Return of the Runebound Professor-Chapter 641: Pattern

Nobody was keeping count, but Noah was growing increasingly certain that the monkeys of the Scorched Acres had finally paid for all the deaths they’d inflicted upon him in blood. His hands were stained red with blood and his clothes were splattered as if he’d taken a plunge into a pool of tomato juice.

His research attempts had left a swathe of destruction in his wake. The warped corpses of monkeys, from Slashers to Chuckers and everything in between, laid in desecrated heaps in his path.

Noah had only briefly paused his testing efforts to recover the energy in his rune before getting back to work. Each kill barely regenerated any power from Unstable Pandemonium, so he had to take frequent breaks to let it regenerate.

The huge grimoire on his back didn’t even bother harvesting the runes from the monsters he killed. They simply weren’t strong enough to be worthy of garnering the book’s interest. A part of Noah felt like that might have been a red flag. It hadn’t been all that long ago that his grimoire had jumped at the chance to get its hands — covers? — on any rune it could.

Now it had gotten picky.

That probably meant something ominous. But, if Noah was frank with himself, he didn’t care. The Grimoire was on his side. And, so long as he kept it fed, it would remain that way. He was well past caring if he unleashed some unspeakable monstrosity on the Arbalest Kingdom.

They’d let that cat out of the bag the moment the noble houses started sending their people after his students.

While his path through the forest had been devastating on the local population of face-ripping little shits, it had been remarkably informative for his understanding of Unstable Pandemonium.

The Rune definitely lived up to its name. The red lightning that it manifested rarely worked exactly the same way twice when he let its power run free, but the end result was often the same.

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It ripped apart anything it touched in a rather gruesome manner. Sometimes — and the cause of the blood splattering Noah’s clothes — it just straight up exploded its target, sending bits and pieces of them across everything in the immediate vicinity.

But Noah couldn’t quite shake the feeling that he wasn’t using the rune to its full potential. Sure, immense destructive power was always useful, but it wasn’t exactly what he’d been trying to make — and it wasn’t versatile.

His opponents weren’t always going to be weaker than him. And when the fights really mattered, they rarely were. Pure destructive force didn’t do much when up against an even more powerful defense.

And that was the bit he was stuck on. Nothing about Unstable Pandemonium implied that its purpose was to simply rip through everything in its path. Pandemonium implied something… more. Chaos, for lack of a better word.

Terrifying and destructive as blowing monkeys up like fireworks might have been, that wasn’t really Noah’s definition of pandemonium. It was just cruel.

I don’t care about cruel, but I’m completely confident that there’s more to this rune. What am I doing wrong? Is it something to do with how I’m manifesting the energy rather than pulling it from the environment?

Noah’s features creased in concentration. He lifted a hand and focused on his fingertips. Magic rushed through his body and a small spark lit between them, transforming into a flickering candleflame. The fire seemed to function just like normal fire. There was nothing special about it just because it had been made from pure magical energy. He flicked it away and shook his head.

Then manifesting the power isn’t the issue. It’s either my understanding of the Rune or the manner in which I’m using it. Maybe I need to try to find a way to make it fit in better with my understanding of the way the world works.

Music, perhaps?

Chaos certainly had quite a role there. Despite what many people thought, not all music had to be harmonious. An element of chaos could create unease. Tension. Conflicting notes and rapid changes in tempo could set listeners on edge.

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It could be used to express emotion and break conventional expectations — and that was just him going off the top of his head. Music was a world that held room for everything. Both the expected and the unexpected.

“But how does Chaos work when I toss magic into the picture? The world is made up of patterns.” Noah chewed his lower lip in thought as he strode through the Scorched Acres, his arms crossed behind his back. Blackened sticks cracked beneath his feet and ash sifted past his powerful steps. He barely even noticed.

There can be patterns found in chaos. I can’t just say that chaos is the lack of a pattern because the complete lack of a pattern would be a pattern in itself. But if that’s the case, how does one harness such a thing?

“What of the inverse?” Noah mused, coming to an abrupt halt. “Master Runes are connected. There could be something there. They’re ill understood. Perhaps that’s my key? The relation between the true and its opposite? But how would harmony make any difference? That’s just as broad of a concept as chaos. Every single one of my runes would technically be viewable under the guise of harmony if I squinted hard enough.”

Noah started walking again, his lips thinning in mild irriation. He kicked a stray stick out of the way and paused to watch it spin through the air and shatter to dust against the tree. ʀ₳𐌽∅ᛒΕ𝘴

That didn’t give him any inspiration. Sometimes, it was just fun to watch things break.

A prickle pressed against Noah’s domain as a Slasher stepped into view, squeezing between two trees. He nearly let out a dissapointed sigh. Despite the number of dead monsters he’d left in his wake, despite the blood of their comrades soaking his hands and splattered across his clothes, the idiot monsters never stopped trying their luck against him.

“You there,” Noah said, pointing at the monkey. “I have a question for you. What would you say chaos is?”

The Slasher’s beady, black eyes bore into Noah like glistening obsidians. It let out a roar of challenge and charged him.

Noah stepped to the side and let the monster’s claws carve through the air beside him, coming inches away from their mark and never having had even the slightest chance of connecting with it.

The large claws dug deep furrows into the brittle ground. Screeching in fury, the Slasher swept a hand at Noah once more. He avoided the attack easily. Between his experience and the Rune of Self empowering his reflexes to those of a demon, dodging blows like this was child’s play.

“Is chaos the lack of order? The lack of something? Or is it a concept in itself?” Noah queried, stepping by another blow and tapping a finger against his chin. “Perhaps it is simply destruction. Would you say that?”

The Slasher screeched and swept its hands at Noah again. And again, he easily avoided the attack. Its deadly claws weren’t even enough of a threat for him to pause in his line of questioning.

Noah blurred forward, slipping right under the Slasher’s arms to stand behind it.

“We’ll have to work backwards,” Noah said with a thoughtful nod. “I understand the concept of harmony more than chaos. Harmony is what all things are made of. Well, that’s my theory, but you’ll have to bear with me.”

The Slasher spun toward the sound of his voice. It lunged, but Noah was no longer standing where its claws carved.

For some strange reason, Noah’s thoughts actually felt like they were flowing better now. It was a common saying back on Earth that the best way to learn something was to teach it. He’d never truly considered just how true that was, but it seemed the thought had some merit.

“Harmony is in all patterns. I’ve definitely said that bit, but I’ll reiterate it for you,” Noah informed his unruly student. “Chaos exists as a pattern. For the purposes of this lesson, we can assume that it is the opposite of harmony. And that is what gives rise to our question. If harmony is used to create every pattern, and chaos is the opposite of harmony, then what pattern is chaos?”

The Slasher let out a furious screech. It raised its hands high over its head and took a step forward in an attempt to make sure that its next attack didn’t miss its insolent prey.

Noah’s eyes went wide.

“That’s it,” Noah breathed.

The Slasher’s hands carved down.

Noah’s own hand rose.

A strand of red light wove across his fingers. It leapt free, jerking and zipping through the air haphazardly before striking the Slasher square in the chest.

Brilliant streaks of red carved across the Slasher’s fur, lighting it up from within like a horribly displeased Christmas ornament.

And then the monster collapsed.

Not to the ground, but to pieces. Magic swirled up from its body as every single part of it split apart. The hair separated from the skin, the bones from the flesh, claws from its hands… and the body from the soul.

And not just that — every single part of it was separated down to the components. Even though the parts of the monster splattered to the ground in an indiscernible pool of guts and bodily fluid, Noah could feel every separation that had happened to the monster as if he’d cut it apart with a scalpel.

Every single thing that had made the Slasher up had been undone.

“That’s the pattern,” Noah breathed, his hand lowering as he looked upon what he had wrought. “Chaos isn’t the inverse. Harmony is. Harmony pulls things together that were originally separate. Chaos takes things apart until they’ve returned to their true, natural state. It isn’t meant to destroy. It’s meant to unmake.”