Return of the Legendary Runesmith - Chapter 389

Chapter 389: Chapter 388- Let me help you
As the door opened, what Adrian expected to be a cozy atmosphere instead revealed a long, dimly lit gallery stretching ahead.

The corridor was silent, shadows stretching across the wooden floor. Four maids stood along the walls, two on each side, their heads respectfully bowed.

“Did you need anything, Your Majesty?” one of them asked softly.

Raven didn’t answer immediately. She walked past them with a graceful yet cold composure before replying, “Just prepare dinner—and don’t disturb us.”

The maids silently dispersed, vanishing into the darkness.

Adrian blinked. Your Majesty?

“So…” he began carefully, “you’re the Queen?”

Her room earlier had carried an air of nobility, but he hadn’t imagined she was actually the head of a nation.

Raven gave a half-smile, her tone casual. “Yeah, something like that.”

They continued down the corridor until Adrian’s gaze caught the windows. The world outside looked… wrong. The sky was an endless veil of gray, the town below almost lifeless, its streets empty.

“Do you mind me asking,” he said, “why does it look so dark outside?”

Raven stopped near one of the tall windows, the faint reflection of her raven eyes caught in the glass.

“So you sensed it, huh?” she said softly. “The absence of joy in this world.”

Adrian followed her gaze. The clouds hung low, heavy like lead. No birds, no sun, no sign of wind—just a dull stillness.

“This world is cursed,” she murmured, “betrayed by the very beings we once trusted.”

Adrian’s brows furrowed. “What do you mean?”

Raven resumed walking, and he fell into step beside her.

“During the war,” she said, her voice echoing faintly down the empty hall, “many sided with Darkness. They didn’t want it destroyed. And most of those traitors came from this planet.”

Her tone sharpened with bitterness. “They were branded as heretics. But there were others—those who fought bravely against evil. Yet, when peace was restored, the Gods placed a curse upon this world… condemning it to eternal twilight.”

Adrian’s mind reeled. He’d never heard such a tale before. “So the gloom outside—it isn’t temporary?”

Raven shook her head. “No. The sun rises only once a year, if that. The soil is cold and the crops can’t grow. Famine has claimed millions.”

Adrian frowned deeply. “That sounds… unbearable.”

“It is,” she admitted. “The war already shattered us. But when the food began to vanish, our people followed. Now, only three nations remain with over a million souls still breathing.”

He felt a chill run through him. The quiet sorrow beneath her composed tone was impossible to ignore.

In the chat, she’d always sounded cheerful—teasing, confident, bright. But here, in this muted world of endless dusk, Adrian realized the truth.

Behind that warmth… was someone who had been living in grief all along.

Adrian was silent for a moment, letting her words sink in. Then, in a gentle voice, he asked, “Then… how are you managing things now?”

Raven’s steps slowed, and she exhaled a long, weary breath. “With the help of runes and magicians,” she said, “we’re able to grow crops—but it’s slow, and every batch yields very little. For now, we can feed the people, but sooner or later… it’s going to become a real problem.”

“Growing population?” Adrian guessed.

She nodded slightly. “That too. But lately, monsters have begun surfacing from beneath the ground. The remaining cults—few as they are—have been stirring chaos again. They destroy plantations, raid our supply lines, and vanish before we can respond. We’ve managed to keep control, but…” she trailed off, crossing her arms beneath her chest. “We lack both manpower and technology. Sometimes, even with all the runes and magic we have, we still fail.”

Adrian’s chest tightened. The exhaustion in her tone—subtle, restrained—was something he could feel rather than hear. “It must be tough on you,” he murmured.

For a brief moment, Raven’s expression softened. Then she smiled—a calm, practiced smile that carried the weight of someone who couldn’t afford to falter. “Well, don’t worry, dear,” she said, her voice light but fragile. “I won’t lose to these small troubles.”

Adrian smiled faintly in return. But deep down, he could sense the storm behind her mask—the loneliness, the fatigue, the weight of command she never let anyone see.

He knew what it felt like, even if on a smaller scale. The mere thought of managing his county already gave him headaches. Balancing the needs of a few thousand people was enough to drain him.

But Raven… she was responsible for an entire nation. A world dying in slow motion, people relying on her to fight both famine and monsters, and to keep the fragile remnants of civilization from collapsing.

Normally, people cultivated their own land, traded, and sustained themselves—while the government simply collected tax. Yet here, Raven was the farmer, the supplier, and the protector. Every loaf of bread, every surviving village, existed because she refused to crumble.

And standing beside her in that dim corridor, Adrian realized something he hadn’t before—this woman, wrapped in elegance and darkness, was carrying an entire world on her shoulders.

“Is there anything I can help you with?” Adrian asked softly, then paused, a thought striking him. “How about you show me the plantations? Maybe I can help upgrade your technology… or strengthen your defenses?”

Raven blinked, clearly taken aback. “But… didn’t you come here to learn about independent magic? I’ve already arranged the team for you.”

Adrian shook his head, his tone steady but gentle. “That can wait. I can manage without it for now. But your situation…” he glanced out the window toward the dim horizon, “feels far more urgent.”

Ever since unlocking his origin, his connection to mana had become sharper, steadier—almost alive. With the tools from Forgelet, his expanding knowledge, and the support of warriors like Aria and Ruby, he was confident he could handle whatever came his way.

But Raven… she was standing at the edge of a collapsing world. If he could ease even a small part of her burden, he wanted to.

Raven stared at him quietly, her midnight eyes studying his face as though she was seeing him for the first time. Then, her lips curved into a small, wistful smile.

“There are things that have changed about you,” she murmured.

Adrian tilted his head. “Hmm?”

She took a step closer, her presence warm despite the cold air between them. Her voice softened to a near whisper. “You… have become kind, Avirin.”

The way she said his old name lingered in the air—gentle, almost nostalgic. And for a fleeting second, Adrian saw in her eyes not the queen who ruled a dying world… but the woman who once believed in him.

Adrian sighed, “Well…shall we go?”

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A/N:- Thanks for reading.