The Runic Alchemist

"...And then he tried to kill us all with a spear that exploded, missing us by just a little due to his bad aim..."

"Hah! Such a barbaric thing happened! In my city?" said the Lord Commander, his bulbous nose flaring as he spoke in his richly decorated tent.

"Lord Commander, I was there. The spear was a warning to their group and their hired thugs. It exploded at a safe distance from them," Mira defended her student.

Damian just stood in the middle, right in front of the Lord Commander, flanked by Sam and the rest of his friends. To his right were the pompous kids who had attacked them in the street, and to his left were three captains, trying their best to resolve the matter.

The leader of the pompous group was the son of a noble with close ties to the region's lord—the same Lord Commander who now staring down at Damian as if he were a cockroach in his kitchen.

"I have heard enough. He raised his hand against nobility. All five of them shall be hanged. Take them outside and prepare the gallows..." the Lord Commander announced, yawning, not even considering his decision for a second.

"My lord, such a thing is—"

"Commander, he is our best—"

"Lord Commander, please reconsider—"

"ENOUGH! Do not forget your place. My word is the law here, or have you forgotten that?" the Lord Commander barked, his voice cutting through their protests like a blade.

"My lord, this is unjust. He has done nothing wrong; it was self-defense," the spellsword captain protested, stepping forward.

"Just because you are Kiyoma does not mean I will tolerate such blatant disrespect! Consider this your first and last warning, captain," the Lord Commander replied coldly, leaving no room for further argument.

Damian had expected this outcome. His friends, however, were beyond shocked—except for Sam, who had also anticipated this treatment. Another person who was so shocked that her fists made the air around them tremble with the pressure of her aura. Captain Mira had not expected their lord to act like a complete villain.

Well, she wasn't from here; she had come with the reserve army, so that was understandable.

Sam fell to his knees, tears trailing down his chubby cheeks. "I... I... It's all my fault... If I just hadn't... those...

bastards... I am so sorry..." Captain Mira immediately held him in her arms, protecting him like her own child. However, a sound of laughter came from the other side of the tent, where the group of brats was smirking and struggling to hold back their laughter. The Lord Commander gestured to the guards to get them, but the three captains escorted them out before they could come near.

Valoris, the spellsword captain, placed a hand on Damian's shoulder, standing beside him but avoiding eye contact. Meanwhile, the mage captain, Royce, tried to console the rest, though none were in the mood to be comforted. The shock of their impending demise was too overwhelming for their young minds to process.

"I am so sorry, Maximus. This is just plain wrong... There isn't even a shred of honor in that toad of a man..." Valoris muttered.

"It's not over yet," Damian said, turning around and heading back into the tent. The captains and the others followed behind him.

Facing the Lord Commander's fat, beady eyes, Damian raised his hand and pointed directly at him. "I call your justice unworthy, Lord of Pyron. Under the eternal sun, who guides and witnesses us all, I demand a trial by combat."

"You've got guts, child. I'll give you that," the Lord Commander sneered. "Fine, if you wish for a brutal death instead of a quick one. Since you've questioned my judgment, my own knight will fight you."

One silver lining—if it could be called that—in this strength-above-all-else society was the right to challenge. If you were powerful, nothing could stop you except someone even more powerful. The right to demand a trial by combat was older than the people themselves in these lands. Questioning a lord's judgment meant questioning his authority and power over the region.

No lord could take such a thing lightly, and they always sent their most powerful warrior to fight as their champion—or, in rare cases, the lord himself would face the challenger. But that rarely happened. No one usually challenged a lord's decision and invoked the trial by combat because the consequences were dire.

And even if Damian somehow managed to win, there were countless other ways for the lord to find him at fault and get rid of him. It was mostly a useless exercise these days. Yet, it gave Damian a chance—and a chance was all he needed.

Even with the challenge, they were escorted to one of the abandoned wooden buildings and locked in a room on the top floor. All six of them were together; the captains themselves had come to do the deed. No one reacted to Damian's challenge since they all knew the lord had no honor. Even if Damian won, they were done for in this city.

Despite the captains' wishes, two guards tied up their hands and legs, leaving them alone in the cold, drafty room. The captains also left without saying anything; there was nothing they could say to ease their despair, so silence was the best decision.

Alone in the room, the cold breeze continued to blow through the half-broken window, and snow piled up from the gaps in the roof. Sam was still sobbing, and everyone else looked on the verge of tears. At last, the reality of their situation hit them.

"You... You should have killed them..." Einar spat out. Everyone looked up at him for a second before dropping their gazes again.

"No... It's my fault... I shouldn't have messed with them in the first place..." Sam said between sobs.

"It doesn't matter anymore, does it? Why did I even think for a second that it would be anything else?" Yovan murmured.

"This isn't over yet," Damian said slowly.

"He doesn't care about trial by combat, Maximus! Why do you think he accepted it so easily?" Jorven said, his voice rising in frustration.

"At least if he dies this way, it will be honorable. But hanging..." Geldric, usually the strongest among them, trailed off, thinking about their impending doom.

"Trust me, nothing will happen to any of you. And if you don't, I can get you out of here and help you run away... though I would advise against it," Damian said, trying to prevent them from spiraling further into despair.

All of them instantly looked up into his eyes, and whatever they saw convinced them that he could save them.

"Why? If we can run away now, why shouldn't we?" Einar asked, his voice regaining some of its usual tone.

"Can you really get us out of here?" Geldric asked, clinging to their last ray of hope.

"I can free us, but we won't be able to run away without a lot of luck and effort. However, is that really what we want? A lifetime of running from a pompous fool of a lord? What would happen to those we leave behind? Your grandma? Your uncle?

Believe me when I say running away isn't as good as it sounds. This is your home. Are you truly prepared to leave it forever? Assuming we can even make it to the docks..." Damian had thought of a grim plan to save them, but he needed their support.

"I can't... I can't go without her..." Yovan confessed.

"I can't shame my uncle's name..." Geldric looked away, nodding at Jorven with a sad expression.

"So? What's it to you? You have no one here, and from the sounds of it, you've already run away once. You want us to just wait and hope that you'll win and somehow the lord will let us go?" Einar said, growing more emotional. Damian couldn't blame him; at the end of the day, they were just children.

"If you wish to run, then I will make it possible for you. But know that it will seal the rest of our fates—we will have no other choice but to run. I know you have every right not to, but just trust me. I will not let them harm any of you," Damian said, meeting each of their eyes.

"I will not run... even if all of you do," Yovan declared. Einar didn't say anything but stared at Damian for a while before slightly nodding. Good, at least they were with him. He knew he was taking on a huge responsibility by keeping them alive, but this was the only way to avoid being pushed around by the Lord of Pyron. The only way to their freedom.

Running in this camp filled with soldiers was not a very clever idea, Damian would have done it if he thought it was the best way. The idea in his mind was not easier either. Maybe it was more difficult to achieve then the running away one but in this one luck had no part, all depended on Damian's own hands. But that's what Damian always liked better though, his fate in his own hands.