Screams echoed continuously, but fortunately, the stone-built castle had good soundproofing, making the noise barely audible in the bedroom.
After absorbing the knowledge of the two runes, Rhaegar was in a state of intoxicated delight, his breath slightly uneven.
This sensation of knowledge infusion was truly addictive.
After a moment, Rhaegar regained his composure.
"Bronze, Ouroboros!"
Muttering to himself, he sifted through the newfound knowledge in his mind.
The rune system differed from traditional magic.
His pyromancer talent was a type of magic—control over fire.
Runes, however, were more like specialized formulas that harnessed magical energy.
By using one's mind to inscribe runes with magic, they could manifest in various forms and possess different powers.
For example, the only two runes Rhaegar currently had.
The Ouroboros required not only the inscription of the rune but also the setting of a specific incantation or gesture, allowing the user to activate it at will.
The Bronze rune was a foundational rune, yet a rare defensive type.
It manifested as armor—each Bronze rune inscribed added another piece of armor.
As more Bronze runes accumulated, they would eventually form a complete set.
As long as even a sliver of magic remained, the Bronze armor would continue to protect the inscriber.
Realizing the immense power of runes, Rhaegar was astounded and overjoyed.
He propped himself up on his arms, attempting to sit up, but the wounds on his left arm and abdomen pulled at once, sending a sharp pain through his body and forcing him to lie back down obediently.
"I should at least try using a rune."
Unable to move freely, Rhaegar decided to put his time to good use.
Glancing at the sleeping Rhaenys, he smiled faintly before closing his eyes.
He was alive, and the ones he cared about were still by his side.
There was nothing more wonderful than that.
"Ouroboros!"
Focusing his mind, Rhaegar concentrated his energy, attempting to inscribe his first rune.
Rune inscription required a supply of magic.
Unlike the strict requirements of pyromancer talents—such as a pure Dragonlord bloodline or an affinity for fire elements—this process was more flexible.
Every Targaryen's blood carried a faint trace of magic.
As the family motto said: *"Blood and fire are one."*
After the dual reinforcement of Dream Sight and rune knowledge, Rhaegar's mental strength was formidable.
He smoothly gathered his focus, channeling his energy through his body's meridians.
**Buzz—**
A faint light flickered at his heart as his spiritual energy activated the magic within his blood.
Due to his strong lineage, the magic in his blood was exceptionally potent.
The light gradually expanded, forming an ink-black marking.
Rhaegar furrowed his brows slightly as strange whispers echoed in his ears.
He recalled the message about runes on his Explorer's Panel:
*"Every rune is a treasure of the world. Its birth draws great attention."*
Rhaegar scoffed, ignoring the eerie, wailing whispers and focusing intently on engraving the rune.
Time passed slowly.
Morning sunlight streamed through the stained glass window, illuminating the edge of the bed.
Hovering above Rhaegar's bandaged chest was a pitch-black rune, exuding dense, curling black smoke—an ominous serpent-like symbol.
The serpent was thin and twisted, lacking eyes, nose, fangs, or tongue.
It had only a disproportionately large, gaping black mouth.
This was the embryonic form of the Ouroboros rune.
Next, he needed to set an incantation or gesture to gain full control over the rune.
Rhaegar had to admit—his talent for rune inscription was exceptional.
Even an advanced rune was inscribed smoothly without a single mistake.
He continued shaping the rune, deciding to implement a dual safeguard—both a verbal incantation and a gesture.
This precaution came from his rune knowledge.
No one could predict when they might lose their tongue or fingers, so it was best to be prepared.
*"Reverse!"*
He softly uttered a word in High Valyrian, setting it as the first activation layer.
Suddenly, his face turned pale, and cold sweat beaded on his forehead.
He was running low on magical energy in his blood.
If he drew any more, he would have to burn his own blood to sustain it.
*"Sssss..."*
Just as he hesitated, ready to abandon the process, a deep, resonant dragon's roar echoed in his mind like the tolling of a great bell.
The next moment, a surge of wild fire magic flooded into his body.
Rhaegar immediately understood—it was the magic of *The Devourer*.
Dragons were magical creatures, their very existence brimming with fire magic.
This was the effect of *The Knight's Oath.*
The Devourer was his sworn guardian knight, and perhaps magic was also part of what they "shared."
**Buzz—**
---
A surge of powerful magic filled the air as the spell and hand gestures were successfully set in place, and the runes were swiftly engraved.
The rune of the monstrous serpent twisted slightly, its slender body forming a loop as its head bit down on its own tail.
A dark light blossomed, and wisps of black smoke spread throughout the room, dispersing the sunlight that had once filled the bedroom.
"Hmm~~"
Rhaenyra let out a soft hum, her eyelids fluttering as her limbs slowly stirred.
Rhaegar hesitated for a moment before stopping the flow of magic. The Ouroboros dissipated, and the bedroom returned to normal.
It was best to let this power lie dormant for a while.
"Rhaegar…"
Rhaenyra woke up, her hazy eyes slowly opening as she mumbled incoherently.
"And why are you calling me?"
Rhaegar took her small hand, which rested on his chest, and spoke with a teasing smile.
"Mm, you're awake?"
Rhaenyra's almond-shaped eyes widened in surprise as she instantly sobered up and sat up in bed.
The way her lips curved in astonishment was simply adorable.
"Rhaenyra, I'm starving."
Rhaegar pointed at the sun, already high in the sky, and spoke pitifully.
Yesterday, he had gone through an intense battle, nearly losing his life.
And just now, he had drained almost ninety percent of the magic from his blood. His body was already feeling the weakness creeping in.
"Wait right here! I'll go get something for you."
Rhaenyra hurriedly got out of bed, clumsily put on her boots, and dashed out of the room.
"Sigh, I still wanted to ask…"
She ran so fast that Rhaegar didn't even get a chance to ask about the situation in Rune Stone City.
Shaking his head with a helpless smile, he reached into his spatial bracelet and pulled out a whole loaf of bread, a plate of ham, and a jug of milk.
With an artifact like this, how could he not store food inside?
He had wanted to tease Rhaenyra a little more, but she had already vanished in a flash.
As he devoured the food like a storm sweeping through the land, Rhaegar let out a satisfied breath, feeling about halfway full.
"Let's test the Ouroboros' ability first."
Rhaegar stretched out his right hand, bringing his thumb and pinky together in a vow-like gesture.
As he supplied magic, a pitch-black Ouroboros rune emerged.
Aiming at the wound on his abdomen, the Ouroboros loosened its bite, writhing as it slithered into the injury.
Sizzle—
Visible wisps of black smoke rose from the wound.
However, this smoke wasn't caused by the Ouroboros but rather the impurities festering within the injury itself.
The Ouroboros opened its massive mouth, inhaling the black smoke strand by strand.
At first, he barely noticed a difference, but as the Ouroboros absorbed more and more of the black smoke, the pain from the wound significantly lessened.
After about five minutes, the Ouroboros' body had become bloated, and it finally closed its mouth.
Rhaegar glanced at his wound—the area covered in black smoke had shrunk from the size of a washbasin to the size of a plate, nearly half of it gone.
The Ouroboros, now looking like a fat mudfish, wriggled and slithered back into his hand.
Rhaegar understood that his mastery of the Ouroboros rune was still insufficient, allowing him to heal only this much at a time.
For further treatment, he would have to wait until the Ouroboros had finished digesting.
He silently calculated—by this time tomorrow, it should be ready again.
"Rhaegar, I'm back! You must be starving!"
Outside, Rhaenyra's hurried footsteps echoed, and with a creak, the bedroom door swung open.
(End of Chapter)