The Runic Alchemist

Chapter 861: The God of Steel Golems 2

I planned for years on how to hide from the other gods. I was the craftsman at heart after all, if anyone could do it, it had to be someone like me.

Even with the lack of mana and needed resources, I managed to design a runic tool that would hide my divine energy after reincarnating, and when the time came for my next reincarnation, I made the runic tool as fast as I could with what was available nearby.

I should be able to survive more than a decade now, even with the other gods hunting me, I thought. But it wasn’t as easy.

With the number of dwarves lessening with time, my stories had been lost. Not that I had done anything remarkable. In an attempt to slow our reincarnation, both dwarves and beastmen were brainwashed into not remembering their own history. The dwarves, the best craftsmen, were able to make do in the land of humans, but the beastmen, with their physical powers and forward personalities, were made slaves.

The Beast God wasn’t bound to one form like humans, dwarves, or elves. He could be any mana beast roaming the vast forest, could still evolve with his possession skill, and take humanoid form to master his pugilist techniques. He had trouble keeping his memories intact with constant change in forms, but every beast always wanted to evolve further. Once a high enough rank of mana beast was achieved, the momeries would return.

Finding him and containing him was hard for the followers of the god. So they chose the most effective way to further slow down beast god’s reincarnations—erasing all his memories from the minds of his followers. Enslaving them and then using some of their chosen heroes to save them, who were believers of the three ancient gods, worked like a charm in converting them.

I wasn’t as successful. But old dwarven folktales and passed-down rumors had kept me alive. I always managed to train a few of the best runesmith students, and they spread the knowledge of steel golems as best as they could. It was a weapon, so it raced no racial constraints and spread among humans, beastmen, and dwarves alike.

Unlike the element gods, I was different. There are restraints in becoming a craftsman god, but there are also advantages. I was a master of a technique, knowledge of craftsmanship—not a natural force. My methods and weapons were needed, so they were easy to teach. I didn’t need to achieve grand feats to stay alive in people’s minds.

Every time someone discovered my methods, even by mistake, I gained a follower.

Still, my followers were not as many as they once were. Each reincarnation, I became weaker and weaker. At first, I could take a fourth ranker form. Then only a third ranker, and now I am barely a second ranker.

I could not keep the runic tool hiding my divine energy active for long. And I was physically vulnerable, with all my mana used to just hide me. I couldn’t teach properly or do any other things that would have given me a chance at becoming a true god. All followers I gained were slain by the followers and scions of the three prominent gods. Once in a while, that bastard God of Chaos also messed up things.

Over time, the three gods tried to find the Chaos God’s true self and failed again and again. The war between the secret scions of the three gods and the scion of the chaos god went on for ages. No matter how much the three gods tried, they could never completely remove the dark believers. With his physical form still alive, the Chaos god had all his strength and then some. And just like the Sun god, none had seen his true physical form.

The Chaos God, unlike other gods, could truly make a pathfinder stronger than his or her rank limit. Fragments of his divinity created unimaginable horrors from simple pathfinders. No god wished any scion to become stronger than a fourth ranker. Chaos god, while keeping the scion a fourth-ranker, could raise their fighting powers beyond imagination.

So over time, my reincarnation duration became longer and longer till the time came when I spent centuries alone in my astral plane without any hope of ever returning. An eternal prison of my own making.

’Sighs’

“How I hated the fact that I was immortal. Couldn’t die, couldn’t even fucking sleep.”

But then one day I felt it. A connection to the physical world. It wasn’t powerful enough, but I could still return. I knew it was mere stupidity to go out with such a laughable strength. Only one believer! Even hundreds couldn’t make me a transcendent.

But I was without reason. Even a god could go mad without people. Absolute strength does not mean absolute peace of mind.

So I entered the physical world. But I couldn’t find my believer anywhere. I hoped to at least meet and give them some reward for letting me see this world again, but before I could, that damned wolf found me. Instead of killing me on the spot, the spawn of chaos imprisoned me.

With the prime spell runic chain, I was at the complete mercy of the dark wolf and, through him, the Chaos God. He visited once in a while, invading my weak astral plane, to torture and humiliate me. He wanted me to teach his dark believers the methods of creating primordial runic tools.

“At least I can die in peace now and return to my solitude without that bastard’s constant annoyance. You guys should prepare yourself. The followers of these gods won’t care if they have to kill a fellow believer to end me. I just hope once I am gone, you keep this story alive. I know it’s unbelievable, and you probably think I am an insane old creature that crawled out of some dungeon. But even as an amusing tale, let people know.”

[Here ends the last days of primordial age described by Steelweaver.]

**

[In the office of Lord Keeper, Sanctum Building, Damian’s POV.]

Damian stared at the old dwarf with a chaotic storm of thoughts in his mind. The stubborn geezer did not let anyone ask questions while he was talking.

And he talked. For hours.

Many things about the gods he suspected already, but it was good to have a confirmation. As the pigmen sun-god had said, the gods were simply fifth rankers. There was no further ascension, maybe. Or there was, but it is ridiculously impossible to achieve.

“Can you sign a mana contract stating all that you said is true?”

Before anyone could even wrap their heads around the tale told by the last dwarf, Vidalia asked with eyes sharper than naked steel.

Elves and their relation with the goddess Astraea was the most complicated one. That was the only bloodline that one could claim was a descendant of a true god. Because only the royal Eldoris family were the last remaining high elves. There were no male elves alive. As if nature itself knew of the dying species, elves were famous for having daughters.

Vidalia, the proud warrior, despite being aware that their glorious history was full of hidden secrets, could not accept that the very core of their faith was shaky at best.

Steelweaver looked at her with eyes full of pity and kindness.

“I can, but it will be useless. The world does not consider us, echoes, as natural beings. And so we are not beholden by its rules.” He replied.

“We can’t just acce—” Vidalia stood up and was about to reply, but Steelweaver cut her off.

“I am not questioning your faith, child. I myself am a god, but I would die for my patron god without any doubt. Astraea is better than the rest, I will say. Her sacrifice for her people is something I deeply respect. But she is still just an elf at the end of the day. Can you say with all your honor that you have always done good, honorable, selfless things in your life?”

Vidalia gritted her teeth; it wasn’t anger or resentment. Just the weight of her beliefs weighing down on her shoulders. Soon, it was replaced by a look of confusion and disbelief.

Damian stood up and held her shoulders for a moment, and helped her sit down.

“What sacrifice?” Mindseer asked.

Steelweaver closed his eyes.

“She has gone to great lengths to hide it, even though she is actively trying to kill me, I respect her enough not to reveal it.”

“And Sea God is a giant creature living right now in the ocean?” Sam asked, slight hints of doubt clear in his tone.

“I have travelled far in the ocean, I have not sensed any such thing,” Land-breaker added.

“Can you sense me?” Steelweaver asked, turning towards Landbreaker.

“I..” Landbreaker stammered, “Don’t.”

“How is that possible!?” Einar and Evrin spoke at once.

Souldealer turned towards Damian,

“Can you?” she asked.

He could. Another oddity of his unique status. Still, Damian shook his head.