The Runic Alchemist

Reize broke his reverie by gently picking up the doll from under the Toph. "This is…a real iron golem. We did it. It's so…small."n/ô/vel/b//jn dot c//om

Toph had finally managed to pounce on the doll, wearing a victorious grin as he sat on it.

Damian smirked. "Think this will get us into the library's forbidden section?"

Reize frowned skeptically. "You'd reveal this? It's a method to create an iron golem."

"It only works in the Veil of Confinement," he replied.

"The spell doesn't differentiate. It just gathers whatever material is nearby. That's how it works. If steel's confined, it makes a steel golem. How did you come up with this? Better yet, what else can we use to make a golem?" she asked eagerly.

"Mostly metals and alloys. Some work, some don't. I'd like to try Sacrium, but steel can't hold enough mana to manipulate that stuff."

"Sacrium? No way. That's impossible."

"Yeah…"

"Still," Damian said, changing the subject, "I'll need your help to make other things like these. So I guess we can work together.. Together, we could tackle bigger projects. But first, let's check the library for anything useful. They can keep this little guy."

Reize nodded enthusiastically, her smile almost infectious. "Do you want to go to that thing tomorrow?"

"Hm? What thing?" Damian asked.

"That stupid gala," she said, her tone laced with disdain. "I hate those events, but they said they'd cut my funding if I don't attend." A faint blush dusted her olive skin.

Huh.? Was she asking him out.?

She was probably one of the oldest here, maybe 18 or 19. Though she was shorter, there was only a few centimeters' difference in their height. Her horns and fluffy ears certainly added to her unique presence.

This.. had never happened before to him. Or was he overthinking? Maybe she just wanted someone to talk to while they were there.

Damian agreed with a smile. She was a beautiful girl, and it would indeed be nice to have more company, especially while his noble friends mingled with their peers.

****

The next day felt much the same as the others that week, though a strange mix of excitement and fear rippled through the students, all in anticipation of the gala later that night. Classes were still in their beginner phase, covering concepts Damian was already familiar with. Rarely did he encounter anything he didn't already know. There were some tidbits though, not much useful but new for him.

The aura practice, however, proved helpful. Bloodedge led them through exercise drills before teaching new techniques, giving students time to perfect their moves. Damian focused on channeling his aura as best as he could. He had managed to form a thin black layer around himself and coat his sword, but aura slashes were still beyond his reach. Sam, Einar, and even Lucian often spent time beside him, offering advice on better techniques. Damian understood their guidance, but what he truly needed was more practice.

Seeing him work diligently, many other students began improving their aura control during exercises or technique drills. Bloodedge said nothing about it, but Damian often felt watched. Perhaps it was just his teacher observing his progress, but it was nothing to dwell on. Slowly but surely, Damian was getting the hang of it. However, reaching the level of a pugilist—where he could coat his entire body in aura—was years of effort away.

Sam had mastered it in just two years, though he'd started practicing immediately after Damian left the Pyron army training camp. Sam often mentioned that his lightning abilities helped guide his aura, allowing him to focus more easily without mana. His aura was also weirdly mixed up with his abilities.

Kazak had once explained that aura was tied to emotions—a force one could channel. Damian always kept those words in mind during practice. It truly did seem to respond to his feelings. However, he was not a very emotional person, having learned to suppress his feelings during his time at the orphanage and later while assisting sister Hadley in church duties. His overwhelming mana sense also made it harder for him to progress beyond a certain point compared to others.

Aura was like a muscle—it required regular and long-term training to build and maintain its strength.

By the day's end, Damian decided to heed his friends' advice and take an evening off to relax. After napping with Toph following classes, Sam appeared at his door, already dressed in a fancy suit for the gala. He banged on the door until Damian let him in, then immediately berated him for still sleeping. Damian rolled his eyes, grabbed Toph, and headed for the bath.

Once dressed, Damian used a water blade to check his reflection while Sam stood beside him. It wasn't his first time attending such an event. Sam and Einar, in particular, often attended noble gatherings with the princess and boasted a wardrobe full of elegant outfits. Damian, too, had attended major events at the Eldoris palace, giving him his fair share of fancy clothes.

"What's going on with your clothes?" Damian asked, noticing a misplaced part of Sam's undershirt sticking out.

"It's too complicated! I barely managed to put it on," Sam grumbled.

Damian sighed and adjusted his friend's attire. "Don't you attend galas every week?"

"The maids and butlers always dressed me," Sam replied with a sheepish grin.

Now ready, Damian picked up Toph, and they stepped out of his room. He knocked on Reize's door, and she answered a few seconds later, dressed in a silky white gown that seemed custom-made for her. She looked... impressive. Smiling, she locked her door, and together they headed for the gala.

On their way to the gala hall, they met up with the rest of their group, each dressed in attire fitting their noble status. Grace and Evrin's garments were particularly extravagant, while Damian stuck to his simple black suit. Sam had a maroon fancy looking lace suit, while Einar was in a simple white shirt and stylish black pants - she was not one for dress up, though anything she wore looked like a straight out of a fashion show. The garish colors favored by men in the royal circle were not to his taste. Even at Eldoris, the palace staff had never commented on his preference for subdued attire, always appearing pleased and smiling whenever they helped him dress and made his ruffled hair—especially the women.