institution’s library. The Greysons wouldn't share knowledge of a fabled rune so easily, leaving him only one option, appraising it himself.

Runes were the basis for all magic, if one didn’t possess an aptitude for magic, they wouldn’t awaken a rune. The world was cruel like that, the lives of those born without aptitude were as cheap as grass, while those with runes as lowly as common tier couldn’t be bought.

There were exceptions, of course, the Rott’s being a good example. No one would publicly enslave the Rott’s, as to not offend the power that had destroyed their House. They could only be used for research, greatly diminishing their value.

Leaning in closer to Emma’s charred back, Monty got a good look at the rune. It took the shape of a burning female figure nailed to a cross. The figure’s body resembled Emma’s, but the face was blank besides a single crimson glyph.

Glyphs were the basis of runes. A rune was comprised of many individual glyphs, like sentences were comprised of words. And like words, they could be used alone, but only when made into a sentence could a glyph’s ability fully be utilized.

The more complex a rune, the more glyphs it contained. The universal classification of common, unusual, rare, fabled, and unique was based on the number of glyphs a rune had. Common runes had anywhere from one to forty, unusual had up to seventy, rare had up to a hundred, fabled up to 150, and unique had any number above that.

Monty’s “Duality”, for example, was composed of exactly 222 glyphs. At a glance, Emma’s rune had around 140, putting it in the upper class of fabled runes.

However, having a larger amount of glyphs was not always a good thing. More glyphs required a proportionally higher activation cost and although the increase was not linear, at times the cost would outweigh the benefits. In the end, it was the rune's effect and usefulness to the user that determined its viability.

Monty recognized the glyph that replaced the enflamed figure’s face. Such a glyph… for it to be the foundation of the rune… he shook his head. An ability like this certainly wasn’t bad. For some, it could even be considered first-class below unique runes.

Minutes passed and the rune began to stabilize. The glow diminished and Emma’s back showed faint signs of healing. Monty sighed; his hand resting gently over the crucified figure. Such an amazing rune, even he felt a pang of envy. The fleeting notion didn’t last long. Monty promised himself he would obtain an even better rune as his third, one that was unrivaled in this world.

It didn’t take long for Monty to finish strengthening the sub-orb in Emma. Originally, he planned on deceiving Emma into following him back to the manor and finishing his experiment, but he had instantly thrown that plan away. She was a tier-three mage and one so young at that. Killing her in an experiment would be a waste.

Or rather, it would be better to say he just had to be careful in preserving her life.

Monty was still smiling as he turned to the clock. Seeing the time, his face immediately soured. It had already been fifty minutes since the owner left, she could be back at any moment. Hearing the door open, his face turned ugly.

“I hope you’re still alive Emma, then again, with the recent amount of customers, I doubt anyone even entered the store.” A female voice playfully drifted through the air, accompanied by the sound of a door softly closing. She had entered through the front door, revealing a cursing Monty and mutilated Emma.

The weighty cloth sack in her hand dropped to the ground, producing a dull thud. The woman’s pleased expression sank as an atrocious smell hit her senses, pervading her nose and mouth. A smell she was all too familiar with, the stench of burnt flesh.

Not caring for the sugar she brought from home, the woman rushed explosively towards the shady cloaked figure standing over Emma. His posture was quite suggestive, and she couldn’t help but fear the worst. Noticing his hand hovering over Emma’s scorched back, the woman increased her already-rapid pace.

She drew back her fist as a yellow spark surged across her skin. The spark rapidly grew to a small current before becoming a raging torrent of lightning.

“A lightning rune! Then she must be…” Monty paled beneath the hood of his cloak. There were only around a hundred creation-tier, commonly known as tier-three, mages on the Greyson plateau. For the store owner to be one… what garbage luck is that?

Monty only had time to raise his arms defensively and activate his second rune before the woman’s fist arrived. Like a hammer slamming into his forearms, the punch sent him flying through a table and slamming into the shop’s wall. Monty grit his teeth. An electrical current rampaged throughout his body, numbing his muscles and paralyzing him.

He slumped to the ground, unable to lift even his head. Hearing the woman’s footsteps nearing him, Monty swiftly pumped mana through his second rune. Only then could he move.

“Wait, stop, I was trying to help her. I didn’t do this.” Monty stammered, covering his head with his arms. The woman, who had her arm cocked for another swing, paused.

Monty looked up. Being a few seconds away from having his face caved in hadn’t phased him. Ignoring the emerging pain in his arms, he patted his knees and stood. It appeared as if the punch had no effect.

Originally, Monty wanted to leave with Emma through the back door. He had put on his cloak for that very reason. Unfortunately, Monty had been too immersed, too focused on Emma’s rune and not enough on the clock. He hadn’t been paying attention and it cost him. Monty grimaced as his arms protested with the slightest movement.

But he had to suck it up. There was a tier-three mage callously glaring at him, waiting for an explanation. He couldn’t afford to screw up. A plan formed in his mind, one that took advantage of his second rune as well as his knowledge of who the shop owner was. There was always a way.

Standing apprehensively, Monty slowly raised his hands and lifted the hood off his head, revealing his face to the woman.

Bright grey eyes and near-white hair. He was unrecognizable to anyone who hadn’t seen him before. Giving off the impression of an erudite scholar, Monty had transformed into a completely different person. Although Duality was powerful, it was his second rune that was the most versatile.

Quickly pulling his thoughts together, Monty began to spin his story.

“Uhm, can I get your name Miss…?” He questioned, wanting to confirm the woman’s identity.

“I am Silva Sorrento.” She declared, her hands resting on her hips in a boisterous fashion. Confidence and a hint of narcissism radiated from her. She obviously didn’t believe Monty could escape, even though he blocked her attack. Silva lowered her gaze from the ceiling, her eyes focusing on Monty's face.

Monty tilted his head. As her height barely reached his shoulders, he couldn’t help but think that Silva is exactly the character rumors claimed she was. Champagne hair and sharp eyebrows, even with her short stature she had a dominant aura about her. Monty scrunched his eyebrows together, appearing perplexed.

Apologetically, he replied, “I’m sorry, but I’m afraid that I haven’t heard your name before, Miss Silva. I have just arrived here a few days ago and am not aware of all the grand figures of this plateau. Could you enlighten me…?”

Silva’s face reddened, nonplussed that Monty hadn’t heard of her. A person of his caliber, one able to take a near full-force punch of hers with no injury, should be informed of all the tier-three mages on the plateau. It didn’t matter that he had just arrived, the force behind him must have given him the information beforehand.

“Miss Silva?” Monty probed, rather uneasy about her response. He had spoken based on his first impression of her, as well as the rumors he heard over the years. Knowing he couldn’t judge someone’s personality in such a short amount of time, Monty couldn’t help but tense up in anticipation to her reply.

Silva frowned, causing Monty to flinch. She crossed her arms before closing her eyes.

Smirking, she said, “I’ll forgiv… I’ll enlighten you then. I, Silva Sorrento, am the representative of his Majesty’s armed forces for the Greyson plateau. My words are his and his commands are mine.” She boasted, opening one eye to peek at Monty. In response, Monty opened his eyes and mouth, appearing shocked at her grand identity. His ridiculous expression worked, as Silva looked pleased with herself.

Naturally, Monty already knew who she was. The king she was referring to wasn’t the Greysons but Erwin Kallias, the sole ruler of the Kingdom of Murate. With that kind of backing, she had every reason to be arrogant.

“Anyway, who are you? What force do you belong to? I have never seen you before nor have I gotten any news about someone moving to this plateau, especially of your caliber.” Silva asked cautiously.

Monty scratched the back of his head, as if embarrassed by his previous reaction. “I am Noah Edel, a traveler. I'm afraid I don’t belong to any forces as of now.”

Silva recoiled at his answer. Alarmed, she cautiously scrutinized Monty. Travelers never traveled because they wanted to. Between plateaus was a no man’s land, inhospitable and desolate or submerged in water depending on your proximity to the ocean. It was better to live at the very bottom of a plateau than to spend time outside one.

“Please don’t misunderstand.” Monty hastily explained, seeing her caution and specifically her scrutiny. “I am a rune appraiser, so I don’t physically travel between plateaus. I just take the Kite Service.”

“Oh!” Silva blushed. She had assumed the worst. With Monty’s demeanor, there was no way he had been exiled from his original plateau. Just him being at the top of the plateau made it unlikely that he was a criminal. Only nobles were allowed here.

Monty fanned his hand, not displaying any sign of irritation or bravado. Silva sighed in relief before remarking, “So you’re a rune appraiser? That’s quite the lucrative job you got.”

Chuckling lightly, Monty humbly acknowledged her comment. “That’s true, but I travel too often. My income hardly balances with the Kite’s expenses, not to mention food and housing. That’s why I entered this shop when I sensed a rune awakening. Another job is always welcome, even more so one by a tier-three mage.”

He turned to the almost-healed Emma. “Imagine my surprise when I found her lying on the floor, suffering due to the creation of her third rune. I couldn’t just do nothing, so I moved her to the counter to administer some medicine. Just as I had begun to treat her, you arrived.”

Hearing what happened, Silva apologized. With the recent situation of the Greyson plateau, along with her working in law enforcement, she had been high-strung recently. Monty wearing a black cloak along with the injured Emma triggered her nerves.

“No worries, Miss Silva. I understand. The whole plateau is skittish now due to the Cult showing signs of war. I myself am not feeling too well.” Monty graciously said, understanding her actions.

Silva nodded in appreciation and looked at Emma. “Truthfully, I hadn’t expected Emma, that’s her name, to awaken her third rune any time soon. Due to certain reasons, I am housing her for the time being and she’s helping me run my shop.”

“Oh? This is your shop?”

“That’s right.” Silva confirmed. “I often have spare time since my job is responsive rather than active. The Greyson plateau has been quiet for the past few decades, so I have been dabbling in the culinary arts.”

“Dabbling indeed.” Monty thought to himself. For her to achieve this level of proficiency, it seemed that she really hadn’t had much to do. Perceiving Silva’s distress, Monty comforted her, “You don’t have to worry about Emma. From what I’ve seen, her healing abilities are top-notch. Once the rune settles down, I’ll bet she’ll leave without a single scar.”

Silva exhaled but continued to watch Emma. Her brow was creased in worry. Monty knew she was in no way adept at the study of runes or medicine, so Emma’s third rune filled even her with trepidation. A crucified woman couldn’t be considered anything but ominous.

“Noah…” Silva began, “Could you tell me the name of Emma’s rune? I won’t let you do it for free.”

Monty smiled broadly, displaying his flawless teeth, and answered, “Sure, I’ll take you up on that offer.”

He continued; his grey eyes glowing murkily. If one were to look closely, deep within his eyes, they would find a fervor. A fervor so dominant, so tyrannical it could be called border-line zealotry. His passion for runes, for schemes, for life were insignificant compared to it.

“You see” Monty spoke, his voice taking a deeper, near eerie tone,

“Emma’s third rune is called Sacrifice.”