Return of the Runebound Professor - Chapter 750 (Patreon)

Brayden’s soul felt like it was on fire.

Maybe it was. His mind was still reeling from the repairs to his runes. Everything had happened so… fast. In seconds, Noah had carved apart the culmination of years of time and effort.

Just like that. With a single touch, it was all gone.

And in minutes, it was back.

He’d plucked runes from within his Grimoire and handed them to Brayden like nothing. Brayden had combined them in ways that eclipsed his previous work entirely — and Noah had cut those, too, into pieces.

Brayden hadn’t understood at the time. And now, the only thing he understood was just how little they’d known. The lone Rank 5 Rune, Spatial Rift, that now rested within his soul was like nothing he’d ever had before.

It made everything he’d worked for look like a joke.

And even that was nothing in the face of the sheer pressure bearing down on him — on everyone — from Father. The combined power from every single one of their newly improved domains was barely enough to let them stand, much less fight back.

But barely was still enough.

Beautiful notes spun through the air as Noah’s bow danced across the strings of his violin. Power thrummed around him as a formation built, crackling arcs of chaotic magic buzzing around Noah in a building storm.

It was little more than a shower of sparks in the face of the tsunami that was Father’s magic. But it was the only hope they had.

They needed Noah. And he needed them. The pressure from their domains was all that kept Father from crushing all of them with little more than a thought. They had to stand their ground.

And that meant Janice had to be dealt with. If she killed anyone — if she took out their little bubble of protection — then they were all done for.

Brayden could have sworn he felt every individual droplet of blood running through his veins and pumping in his ears. And yet, strangely, the world seemed oddly silent. Noah’s music, the approaching screaming of the Night’s Shadow… it was all distant.

This was his fight.

He drew the large sword from his back. The hefty weapon felt comfortable in his grasp. It was huge an unwieldy, just like its predecessor before it. He’d gone through more of them than he could count.

Perhaps the sword wasn’t the best weapon, but it was his.

“Janice,” Brayden said. The word felt like lead in his mouth. He walked forward, coming to a stop several feet in front of the others. He couldn’t move too far away from the protection of their domains and Noah’s unfurling magic. If he did, Father’s power would crush him on the spot.

“Step aside, Brayden,” Janice said. Her words were almost soft. “It isn’t—”

“It isn’t what?” Brayden asked. This wasn’t the reality he’d envisioned for himself. But it was the one he’d gotten, and now there was nowhere to walk but forward. “Too late to join you? We both know that isn’t true. It doesn’t seem we were ever on the same side at all. Do you think I’m just going to let you kill everyone here because some crazy old bastard told you to?”

“This is bigger than any individual. Bigger than any group,” Janice said. “It’s about the universe, Brayden. About Order. About everyone’s—”

“I don’t give a fuck,” Brayden said. “There’s only one thing that matters in this world. It isn’t our runes or whatever the hell your Order bullshit is. It’s the people behind me. Are you really telling me the most important person in your life is Father? I thought we were close, Janice. I cared about you.”

“I have a duty,” Janice said. “That does not overwrite my feelings. They still remain. But the duty takes priority.”

“It always did, didn’t it?” Brayden asked, the corners of his lips twitching in amusement. He lowered into a fighting stance, letting power from Spatial Rift pour through his body.

Behind them, Noah’s song grew louder. Every single note he played seemed to push Father’s magic a step back, but the old man wasn’t just sitting around and doing nothing.

He brought the Long Night down in a sharp slash. A wave of cubical, jerky lines cut out toward Noah. The very air trembled in preparation for arrival as the world seemed to adjust itself. Grass went perfectly rigid, transformed into neat rows as all originality and freedom was torn away from it.

A slash of crackling red magic erupted from Noah’s violin to the tune of a discordant note. It connected with Father’s magic with a buzzing hiss. The two walls of magic tore into each other, hissing and popping furiously.

And then Father’s magic crumbled away.

“You… stopped it?” Father asked, his head tilting to the side. “Chaos magic. You can use Chaos magic.”

“The natural weakness of made up orderly bullshit is even more bullshit. Who would have thought?” Noah asked, his voice taut with strain. Stopping Father’s attack hadn’t been anywhere near as easy as he wanted it to seem.

“You won’t win this,” Janice said. “Brayden. Please. You never won our sparring matches before. That isn’t going to change. I could convince Father—”

“No,” Brayden said. He turned his full attention back to Janice. Brayden had his own fight to worry about. “You couldn’t.”

She sent him a sad look.

Then she vanished.

Brayden didn’t even bother spinning in search of where she would be.

He already knew.

Spatial magic crackled around him as he warped to the side. Janice’s leg sliced through the air where his neck had been an instant before, the hidden blade buried in the heel of her boot whistling through the air and failing to find its mark.

Her eyes widened as she found Brayden standing safely to the side, still within the protection of everyone else’s domains, coils of hissing purple energy still twisting off his body.

That was meant to be a killing blow.

Something in Brayden’s stomach twisted. In spite of everything, he’d still hoped that there could have been another way.

I suppose I never really knew her at all, did I?

“Faster than you remembered?” Brayden asked.

Janice’s lips thinned. She lowered her stance.

The time for talking was over.

***

Noah had never played this fast before. He’d never dared. The formation screaming into existence all around him, stuffed so full of every scrap of Chaos magic he could gather, was the reason why.

He was well past the point where a mistake could send everything crashing down. Noah was pretty sure he’d made half a dozen of them already. Slapping magic this chaotic together without a concrete plan was already dangerous enough. Doing it at this speed was akin to suicide.

He sank deeper still into his pattern, letting his bow flit across the strings of his violin at a speed that should have begged for death. He wasn’t in an Awakened state yet. He could feel it, just at the edges of his mind, but almost wasn’t enough.

I need more.

Noah played faster still. His hand was little more than a blur.   

Father flicked the Long Night lazily through the air.

Another arc of Order magic sliced out. Every instinct in Noah’s mind screamed at him to dodge, but he ignored them all.

The magic drove into the magic coiling around him — and collapsed, torn to pieces as it broke against his domain and his pattern dismantled it.

But even that wasn’t enough to stop the remnants of the magic from reaching Noah. His heart stuttered as his very being nearly found itself pulled apart and reordered. The edges of his soul shuddered and warped — but it held strong.

The Formation around Noah warped as well. But, in spite of that, the smallest of smiles flicked across his lips. There was only one reason he could even dare playing like this, and it was almost funny enough to distract him from his task.

Father’s very own Order magic was fixing the discord within the Formation. All the mistakes he made at the speed he was playing at would have been enough to shatter it long ago if the magic driving into him hadn’t been adjusting everything back into a proper pattern.

“Isn’t that interesting?” Father asked. There wasn’t a single ounce of concern in his voice. He seemed more like he was inspecting what his new toy was capable of doing rather than fighting for his life. “Your magic is an antithesis to Order. That must be why the staff was contained with Chaos bindings. But how long can you stand against me?”

 “As long as I need to,” Noah snarled. The pressure from Father’s domain receded with every passing second as his Formation grew stronger. He could feel the prickles of his Awakened state, but it was still just out of grasp.

And just as long as it takes backup to arrive. I’m not the only one you’ve got to worry about, you twisted old bastard.

Father paused. He sent another wave of Order magic toward Noah.

It slammed into his Formation once more. Noah gritted his teeth as it speared into him, tearing at the edges of his soul once again. Pain seared into his very being. But pain wasn’t anything new to him.

Noah wove more layers into his Formation. The only thing keeping Father from killing them all on the spot was a mixture of the old man’s curiosity and respect of Chaos magic. After all, Father was paranoid.

He didn’t take risks. When there was something he didn’t fully understand, he picked it apart from a safe range. Even if Father could have gone all out, it might have put him at an instant of risk.

And for someone like Father… that was unacceptable. It was far easier to slowly grind his opponent to dust and preserve his own safety. After all, time was on his side.

That’s our only chance. Father doesn’t know how my revivals work. He doesn’t understand my magic yet. And that means he’ll be cautious. The old bastard acts strong, but he’s actually terrified of anything that poses even the slightest risk to him.  

Father tilted his head to the other side. Then the corner of his lips twitched.

Then he drove the Long Night down into the ground at his feet.

A wave of gray-white magic exploded out from him. It tore past Noah in the blink of an eye, passing around the Formation he wove as if nothing there at all. A huge dome of magic surrounded all of them in an instant, leaving only a white lattice where the sky had been.

An instant later, an enormous crash rang out. A ripple of darkness passed through the dome above them like a wave in a still lake. Then it faded away. The dome held strong.

Dread formed into a pit in the base of Noah’s stomach.

You can’t be serious.

“That would have been annoying,” Father said, his gaze landing on Noah. “We almost had interference from that insufferable hound of an Apostle. This does mean we’ll have to accelerate things. I can’t investigate for as much as I would like. But I must still thank you. You’ve made things memorable.”

Damn it! I have to buy time. I know Garina can break this shit open if she has a moment.

“You still think you can—”

The world went silent.

Something cold prickled against Noah’s chest.

He blinked. His grip on the bow of his violin faltered as he felt something trickle down his stomach.

Noah looked down.

There was a perfectly circular hole the size of a dinner plate in his chest.

He hadn’t even felt the magic. It hadn’t touched his domain or passed through his pattern. It had just… appeared.

“How?” Noah whispered. Dizziness spun through the back of his mind and rose up in preparation to swallow it entirely. “That… isn’t possible.”

“You, of all people, should know that there are always rules you don’t understand,” Father said, the faintest of smiles lingering on his lips. “Goodbye, Vermil.”

No. I can’t die. My formation — my pattern, it’s not done. I can’t defeat him without my magic. Even if I reach the Awakened state after coming back, I need my magic to hold Father back.

Noah’s desperation did nothing to stop the call of his gourd from intensifying. It wound around his neck, a black rope dragging his soul from his body.

He swayed.

“No!” Moxie yelled.

Just like that? He’s that much stronger than me?

Noah’s fingers desperately fought to keep purchase on his bow and violin. His control of his body was already starting to go. A weak, trembling note rose up from the instrument as he tried to keep the song going.

Hands grabbed his shoulders. Some dimming, distant part of his brain noted that they were Lee’s. He heard them yelling something, but the words were lost to his ears.

They were pointless.

He was dying.

Father’s gaze moved past Vermil.

It went right past Noah to land on everyone that stood behind him. Everyone that still needed him. He swayed.

Father raised the Long Night.

No. No, this can’t be happening. I’m not done. I’m not fucking done!

He fought desperately to pull his arms back up, to continue playing, but his body denied him once more. Too much blood was missing. His heart was gone. His limbs hung limp. His eyes fluttered. His consciousness sputtered.

Noah died.

He pitched forward, fingers finally falling slack around his violin.

The ground rushed forward to meet his embrace.

But he never made it.

An inch before Noah could it the ground, he slammed to a halt.

Father paused. His gaze shot back to Noah.

To the taut black threads that had appeared connected to his back, holding him aloft like a suspended puppet.

“Ever the cockroach, aren’t you, Vermil?” Father asked. He brought the Long Night down.

A wave of Order rolled out from the staff, rising to crash over Noah.

And then it shattered to pieces, buzzing tendrils of angry red energy eating it alive the instant it entered Noah’s domain.

“You seem to have a misconception.” The black threads pulled Noah back upright. His snapped open, and they were as black as a starless night sky. “My name is not Vermil. I am Spider.”