The Runic Alchemist

[Snow region of the unknown planet, Sam's POV.]

The second they exited the dungeon, the chief—along with the whole village—was waiting right outside the dungeon hut. Seeing them, everyone broke out into loud shouts and joyous expressions. They surrounded Sam and the others, then escorted them to the village center, where a feast was prepared, featuring everything from fruits to beast meat and everything in between.

It was already the night of another day—they had spent a full 24 hours inside the dungeon. The pigman villagers danced around the fire, even somewhat forcing Sam and Grace to join them. Grace smiled brightly, following their wild and erratic dance steps. Sam had never seen her so full of life.

If he had a second heart in his chest, he would have given her that one too at that moment, without hesitation. Alas, he only had one—and she already had it.

In the end they were led to wooden hut-like houses, and the pigmen repeatedly pointed at them and then at the huts—most likely saying, It's yours now. The huts weren't large, only big enough to fit two people inside, similar to a tent. There were many empty ones to choose from, but they still decided to share, just to be safe: one for him and Grace, another for Sariel and Amy. The three Highswords each chose a hut of their own.

They had eaten too much, and though the dungeon was straightforward, it had still been exhausting. After dancing for so long, all the villagers eventually returned to their huts to sleep. The village chief had stayed with them for a while before retiring to his own hut—the same one as the dungeon entrance.

It had been a wild 48 hours, and they decided to retire for the night as well.

***

Late at Night – Around 3 AM

The snow covered village was as silent as death, drunk in moonlight.

Suddenly, a figure clad in black moved past the huts, slipping from one shadow to another. Just a little behind, another figure in black followed the first one, mirroring their movements. Slowly, they made their way toward a specific hut in the distance.

Then, the serene moonlight unveiled the shiny, sharp weapons clutched in their hands—materializing out of nowhere.

With a nod, both figures rushed inside the lone hut, their weapons poised for a fatal strike.

But..

'Khchzh…'

The second figure—standing just behind the first—suddenly saw a blinding light. A moment later, the first figure's head slid cleanly from their neck, staining the innocent white snow with dark, ominous red.

"No!" The second figure screamed as she realized who the glowing light really was.

But it was useless.

A cold, sharp blade pressed against her neck before she could even raise her sword, and in the next second—

The world turned upside down. Slowly fading away.

***

Sam sighed, his sword dripping with blood as Sariel patted his shoulder.

"You were right.."

Sam just nodded, looking away from the corpses of the two Highsword liars—Lidgney and Corques. Their stories had been full of holes, and he had doubted them from the beginning.

"Is it done?" Every asked, stepping out of the hut. He had performed his role as bait perfectly.

Sariel nodded toward the Highsword knight.

Amy and Grace also emerged from a distant hiding spot—they were the backup. Sam had used a method Damian once mentioned as useful for those without sensory-type skills.

They had released mana in one place for hours, making it so dense that when Sam left the hut, the second-ranker knights couldn't distinguish between his real body and the dense mana cloud. If someone was a true mana-sensing expert, it wouldn't have worked, but for most, it was impossible to detect such a subtle difference.

"How were you so sure they were guilty?" Amy asked.

Grace and Sariel used spells to burn the two bodies inside a ditch they had prepared earlier.

Sam looked at her for a second before smiling—an expression tinged with pain.

"When you serve under a guy who is paranoid of even his own shadow.. and has backup plans for even his backup plans.. you learn to mistrust everyone."

"Damian?" Sariel asked, amused.

Sam nodded.

Hopefully, the village chief wouldn't mind fewer guests than he had originally welcomed.

Sam had known they were a problem from the beginning, but he had hoped that—given their dire situation—they would abandon whatever reasons they had for their betrayal and work together.

Some people, however, simply couldn't see the bigger picture.

The Next Day.

The pigmen were confused for a while, searching for the two missing people, but no one made a fuss about finding them. Even the chief ignored their absence.

Now that they had time to think, Sam had Grace use her fancy spell—the one that created an air platform to raise a person high into the sky.

It was risky for her and the others, but Sam was a special second-ranker. Falling from that height wouldn't be an issue for him.

However, even after reaching 200–300 meters in the air, he could see nothing but endless snow-covered trees. In the middle of it all stood the massive stone shrine steps.

Snow-covered mountains loomed in the distance, but as far as his eyes could see—

There was no movement.

No monsters.

No people.

Not even pigmen.

Over the next few weeks, they made several scouting trips, hoping to find any other survivors or settlements. Each time, Grace's air-step spell allowed them to survey their surroundings.

But all they found were more endless forests and snow-covered mountains.

After their tenth expedition, where they traveled as far as possible in one direction without finding anything new, they gave up.

Meanwhile, the village was under constant siege from monsters.

Even though the chief fought valiantly, he couldn't fend them off alone.

Since the village had provided them with shelter in this lonely, desolate place, Sam and the others took on the responsibility of defending it.

And so, they fought.

Every time the monsters attacked, they stood alongside the pigmen—ensuring the village remained standing.