The Runesmith - Chapter 639 – Scary Wolf.

“How did we end up bringing a useless bastard like you all the way to the third ring?”
The words ended with a dull thud as Ermes’s back struck the stone wall of the alley. Several tools slipped from his grasp and clattered to the ground, their noise swallowed by the surrounding sound of the district. Three figures stood over him, blocking his path. Each wore mismatched gear that looked ill-suited for real combat. Large backpacks rested against the wall to either side, with another lying near where the blacksmith had fallen.
Ermes raised his hands slowly, palms out. His fingers were thick and calloused, blackened permanently by soot and forge smoke. He was broad-shouldered and strong, but there was a difference between the strength of a craftsman and that of someone with a combat class, like these three were.
“I told you…”
Ermes said, forcing his voice to stay steady.
“I was hired to assist with maintenance and logistics. I’m not meant to be a porter.”
A fist slammed into his stomach, ripping the breath from his lungs. He doubled over on instinct, his knees buckling.
“Don’t talk back.”
The man snarled as he raised his fist, ready to strike the man lying on the ground. Ermes lifted his hand to shield his face, but he did not cower. His eyes remained wide and defiant. Just as the blow was about to fall, a strange growl echoed behind them.
“Grrrr…”
“Huh?”
All three goons turned around. Behind them stood a massive wolf-like creature covered in blue sapphires. Its size rivaled that of a horse, towering over everyone present. It opened its maw to reveal rows of sharp teeth slick with dripping saliva. The men recoiled in shock, scrambling backward in fear, but Ermes did not move. Instead, his gaze fixed on the harness and armor the creature wore. To a blacksmith like him, the intricate runes and masterful craftsmanship were breathtaking, clearly the work of a true master.
“W-what is this beast!”
“S-stay back!”
The large wolf took a step forward, the gems embedded in its body glowing brightly. It snarled at the trio, who had no idea what to do. They glanced around in desperation, but no master of the beast could be seen, and there were no other adventurers nearby to help them. They had dragged the blacksmith to a secluded spot, and now that decision had backfired.
“Rrrr…”
Blue flames flickered to life between the wolf’s teeth. They surged forward, forming a small fiery cloud as the beast exhaled. The adventurers staggered back as the heat washed over them. The creature padded closer, its flames licking the stone and turning gray rock into charred black.
The smell of scorched stone filled the air. Suddenly, the creature snapped its jaws as if it were about to pounce.
“FUCK THIS!”
One of the men screamed and bolted, abandoning the others without a second thought. The remaining two fled immediately, panic stripping away what little bravado they had left. One slipped on loose gravel and barely managed to scramble back to his feet, sobbing curses as they ran toward a more populated area. None of them looked back, leaving the blacksmith alone behind them.
Ermes stayed frozen for a bit longer, chest heaving as he listened to the retreating footsteps fade into the noise of the district. The massive wolf snorted, blue flames sputtering out as easily as they had formed. The glow of the sapphires dimmed to a calm shimmer and for some reason, the beast just sat down.
For a moment, the man stared at the monstrous wolf, yet for some reason, he could not feel any animosity coming from it. It was as if the creature did not want to harm him. Eventually, he heard footsteps approaching from the other side. A robed man emerged, his steps slow and heavy. Though he could not clearly see what the man wore, it was obvious that the garments were heavy armor, something a blacksmith like him could easily detect.
“Amun.”
The man spoke in a low tone, somewhat otherworldly, as though it carried a strange power. Ermes flinched and twisted around, scrambling to his feet despite the ache in his ribs. He understood at once that this figure must be the owner of the beast that had perhaps just saved him. Even so, he could not yet relax, knowing that a single mistake might still leave him between those sharp wolven teeth.
The stranger stepped forward, and the wind caught his cloak, blowing it aside and revealing a few more details. Ermes could now see what he had missed earlier. The quality of the gauntlet, the subtle enchantments woven into the greaves, and the way the massive wolf became docile the moment the man appeared. It was instantly clear that this adventurer was powerful and not someone to be mocked.
“You there…”
“Yes!?”
The old blacksmith snapped to attention as the man held something out toward him. It appeared to be a parchment, and soon the man asked a question.
“Is this the correct spot?”
For a moment, they lingered like that, the hand still outstretched, until Ermes finally understood what was happening. Slowly, with trembling hands, he took the piece of paper and began to read. Just as he had expected, this man was part of the same expedition into the dungeon.
******
‘He looks scared. Agni might have overdone it a bit.’
Roland glanced over at Agni, who was sitting with his tongue hanging out. His current name had been changed to Amun, an old Egyptian deity often depicted with blue skin, much like the sapphire blue that now covered Agni’s body.
He had urged his wolf partner to scare the three adventurers a bit since he needed an excuse to intervene. This blacksmith was the man he had decided to protect, as he was dead set on heading into the third layer of the super dungeon. While the situation was not ideal, it allowed him to see with his own eyes how the guild operated.
“Y-yes.”
The blacksmith spoke with a shaking voice at first, but it eventually calmed when he realized that Roland was not there to hurt him.
“This is… this is the eastern gathering point. Third ring escort group. That’s the one.”
Roland inclined his head slightly and withdrew his hand once the parchment was returned. The simple motion seemed to ease some of the pressure in the air, though Ermes’s shoulders remained hunched, as if he expected another blow at any moment.
“Did I interrupt at a bad time?”
He glanced toward the tools still scattered on the ground, searching for an answer. His agent had provided some basic information on the people participating in this expedition, but nothing specific. There was a chance that someone here had been hired to ensure Ermes never reached his family.
The three who had attacked him were suspects. They were ordinary tier two class holders working as porters. When expeditions into areas restricted to Platinum and Mithril adventurers were organized, porters needed a combat class to keep up with the group.
It seemed they wanted the blacksmith to serve as one as well, which could prove disastrous since he likely lacked the stats needed to escape monsters lurking in the deeper parts of the dungeon. It was possible, but he expected someone in a higher position to be pulling the strings, as tier two class holders were far too weak to be trusted with such a task.
“Oh, that? It’s nothing, just a small misunderstanding between people. Think nothing of it!”
“Is that so…”
Ermes looked distant, as if he did not trust Roland or understand why he was being asked. Perhaps he feared the newcomer was searching for dirt to use against him later. Gossip was frowned upon, but there could be other reasons. He might simply have not wanted to involve Roland in the mess that had been created.
“I really didn’t mean to cause any more trouble, good sir…”
Ermes started talking, as if he wanted to say something important. However, before he could continue, hurried footsteps echoed from the direction the three porters had fled. The blacksmith flinched and turned toward the sound, and Roland did the same. Three figures appeared. They were the same adventurers who had fled earlier, but their expressions were very different now. They looked confident, no longer alone.
Behind them walked a man in his early forties, tall and broad, clad in well-maintained green scale armor clearly crafted from a powerful beast. His gear showed signs of use, but it was also heavily enchanted, every enhancement runic in nature. A longsword hung at his right side and a shortsword at his left, both enchanted weapons forged from high-quality metal.
‘Is that the leader?’
Roland asked himself as he analyzed the situation. His initial scans showed that this man had the highest level present, though more figures were approaching from behind. Three others followed him, all fighter types wielding enchanted weapons, each at least a Platinum-ranked adventurer.
“Captain, that’s it, that’s the beast that tried to attack us!”
The trio of goons now hid behind the tier three adventurers and pointed at Agni, who was sitting there minding his own business. The supposed leader raised an eyebrow and glanced at both the wolf and his owner. His boots scraped softly against the stone as he lifted a hand to stop his men from drawing their weapons.
“Easy now.”
The man’s voice carried a quiet authority. It was the sort of tone that assumed obedience rather than demanded it. His men hesitated, hands hovering near their hilts before reluctantly pulling back. It was clear he was in control, and for some reason, he was called a captain, even though he did not appear to belong to the city watch or any noble army.
He stepped forward alone, stopping a few paces from Roland. Up close, the man looked weathered rather than old. His eyes carried the wisdom of countless battles, and Roland was certain he was already assessing the situation. He quickly noticed that Agni was a tamed beast and that the three porters were likely not telling the full truth, as there was no blood spilled anywhere.
“Impressive companion you have there,”
The man said, tilting his head slightly toward Agni.
“Not many can keep a tier three beast that disciplined.”
Agni answered with a low, rumbling huff. A trace of blue flame escaped his nose, enough to scare off the men who had bothered the blacksmith, though not the seasoned tier three adventurers they had brought along. Roland rested one gauntleted hand against the wolf’s neck, a silent display of control.
“If my companion intended harm, your men would not be standing.”
The leader’s lips twitched as if he found the statement amusing.
“So I see.”
His gaze shifted briefly to the three porters cowering behind his men.
“You three have a habit of exaggerating.”
“B-but captain!”
One of them tried to defend himself, but before he could -ue, their leader spoke in a strangely calm tone.
“Quiet.”
The word was soft, yet its effect was immediate. The porter snapped his mouth shut and shrank back. The man then turned his full attention to Roland and offered a polite nod.
“My name is Varek. Captain Varek to my men. And who might you be, friend? Is this man perhaps your acquaintance?”
Varek glanced at Ermes, who remained silent. Roland sensed that the old blacksmith feared this man, and in response, he shook his head.
“No. I was just asking for directions.”
Roland then took out the adventurer’s note and showed it to the leader. After reading it, Varek smiled.
“Ah, so you are a new comrade. Welcome.”
Varek seemed happy. A smile appeared on his face, and he made an exaggerated movement with his hands. Roland, on the other hand, was not sure he was buying it. To the more inexperienced, Varek might have seemed like a welcoming person, but Roland could see through him. The men around Varek feared him and were even now ready to draw their weapons at any moment.
“Well then.”
Varek said, clapping his hands together once.
“Since we are all heading to the same place, there is no sense lingering here. We still have time before departure. Might as well eat and meet the rest of our party.”
He turned on his heel without waiting for an answer and started walking toward the main street. His men fell in behind him automatically, the three porters scurrying after them like subdued dogs. One of them shot Ermes a venomous look, but a glance from Varek was enough to make him lower his eyes and pick up his pace.
Roland did not look at the blacksmith, careful not to let his intent be noticed. Without saying anything, he followed after them. Agni rose to his feet and padded after Roland, drawing more than a few wary looks as they followed Varek and his people.
Soon they arrived at a large restaurant near where their group was packing. The trio of porters, along with Ermes, were ordered to keep working while Roland and Varek headed inside. The behavior was exactly what Roland had expected, as the divide between class tiers was firmly cemented in these people’s minds. While the others worked, the tier three combatants rested, chatted, and ate to their hearts’ content.
The restaurant was already half full when they entered, its wide interior built to accommodate armored patrons without complaint. Long oak tables filled the hall, reinforced with metal bands and etched with old, unknown insignias. The air was thick with the smell of roasted meat, spiced ale, and sweat.
“Let us go, everyone is already waiting inside.”
Varek didn’t slow his pace. He led Roland straight toward the back, where a raised section separated by a low railing overlooked the main floor. A server took one look at the captain’s armor and stepped aside without a word.
Roland followed him up the short steps. From there, he could clearly see the rest of the hall and the people he would be spending the next few days with. He began to count, and from what he could tell, there were fifteen tier three class holders at the table. Men and women of various races and classes. Every one of them was a potential assassin and someone he might have to contend with during this trip.
Heavy armor was stacked against the walls, enchanted weapons rested within arm’s reach, and magical trinkets glimmered openly. Laughter broke out in bursts as they drank and got to know one another.
“So did you hear?”
A scarred woman in red leather said to her companions, raising a mug.
“The western tunnel collapsed again. Took a whole party with it.”
“Serves them right,”
Another replied with a shrug.
“They were fishing above their tier.”
Roland took a seat as Varek gestured for him to join the others. Agni was forced to stay outside, but when some adventurers peeked out through the window, they noticed him.
“Nice beast.”
Someone muttered.
“Bound or tamed?”
“Who knows? But those gems look like they would fetch some gold.”
The adventurers laughed, watching the wolf’s owner as though they expected a reaction. Roland did not answer. He sat in silence and leaned a massive sword against the wall, a sight that made several pairs of eyes gleam with greed.
“So, if I am unlucky, all of these people might come after me during the trip.”
This was quite the gathering of tier three class holders. Together, they could take out a small army, and he would be traveling alongside them. Any one of them could become his enemy, and he had no idea who was truly after the blacksmith.
“Not much of a talker, are you, sugar?”
Some time passed before a rather large woman approached him. She appeared to be a barbarian, standing over two meters tall. Beside her stood another figure, barely half her height, wrapped in a hooded robe inlaid with multiple enchantments. A mage.
“…”
Roland slowly lifted his gaze, meeting the barbarian’s grin while his face remained hidden beneath his hood.
“I know what you’re hiding there. No need to conceal it.”
The smaller figure spoke next, his voice unmistakably that of an old man. He pushed back his hood, revealing a gnomish face framed by a typical white beard. Roland was not sure what the two of them wanted, but without asking, they sat beside him and began to make demands.


