“Shit, why is it those cultists again? Are we cursed or something?”

“Stop yapping and move those legs of yours if you want to live!”

“Shit… fine…”

Amid the tumultuous chaos of the ongoing clashes between high-level individuals, a group of people shuffled about, trying to maintain order amidst the commotion. The center of their attention was a quartet of adventurers who, along with Bernir, Arthur, and Mary, were working tirelessly to assist the guests who had succumbed to the abyssal relic.

Together, they carried the unconscious guests toward a hidden tunnel, concealed behind one of the towering windmills on the compound. This secret passage could only be accessed by performing a peculiar sequence of actions, and the blacksmith in the group was quickly performing this task that the other adventures were unfamiliar with.

Within a few moments, a rectangular block of earth slid to the side, revealing a set of steps leading downward. The tunnel wasn't very spacious and would likely necessitate carrying the unconscious guests in a single file. This was quite challenging for the terrified individuals. Not far from them, a battle between a bizarre monstrosity and the Guild Master was unfolding, and it was a confrontation they wanted to avoid at all costs. Everyone here realized that it was a realm that they had not stepped into and would just become collateral if they ever dared to step too close.

“Quickly, we must gather everyone here and carry them down, one by one!”

The only person managing to stay calm, despite being just a Tier 2 class holder, was Lord Arthur. The four adventurers snapped out of their initial shock upon hearing his voice and nodded in response. They had already transported several people to this location, but there were still a few unconscious individuals scattered around. While two of them could start carrying some of the remaining guests down into the tunnel, the other two could go after the remaining ones.

“Aye, let us hurry and leave it up to the Boss, he will take care of those cultist bastards for us! The best thing we can do is stay out of his way so he can fight freely.”

Bernir faced the group and was the first to step down into the tunnel. He understood that as long as there were non-combatants in the area, Roland couldn't unleash his full power. The entire compound could potentially become a massive bomb, but it wasn't something he could risk when so many innocent lives were at stake. Their best course of action was to step aside and let the Tier 3 class holders handle the situation. Escaping was their top priority.

As Bernir descended into the tunnel, he couldn't shake the feeling that there was more he could contribute. Doubts began to cloud his mind. While Roland was undeniably strong, he was not invulnerable, and he had narrowly escaped death on numerous occasions. The cultists were a formidable and fanatical group, willing to sacrifice their lives for their cause. Thankfully, his wife and child were not present in this perilous situation. Their absence allowed him to contemplate the possibility that he could do more than merely guiding people to safety. While ensuring their well-being remained his top priority, it didn't mean he couldn't consider further actions after their safe escape.

Without being able to make up his mind, he continued down into the workshop. Inside, his mind raced as he contemplated the best tactic. It would have been straightforward to lead the guests to safety if they were awake, but they were all still under the spell of the strange relic. There was a possibility that they might awaken if they were removed from the item's range, but he wasn't sure. Therefore, their only way out was through a recently constructed special tunnel.

"I was wondering why he wanted to make this... now it makes sense..."

Among the various escape tunnels, there were even decoy tunnels designed to confuse potential pursuers and lead them into trapped areas. One particular tunnel was ideal for the current situation, equipped with a small railway. Carts had been placed inside, along with a runic device designed to propel them forward. Initially, Bernir couldn't fathom the purpose of these carts, as there was nothing to mine in the tunnel. However, in their current predicament, the carts proved to be a perfect fit for the unconscious guests. There was ample space in those carts to accommodate all the guests, and they could ride them to safety. As long as everyone made it there, their escape route would be secure.

Just as he was about to open the escape tunnel to inspect the carts, the entire workshop began to shake. The reinforced ceiling, strengthened with powerful magic and reinforced with steel, trembled, causing small rocks to fall. The deafening explosion resonated through the chamber, indicating a fierce battle was underway. There was a looming risk of the underground workshop being destroyed again, with the ceiling giving way. Time was of the essence, so the dwarven blacksmith sprang into action. He needed to ensure everyone's safety, a mission he had been entrusted with, and one he was determined to execute without fail.

…

"No more jokes? I guess with that foot, you won't be going anywhere far..."

Roland surveyed the abyssal assassin woman, trying to push through the splitting headache and pain wracking his body. He had created a massive magical explosion centered around himself, an attack he had barely withstood. His own hit points had fallen by about a quarter, but there was a method for recovery. Even without resorting to potions, his armor radiated a mix of blue and golden light. The emulated divine energy restored his cracked bones and healed potential internal injuries.

This, combined with the Rapid Machine Reassembly skill working on his armor, transformed him into something akin to a zombie. As long as he had mana, his armor could be repeatedly restored. Paired with restoration spells, this allowed him to take some risks. His opponent had clearly not anticipated his self-destructive strategy and had misjudged her attack. Now that her body had been wounded, he wouldn't let this opportunity go to waste.

With the abyssal assassin woman severely injured and her mobility limited by her mangled foot, Roland saw a chance to finally gain the upper hand in this intense battle. The woman, Jezryna, was no longer as confident and mocking as before. Her characteristic sly smile had faded, replaced by a scowl of pain and frustration.

Still surrounded by his reassembled golems and turrets, Roland didn't waste any time. He channeled his remaining mana into a powerful spell. The runes on his armor lit up even brighter, and he launched an intricate array of runic projectiles, each guided by a precise trajectory. These projectiles homed in on the assassin, targeting all of her critical areas in a shower of mana.

Jezryna, without speaking a word, desperately attempted to evade the incoming barrage. However, with her mobility hindered, she couldn't dodge with her usual agility. The magic projectile storm that she had previously danced around was not easily avoided with just one working foot. Even if she could still activate her intangibility skill, it was clearly taking a toll on her stamina. Slowly but surely, more injuries were appearing on her body and so she seeked an escape route.

Her gaze shifted to her allies, who in this situation could potentially act as distractions. The army of undead was being pushed back by a frenzied muscular man and a fiery wolf. Kovak the Necromancer, on the other hand, was struggling to concentrate due to the barrage of projectiles disrupting his incantations. It was a combination of the magical turrets, golems, and the concealed archer who consistently shifted her vantage points.

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

The number of lesser cultists had dwindled by half as they were unable to withstand the relentless barrage of magical weaponry. It was becoming evident that they had erred in confronting the runesmith within his own home. Their excessive reliance on the relic and their individual skills had backfired. They faced a choice: flee or regroup their forces for a counterattack before they succumbed to the continuous onslaught of magical attacks and mines.

Her most trusted partner, Ozrelak the Eldritch Warlock, was not faring much better than she was. The bald muscle man wielding an axe had enveloped his body in a peculiar reddish aura and was relentless with his attacks. She was well acquainted with Ozrelak's regenerative abilities and ferocity, but even his body was struggling to heal itself. Although his opponent had also sustained some damage, it was impossible to predict who would emerge as the victor. They were more or less on equal footing.

Before she could even call out to her allies, Roland launched an attack. This entire place was imbued with runic devices and traps. It was brimming with runic batteries and power generators that he could easily harness. Everything within had been designed by him, and every device could be modified to serve any purpose he desired. Even the mines and cables that crisscrossed the ground could have their runic components altered to produce new effects.

Despite the woman's ability to cope with the magical attacks, they were merely a distraction. What she truly needed to focus on was what lay directly beneath her. Roland was aware that during a battle, his mines would become exposed and possibly identified. Even now, the pale elf seemed to be able to pinpoint the locations of his runic devices. She likely possessed some skill for detecting magical traps or some form of danger sense. Even though he didn't intend for it, all of his devices emitted trace amounts of mana that likely triggered those detection skills.

There was a way to deceive someone's danger-sensing skills. These skills typically reacted to actual spells that could inflict damage or posed a threat. They wouldn't respond to runic devices inscribed with harmless spells, like cleaning spells, for example. Roland could remotely modify the runic components, reconfiguring them into previously designed creations. In this instance, he transformed them into magical explosives that would propel themselves at his target.

The buried plates with dummy runes shifted as he triggered his trap. Although the woman sensed that something was amiss, the devices were already rising from the ground. Soon, she found herself encircled by blocky objects adorned with numerous radiant runes. The intensity of their glow continued to surge until they reached the point of explosion.

Blood sprayed in all directions as the pale elf finally suffered some significant damage. It was evident that her intention was to use the undead monsters as cover and attempt an escape toward the necromancer. However, she was sent hurtling through the air, colliding with some of the monsters along the way. Her plan had some success in creating distance between herself and the attacking Roland, but it came at a cost - now one of her arms was broken in several places, and her health had plummeted below thirty percent.

‘Good that I didn’t underestimate her like they did me, otherwise…’

Despite her severe injuries, the woman remained a formidable adversary. In the midst of the numerous explosions and attacks, it was easy to lose track of an opponent. Hovering before him was a black dagger, mere millimeters away from his visor, and it had even left a slight scratch behind. The assassin had managed to throw one of her weapons while submerged in a magical onslaught. If he didn't have so many golemic eyes surveilling from every possible direction, it might have spelled the end for him.

‘She precisely aimed it at the armor’s weak point, that was close…’

With the black dagger narrowly missing Roland's visor, he had a newfound respect for the abyssal assassin's accuracy and determination. Her intangible skill made her difficult to predict and even harder to target. In her weakened state, she was still a dangerous opponent, and he knew he couldn't afford to underestimate her. With the amount of force this weapon had traveled, it might have been able to pierce the visor which was not as sturdy as mithril.

The dagger was caught within his mana shield and restrained by the mage hand spell. It continued to emit cursed energies that he had been carefully monitoring throughout the fight. If his skin were to be nicked by this weapon, he would quickly suffer from a variety of debuffing effects. Fortunately, he had immersed himself in the study of cursed enchantments for just such an occasion. After analyzing the weapon, he activated his runic authority to nullify the curse on the dagger. In no time, it transformed into nothing more than inert metal, its runic structures shifting into something entirely harmless.

“What are you doing? Can’t you handle one runic mage? Do I have to do everything myself?”

The necromancer shouted from a distance, detonating a few undead corpses to fend off his own adversaries. Nearly all of the carefully crafted undead monsters he had summoned lay on the ground. The high concentration of divine mana in the vicinity severely weakened his undead army. Even freshly advanced tier 3 class holders like Armand were able to contend with the higher-level monstrosities. Making him resort to casting attacking spells and corpse explosions that in turn ruined his creations.

“Shut up! Your information was incorrect, it’s all your fault!”

Jezryna responded with malice as she hobbled up onto her only good leg. Her entire body was scratched and burned by the magical explosions. They had not anticipated a battle of this magnitude. At most, they had expected mild resistance from the magical automatons they had dealt with at the beginning. No one had believed that their relic could be vulnerable to a runesmith or rune mage.

“This must be the Churches doing! They must have tempered with everything, the holy energy, and that beast proves it!”

In the necromancer's mind, this had to be some sort of ploy orchestrated by the Solarian church. Perhaps they had meticulously plotted this to draw them in, and now they found themselves ensnared. Roland, who was approaching and appeared to be the leader, might well be a high-level paladin. His status was hidden behind something, and he was evidently commanding everyone within the premises. It was rapidly dawning on them that they had walked into a trap, and perhaps escaping was the wisest option.

Kovak knew what he needed to do to survive. Even though their relic had been desecrated, it was better to stay alive and relay all the information to the Arch-Priestess. She could then formulate a new plan of action and potentially call in executive members from their temple and others to prepare a proper counterattack. With a wave of his skull staff, he initiated a spell that could only be used in dire circumstances. The lesser cultists who were still fighting began to tremble, and the bodies of those who had been defeated also underwent a similar transformation, morphing into abyssal abominations.

“We need to flee! Come on wench!”

Even though he didn't hold the woman in high regard, she was still a formidable ally, and he couldn't allow a high-tier member of their cult to fall into the church's hands. He couldn't trigger an abyssal transformation on someone of her level, so helping her out of this predicament was the only way to preserve the information they had. He used the newly formed abominations and his remaining undead as a smokescreen to cover their escape.

His enemies remained relentless, and the golems continued to reform themselves. However, the abominations' bodies were more challenging to deal with than the cultists, which gave him enough time to prepare a spell to assist Jezryna. Her body was enveloped in a green haze and rapidly drawn toward his location, right in the center of the previously destroyed wall.

Luck also appeared to be on their side as Ozrelak came crashing in from behind. He was missing his left arm along with one of the mantis blades, but his opponent had sustained a large wound to the shoulder. It seemed that he had overheard their conversation and recognized the wisdom of their escape. With the three of them together, they could now make their getaway.

“Good, we need to use this chance to flee! We need to report this issue to the…”

“NO…”

“No?”

“THE ABYSSAL LORD HAS SPOKEN!”

“What are you…”

Before Kovak could finish his sentence, his head was sent flying through the air. He witnessed the world turning upside down as it flew. Surprisingly, the one responsible for his demise was not an individual from the opposing force, but Ozrelak himself. The mantis blade had severed his head, and it rolled to the ground. Yet, Kovak remained alive. His body had been modified, but this only allowed him to witness it being consumed by the Eldritch Warlock, who had started chanting a forbidden spell, one that he was knowledgeable about and something that he could not stop…