Crafting Class: Rune Lord

"Activate formation."

The words left Michael's lips with quiet finality. The air shimmered.

A pale blue light flared across the sparring ground, tracing glowing lines across the stone like veins coming alive. Circles. Symbols. Arcs. Hidden strokes that had been etched mid-battle.

The ground beneath the foot soldier lit up.

His body froze mid-step.

He couldn't move.

"W-What?!" the man stammered, eyes wide with confusion. "Impossible! This can't be—how can you activate a formation?! You're just a child! You don't even have mana yet!"

Gasps echoed around the courtyard.

The crowd rose from their seats. Nobles leaned forward. The servants along the walls stilled. Even the knights standing watch paused with furrowed brows.

"Trash" Strategy

Michael took a slow breath and stepped forward.

"You're right," he said. "I don't have mana. Not yet."

He dusted dirt off his sleeve, his tone calm and matter-of-fact.

"This isn't a spell I cast. It's a trap formation. One I copied from an old book buried in the estate's library."

He turned slightly toward the crowd.

"Most people call it trash. A joke. A tactic no sane person would ever use."

He let the words settle, then continued.

"Why? Because no warrior would ever step into a pre-drawn trap. You'd see it. You'd avoid it. These types of formations are considered obsolete, clumsy, and unusable."

The soldier's muscles trembled as he tried to move, but every twitch only made the lines glow brighter under his boots.

A Trap Triggered by Power

"The trick is," Michael said, stepping in closer, "this formation doesn't need my mana to activate."

He pointed at the soldier.

"It needed yours."

"What?" the soldier breathed.

Michael nodded.

"The formation activates when mana enters the area. I don't have any. But you do. I noticed it while we fought—your attacks were too strong, too fast. You were subtly reinforcing your strikes with mana. Probably to end the fight faster."

He shrugged.

"And I thank you. Because that was the fuel that set the trap."

A Roar from the Crowd

Gasps.

Whispers.

Then voices, rising in disbelief:

"He drew all that... while fighting?"
"He dragged his sword around to create that pattern?"
"Is this kid crazy—or brilliant?"
"That's not trash... that's genius!"

Even some of the estate's older knights exchanged tense glances.

The Soldier's Choice

"You're caught," Michael said. "This formation isn't complex. It just consumes mana. Slowly. Silently. And it turns your strength against you."

The soldier gritted his teeth, sweat beading on his forehead.