"Rune technology" was a peculiar craft of inscription, utterly different from the enchantment techniques used by humans today.
Among the dwarves living in the Azerlisia Mountains, only a handful still knew this art. It was close to being forgotten altogether.
Lyle paid special attention because this technique had no counterpart in YGGDRASIL.
Yes, runes existed in the game, but they were nothing more than decorative carvings. They were like wallpaper on a sword, pretty to look at, but useless in combat. In this world, however, runes carried genuine power.
And genuine power was something Lyle had learned never to ignore.
To oppose Ainz and his Guardians, sheer strength alone was not enough. He would need methods native to this world, things the game never offered. Rune technology was one of the avenues worth exploring.
For example, YGGDRASIL had plenty of skills and abilities that could directly nullify or destroy enchanted gear. But what if one crafted equipment using rune technology? Could it bypass or resist those anti-enchantment abilities?
It was only a possibility, but victories were built upon possibilities.
Lyle's gaze shifted from the armor in his hands to Yaral's bright silver eyes. The girl quickly lowered her head, nervously twisting her fingers.
"These two magic items… I don't need them. You should use them yourselves," Lyle said casually, briefly explaining their effects.
"Lord Hero—ah, I mean, Lord Lyle… are you a traveler?" Chief Dielon asked softly, his tone filled with curiosity and caution.
Like his daughter, he had wondered about this stranger who had appeared beyond the Valley of Despair. But his concern was not idle curiosity; what mattered most to him was the safety of his people. He had no great talent, no ambitions beyond keeping his clan alive and sheltered. If it had been his father in his place, no doubt the old man would have been far more eager to explore the mysteries of the outside world.
"Yes. For reasons unknown, I was suddenly brought into your region," Lyle replied with a small nod.
So it was true.
Dielon wasn't surprised. There were no other humans in this valley, and someone as powerful as Lyle could only have come from beyond its borders. Naturally, such a man would not remain here forever. The Valley of Despair was far too small to contain someone of heroic caliber.
"Um…"
Dielon's scarred face flushed faintly. The fifty-something chief suddenly looked strangely awkward, like a boy about to confess his first crush.
"Father?" Yaral tilted her head, her silver eyes full of confusion. "What's wrong? Why are you acting like this?"
Interrupted by his daughter, Dielon stiffened, then hurriedly covered up his hesitation. "N-nothing. I was only thinking about… matters concerning the gray dwarves." His tone betrayed a flicker of panic.
"Really?" Yaral studied him curiously. She could hardly believe her father, normally so steady, could look so… bashful.
"How many of your warriors are still able to fight?" Lyle asked, cutting through the awkwardness. He had noticed Dielon's hesitation but chose not to pry.
"Three hundred can fight immediately. Thanks to the potions you gave us, the recovery has been remarkable. In another day or two—" Yaral's voice grew animated as she answered. "—another five hundred will be fit for battle. If you need more, we can gather fifteen hundred in total."
Dielon nodded faintly at his daughter's words before adding, "And with the weapons seized from the gray dwarves, our shortages are less critical. That allows us to arm another five hundred. So… in total, we can muster two thousand."
"Two thousand?"
Lyle's eyelids twitched. The entire human settlement numbered just over three thousand, and these two were calmly offering him nearly every able-bodied fighter they had.
It was absolute trust.
In YGGDRASIL terms, it was like maxing out a faction's reputation bar until it glowed.
"Then we'll wait another two days," Lyle said firmly. His expression grew sharp. "After that, we march on the gray dwarves' oasis and finish them once and for all. I don't like leaving threats behind."
"What?"
Dielon's eyes went wide. Yaral's mouth fell open in shock, though no sound escaped her lips.
To annihilate the entire gray dwarf tribe… neither of them had ever dared to imagine such a thing. With their small numbers, the thought had always been absurd. Yet here was Lyle, stating it as casually as if he had just suggested trimming a hedge.
And still, neither father nor daughter doubted him.
Lyle's plan was not to throw two thousand humans into a head-on battle with fifteen thousand gray dwarves. Their role was to prevent any escape. He would handle the real fighting.
Night fell.
At the heart of the human oasis, near the water source, stood a simple wooden house. It was said to have belonged to Yaral's grandfather, the man who had once reached the heroic realm. Curious, Lyle had inspected it briefly before dismissing it. The old dwarf's strength came from talent and perhaps some inborn gift, not from any hidden artifact.
Inside, the room was quiet.
"Arroo." The hound shifted from its hawk form back into its usual monstrous shape, stretching like a lazy cat.
Lyle sat cross-legged nearby, eyes half-shut as he focused on his status screen.
[Overall Level: 37]
Mad Archmage: 1
Experience: 782,262 / 120,000
"It's time." He exhaled slowly. The accumulated experience was more than enough for several level-ups.
"Level up."
[Overall Level: 38]
Mad Archmage: 2
Experience: 662,262 / 140,000
Power surged through his body, strengthening his life force and sharpening his senses. Even the flow of magic in the air felt clearer.
"Level up."
[Overall Level: 39]
Mad Archmage: 3
Experience: 522,262 / 160,000
"Level up."
[Overall Level: 40]
Mad Archmage: 4
Experience: 362,262 / 210,000
His black combat attire rippled as waves of magical energy radiated from him.
But then he noticed something odd. Normally, each new level increased the required experience by twenty thousand. Yet upon hitting level forty, the requirement had suddenly jumped by fifty thousand.
"…Strange." His eyes narrowed.
Thinking back, he realized it wasn't random. Every ten levels, the growth curve spiked. A silent milestone system.
"Level up."
[Overall Level: 41]
Mad Archmage: 5
Experience: 152,262 / 260,000
With a rush of energy, his aura burst outward, rattling the wooden walls. The hound cowered in the corner. It had seen this before, but never this intense. The pressure rolling off its master was that of a higher lifeform, impossible to resist.
"At last… level forty-one. Just two more, and I'll step into the realm of Parahumans." Lyle flexed his hands, marveling at the vitality, magic, and sheer presence flooding his being.
The problem was, his aura was becoming hard to conceal. At lower levels, no one noticed. Now, even a casual observer could sense it. He needed a way to mask himself.
He remembered how Ainz used spells like False Data: Life and False Data: Mana to cloak his power. Lyle would need something similar. Because once he surpassed the Parahuman tier, suspicion was inevitable. Humans in this world simply were not supposed to grow that strong.
And when he eventually dealt with the Slane Theocracy, caution would be vital. Their priests were nosy enough without him radiating power like a beacon.