Crafting Class: Rune Lord

From Threads to Steel, From Symbols to Power

The Quiet Room at the End of the Hall

Michael's new room was far more spacious than the servant's quarters he used to call home, yet he had left it nearly untouched. No lavish decoration, no golden curtains or expensive rugs—just a clean desk, a shelf full of books, and a single bed pushed neatly against the corner wall. The window opened to the western courtyard, where sunlight faded gently each afternoon—an ideal spot to study without interruption.

He didn't ask for luxury. He asked for silence.

With the Duke's surprising approval and the political shift his revelation had caused, Michael had been granted autonomy. Gold flowed into his account weekly. Access to the library—especially the restricted arcane archives—was granted. Retainers lined up at his door, eager to pledge loyalty, yet he dismissed them all.

He had no time to waste.

The first step was understanding the core of what he wanted to become—not just a mage, but a Rune Lord. A class that, according to ancient texts, merged combat, creation, and control. But to reach it, he needed skills. Not just knowledge. Skills.

The Thread and the Needle

"Sewing? Seriously?" grunted one of the knights walking past the open training hall.

Michael sat under the shade, legs crossed, holding a needle and torn cloth. He ignored the comment.

A book rested on his lap titled "Textile Arts of the Empire", and beside him, a system window hovered silently.

[Thread Manipulation Lv. 1 Acquired]
Understanding structure of fibers and material durability.

He had read that if he sewed 100 cloths, he'd likely level up the basic tailoring skill. It wasn't glamorous. But neither was forging steel or mixing ink.

He pricked his finger more times than he could count. Yet every stitch was deliberate. His past life's knowledge of fashion design offered some understanding, but the system demanded labor. Actual work. And it rewarded him.

[Basic Tailoring Lv. 1 Acquired]
Allows creation of simple cloth-based gear. Enhances durability when imbued with runes.

He rolled the finished patchwork over his forearm, marked it with mana ink, and whispered, "Resist."

The rune flared briefly. It held.

A child's warding rune... on cloth.

It was progress.

Hammer and Flame

The forge was hotter than he remembered. Even with protection spells circulating faintly in the corners of the workshop, the heat clung to him like armor.

Michael stood with sleeves rolled up, gripping a hammer, staring at a chunk of glowing iron. His strikes were weak at first, clumsy. But he didn't stop. The blacksmith—a retired dwarf who lived quietly in the estate—watched from a distance, arms crossed.

"You've got noble hands," the smith muttered. "They ain't made for metal."

Michael answered with another swing.

And another.

And another.

He remembered the book "Fundamentals of Empire Forging", which mentioned:

Strike the iron 500 times. Shape it. Breathe with it. Then, the system will acknowledge you.

[Basic Smithing Lv. 1 Acquired]
Allows crafting of basic iron weapons and components. Slight improvement in forging success.

The notification blinked just as his shoulders began to ache.

But it was worth it.

The real breakthrough came when he embedded a low-grade mana stone into a crude dagger he forged. He carved a rune into the hilt—"Lighten"—and the dagger became weightless in his palm.

A small success, but one that made his blood hum with purpose.

Books and Binding Circles

When he wasn't working his hands, he was in the archives.

Stacks of books surrounded him—formation theory, crafting rituals, historical mage engravings. Most nobles considered this kind of study beneath them. Magic, to them, was spells and staff swings.

But Michael wasn't building fireballs. He was building a foundation.

In one passage, he found a diagram of a sealing array used during the Eastern Demon Wars. He recreated it in chalk, layer by layer, correcting ancient inconsistencies using formulas from newer texts.

The moment he finished inscribing the last symbol, the system pulsed:

[Basic Formation Mastery Lv. 1 Acquired]
Grants the ability to create and deploy simple magical arrays. Efficiency improved by Intelligence and Wisdom.

Later that night, using the same formation, he created a binding circle on a practice dummy. When a passing knight hit the dummy with a wooden blade, it froze instantly.

The knight stared. "What... what did you do?"

Michael simply smiled. "Just something from a book."

The Rune on Flesh

The most dangerous experiment was something no tutor would ever teach: self-embedding runes.

He copied the method from an old scroll locked behind a sealed case in the forbidden archive.

He used animal blood, mana-ink, and burned the rune "Pulse" onto his wrist. It reacted violently—surging through his nervous system like lightning. He collapsed, gritting his teeth, trembling for what felt like an hour.

When the pain subsided... he felt it. His mana moved faster. His reflexes sharper.

[Rune Integration Lv. 1 Acquired]
Permits minor rune bindings to user's body. Caution: Excessive use may lead to physical degradation.

"I'll take the risk," he muttered.

Each rune written in pain now was one step closer to power.

Silent Progress

Weeks passed. Maids whispered about the youngest son forging steel in secret. Guards reported flickering lights from the underground archives. Even Renira's son tried to spy once—only to trip over a paralyze glyph drawn at the door.

The Duke, curious but silent, received reports weekly. He said nothing.

But he knew.

Michael wasn't wasting time. He was preparing.

Final Lines on the Wall

One night, under candlelight, Michael looked over his progress.

Tailoring, smithing, alchemy (barely touched), engraving, inscription, rune carving, array construction, woodwork, magic theory, mana flow control.

None of them were high level. But all of them were real. His class advancement window flickered once or twice now when he held mana threads and tools in tandem.

He stood in the middle of his chamber, holding a brush dripping with glowing blue ink.

On the wall, he drew a final formation: a passive ward that would detect hostility. A fusion of three books' worth of theory.

The brush danced. The lines glowed.

And the moment it completed, the air shifted.

He smiled.

[Intermediate Formation Theory Unlocked]