A pencil sketch for a book cover set in a medieval fantasy world, portraying a haunted and mystical atmosphere. The sketch features a less detailed, more abstract style, capturing the essence of a haunted setting. A person stands in the center, with their veins pulsating with a mysterious glowing hue, suggesting magical or supernatural elements. The background is a storm, but it's depicted in a more suggestive, less detailed manner, with ghostly shapes and eerie shadows to enhance the haunted theme. The overall composition is designed to intrigue and captivate, perfect for a fantasy book cover. [https://files.oaiusercontent.com/file-ApHbUDgKMPTM5V41g9OPYShH?se=2023-12-10T16%3A04%3A45Z&sp=r&sv=2021-08-06&sr=b&rscc=max-age%3D31536000%2C%20immutable&rscd=attachment%3B%20filename%3De9ac6744-ffdf-466c-a2e5-8a95771a15c3.webp&sig=ZY8/YZ%2B4axRJZ3NRnVA%2BT8fSW%2BUmF%2BMhcW7cgxlt1kU%3D]
Sketch of Archmage Hemilion returning from the constellation storm. His haze resulted in the death of a thousand soldiers, from both sides. - A critical reflection upon history, 1173.
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Arthur found himself adrift in an endless void, an expanse filled with darkness. The vast emptiness surrounding him pressed upon his senses, leaving him feeling trapped and disoriented. He floated aimlessly, lost in the featureless abyss, unable to gauge the passage of time or discern any direction. Was he ascending? Descending? Or was he not moving at all?
His contemplation was abruptly shattered by a sharp, piercing sensation that surged from within his abdomen. In response, Arthur instinctively reached out to investigate the source of this discomfort. To his astonishment, his hand seemed to pass effortlessly through his body, prompting him to cast off his clothing in a bewildered frenzy.
Now completely exposed, he beheld a mesmerizing spectacle: a celestial tapestry of stars twirling within the cavity of his own torso. These stars were all too familiar; they represented his sub-attunement as a Magictech Industrialist. Peering deeper into this cosmic display, he focused on the source of his discomfort, which led him to two ashen planets, each orbiting its own radiant star.
He inspected the first of these gray planets but found it devoid of any meaningful information. He paused-and looked around within this solar system. Amidst the nebulous obscurity, he discerned one planet bathed in an ethereal green aura. He inspected that planet, a notification flashed before him:
Solarsystem: Data Analysis Inspect-planet: Green: Inhabitants dedicated to understanding their environment and materials, allowing the attuned to gain insight into their surroundings.
Now it was for certain—he had entered the Data Analysis solar system and embarked on the process of “Gazing upon the Universe.” A realization that only brought more questions with it.
“So, by gazing upon the universe,” Arthur mused aloud, “I am essentially gazing upon myself.” He paused, stunned by the beauty of the constellations. “Is this how I truly appear? A collection of celestial bodies, each representing a facet of my soul within this world?”
Suddenly, the planets ceased their graceful orbits around their respective stars, and the stars themselves began to shift and realign. The entire solar systems fell into place within the overarching Magictech Industrialist collection, and a resounding voice echoed through the cosmic expanse:
“THIS WILL SUFFICE.”
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Solarsystem: Data Analysis Solarsystem: Mana Manipulation Visualization-planet: green: inhabitants dedicated to presenting their thoughts in a visual manner, allowing the attuned to aggregate information and visualize it. Novice-planet: green: populated by mages who migrated of the fledging planet after achieving their first circle. Attuned individuals are now able to draw upon the ambient mana to improve their physical abilities and recover from fatigue.
Arhur jolted awake. The message still hovering in front of him. For a few minutes he just lay there, taking in everything that had just happened and trying to remember his strange dream. The more he tried to remember it, the more the memory seemed to fade until only a slight feeling of wholeness remained.
Not wanting to waste time any longer, he threw off his blanket and strode through the room, its occupants shrouded in blankets like dormant figures in a waking dream There was no surge of excitement coursing through him, but a fierce determination thrummed in his veins. Determined to perform again.
He began that performance by throwing the door open to the sunlight. Groans and curses sounded behind him as groggy runners awoke. Arthur turned toward them, hands on hip. Squad One currently had thirty-four members. currently counted thirty-four members, but their numbers were ever shifting. Of course, for the spear formation to be viable, they required a minimum of twenty-five runners, for the runes’ power to triumph over nature’s innate resistance.
He had some experience managing large groups of people in a corporate setting but doubted that the same approaching would be helpful at this early phase. No, let’s go the military route for now.
“Up and organize!” Arthur thundered in his best commanding tone.
The men in the barrack blinked bleary eyes at the sudden disruption.
“That means,” he bellowed with unwavering authority, “out of the barracks and form ranks! You do it now, or I swear by the constellations that I’ll haul you out one by one myself.”
Phae, ever the attentive observer, revolved slowly around Arthur, taking in the unfolding scene. Some of the runners sat up, gazing at him in bafflement, while others turned over in their blankets, attempting to ignore the commotion.
Arthur drew in a deep breath, “So be it”. Without hesitation, he strode into the room and singled out a lean man named Michael. Arthur needed a compelling example, and one of the skinnier men, like Dan or Noah, wouldn’t suffice. Moreover, Michael was among those who had turned away, intent on returning to sleep.
Summoning his inner strength, Arthur seized Michael by one arm and exerted all his might, pulling the young man to his feet. Michael, who appeared to be close to Arthur’s age and sported a hawkish visage, reacted with irritation.
“Get off,” Michael snapped, yanking his arm back.
Unfazed, Arthur invoked his Data Analysis skill, inspecting the man before him. He superimposed a visual overlay atop Michael’s form, and the inspect skill streamed a wealth of information into his consciousness. The man’s name, his attunement to the [farmer] constellation, and his equipment became crystal clear, displayed within a visual overlay box encasing the individual.
Arthur had held a glimmer of hope that the visual overlay might reveal the men’s vulnerabilities, but ultimately, it didn’t matter. He didn’t require any special skills to make a scene.
Arthur unleashed a powerful punch to Michael’s abdomen, targeting the spot he knew would leave the man gasping for air. Michael, taken entirely by surprise, doubled over in shock, and Arthur seized the opportunity to grab him by the legs, hoisting him over his shoulder.
You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.
Arthur almost toppled from the weight. Luckly, carrying heavy shield was harsh but effective strength training. Of course, few runners survived long enough to reap the benefits of this training. This was part of the issue—runner squads spent most of their time either staring at their own feet or engaging in menial chores, only to be called upon for exhausting sprints.
Once outside, Arthur gently set Michael down on the stone ground. The rest of the camp had awoken, with woodworkers bustling in the lumberyard, and soldiers commencing their morning routines or drills. The other squads, however, still slumbered, unless they were assigned morning run duties.
Arthur re-entered the low-ceilinged barrack, determinedly addressing the assembled runners. “I’ll do the same to each of you if I have to.”
But it didn’t come to that. The stunned runners began to file out into the light, blinking against the sudden brightness. Most of them stood half-naked, clad only in knee-length trousers. Michael climbed to his feet, rubbing his stomach and shooting an accusatory glare at Arthur.
“Things are going to change in Squad One,” Arthur declared firmly. “For starters, there will be no more sleeping in.”
“And what are we going to do instead?” Salex, a man with a yellowish complexion and long braided hair, demanded.
“Excellent questions,” Arthur acknowledged with a nod. “We are going to train. Each morning, before we tackle our daily chores, we will hone the skills from our attunement.”
More than one man’s expression darkened at this prospect.
“I know what you’re thinking,” Arthur continued, addressing their concerns. “Aren’t our lives hard enough? Shouldn’t we be able to relax during the brief moments of respite we have?”
“Yeah,” chimed in Luan, a short man with curly hair. “That’s right!”
“No,” Arthur snapped, his voice unyielding. “Those grueling runs exhaust us because we spend most of our days idling away. True, we have chores—foraging, cleaning latrines, scrubbing floors. But the soldiers don’t expect us to toil tirelessly; they simply want us to stay busy. The work keeps them from paying too much attention to us.”
“As your frontrunner, it’s my duty to ensure your survival,” Arthur declared. “There’s not much I can do about the Knights’ arrows, but I can do something about you. I must make you stronger, so our formation doesn’t shatter as easily. When we’re catapulted to the backlines, we’ll still stand.”
He met the gaze of each man in the line, one after another. “I am determined to ensure that Squad One never loses another man.”
The men stared at him in disbelief. Finally, a robust, thick-limbed man at the back burst into laughter. He hailed from the mountains and bore the build to match. He went by the name Roan.
“You’re crazy,” Roan declared amidst chuckles. “Who is this man who thinks he can lead us?” His laughter resonated with a deep, hearty sound, and the others joined in, shaking their heads at Arthur’s impassioned speech.
“Hey, Galvin!” Michael called out, clearly employing a skill to amplify his voice.
“What?” Galvin responded with a scowl.
“This one wants us to train carrying shields as practice,” Michael called back, his voice laced with skepticism. “Do we have to do what he says?”
“Bah,” Galvin replied, dismissively waving a hand. “Frontrunners only have authority in the field.”
Michael glanced back at Arthur, a challenging look in his eyes. “Looks like you can go your cosmic way, friend. Unless you’re going to beat us all into submission.”
The runners dispersed, with some heading back into the barrack and others making their way toward the mess halls. Arthur found himself standing alone on the stone ground.
“That didn’t go so well,” Phae commented from his shoulder.
“No. It didn’t,” Arthur replied, frustration etched across his face. He glared at Galvin, who conspicuously avoided his gaze.
“You look surprised,” Phae observed.
“No, just frustrated,” Arthur admitted. “Back on Earth, I worked with juniors who didn’t have experience but would pull their weight when given a task.”
“What’s the difference?” Phae inquired, a genuinely innocent question.
Arthur sighed, recognizing the stark contrast between his previous world and this unfamiliar one. “The juniors back home wanted to be there. They went through the application process, underwent training, and viewed their first job as an opportunity to learn and grow as individuals. If they were fired, it would hinder their career prospects. But these runners here, there’s no downside to not working. They’ve already hit rock bottom.”
“So, what do you do now?” Phae asked.
“I don’t know,” Arthur admitted, his gaze shifting to where Galvin still engaged in conversation with the soldiers. “Actually, yes, I do.”
Galvin suddenly spotted Arthur approaching and his expression transformed into one of urgent, wide-eyed horror. He abruptly broke off his conversation and hastily scurried around the side of a stack of logs, clearly trying to evade Arthur’s scrutiny
“Phae,” Arthur said, turning to his celestial companion, “could you follow him for me?”
Phae responded with a humming sound before transforming into a mechanical bird, flapping its wings to catch up with Galvin. Arthur remained where Galvin had been standing, and waited.
Phae returned a short while later and resumed his robotic form. “He’s hiding between those two barracks,” Phae pointed out. “He’s crouched there, watching to see if you follow.”
With a knowing smile, Arthur decided to take the long route around the barracks. In the narrow alleyway, he found a figure crouching in the shadows, facing the opposite direction. Arthur silently approached and seized Galvin’s shoulder. The startled man let out a yelp, spinning around and attempting to strike. But Arthur was already drawing upon his mana, and he deftly caught Galvin’s fist.
Galvin stared up at Arthur, terror evident in his eyes. “I wasn’t going to lie! By the lost attuned, you don’t have authority anywhere other than on the field. If you hurt me again, I’ll have you—”
“Calm yourself, Galvin,” Arthur interjected, releasing the man’s shoulder. “I’m not going to hurt you. Not yet, at least."
The shorter man retreated a few steps, still rubbing his shoulder and glaring at Arthur with a mixture of defiance and apprehension.
“Today’s a good day,” Arthur remarked with a hint of a smile. “Payday.”
“You get your pay in an hour like everyone else,” Galvin said.
“No. You have it now. I saw you talking to the courier there.” He extended his hand.
Galvin grumbled but complied, pulling out a pouch and beginning to count the coins. Two silver pieces or twenty copper coins—it was a small sum for a weeks work. In this world, a single copper would buy a loaf of bread. Galvin counted out one silver and five copper coins and handed them over to Arthur. However, Arthur left his hand open, palm forward.
“The other one, Galvin”
“You said—"
“Now”
Startled, Galvin hastily grabbed the remaining five copper coins and handed them over. “You have a strange way of keeping your word, Archmage. You promised me...”
He trailed off as Arthur took the five coins he’d just been given and returned them to Galvin.
“Don’t forget where this comes from, Galvin,” he cautioned. “I’ll keep my word, but you aren’t keeping a part of my pay. I’m giving it to you. Understand?”
Galvin appeared confused but did snatch the coins from Arthur’s hand.
The money stops coming if something happens to me,” Arthur reiterated, his voice unwavering as he pocketed the remaining coins. He closed the distance between him and Galvin, his imposing stature casting a long shadow over the shorter man. “Remember our bargain. Stay out of my way.”
Galvin, refusing to be cowed, spat to the side, the dark spittle clinging to the rocky wall and slowly oozing down. “I ain’t going to lie. If you think five measly copper coins a week will—”
“I expect only what I said,” Arthur interrupted. “What is Squad One’s camp duty today?”
“Evening meal. Scrubbing and cleaning.”
“And run duty?”
“Afternoon shift.”
That meant the morning would be free for the squad. They could enjoy their payday by squandering their coins on gambling or whores, if only for a brief pause from their miserable lives. They’d need to return for their afternoon duty, waiting in the lumberyard in case a run was called. After the evening meal, they’d be back to scrubbing pots.
Another wasted day. Arthur turned to walk back to the lumberyard.
“You aren’t going to change anything” Galvin called after him. “Those men are runners for a reason”
Arthur kept walking, Phae orbiting around Arthur.
. Galvin’s voice grew more insistent. “You don’t have authority. You’re not some sergeant. You’re a cosmic runner. You hear me? You can’t have authority without a rank!"
Arthur left the alleyway behind. “he’s wrong.”
Phae shifted back to his robot form. He seemed to be shifting forms much more often Arthur thought, while Phae was cocking his head.
“Where does it come from?”
“From the men who give it to you. That’s the only way to get it.” He looked back the way he’d come. Galving hadn’t left the alleyway yet. “Phae, you don’t sleep, do you?”
“Sleep? An ever-present constellation?” " Phae responded, seemingly amused by the concept.
“Would you watch over me at night?” he said. “Make sure Galving doesn’t sneak in and try something while I’m sleeping? He may try to have me killed.”
“You think he’d actually do that?”
Arthur hesitated for a moment before responding. "No, probably not. I've known a dozen men like him—petty bullies with just enough power to be annoying. Galvin is a thug, but I don't think he's a murderer. Besides, in his opinion, he doesn't have to hurt me; he just has to wait until I get killed on a run. Still, it's best to be safe. Watch over me, if you would. Wake me if he tries something."
"Sure, will do!"
With an intrusion alarm set for the night, Arthur felt a little more at ease. He continued walking, heading towards the carpenters.