Outside, in front of the matrix that covered the sky with its dense flashes and resounding sounds like a breathing monster, Smith stood with steady steps and a rigid face, though his depths were boiling. The guards lined up tensely behind him, swords drawn, but they knew well that their weapons were worthless against this Runic wall. Every minute that passed while they were helpless felt like a dagger slowly thrust into his chest, for Leon and Elise were still locked inside—and their lives were probably being taken away at this very moment.
Smith raised his voice, staring at the man bent over the lines of the matrix:
— "Didn't you say you would undo this spell in ten minutes?! More than an hour has passed, and the matrix is still intact! Were you joking with us?"
The Rune Master slowly raised his head. Sweat dripped from his forehead, his eyes exhausted from concentration:
— "No, sir… I didn't deceive you. This matrix should have collapsed in minutes; it's only of the fourth order. But what I'm seeing before me… is something I've never encountered in my entire life."
Smith snapped sharply:
— "Enough talk! Explain."
The man took a deep breath, stretching his hand toward the glowing lines:
— "An ordinary matrix is built on one core only. The core is its heart—it regulates resources, energy, and symbols. But this matrix… has nine complete cores."
The atmosphere froze. Whispers of amazement mixed with awe rose among the guards. Smith remained firm, though for a moment his heart clenched:
— "Nine cores… so you're saying it was created by an Elder Rune Master?"
The man shook his head:
— "Not exactly. That's only half true."
Smith narrowed his eyes:
— "Explain, before I lose my patience."
The Rune Master gave a bitter smile, his voice steady though slightly trembling:
— "To reach the level of Elder, one must be able to design a multi-core matrix. But what I see here is not merely the work of an Elder… it goes beyond that."
Smith replied coldly:
— "I know these rules well. So what do you mean by 'half true'?"
The Rune Master's tone gained confidence, though edged with worry:
— "You remember the order of talent—or as scholars call it, the Rank of Specialization?"
Smith cut him off impatiently:
— "Of course I know! Everyone in this world knows it. Don't test me any further."
But the man ignored his outburst and continued:
— "Specialization is the heart of the journey. A person starts with the basics, then ascends through the ranks: ordinary, average, advanced, until reaching Master. After that, it's nearly impossible to change specialties, except through secret methods monopolized by certain families. But Master is not the end—it is the beginning of the true path. After that comes Great Master, then Grand Master. At those levels most people stop, because progress becomes a hundred times harder than before. Then comes Elder, Great Elder, Grand Elder… and finally, the rank of King. Only then does one embody their specialty, able to absorb everything within it—even what was previously undiscovered."
Silence reigned. The guards swallowed his words like bitter medicine. Smith frowned deeply, an inner voice screaming: This fool is telling me things I've known since childhood… so what's the real problem?
He said sarcastically:
— "Wonderful, a whole lecture about ranks. Do you think I don't know that? Stop wasting my time and tell me the real problem… before I cut out your tongue."
But the Rune Master went on calmly, unfazed by the threat:
— "You know each specialty advances differently, correct?"
Smith turned away, hiding his unease. This man… arrogant like every Rune noble. But if what he says is true, then we are facing a disaster beyond measure.
The Rune Master's eyes filled with dread as he continued:
— "Everyone knows the most difficult specialty to advance is the Rune. So much so that in our era, only one Great Elder exists in the entire world. Throughout history… the Rune King has never appeared."
Some guards trembled at his words. For a moment, Smith wished he were the one locked inside the matrix instead of his master—so he wouldn't have to listen to this madness.
But the next words struck like thunder:
— "And now, before my eyes, I can confirm—the one who created this matrix is not a Great Elder… but a true Rune King."
The place froze. Faces paled. Some guards gaped, others looked skyward as if the heavens themselves might shatter. Smith felt ice run through his veins.
"The Rune King…?" he whispered in shock. Then shouted:
— "Are you certain of this?!"
The man replied firmly:
— "I am ninety-five percent certain."
Sweat poured down Smith's face. His thoughts spiraled: The Rune King… if this is true, why would he create only a fourth-order matrix? Why not a zero-degree, or near-zero? And who is this being whose domain we've entered?
But no matter how he searched, only emptiness answered.
Nearby, Adam watched silently, his face unreadable. Inside, quick thoughts rippled: Incredible… this man figured out so quickly that this was the work of the Rune King. For me, it's simple—once I reach the core, I'll be able to use this matrix as the basis for a semi-proprietary one.
Smith barked again:
— "How do you know it was made by the Rune King? What proof?"
The Rune Master gave a small, knowing smile:
— "To reach the rank of King, a Rune Elder must meet three conditions. First: ascend to the peak of Grand Elder. Second: raise their mana essence to SSS rank—a peak touched only by a handful across continents. Third: merge nine cores into one consciousness."
One guard raised his brows:
— "One consciousness?"
The Rune Master nodded:
— "Yes. Each core becomes a living organism, with independent awareness, able to interact with the others. Then, through unimaginably complex manipulation, these cores are compelled to choose a single command center, uniting into a flawless integrated structure. This… is what defines the work of a King."
Another guard asked cautiously:
— "So why has no Rune specialist in history ever achieved it?"
The Rune Master's smile turned bitter:
— "Because it's like alchemists trying to create life from nothing. Even if you plant consciousness into a core, how can you stop it from self-destructing? And how do you force it to harmonize with another—when each has a different nature? It is sheer madness."
Silence again. The air grew heavy, as if the matrix itself mocked them.
Smith said tensely:
— "Then do something! Break this matrix, or pull us inside—we must save Leon and Elise at all costs!"
But the Rune Master shook his head:
— "I have reached the limits of my ability. The depth of this matrix exceeds me. But don't worry—I've already contacted the Guild of Specialists. The Head of the Rune Department of the Middle Continent is coming himself."
The guards shivered at the name. The Head of the Rune Department was not merely a man, but a living legend in the field.
And as silence hung before the matrix, eyes fixed on what might be the greatest discovery of their age… in the heart of the Middle Continent, another story was beginning—one that would mark the dawn of a new era.
Far away, in the great city of Union, life bustled. Towering metal buildings, flying streets, and technologies out of science fiction revealed just how far it stood above other continents.
Inside a vast hall beneath the Guild's emblem, dozens of Rune Masters argued, studied, and debated. At the center sat an old man: his wrinkled face like that of a ninety-year-old, yet his shining white hair, radiant eyes, and neat clothes made him look barely twenty. A paradox of youth and age—an image of absolute power.
At that moment, a young girl rushed in, breathless. She flung open the doors and bowed quickly:
— "Forgive my intrusion… but this news cannot wait!"
The hall fell silent. She spoke, trembling:
— "In the house of the Evanhart family… a fourth-order matrix has appeared!"
One expert smirked lightly:
— "We know this. Why such panic over a fourth-order matrix?"
But she cut him off:
— "That's not all… there is strong suspicion it was created by a true Rune King!"
Instantly, the hall turned from chaos to silence. Even the machines seemed to stop.
All eyes turned toward the old man at the center. He didn't move at f
irst. Then, slowly, a wide smile spread across his face—the smile of one who knows that the world is about to change.