The Runic Alchemist

Lightning coursed through Sam's veins, and for a moment, he felt as if he would burn to ashes. But the sensation stopped at its zenith, just leaving him with a boundless energy surging inside. It needed to be let out.

Sam stood at the foot of the hill, gazing down. The laughter and chattering had ceased; every Ashenvale soldier stared up at him, eyes wide with shock. They had witnessed the lightning fall, and now they saw a man wielding it.

"Now, this is a fair fight..."

A smirk tugged at Sam's lips. His injuries and exhaustion faded in seconds, as though they had been mere illusions. His sword hummed in his hand, sparks of lightning crackling along its naked blade. He took a step forward, then another, and as the new found power in his legs grew, he pressed deeply into the mud, launching into a superhuman sprint.

He moved so fast that the air whipped around him, and his blade buzzed as it sliced through the rain-soaked atmosphere.

The puddles reflected his visage—glowing blue lines tracing his body like veins, but these veins held lightning. His eyes sparked the same electric blue, enhancing his vision. He could see deeper into the dark cave now and could make out the leader's ugly face, which grew more serious second by second as Sam approached.

He reached the first group of soldiers that were not ready for him at all, To them, he was just a blur of blue light. Sam gripped his sword with both hands, executing a flawless Serpent's Path—a horizontal slash that normally carved through the air in a wide arc. It was one of the few simple sword forms he had learned from Valoris and mastered to the point of perfection.

But now, the blade was laden with condensed blue energy, bolts of lightning dancing around it. Though aimed at the nearest enemy, the attack cut and burned through the entire group of five soldiers, leaving a wide, charred mark in the mud where it landed. The rain struggled to wash away the scorched earth.

'What the hell..? Was that an aura blade..? No... more like a lightning blade...'

The remaining soldiers recoiled in fear, taking collective steps backward, until a voice roared from behind them.

"What are you running from, cowards? So what if he has powers? Attack him at once! Show the brat what Ashenvale's might looks like!"

The leader's command seemed to restore some courage, as the soldiers gripped their weapons and charged as one. Over a hundred men ran toward Sam, wielding swords, spears, spells, and aura laden fists. Yet Sam felt strangely calm.

The first soldier raised his sword to strike, but Sam moved faster than a flash of lightning. His blade slashed through the air, leaving a blinding arc of pure energy in its wake. The man didn't even have time to scream before his body was hurled backward, seared by the force of the strike.

Rain fell harder, mingling with the scent of burning flesh. Sam pivoted, his sword already singing through the air again, guided by both his mastery of the blade and the electricity coursing through his limbs. Each movement was precise, almost effortless, as though the storm itself had lent him its speed.

His blade cleaved through the armor of the next opponent, lightning jumping from one soldier to another, dropping several at once.

Another wave of soldiers charged, their spears gleaming through the rain. Sam dashed forward, his footfalls barely touching the ground. Nightvine Arc—a wide, electrified sweep of his blade—unleashed a crackle of lightning. Thunder rumbled in sync with the motion, as if the heavens themselves fought beside him.

His sword cleaved through ten men in one stroke, leaving their smoking bodies to collapse in the mud.

Though some soldiers hesitated, there were too many to stop. They circled him, weapons raised, hoping to trap him. But Sam's eyes gleamed with raw power, and the energy within him surged like a living beast. He funneled it into his weapon, spinning it in a deadly whirlwind of slashes.

Forest's Embrace—a horizontal spinning cleave charged with pure electric force—tore through their ranks, sending soldiers convulsing and sprawling as lightning rippled through their bodies.

These simple Eldoris sword forms that he had learned from Valoris seemed to align with his lightning veins perfectly, as if made just for it. For normal Spellswords this should have been aura but Sam had something better.

The rain poured down even harder, but it only seemed to fuel Sam's power. His sword danced through the downpour, droplets turning to steam as they neared the sizzling energy that enveloped him. Autumn's Fall—another wide, triple-crossing arc of lightning—exploded outward like tendrils, striking down soldiers even beyond his sword's reach.

One by one, the soldiers fell. Their armor crackled with residual sparks from his attacks. Sam moved like a phantom in the storm, his sword a beacon of destruction. His body had become a conduit for the lightning raging above, every strike faster than the last. He saw the pure fear in their eyes, but it was too late for them to retreat.

Sam leaped forward, lightning trailing behind him like a second blade. The storm intensified, and with it, his fury. He was no longer just a man wielding a sword—he was the lightning itself, unstoppable and untamed. Spinning, his sword became a blur of light and power, slicing through armor, flesh, and bone.

Mountain's Heart—an explosion of lightning that surged outward, engulfing the remaining soldiers in a blinding flash of white light.

When the light dimmed, Sam stood alone on the battlefield. The bodies of a hundred soldiers lay scattered around him. The rain had gentled, as though the storm had exhausted its rage with him, but the faint crackle of electricity still lingered in the air. His sword hummed with residual power.

The last man standing was the leader, he had lost all will to fight though. He had only just drawn his weapon, rushing toward Sam, but in that brief time, Sam had decimated his entire unit. Now, the man stood frozen in shock as Sam approached him slowly, his lightning-charged sword inches from his throat.

"Where are they?" Sam demanded.

No answer came. His rage flared, and the lightning grew fiercer, crackling against the leader's armor, snapping him out of his stupor. Even then, he didn't speak—he merely pointed trembling finger toward the cave, his eyes wide with terror, his mouth twitching as if too afraid to form words.

Sam gave him no chance. He plunged his blade into the man's throat, releasing triple the lightning needed to kill a man. The leader's body burned from the inside out, leaving only the sizzle of rain hitting scorched flesh, the crackle of dying electricity, and the dark, abyssal night.

As the storm finally calmed and the rain slowed, the women who had been moments away from being forced stared at their savior—both awed and fearful. The lightning dimmed in Sam's eyes, retreating deep within him, waiting to be summoned again by its master.