Rune Seeker

(Lost) That All You Got? has activated.

Remaining health: 1%

Cooldown remaining: 20 hours

Hiral blinked. Then blinked again when he realized he had eyes to blink.

The cries of the crowd reached his ears a heartbeat later, and he felt the stone floor of the arena beneath his back.

“… and we’ll talk about you standing on the sidelines this whole…” Vule cut off at the same time every other voice in the Amphitheatre silenced as Hiral sat up. The big Shaper had been talking to Hizix, but he turned slowly to look in Hiral’s direction.

“Hiral!? Hiral, you okay?” Seena’s panicked voice said over the Party Interface. A look at his own window showed his health bar blinking in practical nonexistence.

1%. That’s… close.

“He’s fine,” Left said. “Just being reckless.”

“Focus on here, please,” Seeyela said, strain in her voice.

“Hiral?” Seena asked again.

“I’m fine,” Hiral said, standing up and forcefully stopping his High-Speed Regeneration+ from healing him.

“We’re going to talk about whatever you just did later,” Seena promised.

“Yes, we most definitely will,” Left and Right both answered for Hiral.

“Now, Vule, I believe it’s my turn,” Hiral said to the wide-eyed Shaper as he stood.

“You… Your… head. It…” Vule stammered, looking from his bloodstained fist to Hiral.

“Is right where it’s supposed to be,” Hiral said. “You must be losing your touch.”

“How…?”

Hiral shook his head and walked right up to stand a few feet from Vule. The man’s body tensed like he wanted to reach out and touch—or crush—Hiral to make sure he wasn’t a ghost. But the bindings of the Oath Stone held, preventing him from doing anything but standing still.

“Remember, no running,” Hiral said as he reached over his shoulder to wrap his fingers around the hilt of the Emperor’s Greatsword.

Then, as the man watched, Hiral drew the weapon. Vule’s eyes snapped to the broken edge of the wide crystal blade while Hiral extended his arm to hold the sword straight up above his head.

“A broken…?” Vule started to ask… until Hiral flooded the weapon with solar energy.

Nearly blinding power exploded outward as the sword erupted to life like a fallen star in his hands. All around the amphitheatre, the sand and small rocks seemed to dance on the arena floor, while the wind above swirled and howled. The constant, distant thunder quieted for a breath, then boomed across the sky like echoing drums.

“What… What is that?” Vule asked, eyes unblinking as he stared at the sword.

“You don’t recognize it?” Hiral asked, reaching up with his other hand to grab the hilt. “Wasn’t it you who said the next time I was in here, I’d have it?”

“The next time…?” Vule’s jaw dropped, recognition of the legendary weapon finally finding its way into his mind. “The… Emperor’s Greatsword?”

“And not a tattoo of it,” Hiral said, threading solar energy into the runes within the blade. Tethers of Gravity connected the sword to Vule, while Expansion and Energy made the edges of the blade ripple like a contained beast.

Still, this was a B-Rank Shaper in front of him, and even with the damage bonuses from One-Man Army+, the health differential boost from High-Speed Regeneration+, and the normal power of the sword, it might not be enough. He wouldn’t get a second swing.

Taking a deep breath, the sword flaring above him, Hiral threaded energy into his Rune of Unsealing.

A sound like shattering glass filled the Amphitheatre of the Sun. Cracks spread across the air itself as if it were a broken mirror. A pressure like two worlds colliding pressed the spectators to the ground, while everything else just stopped.

Only Left, Right, Vule, and Hiral remained on their feet.

Standing on the edges of the spectators’ booths, Meridian Lines and tattoos flaring with power against the black Second-Skins of Ur’Thul, neither of the doubles moved.

Above him, eight spectral hands joined his normal two on the sword’s hilt, and the chains around the blade loosened slightly. Another titanic CRAAAAACK seemed to shake the entire island, and Hiral opened his mouth.

Steam like smoking solar energy escaped his lips.

“I told you not to run,” Hiral said. “But, more accurately, I should’ve told you, you can’t run.”

He poured all of his remaining solar energy into the runes of the S-Rank weapon, then swung.

The first inch felt like trying to swing a building, his shoulders straining and popping with the effort. The second inch was a mountain, his whole body groaning and creaking with effort. The third inch was the moon threatening to crush him beneath its weight. The fourth…

WHAAAAAM! The sword came down on Vule with an island-shaking impact that made the ground drop out from under Hiral’s feet. Gravity, Energy, Expansion, and all of Hiral’s buffs sent up a shockwave to both sides as the force of his swing carved a cone straight ahead of him. The gale-like expansion of wind slammed into the walls of the arena with an audible SNAP, then echoed off the stone a dozen times like staccato drums.

As for Vule… Hiral looked at the glowing sword in his shaky arms. The chains had vanished, as he’d expended all his solar energy in the swing—the sword was once again sealed—and the Shaper was nowhere to be seen. A deep crevice in the nearly indestructible floor stretched from the tip of Hiral’s sword all the way to the edge of the Amphitheatre, then continued where the wall had once been. A quick glance showed it had to be at least thirty feet deep, and forty feet wide at its distant end.

Immediately around Hiral, multiple cracks spread across the floor from where the increased gravity had fallen like a hammer. There was no sign of Vule—nothing—but a glance at his notifications showed him confirmation he’d defeated the Shaper. He’d even gotten a bonus achievement for the fight.

Congratulations. Achievement unlocked – Know Your Limits… and Surpass Them

You have soloed not one, but two (you really are reckless) Mid-Boss-level opponents of at least 1 full Rank above you.

Please access a Dungeon Interface to unlock class-specific reward.

Hrm, another step in One-Man Army+ maybe? That wouldn’t be bad.

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Hiral closed the notification window and looked at his Party Interface. He had just under 10% solar energy—what he’d gained from landing the killing blow on Vule and the benefits of One-Man Army+. Same in health, too, thanks to the same ability.

His High-Speed Regeneration+ was waiting for him to start it up again, so he finally let solar energy flow into it to fill his health bar.And that wasn’t even considering how heavy his body felt at the moment. It’d take him at least a few minutes before he was ready to go anywhere. Luckily, with Velina and Vule out of the picture, he didn’t have to…

“Hiral, look out!” Nat cried, and Hiral’s head snapped first in her direction, then the other when movement caught the corner of his eyes.

Gunimat’s shape sprinted out of the still-settling dust from the shockwave, a sword whistling through the air and arcing for Hiral’s neck. He tried to fall back—to quick-step out of the way—but his legs were leaden beneath him, and all he managed to do was stumble. His own sword, still in his hands, wouldn’t lift, and all he could do was watch the blade streaking for him.

No.

WHOMP! A second shape erupted from the hanging cloud of dust to crunch into Gunimat’s side. The two bodies hit the ground and rolled, Gunimat’s sword flying from his fingers to disperse into foggy solar energy.

Right?

No, the shape wasn’t wearing black, and they were far too big.

Hizix?

Hiral realized the second shape’s identity at the same time the man flipped Gunimat onto his back, then fell on him in a barrage of punches. Wham. Wham. Wham. Wham. Wham. The C-Rank Shaper rained down arena-shaking blows on the prone man beneath him.

Gunimat tried to get his arms up to block the blows, but Hizix just went around the defense. Every hammering punch sent shockwaves of dust out from ground-zero as Hizix pounded. Ribs. Head. Shoulders. Arms. Face. Nose. It didn’t matter what Hizix hit; every single punch sounded with a resounding crack. Red bands of energy surrounded his arms—lesser version of the Citrine Bands Vule had used, but one that lasted longer. The beating went on for long seconds until Gunimat’s arms slackened, then toppled to the ground. Even then, Hizix didn’t stop immediately. Punch after punch after punch, the solid cracking turned into a wet thwacking, like hitting a watermelon with a hammer.

Four more blows of that, and then, finally, Hizix’s blood-covered fist paused where it cocked behind his head. Splatters of crimson streaked his face, while his chest heaved in great breaths.

In front of Hiral, Left and Right smoothly put themselves between him and the raging Shaper, but it looked like they needn’t have bothered. Hizix’s head turned almost woodenly to look at the three men in matching black coats, and he sat back and held his hands out at his sides.

“I won’t fight you,” Hizix said. “If you need to… need to… you know, I won’t try and stop you. Just, make it quick, yeah?”

Hiral dropped down to sit on the arena floor right where he was, the Emperor’s Greatsword lying beside him. A second of concentration, and he got Cycling+ going. With this solar energy gathering—and in turn, High-Speed Regeneration+ working—he turned his attention on Hizix. “No, I told you I wouldn’t hurt you if you didn’t interfere.” Then he looked at Gunimat’s broken body. “I don’t consider that interfering, just to be clear. Thanks for what you did there.”

Hizix looked down at the body under him. “I hated what they did. What I did when I was with them. But I was… too much of a coward to stop. To stop them. When I saw you again, after we’d left you on the surface, I knew this was my chance. If I didn’t do something now, I never would.”

“You could’ve jumped in sooner,” Right pointed out.

Hizix’s chin dropped to his chest, and his shoulders slumped. “Like I said. Coward.”

“You’re not, and it’s fine,” Hiral said, flicking a small rock at the back of Right’s head. “They were B-Rank. You were smart not to get involved.”

“Obviously smarter than somebody,” Left whispered loud enough for Hiral to clearly hear.

“Shush, you,” Hiral said. “Look, Hizix, I appreciate what you did. Really. But I’m going to ask you for one more favor. Something I need you to do.”

Hizix looked up at Hiral again. “What?”

“The hostages…” he started.

“I release them from their oaths,” Hizix interrupted, and the Oath Stones placed around the arena glowed briefly before fading.

Hiral felt hundreds of threads snap at the same time the Stones’ glow vanished. That was it. The prisoners were free. Which meant…

Dynamic Quest Complete

Congratulations. Achievement unlocked – Are You Not Entertained?

You have attained victory in the Amphitheatre of the Sun and rescued the hostages.

Time until zone-wide announcement: 15 minutes.

Please access a Dungeon Interface to unlock class-specific reward.

“Hope you saw that,” Hiral said into the party chat. “You’ve got fifteen minutes.”

“We saw,” Seena said. “Good job.”

“Less talking and more burning this huge man trying to touch me in bad places!” Seeyela said.

“You okay there?” Hiral asked.

“Fine, but I really should do something about… Whoa!” Seena shouted. “Hands off, there, big guy! She’s married!”

“Don’t… think… he… cares!” Seeyela added.

“Talk to you later,” Seena said to Hiral, and then he felt the party chat connection fade.

I’m sure they’re fine, he thought with a shake of his head.

He looked at Hizix again. “Thank you for releasing them from their oath, but that actually wasn’t what I was going to ask for. The previous hostages will be leaving. I want you to help keep them safe.”

“Can you trust him?” Right asked, not even trying to keep his voice low.

“You can,” Hizix said. “I owe them that, at least.”

“I don’t know,” Left said. “He could recapture them as soon as we leave. Or tell his friends where they’ve gone.”

“I won’t,” Hizix said. “I’ll swear on the Oath Stones.”

“Those oaths can be broken,” Right pointed out.

“And then even the hostages could kill me. I’d be without my tattoos or Meridian Lines. Defenseless.”

“Hiral!” Nat called, and he looked to the side to see his two sisters running out of a side entrance.

He gave them a small wave, putting his conversation with the Shaper on hold, then waited patiently as they ran over to join him.

The rest of the hostages—his mother included—followed at a slower pace. Many of them limped or held themselves like they were injured, and almost all of them had their clothes torn or singed. Seeing the various injuries, Hiral focused more closely on his mom. She cradled her left arm in her right hand, though she seemed to be walking fine, and the bottom half of her top had been burnt off.

Hiral scowled as he spotted some kind of scar on her stomach, but then his eyes widened. That scar wasn’t a new wound. That… was a glyph of fertility.

Why did she have…?

Hiral’s thoughts were completely interrupted as his two sisters collided with him and knocked him to the ground.

“Hiral! Hiral, are you alive? A ghost?” Nat asked while she painfully poked his face and head. “How is this still here? I saw it go poof.”

“And it’s going to go poof again if you keep poking me so hard!” Hiral said, gently pushing her hands away.

“I saw it too,” Milly said, adding her own poking fingers. “Oh, my… He hit you so hard you lost your hair!”

“What…? No! I shaved my head!”

“Not technically true,” Left said.

“He was like this when I found him earlier,” Nat said.

“When you found me?” Hiral asked, finally having enough and pushing his sisters away to sit up.

“You can’t really do anything without us,” Milly said, though there were tears leaking down her face.

“Practically useless,” Nat agreed, tears to match her sister’s running down.

“This sounds familiar,” Right said, looking at Left.

“Shush. All of you,” Hiral said, but he pulled his sisters in with a small pulse of Attractionto give them a hug. “I’m glad you’re okay.”

“You’re glad we’re okay?” Nat sniffled against him. “You lost your head!”

“Got better,” Hiral pointed out.

“How?” Milly asked.

“An ability I have,” he explained. “Prevents me from getting killed in one hit.”

“You can’t die?” Milly asked.

“Oh, no. I’m sure I can totally die. I just didn’t that time.”

“How does that even work?” Nat asked, pushing away to look at Hiral—and clearly inspecting him again to make sure he still had his head.

“Has something to do with Time runes…” he started, but then he shook his head. “It’s complicated. Look. I’m fine. Isn’t that enough?”

“It is,” a new voice added. His mother’s voice.