Runebound Reverse Tower of The Dead-Chapter 99: Dealings With a Demon

[Heft Rune ᚻᛖᚠᛏᚾᛖᛋ] -Rare-

Kael could barely hold in his greed as he saw the rune.

It wasn’t even the shape alone, though that pentagonal cut and those etched strokes had that same wrong elegance all runes carried. It was what it promised.

Kael’s mind didn’t drift; it snapped straight to the problem that had been nagging him like a thorn since the Ifrit arena: his fireball looked scary, sounded scary, even felt scary... and still had the physical impact of hot air in a tantrum.

If this thing did what he hoped it did, if "Heft" meant weight, pressure, force, then the uselessness of his flame could be fixed in one clean stroke. A fireball that actually hit like something. A blast that didn’t just singe, but stopped people.

However, with the eyes of the imp on him, he couldn’t act the way he wanted, he couldn’t show his greed.

So he did what he’d learned to do in the tower: he caged his face. He kept his breathing steady. He didn’t lean forward. He didn’t let his pupils widen. He tried to look like a bored man glancing at a rock, when inside, his thoughts were already rearranging plans, fights, escapes, and the exact sound a weighted fireball would make when it met someone’s ribs.

He could feel Baltak watching him anyway, like the imp was less interested in the rune and more interested in what the rune did to Kael’s composure.

"That’s one core." The Imp said to the Snake member.

The words landed like a slap. One core. For a rune. A rare rune. Kael almost choked on the absurdity of it, and he wasn’t even the one being offered the price.

"Euh, just one, I mean it’s a rare rune..."

The Snake sounded genuinely offended, like he’d expected a negotiation where he could puff his chest and pretend he wasn’t desperate. His hand hovered in that indecisive way, half wanting to snatch it back, half terrified Baltak would change his mind.

"And who’s going to use that? Are you? The value of the rune itself depends on how many other climbers want it and how many are willing to purchase it. Take it or leave it."

Baltak’s smile didn’t widen. It sharpened.

The logic was brutal and annoyingly sound: a rune’s "rarity" didn’t matter if the floor was full of people too scared, too proud, or too ignorant to use runes at all.

Value in the tower wasn’t about labels. It was about hunger, and right now, the only one visibly hungry for it was Kael.

"Fine, fine," he said as he got the price for the rune and took it.

The Snake’s tone was resentful, but his fingers moved fast. He paid like a man trying to pretend he wasn’t being robbed while knowing he’d just robbed someone else.

"Yo, sell me that," Kael said.

He kept it casual. Too casual. Like it was an afterthought. Like he’d only spoken because he didn’t want the Snake to trip and lose it on the way out.

The imp looked at him and smiled, "You seem to be needing this."

"Need? No, study it, probably, how much?" Kael asked.

He made sure to push back on the word need. Need meant leverage. Need meant Baltak could inflate a price until it squealed. Kael refused to hand him that satisfaction.

"Ten cores." The imp said.

Kael didn’t blink, but something hot flickered behind his teeth. Ten cores was an insult dressed up as a number.

"Forget about it, I knew you were an opportunistic man, didn’t think you’d try to rob me blind."

He let the irritation show just enough to be believable, not enough to look desperate. The trick was to sound offended like a customer, not hungry like prey.

"I can see the gauntlet in your hand, an impressive item, with a rune socketed in it. So I say you need it." The Imp replied with a smug smile on his face.

The smugness wasn’t just in the smile. It was in the certainty. Baltak had already filed Kael into a neat mental category: rune-user. A niche customer. A rare one. The kind you could squeeze.

Kael felt his jaw tighten. Not because Baltak was wrong, but because Baltak was saying it out loud like a man reading your pockets while you’re still wearing the pants.

"And I know you can’t sell it to anyone else. So where does that leave us?" Kael said.

He leaned into the logic, flipped it, pressed it back into Baltak’s face. If Kael was the only buyer, then Baltak’s "need" argument cut both ways.

"Well, I can sell it on higher floors."

"Not for ten cores you’re not." Kael shrugged.

He made it a shrug on purpose, dismissive, easy. Like he didn’t care. Like he could walk away and it wouldn’t gnaw at him for the next ten minutes.

"You’re driving a hard bargain."

"A bargain is only when two people can negotiate a price, you’re chasing your customer away." Kael said.

Baltak’s eyes narrowed with something like amusement. Kael could almost hear the imp’s thoughts: this one bites back.

"Don’t be like that, Seven Cores."

Kael didn’t even let the number settle. He moved immediately, so Baltak couldn’t anchor him there.

"I don’t need it then, I’ll look for something else..."

He started to turn, just a little, enough to make the threat of leaving feel real.

"Five."

"Two, that’s double your gain," Kael said.

He said it cleanly, without apology. Two wasn’t random; it was a calculated insult in return. A reminder that Baltak’s "one core" purchase price was still sitting right there in the air like a stink.

"Tsk... Three cores, you can have it."

Kael placed three cores on the table, "I’m only paying this much because it would be a shame to leave you with something that not many would buy. Aren’t I a good client?" And grabbed the rune. 𝘧𝓇ℯ𝑒𝓌𝑒𝑏𝓃𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘭.𝒸ℴ𝓂

His fingers closed around it, and he felt that subtle chill runes always carried, like holding a promise that didn’t care if it burned you later.

He didn’t inspect it yet.

He didn’t give Baltak the satisfaction of seeing him light up.