Chapter 543 – Pick Your Runes.

In a dimly lit training chamber, a lone man stood. Around him stretched a shadowed space, encircled by multiple doors, each leading to a different path that would shape his destiny. Above each door hung a unique symbol – often depicting a weapon, a piece of armor, or sometimes a shield. The doors themselves varied as well some were made of wood, others of hardened steel, and a few gleamed with polished gold.

‘The right path is usually obvious, but this time…’

Robert had circled the training chamber, inspecting the doors that led to new classes. Ascension spaces were said to take the shape of places deeply ingrained in a person’s soul, and for him, it was this very underground training hall where he had spent years of his youth. The first time he was here, only a single door had stood before him.

His initial ascension ritual had offered no trials – he had simply been granted the Warrior class. It was a basic path, common and unremarkable, yet it had shaped the course of his life. Not long after, he had chosen to advance as a Knight, stepping through the door that led to the path of a Squire. That time, he had faced a grueling trial – battling a series of monsters while clad in progressively heavier armor. Even so, he had prevailed on his first attempt.

Soon after, he continued his training at the Knight Academy. He took his time, honing his skills to their peak, but his focus remained on mastering the blade. To ascend as a Sword Knight, he was given a new trial – this time, he had to defeat multiple armored knights in a jousting tournament.

These trials felt real, almost indistinguishable from reality, and even featured actual people – some bearing striking resemblances to those he had encountered in his life. For some reason, his final opponent in the tournament had looked eerily similar to one of the young men who had tormented him during his time at the academy. Even now, he could still vividly recall the satisfaction of beating him bloody.

At that point, he had reached a new milestone, becoming a Tier 2 class holder – an achievement he took great pride in. Around this time, he reunited with his brother, and after their encounter, he promised to catch up.

Determined, he set out toward the border, battling the kingdom’s enemies while also being utilized by the army to cull some of the monster tribes in the north. Eventually, he attained his next class – one far rarer than the others: the Noble Blade, a specialization focused on mastering the sword while donning heavy armor.

During his ascension trial, he was once again forced to face numerous enemies, all while wielding a sword of lower quality than his multiple opponents. The class focused more on reinforcing his strikes and honing in on his opponent’s weak points rather than relying on brute force. This was also the first time he had failed an ascension trial, requiring two attempts to overcome it. Something that he was ashamed of as his elder brothers didn’t seem to have failed even once until their tier 3 ascension attempts.

Upon reaching level one hundred, his progress slowed to a snail’s pace. Yet, his unwavering determination to prove himself to his father and make his mother proud kept him going. He threw himself into battle time and time again, fighting fiercely and carving through countless foes in the name of the Arden family. But no matter how hard he pushed himself, he felt like he was chasing a ghost. The more he struggled, the more it seemed as if he was falling behind.

All the strength he had gained paled in comparison to his father and many of the other powerful knights he encountered. The absence of any aura skills was undeniable, and deep down, he knew the truth – he would never be able to catch up to those who had been more blessed.

Robert exhaled deeply, his gaze sweeping over the array of doors before him. Some looked familiar – doors of steel and gold, with weapons and armor set beside them, signifying the paths of warriors and knights. Others were more refined, representing noble combatants, swordmasters, and defensive guardians. Each door was a path, a possible future, a decision that could shape his fate.

But then there were the strange doors – the ones that defied expectation. Unlike the others, these doors shimmered faintly with an ethereal glow. Ancient runic symbols were etched into their surfaces, pulsating with arcane power. Weapons and armor beside these doors were adorned with intricate engravings, imbued with magic beyond the scope of simple craftsmanship. They looked like something his younger brother would craft.

‘Could this be because of that title?’

Recently, he had obtained the “Rune Vassal” title along with the “Rune Mastery” skill. At the time, he hadn’t thought much of it, as it merely allowed him to use runic equipment more efficiently. However, now – faced with multiple rune-inscribed doors he had to conclude that this ability was the key. Just like before, some doors appeared superior to others. Some were made of ordinary steel, while others gleamed with polished mithril and enhanced weaponry.

Robert approached the shimmering runic doors, his fingers tracing the glowing symbols. Unlike the others, these doors pulsed with latent energy, as if aware of his presence. The weapons beside them were different from what he was used to – they weren’t simple swords or shields but intricate constructs infused with runic magic. One bore a longsword lined with glowing blue veins, its edge humming softly, while another displayed a suit of armor with strange magic crystals.

‘Now this is a problem… I didn’t expect to have this many choices…’

After circling the area a few times, he identified several potential paths forward. The first was a massive mithril door, behind which lay a sword and an armor set suited for something akin to a “Sword Champion” class. This was more or less what he had expected to receive – at least, until he considered the other options.

One of the other doors held a similar setup, but the armor and sword were covered in intricate runes, suggesting a class like “Rune Champion.” Given that he was now working under his brother – a powerful runesmith so this might have been the better choice.

He lacked aura skills, meaning the prestigious aura-based classes were beyond his reach. However, he had seen firsthand what his brother could achieve with runic armor. What if he could do the same? This was likely his only chance to catch up to those monsters – a new path forward.

“What about this one…? Why does it lack any weapons or armor?”

Robert had nearly decided on the door leading to the potential “Rune Champion” class when he suddenly hesitated before a different path. Like the others, this door was crafted from gleaming mithril, but the runic glow emanating from it was even stronger. However, unlike the others, it displayed no weapons or armor, leaving him uncertain about what lay beyond.

Normally, he would equip his gear before entering a trial, making this anomaly all the more confusing. It was the only door of its kind in the chamber, yet the sheer intensity of its magical energy far surpassed that of the “Rune Champion” door. That alone made him pause.

“Should I just try it? If it’s bad, I’ll just fail the trial and try again…”

Roland had advised him to take his time and not rush the decision. If he failed, he would be barred from retaking the test for a while but the first attempt was always the safest way to test the waters. His mind drifted briefly to Lucille. She would have probably torn the whole place apart trying to figure out the door’s secrets by now.

This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

“Maybe… maybe I should just do it.”

The soft crackle of runic energy pulsed louder as he grasped the door’s handle, twisting it. The door creaked open with an eerie but welcoming sound. With a deep breath, Robert stepped inside. A corridor stretched ahead of him – endless, it seemed. The air was thick with ancient power, and the stone walls were lined with more runes than he could count. The moment his foot crossed the threshold, the door behind him slammed shut, leaving him no choice but to move forward.

As he walked deeper into the corridor, he felt a strange pull. Not a danger, but a beckoning. A subtle force that tugged at him, leading him down the endless path. Time seemed to stretch and warp here. The stone underfoot remained the same, and yet the passage felt different, as though the very space around him was alive, breathing, watching him.

Eventually, he reached the end of the corridor, where a grand set of doors awaited – twin obsidian gates inscribed with runes he didn’t recognize. At that moment, he wished he had listened to Lucille when she had tried to teach him the basics of runes. While people like him couldn’t directly read them, their shapes and colors usually hinted at their purpose. After taking a deep breath and steeling himself for whatever lay ahead, he pushed the heavy doors open.

A bright light greeted him as he stepped forward, and in the next instant, he found himself in a new location. The ground beneath him felt like stone, reminiscent of a castle, as did the towering walls around him. A long, crimson carpet stretched out before him, leading toward another set of closed doors. The scene reminded him of the throne rooms depicted in paintings or the grand chambers reserved for powerful nobles – at least of ducal rank.

‘I don’t see any runic symbols anymore…’