The stone halls of Feo Berkana were quieter now, save for the muffled clang of a blacksmith's hammer echoing faintly through the tunnels. The dwarves were rebuilding, regathering strength. But I had other priorities.
I was walking toward one of the deeper chambers where Gondo Firebeard had taken up temporary lodging. The halls were dimly lit with glowing stones embedded into the walls—runes of basic utility magic, still functional despite their age. As I passed them, I felt a flicker of interest.
Rune Craft. Once a dying art, buried beneath the overwhelming rise of more flexible enchantments and magic systems. But now, thanks to Death's suggestion, it had become the single most intriguing thing in this entire mountain.
Originally, I had little interest in this dwarven legacy. Ainz had tried to salvage it for YGGDRASIL knowledge and perhaps utility, but I had no such nostalgic connection. That is, until Death—a woman who rarely voiced thoughts unrelated to sex or love—offered an idea that even I had to pause for.
It sounded insane at first. But the more I considered it, the more the potential revealed itself.
If I could engrave runes onto my flesh—permanently or semi-permanently—it could act as a layer of enchantment that bypassed the normal gear system. Not only for me, but for all of Nazarick.
Shalltear, for example. One of the most powerful guardians, undone only by her fatal weakness to holy magic and her recklessness. But what if I carved into her flesh a rune that counteracted holy spells? Not a resistance potion or gear—something internal. Something permanent.
And Demiurge… His strength, intelligence, and cruelty were already unmatched. What if I added a rune that boosted his physical strength or resilience? Combined with his already overpowered abilities, he would become an even more terrifying tactician and warrior.
Even Albedo. A rune to reinforce her already powerful defense or perhaps grant her immunity to specific effects.
I could see it. Not just utility—evolution. Nazarick, reforged through dwarven runes.
From what I understood, Rune Craft did not interact with race or class negatively. It was considered an external augmentation, like armor. But what about skills? That was still unclear. Could runes interfere with class-based skills or racial abilities? That was something I'd need to find out.
If it worked flawlessly… I'd unlock a new layer of power for Nazarick—one Ainz never discovered.
I turned the corner, stopping outside a thick iron door. Two dwarven guards stood outside, eyeing me with suspicion. Their hands twitched near their weapons. Understandable, considering my group's strength and my apparent lack of alignment.
"I'm here to see Gondo," I said calmly. "He's expecting me."
They didn't respond right away, but one of them knocked twice, then opened the door inward.
"Let him in."
Gondo sat at a wide workbench, surrounded by sheets of parchment, dull rune-engraved metal slabs, and a dozen different carving tools. The air inside smelled of metal and stone—like something ancient was being unearthed in this room.
"So," I finally said, breaking the quiet, "what do you think about what I mentioned earlier?"
Gondo didn't answer immediately. He set down his tool and leaned back with a long sigh. "I don't know," he muttered.
"Why not?" I asked, voice calm but direct. "I'm offering you a path most can only dream of. A workshop built with the finest materials, funding beyond imagination, and freedom—real freedom—to continue your craft without limitation."
"It's not about that." Gondo's voice became quiet, then he looked at the surroundings to see if anyone was watching. "What you asked me is to carve the rune in flesh; that's a dark art. I know most of you adventurers are trying to get stronger, but this is something no one can handle."
"Rune Craft was never meant for it. Even the old masters who tried it left their journals half-finished. You don't want to know why."
"I think I do," I said, stepping closer, my voice like a whisper of wind through a crypt. "Because those who tried it were human."
Gondo frowned. "And you're not?"
I smiled, a slow, cold expression that let my canines show just slightly. "No, Gondo. I'm not human. I'm a vampire."
The room went still.
Gondo stared at me, not in fear, but in realization. The pieces started to fit. My inhuman strength. The calm I held in the presence of monsters. The presence that followed me like a storm on the edge of the senses.
"…Aye," he said at last, his voice barely above a breath. "I thought something was off. Never guessed vampire, though."
"You are awfully calm." I said. In this world, a vampire is a symbol of fear and blood.
"You think so? I am actually scared shitless." Gondo said.
"That changes things, doesn't it?" I asked. "The limitations you were worried about—pain, heat, death. They're irrelevant."
"Maybe for you," Gondo said, his voice low, "but it's not just about pain. The body rejects what isn't meant to be there. You can hammer runes into armor because it's dead steel. But flesh? Flesh resists. Heals. Changes. It might work for a moment, a day, maybe a week—but eventually, it breaks down. You think you're solving the problem, but you could be creating a worse one."
"I'm not looking for temporary," I replied. "That's why I came to you. You're the best Rune Smith left alive, Gondo. And I'm not asking you to figure it out alone. You'll have resources beyond what you've ever seen. Access to alchemical research, magical archives... and subjects who don't break."
He leaned forward, folding his arms across the workbench. "You want me to go from craftsman to mad scholar."
"No," I corrected. "I want you to become a legend."
~~~
(This Arc is over in my Patreon and nex Arc is One Piece.)
You can join my Patreon for 3$. Around 250+ advanced chapters on my Patreon. I posted some exclusive NFSW on each R-18 chapter for you to enjoy.
Support me through my Patreon. It would be a big help
Support me:
patreon.com/BlackBolt517