Hours went by inside the Rune Division hall. Adrian’s quill never slowed, his hands moving in rhythm with the frantic scribes around him. Parchment stacked high, glowing with freshly etched runes.

Outside, however, the fortress walls thundered beneath a fresh tide of monsters.

A thousand D-rank Defenders locked shields and spears in tight formations, the line trembling as C-rank sea beasts hurled themselves against barrier runes. Claws scraped against stone, tentacles lashed like whips.

Hundreds of C-rank Defenders bolstered the line, weaving torrents of flame and lightning to thin the endless wave. For now, the Bastion of Tides still held.

But then the sea darkened. B-rank monsters rose from the depths. serpents with armored scales, tide-fiends whose roar drove lesser beasts into frenzy. Dozens of B-rank Defenders, including Lysara, surged forward to meet them.

Though stronger than any single beast, Defenders fought shackled by responsibility. They could not recklessly trade lives, they had to shield comrades, guard the wall, and buy time.

The B-rank sea beasts, in contrast, fought in brutal packs, directing their lesser kin with savage intelligence.

Slowly, the balance began to tilt.

When the number of B-ranks swelled beyond the defenders’ count, even the A-rank commanders were forced to intervene.

Renard’s spatial attacks split the sea in blinding arcs, Scarlett’s tides surged with devastating force. But for every monster slain, more surged forth.

This battle differed from Aranthor. Back then, Elara had unleashed a single annihilating spell, burning away most of the horde in one impossible stroke. But those were mostly E and F-rank monsters, and such miracles demanded oceans of mana.

The A-rank Defenders here could not afford that luxury. They had to fight smart, sustain themselves, kill dozens, and still be standing when the next wave came.

Inside the fortress, the Rune Division did not rest. Quakes rattled the walls as Mira rushed into the hall, her face pale.

“A section of the barrier is down, beasts breached the wall! The inscribers in that section are dead!”

The room lurched into motion. Exhausted as they were, inscribers grabbed ink and tools, hurrying to reinforce the failing defense. Adrian sprinted with them, following Mira and Liora into the chaos.

Stone dust rained from the ceiling as they navigated crumbling corridors.

Screams echoed from somewhere ahead, punctuated by the clash of steel and bestial roars.

They emerged onto the broken battlements where Defenders struggled desperately to hold a gap.

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Monsters clawed their way inside, writhing tentacled horrors and scaled beasts with razor teeth. Only to be cut down as soldiers shielded inscribers carving fresh runes.

“Hold the line!” Commander Renard’s voice boomed over the chaos.

Adrian leapt forward without hesitation. His white-blue flames erupted around his fists as he struck down a tide-fiend attempting to flank the formation. The creature dissolved into ash before it could scream.

He dropped to one knee beside the shattered wall, pulling out his tools. His hand moved like lightning, strokes etched at a speed that drew gasps from nearby Defenders. The barrier rune blazed to life in the stone, its golden light forcing back the tide.

“Impossible,” breathed a veteran inscriber. “That’s master-level work in seconds.”

Mira stared, her ink-stained hands trembling. She had spent years learning to inscribe basic barriers, yet Adrian carved advanced-level barrier runes as if they were simple letters.

But the tide did not stop.

Adrian lifted his gaze and saw the whole war unfold before him. A-ranks held multiple leviathans at bay, their massive forms writhing against torrents of elemental fury. B-ranks struggled two against one, their formations cracking under relentless pressure.

The C and D-ranks strained in tight formations, shields locked as claws raked against barrier spells. Blood pooled between the stones where the line had already broken twice.

The healers faltered, overwhelmed by the endless stream of wounded. Soldiers rotated shifts with burning lungs, yet still they died by the hundreds. The scrolls inscribed inside the fortress bought precious seconds, but seconds were paid in blood.

Even when the wall held, Defenders bled out faster than reinforcements could arrive.

Helplessness burned inside him. Going back to a desk, inscribing one more rune, suddenly felt meaningless. To calmly carve symbols while people died felt like cowardice.

His decision came in a heartbeat.

Adrian vaulted over the broken rampart, landing hard among the chaos. Mira’s startled cry echoed behind him as he sprinted toward a collapsing formation.

“What are you doing?” Liora shouted, her B-rank authority crackling through the air.

Adrian ignored her. His white-blue flames erupted around his fists as he struck down a tide-fiend attempting to flank three wounded Defenders. The creature dissolved into ash before its claws could reach them.

“Fall back!” Adrian barked at the stunned soldiers. “Get to the healers!”

Gravity snares erupted from his palms, locking down an entire cluster of D-rank sea beasts. A freeze field spread beneath his feet, binding writhing tentacles in place. Fire consumed the gaps, turning the breach into a killing field.

The nearest Defenders stared in shock as Adrian carved through monsters that had been overwhelming their formation moments before.

“That’s not scroll magic,” one whispered.

“Who is that kid?”

Adrian threw himself deeper into the storm. Every spell felt sharper, every strike heavier than during his Academy days. When pressure mounted against a retreating squad, he unleashed Starbreaker at partial power.

The sphere of collapsing light and shadow bent space itself, erasing a cluster of sea beasts in one shattering instant. The shockwave left the wall trembling, soldiers staring in stunned silence.

It bought precious time.

“That wasn’t a scroll,” a veteran Defender breathed, lowering his bloodied spear.

“Not just a scribe,” another added, eyes wide with recognition.

Whispers spread through the chaos like wildfire. Adrian ignored them, already moving to save the next group. His mana reserves burned bright, his recent growth showing its effect.

For the first time, Adrian felt eyes turning toward him not as a Rune Master, but as something far more dangerous.

On the wall above, Mira clutched the stone railing, her knuckles white. Liora stood beside her, golden robes soaked with sea spray, lips pressed tight as she watched Adrian carve through the horde.

“He’s not supposed to be down there,” Mira whispered.

“No,” Liora agreed, her voice strained. “But look around. Does it matter what he’s supposed to do?”

Neither had expected him to throw himself into the waves. But both understood the truth burning in his actions.

Adrian wasn’t here only to write runes. He was here to fight.

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep