The Runic Alchemist

Chapter 155: All The Time in The World

Damian was deeply depressed, doubly so now. Had he lost his new world in search of the old one? That would be the greatest irony of his life—the man who got two chances at life and botched both on the same planet.

His eyes fell on the orb in his hand, and he raised it in front of Vidalia, who was also sulking on the side.

"Do that status thing," Damian said.

"What do you hope to—"

"Just do it," he interrupted.

She shot him a look but cast the spell anyway. Soon, the relic's info screen appeared, and Damian focused on the part he cared about the most.

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Attributes:

Mana Capacity: 4000/200000 (Rechargeable)

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"It's faster," Damian breathed in relief, though the exact rate of time difference was still a mystery to him.

"What?" Vidalia asked.

"It absorbs mana faster here. At this rate, it'll take about eight hours. But if you also use your mana periodically, we might double the efficiency and recharge it in maybe a couple of hours," he said, looking at Vidalia hopefully. She seemed relieved for a moment before her expression darkened again.

"It still has a 24-hour limit," she reminded him.

"Well, let's hope that means 24 hours in your world and not mine. We should still try," Damian replied.

Vidalia nodded, more confident this time. At least they had a plan and a little hope, which was all humanity ever needed to get through. Damian had sensed earlier that mana was abundant here, but he'd assumed it was because his senses needed time to adjust after traveling through the waygate. However, he had sensed it correctly—there was far more mana here than in the world he had just left.

How was that possible? Why had Earth never discovered this mysterious energy source? Surely, on such a large planet, some being, some species—if not humans—would have sensed mana in the atmosphere or developed organs for it. What did this strange world have that Earth didn't?

A random memory surfaced in Damian's mind, a sentence he'd read recently:

'Rejoice, the God of Metal Golems has reawakened, gaining a new follower.'

Gods?

Because they had gods..? Growing up in a church, Damian had always wondered if any of it could be true. Who was he to deny it? Scientifically, it didn't make sense, but science was a human invention, and humans were deeply flawed. He never fully believed in the divine, but he believed in Sister Hadley's faith. The world might have abandoned him, but in her, he had found a loving mother figure.

The beliefs of a woman like that couldn't be wrong. He didn't believe in religious texts or arguments, only in Sister Hadley's beliefs. That was all he ever needed.

But now, here in this new world, there was living proof of some higher beings—whether gods or something that had just titles of gods—hidden from normal eyes, existing in secret, or perhaps forbidden from revealing themselves. But they existed. The status screen proved it, if it could also be believed.

"Do you want to see more? Maybe there's...," Vidalia began but trailed off. Damian understood what she meant. Maybe there was someone still alive.

"Well, standing around, waiting here won't accomplish anything," Damian said, still perplexed as to why the waygate had successfully brought him here if Sister Hadley wasn't here.

"If you would be so kind," he added smiling at her.

Vidalia nodded and cast her flying spell, lifting them higher to get a better vantage point. The mana abundance here meant the spell would not drain her mana as much. Damian hoped to recognize something—buildings, monuments, anything familiar. But after flying for half an hour at high speed of maybe 70-90 km/h, there was nothing.

No structures, no signs of civilization, just patches of greenery amid endless fields of black, moist dirt.

No buildings. No signs that humans had ever lived here. Vidalia suggested they stop, complaining flying wasn't much but they could still use the miniscule mana to return faster. But Damian, unwilling to give up, pulled out 5 parchments sewn together—runic rolls with the same flying spell Vidalia used. He activated one and handed authority control over to her.

Vidalia shot him a look that could kill, clearly unimpressed by his silent stealing. Or maybe just plain shocked that he could do it at all.

Though Damian could create the spell, he couldn't control the flight well enough, she on the other hand had experience. His mana pool wasn't large enough for the fine adjustments required to stay in the air. That was something for another time when he had more mana to spare.

So they continued flying for another hour, and finally, Damian saw something other than barren land. A waterfall. A river cascaded into a crack in the black earth below. It was something at least so he wanted to check it out, Damian gestured for Vidalia to fly towards it.

'What happened here? Why is it so empty? Where is everyone?' Vidalia asked, her voice full of genuine confusion.

'A world-ending catastrophe, I guess,' Damian replied.

'What kind of natural disaster could leave the land so barren and lifeless?' she wondered.

'Not natural. Only we had the capability to destroy ourselves so thoroughly.'

'A human weapon that could end worlds? And you said your people had no mana? How is that even possible?'

Damian didn't answer though. They landed near the crevice where the river plunged into the earth. He walked toward the edge. It had to be a nuclear war. Even back in university, he always heard about countries on the brink of war for the most ridiculous of reasons. If this was years into the future, perhaps they finally had that war—a war that destroyed everything.

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But still, something didn't add up.

Damian peered over the edge of the crevice, and finally, he understood just how far into Earth's future he was. The sides of the crevice weren't made of rock or natural land. Instead, they were layers of the same cursed black dirt, burying even the tallest buildings of human cities beneath it.

It wasn't that he hadn't found remnants of civilization—it was that he couldn't see it because he was standing on top of it. Centuries of sedimentation had buried everything.

"At least a thousand years... I'm at least a thousand years into the future from the world I knew," Damian muttered, feeling a flood of unfamiliar emotions wash over him.