While others were either rejoicing or sipping potions, I sat on a stone block, holding my boots in my hands. Or rather, what remained of them. They were good boots... once. Now, in my hands was a torn mess with soles that had completely fallen off. Not just fallen off but wrecked to tatters. Apparently, the Rune of Destruction doesn't only affect my body; it affects everything else, as its Essence suggests. So, for future reference, if I apply it to any object, I should be prepared to say goodbye to that item. This time, I drew the illusion directly on my skin, as my skills weren't yet advanced enough for more. I simply couldn't create a coherent design outside of my body.

It's frustrating beyond words. Mainly because I could have anticipated this outcome, but in the heat of the battle, I didn't think about the consequences when I created the illusion of the Rune on my soles. Especially since that strike was largely excessive, as I had already broken the King's arm, shattering its elbow joint.

On the other hand, this is a learning experience. Now I know that if I apply Des to the tip of a spear, it will essentially be a single-use weapon. Yet, such destruction could still be used, as I once did before - creating small bombs from stones. These makeshift grenades might not be as powerful as alchemical ones, but they could still be quite helpful. As for applying Runes directly to enemies' bodies after mastering Illusion magic - as this battle showed, that's not straightforward either. For instance, it wouldn't work on the Monkey King. A rune drawn on his fur would be made up of hairs, and the slightest movement or gust of wind would disrupt the integrity of the runic design, rendering rune activation impossible. Against humans, applying Runes to the body probably wouldn't work either. One of the first abilities almost everyone who reaches the Precious Coil of the Spiral masters is "Purification." This skill essentially "washes off" basic foreign magic from you, and due to their straightforward action, Runes can also be categorized under this type of magical art. This skill isn't accessible below the Stone Coil since it's based on the changes in one's body's energetics, which happen to those who break through the first Wall. This made me wonder if, because of my "Adamantium Body" Achievement, I could already master it even now.

However, even with all these limitations, Runes can undoubtedly be incredibly useful. It is so because, despite their drawbacks, they have a unique feature. The "trick" is that, unlike other magic, they hardly consume any of the caster's energy. Only a tiny burst is needed for their activation, and then the Rune draws power from Ain's ambient magic.

"How did you manage to do that?" Norton, who had approached me, asked, examining the destroyed boots in my hands.

"It's a side effect of one of my skills that I wasn't aware of, as I haven't used it in this manner before," I replied honestly, not taking my eyes off the remnants of the boots.

"Yes! Yes! Yes!" Our conversation was interrupted by a shout from the redhead, who had cut out the Heart of the boss and was now shaking it, holding it high above his head.

"Don't mind Gontar," the spearman immediately waved off, "you get used to him. He's actually a good guy. A bit restless, but genuinely good."

"I was impressed by his dance," I admitted with a sincere smile, recalling the redhead's pirouettes under a hail of stone shards.

After the lanky guy retrieved the Heart and had his moment of joy with it, Gronthor asked everyone to gather. When everyone sat on stone blocks, he began:

"As we agreed earlier, the Heart of the Master goes to Gontar. He'll compensate its value by adding the necessary gold to the common pool." After scanning everyone, the sheriff continued. "No objections, that's good. Now, about the expenses. According to the Tunnellers' Guild Code, necessary consumables and non-negligently damaged equipment and weapons are, where possible, compensated from the common pool. Vivien and I have checked, and our verdict is that nobody wasted potions. Everyone, take ten minutes to inspect your gear and then come to me and report what you've used or damaged."

"Here's the thing," Norton began, "Raven's boots got destroyed." Turning to me, he said, "Show them. That kick from Raven that broke the Master's shoulder? This is the result. I think that kick saved us a lot on potions. After the Master became one-armed, it never hit any of us again. So, I suggest we compensate Raven for the loss of his boots."

"Any objections?" The sheriff asked, and after everyone remained silent, he added, "Accepted. Next, we'll split into groups of four and scour the entire dungeon in case any creature is hiding. Don't collect anything yet."

I raised my hand.

"Speak."

"The floor here is all covered in stone debris, and without soles on my boots, I can't run around much. Also, it's probably not wise to entrust me with collecting oil and parchment since I might mess it up, not out of malice, but due to inexperience. If no one objects, I'd just like to walk around the dungeon. It clearly resembles a replica of some ancient library; maybe I'll find something interesting. I'd also ask Norton to stay with me, as I'm currently not in any condition to fight. I drained all my energy on those blows to the boss, and some creature might have indeed survived, hiding and waiting for a moment. There have been cases..."

They would've assigned someone to me anyway to ensure that the outsider didn't wander off alone and pocket something. So the suggestion to leave a spearman with me instantly dispelled the locals' suspicions of whether "this Raven might be a rat."

"We've searched every corner here multiple times already." The redhead dismissed, "What do you hope to find here?"

"Even a single page of ancient text can be useful," I replied with a smile.

"That single page might end up being worth more than everything we've taken from here," Vivien interjected as she stood up. "Raven is here for the first time like us, with fresh eyes. We might spot something new, so we'll also be observant."

"Norton?" The sheriff turned to the spearman.

"Yes, I agree. It'll be less work for me." The tunneller grinned.

The sheriff assigned teams for cleaning up, and soon Norton and I were left alone in the boss' room.

"Do you really want to find something, or did you just come up with a reason to not work?" Sitting down beside me, the spearman asked curiously. "Don't get me wrong, I'm the same. I love money but am not so fond of working." He chuckled softly.

"You know, in such dungeons, one can indeed find things, even in those that have been cleared out weekly for centuries."

"I've heard such stories." Norton turned serious instantly. "Never found any myself, but I've heard about it several times. Are you a treasure hunter?" In the tunnellers' circle, that's what they called those who hunted for rarities and, consequently, knew how to look for them.

"More of a pilgrim. I wander the world, visiting even the abandoned temples."

"Ah!" The spearman slapped his thigh. "You must be heading to the ruined small temple of Magevra!"

"Yes, I heard about it somewhere - I can't remember where exactly - and, being in your region, I decided to check it out."

"Well, there's not much to see there. I've been there. Since the Fall, the Swift River, on which it was built, changed its course several times, so all that's left of the temple is its name and some half-ruined walls."

"I've heard that there are preserved frescoes."

"The place is so overgrown with weeds that you'd have to work with an axe for a week just to see those paintings," Norton laughed, "I'm telling you, a week is the least."

"Can you show me the way?"

"Why wouldn't I?" The spearman scratched the back of his head. "Once we're done here, we'll head out, and I'll show you. But you won't make it there without proper boots."

"Can't I buy them in the village?"

Norton stretched his legs next to mine and clicked his tongue.

"Raven, you have some big feet! I have the biggest feet in the village, but yours are even larger."

True, I do have notably large feet, even by Earth's standards. This seemingly insignificant detail greatly aided me in gymnastics. Because of my large foot size, landings after jumps were easier for me than they did for those with smaller feet.

"Let me take a look."

I handed him my boots, or rather what remained of them. He examined them for about two minutes before returning them to me.

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"I'll talk to Grandpa Makari. He'll fix up the soles for you. It's impossible to repair them properly; these boots have seen their days. But the old man is skilled. He'll patch them up so you can wear them for another week. After that, maybe you'll reach the city and buy a new pair."

"Is there any way to fix them, even temporarily?" I questioned with doubt.

"Yep," the pikeman replied simply. "Especially after I put in a good word."

"Thank you."

"It's all of us who should be thanking you," Norton brushed off. "Unlike Gontar, I've killed this monster before," he gestured towards the corpse of the King, "and I can tell you that things were just getting started. If it weren't for you, we wouldn't have gotten off so easily."

He was right about that.

"It's not my first time," I responded with a smile. "The tip of my lost spear was made from the Heart of a King."

"Oh, wow," the tunneller exclaimed, raising his hands in surprise. "That's a painful loss."

"But I don't plan to go back for it."

"Wise. A wootz harakandid is a dangerous creature."

"I'll look around here for a bit if you don't mind?"

"Sure, look around! It's not like I own the dungeon!" Norton exclaimed, laughing at his wit.

In places similar to the Library Dungeon, one couldn't obtain forgotten artifacts, but one could stumble onto a small piece of knowledge. No, I didn't believe I'd find even a page from ancient texts. I was searching for Runes that might have been preserved in such a place, resembling the underground storage of libraries of Ishid or Aerad.

While I was inspecting the hall, the other tunnellers returned. They didn't find any lurking nends, but they finished off a couple of especially resilient creatures. A third of the tunnellers, led by Vivien, stayed in the boss' chamber to dissect its carcass for ingredients. Gronthor's group began gathering oil and parchment. This task would take them at least two hours.

In the main hall, I found nothing. Taking the remnants of my boots, I moved on to other rooms under Norton's lazy supervision. Inspecting four of them took almost an hour and a half and was just as fruitless. But in the fifth one, I noticed something.

"Norton, can you lift me up onto your shoulders?" I asked the spearman.

"Did you find something?" The tunneller perked up.

"I'm not sure yet. Just lend me your shoulders so I can get a closer look."

Near the very ceiling, I discerned the remnants of some mosaic - a circle divided into twenty-five sections. Well, it used to be a circle once, but now only three sections remained, each no larger than my palm. Apparently, this was the remnants of a Runic Circle. My fingers trembled with excitement as I began to clean the surviving parts of the mosaic from centuries of dust and dirt. The first two sections were so densely covered with cracks that I couldn't even approximately determine which Runes were inscribed on them. However, the third one seemed to be intact. Now, I need to understand if the Essence within this symbol remained or has faded with time.

"How long do you want me to hold you?" Norton inquired.

"About ten minutes, or is it too hard for you?"

"Nah, I'm at the Steel rank. I can carry you for an hour if needed. Just tell me, did you really find something we missed?"

"You're distracting."

"Alright, alright, quiet. Holding you up like Jegur holds Doom Rock."

Meditating while seated on someone else's shoulders wasn't very comfortable, but I tried to merge with the Rune inscribed ages ago. The surrounding world ceased to exist for me - all that remained in my perception was the Rune and me. I didn't manage in ten minutes. When I asked Norton to lower me, I saw that all the tunnelers who had finished their work by this time were quietly but curiously watching me.

"I can see by your face that you've found something," the sheriff said as soon as my feet touched the cold dungeon floor. "Tell us."

I raise my palm upward.

"Remnants of a Runic Circle. Do you see the design where I cleared it?"

"Yes," the sheriff briefly replied for everyone.

"It's the Rune of Birth." I looked at everyone present and added, "A Living Rune."

"Damn," exclaimed Norton, looking up.

"It won't be of much use to you, but remember its design, and when someone is giving birth, draw this Sign above the expectant mother. If none of you are a Reader, it won't help much, but it will help a bit."

"Sage..." whispered Vivien and her entire group bowed deeply.

"No, I'm not an Initiate, just a Reader."

"My wife is about to give birth, and the healer says the labor will be difficult," Antan approached me, bowed, and said, "It must have been Sundbad himself who brought you to us at this time." He hugged me so tightly that it took my breath away.

In contrast to the cities, in the villages, ancient knowledge is treated with much more respect, and this is immediately noticeable by the way every tunneller's gaze changed towards me without exception. This discovery both pleases and saddens me. On one hand, I've obtained one of the Runes of the Word Life. On the other, I already knew where to get it in the future and had hoped for something more practical.

For about ten more minutes, the tunnellers examined the Rune on the ceiling, but none of them could Understand it. Nevertheless, in their eyes, the remaining Rune Circle radiated something akin to reverential admiration.

"Enough gawking!" The sheriff's shout broke their trance. "We've lingered here too long. Grab your bags and baskets, and head out!"

Despite my barefoot state, I had to carry two baskets filled with amphorae containing precious oil. The tunnellers had scraped this oil from every lamp and lantern in the dungeon, so we had to navigate by the light of torches we had brought along. Nonetheless, we reached the exit without incidents, although I did stub my bare toe on a stone, damn it. Outside, it was still a deep night. Following Norton, we made our way to the sandy riverbank, where we temporarily dumped our loot into one pile.

"We finished quickly," Gronthor summarized. "It's still about four hours till dawn. We'll divide our haul here. Vivien, you know the local prices. Do you mind if, after the count, I give you the equivalent in money, and we keep all the goods?"

"I was about to suggest that. Though, we would take four amphorae of oil. Not for sale, we'll take it to our Temple as an offering."

"If it's not for sale, then agreed."

Usually, when multiple groups of tunnellers embark on an expedition, a sheriff is called to oversee the distribution to ensure fairness. However, in our case, the sheriff was already among us, so the locals began the count and sorting right away. As I wasn't familiar with the local prices, I didn't interfere. In essence, the money from this expedition, which the redhead had paid, wasn't crucial to me. I had nearly ten times as much sewn into my belt. Nevertheless, I, of course, never thought of declining my share. I planned to accept it, like the guest group, in pure gold.

As is often the case, the division was a slow process. Disputes, even among comrades, persisted without end. It took two hours for everyone to seemingly reach an agreement. Sometimes, despite the Tunnellers' Guild's regulations, the division of loot ends in real bloodshed. It doesn't happen as frequently as is talked about in taverns and inns along trade routes, but it does occur. Even well-coordinated groups who've gone through a lot together might turn on each other. Alas, people remain people, even in Ain.

"Antan," I began, even though I sat next to the broad-shouldered man, ensuring everyone could hear. "Regarding your wife's labor."

"Yes, Reader?" Although he had just called me Raven, the moment I steered the conversation in this direction, the giant's mood shifted instantly, his tone becoming more respectful.

"You live nearby, in the village about an hour's walk upstream, correct?"

"That's right."

"I'll have to linger here for at least four hours while my boots are being fixed."

"Six," Norton interrupted, "at least six hours."

"Alright, six then," I nodded, "bring me a piece of white cloth, elbow-width wide and as tall as you."

"I'll find and bring it," agreed the soon-to-be father.

"As far as I understand, your wife's situation is complicated. Potions and alchemy are already forbidden for pregnant women, especially in severe cases. That is if your goal is to keep the child healthy."

"Yes! That is the goal!" The giant nodded vehemently.

"Then listen carefully."

"Yes, Reader!"

Apart from him, the other tunnellers had forgotten their tasks and tuned in to our conversation.

"You, like all the gathered tunnellers, are clearly not poor. I'd say you're well-off, even by local standards. Is that correct?"

"That's right!" The giant surveyed everyone with a glance, noting their nods of agreement.

"So, for the birth, you'll summon a priest."

"Of course!"

"My advice: between the priests of Elai and Ishii, choose a servant of the Maiden, who was once a human."

"Understood."

"Next. When you bring me the cloth, I'll inscribe a Rune on it and infuse a bit of my power into it. When the priest arrives, show them this Rune. Even without Understanding, they should know the meaning of this particular Sign. If they don't, dismiss them immediately. Whether male or female, they are an idiot, unwilling to learn, and poorly versed in their goddess' Scripture."

"Alright, I was planning on consulting the priests of Ishii anyway."

"Moreover, remember this part even more carefully. When the time comes, and the priest arrives, after they confirm that the Rune is safe, heat the water until it boils. Boil a lot at once. Once it's cooled down a bit, wash your hands thoroughly with soap, and make the priest and the midwife do the same. Force the midwife to wash her hands, up to the elbow! Without this, everything else is in vain."

"Understood, I'll make sure of it! I'll pay extra to the priest." The giant's eyes are serious; he hangs on to every word I say.

"Then, under the priest's supervision, you personally, and I stress personally, must prick your finger until it bleeds. One finger, no more. Don't cut it; just prick it. Then trace my drawing with your own - fatherly - blood. Again, do all this under the priest's watchful eye so there's no room for gossip among the neighbors. This isn't Blood magic; it's magic of Affinity, which is different. The priest will understand and won't object. I repeat: a smart priest won't. You might not Understand the Rune, but you know its meaning and sincerely wish health to your wife and unborn child. You do wish that, don't you?"

"I do!"

"And now, the most important part. Don't channel any magic into the Rune. Don't do it. Without Understanding, you'll only harm it. Just wholeheartedly wish for the birth to go smoothly. Again, the main thing is that everyone present during the birth, and your wife too, must have clean hands washed in boiled water."

"I'll make sure of it!"

"I can't promise everything will go smoothly. But!" I raise a finger. "Ain itself nourishes Runes, so if the world doesn't oppose your child's birth, chances are everything will be alright."

"Thank you, Reader, I've memorized everything."

Magic and alchemy shouldn't be used on pregnant women; it often harms the fetus. Nothing, except priestly magic, should influence a child until they're a year old. Because of this, child mortality in Ain, while much lower than during Earth's medieval times, is sadly still a fact of life. Runes, on the other hand, draw from the world's energy and have no side effects. Moreover, even if the Rune doesn't work, the clean hands of the midwife significantly increase the chances of a favorable outcome.

I asked Antan to repeat what he remembered, and I was satisfied with his response. Also, the fact that everyone heard our conversation reassures me. I'm confident that if the giant's wife's childbirth goes smoothly, the "ritual of clean hands" will quickly become customary among the locals. This seemingly insignificant act, unrelated to saving the world, made me smile. Maybe because, at that moment, I felt useful. Useful here and now, not somewhere in the potential future. It was a somewhat unfamiliar but pleasantly warm feeling.