The moon shone brightly, forever watching over the Kingdom of Murate. Large plateaus stood against the sky like ancient stone pillars. Looking off the top of one, a fantastical sight would be seen; an endless sea of clouds sheltering the ground from a silver moon. Many plateaus of varying heights besmirched the white blanket like mossy rocks set within a slow, but ever-flowing river. Only someone with a fear of heights would be unable to appreciate the tranquility of such a landscape.

Atop the tall Greyson plateau, within a stately manor situated besides the very edge, Monty sat behind a large desk. Diagrams of human, animal, and plant anatomy as well as various logistical reports were piled on his desk in a mountainous fashion. Yet despite the substantial amount of work ahead of him, Monty remained unperturbed.

Although he wasn’t the lord of the House, a large portion of paperwork fell to him to complete. He was the last living descendant of the Thorne lineage, pushing the work to Mira or other servants was impossible. His position would weaken, and there was no doubt his uncle would capitalize on the opportunity.

Hours later, Monty stretched out his arms. He flexed his numb hands before rustily getting up from his desk. The work was finally completed. Such a troublesome waste of time, he could have been doing so much more.

Monty rubbed his eyes as he walked past the grandiose bookshelves that lined his study walls. A diverse collection composed primarily of medical, engineering, and chemistry textbooks, but also included all subjects ranging from magic to mathematics. Monty passed these books however, and made his way to the entrance of the room. He already knew their contents very well.

Arriving at the door leading out of his study, Monty didn’t open it, but rather walked to the right along the room’s wall. He shortly arrived at a bookshelf, one not different from any other, and pulled on a book titled “A Thief’s Guide to Finding Hidden Rooms.” A small click was heard, and the bookshelf spun 90 degrees, exposing a spiral staircase leading down into darkness. Monty didn’t hesitate to enter, and the bookshelf quietly closed after him, leaving no trace of any disturbance.

The soft ringing of Monty’s shoes on metal stairs echoed out in the narrow stairway. Dim lightbulbs hung loosely from the stone brick walls, illuminating the area just enough for Monty to see where he placed his feet. He walked down for a couple minutes before coming to a standstill in front of a thick, iron-bound door. By now, the air had noticeably cooled, obtaining the damp qualities one would expect in a cavern.

The door grinded open as Monty pushed it. Putrid, stale air rushed into his face, filling his lungs with the scent of metal and decay. Monty wasn’t bothered, and simply snorted before entering the pitch-black hallway. Unlike the spiral staircase he entered earlier, no lights could be found anywhere. Grabbing the rope to his left, Monty took a step forward. The “ground” swayed beneath him, causing him to pause and catch his balance. Once the dilapidated bridge stopped swinging, Monty continued walking, his steps measured as he made his way through the darkness.

The bridge creaked one final time as Monty stepped off onto a stone platform. Not looking back, he unlocked another reinforced door and securely closed it once he entered the guard’s room. A hideous middle-aged man sat slumped over a messy desk. The man’s hunchback rose over his disfigured face; a split lip and obtuse forehead prominently displayed themselves in a twisted fashion. Hearing Monty’s steps, the man looked up blithely before shakingly standing and greeting Monty. Unlike the cultured servants up above, the man didn’t appear to show any form of deference towards Monty.

“Evening m’lord,” the misshapen man uttered with a noticeable lisp, "The new subjects you ordered have been strapped down in your laboratory, everything else is as you left it yesterday.”

“I see,” Monty simply stated. No excess words were necessary, nor did Monty feel the need to prolong a conversation with such scum. He was a noble, after all. Those who survived within the plateau simply existed for those who lived atop it. Such was the way of a world with magic, where the rule of the strong prevailed, where an individual could suppress a group. Monty was well aware of the lackluster result of his talent test, but “talent” was comprised of many factors, not just mana capacity.

It was impossible to calculate it just by testing a single trait. Physical abilities, intelligence, wisdom, comprehension, attitude, and a multitude of other characteristics all combined within a person determined said person's talent. Evaluating and assigning a person a role based on their test results was the epitome of foolishness. Monty was many things, but he wasn’t a fool. To meticulously use the resources at his disposal, pragmatically and ruthlessly, that was, indisputably, truly smart! Monty smiled to himself before leaving, unaware of the dark look in the hideous man’s eyes.

With the appearance of white lights and ventilation, the once damp air lost its murky properties. Copper piping lined the polished grey walls, transporting various liquids throughout the laboratory. A few guards monotonously paced the halls, and even fewer researchers scurried about, wearing white coats and carrying stacks of papers. It was hard to believe that such a desolate environment could house one of the most advanced magical research organizations within the kingdom.

The study of the relationship between humans and runes, this was Monty Thorne’s specialty. Although he was highly proficient in medicine, as it was the family business, he himself never invested much time into it. Monty had never considered being a doctor, acts of selflessness and the preservation of life were things he looked down on. A person’s inability was their own fault, it was only right that humans serve themselves.

Not long later, Monty arrived at a door labeled “Lab #4”. Undoing a silver skeleton key from the keychain around his neck, he placed it in the door’s keyhole. Turning the key, Monty felt the internal mechanism spin. Metal gears ground in tandem until the lock was undone. With the release of an unnoticeable click, he pulled the door handle, opening the door to his lab.

Monty flipped a switch, turning on the large, industrial lights hung from the elevated ceiling. Sweeping his eyes around, it seemed that everything was as he left it. Vials of bubbling acids, fluorescent flowers in miniature greenhouses, and an array of sharp tools were chaotically organized all around the room. However, all of these materials were overshadowed by what lay in the very center of the lab.

Two cold, steel tables that rose just above Monty’s waist. On those tables lay two unconscious bodies, their chests rising and falling evenly, unaware of their perilous situation. To Monty’s left lay a young boy, his choppy brown hair messy from the Institution’s transportation. Monty couldn’t help but click his tongue at this, he hoped they hadn’t obtained any internal injuries.

To Monty’s right lay a middle-aged woman. Her face and especially hair were quite similar to the boy. Both were undressed. At a glance, Monty could already see that the pair’s mana capacity was rather high, just as he’d requested. Finding and buying a mother and son that met his requirements cost quite a bit, hurting Monty’s personal savings as he couldn’t use the House’s funds for a reason such as this.

Walking up to the pair, Monty picked up a paper folder from a smaller, nearby table. He opened it and began reading the sheets displaying the collected information about the pair.

Durk Rott (M, 15) and Emma Rott (F, 39). Once members of the House of Rott, they were ostracized and forced lower into the Greyson Plateau after the House’s demise. Both have a tested mana capacity of 7, it is, however, highly likely that Durk Rott’s is higher as he hasn’t awakened.

The papers also covered various details such as height and weight, as well as the duration and type of anesthesia the two were under. Monty sighed in admiration, if he were able to obtain such valuable subjects on a monthly basis, his research would advance by leaps and bounds. The Greyson Research Institution certainly lived up to its prestigious reputation.

“The Rott family, that’s a name I haven’t heard in a while,” Monty thought to himself. They were just a small, combat-orientated family, yet righteous to the core. Seeing injustice, they stuck their noses where they didn’t belong and paid the ultimate price. Just like that, another House was eliminated from the Greyson plateau. Monty shook his head while chuckling to himself, contempt filling his eyes as he observed the unconscious pair.

In the end, look where their justice got them. Only two left in the entire family, it was a tragedy. Monty sighed as he placed down the folder. He then walked past the pair and opened a grey cabinet. In it were various lab coats and gloves, along with other miscellaneous articles of clothing. Monty picked a random coat and draped it over himself. The coat hung down to his knees, leaving no skin exposed besides his hands and face. An indiscernibly cold aura seemed to pervade the room as Monty finished buttoning the stainless, white coat. He seemed to have transformed into a different person; from his uncaring, nonchalant demeanor to the somberness of an expedient researcher with decades of experience. If anyone were observing this odd occurrence, they would be startled by the change. It almost appeared as if he had two personalities.

Monty turned his attention to the female of the pair. Taking out a case of sharp scalpels, he flipped the woman onto her back, unaffected by her nudity and beauty. Monty then took a scalpel from the case and fluidly traced it down her spine. A crimson line followed his steady hand, exposing the woman’s flawless white vertebrae and twitching red muscle. Not missing a beat, Monty quickly made two more horizontal incisions at the beginning and at the end of his first cut. Blood ran like water, flowing off the table and pooling on the clean floor.

The woman’s inner back was now exposed, the two rectangular skin flaps acting like double doors. The striking stench of blood had soaked the stale air. Monty calmly stared at the two glowing runes tattooed along the woman’s vertebrae. They were arranged vertically, with the first being located just above her waist, and the second at the bottom of her thoracic spine.

“Her first rune seems to be just a common rune, probably fire type. As for the second … I’m not sure,” Monty mumbled to himself, quite surprised. It had been a long time since he came across a rune he didn’t recognize. He smiled, an unholy fervor lighting up his inky eyes.

Monty could immediately identify the woman’s first rune due to its basic flame-like pattern. The second, however, took the shape of a peculiar tree. A pink trunk and branches holding up a cluster of vividly red leaves, Monty would have assumed it was a plant-related ability if the woman didn’t have a fire rune. A mage’s second rune is always related to their first, their third being related to their second. When a mage reached the maximum of three runes, it was called a “set”. Most mages never had a chance to complete their set, as even getting a second rune would take many years. Take Emma Rott, for example. She didn’t have a third rune even in her late 30s.

This was due to the nature of magic. A person would form their first rune during their “Awakening”, a natural process that usually occurred around the age of 16. The rune obtained during an awakening was not random, factors such as physique, intelligence, and lineage dictated its category and strength. Subsequent runes possessed less, but more specialized abilities.

Monty turned to his mayo stand and picked up a clear syringe filled with coagulant. Double-checking the amount of clear liquid within, he injected it into the unconscious woman, causing the spewing blood to slow before completely ceasing. He then placed his hand on the woman’s back, slowly pouring mana into the woman.

"That should do it for now," Monty smiled to himself. It was always good to take precautions.

He then made sure there were no problems with the woman. Monty nodded to himself before placing down the syringe and washing the blood from his hands. Scrubbing thoroughly, he watched as the red water spiraled into the sink, carried through the web of plumbing to the bottom of the plateau.

Monty frowned as he thought about the tree-shaped rune on the woman’s back. It seemed he would have to pay a visit to the Institute’s library. The fee was painful, but hopefully he could find the information by the end of the day. Monty looked to the clock hanging on the wall. It was almost midnight.

After rubbing his eyes, Monty took off his lab coat and spared one final glance at the sleeping pair. He wasn’t worried about them as the anesthesia would last two full days and no one could enter the lab without his permission. Exiting the room, Monty looked around; the hallway was empty. The lights had been dimmed, causing an eerie atmosphere to envelop the facility.

Monty’s footsteps echoed as he briskly walked to the library. It certainly was convenient that most important facilities were on the same floor as his lab. He soon arrived at the library's door and told the lone guard to put the fee on his tab. Monty truly was broke. Entering the massive room, tens of bookshelves holding thousands of books were positioned around the walls. Tables of research papers filled up the center, creating a cramped feeling.

It didn’t take Monty long to find the magic section and sequentially a book that covered tree-shaped runes. Opening the sizeable book to its index, he discovered that the rune was in the rare section. Monty wasn’t surprised, as any rune he didn’t recognize isn’t common or unusual. There was no chance of the woman having a higher-tier rune.

Monty flipped to the stated page.

Flesh Tree Rune (R) – An uncommon rune even among rare runes, little is known about it. Confirmed passive abilities include regeneration, increased physical strength, and a higher metabolism. There are no known active abilities.

“Tsk” Monty scoffed. Turns out it was nothing special, just some physique enhancement. Though he could sell the information he obtained through testing and make back some of the money he spent. It would be a waste not to fully find out the capabilities of such a rare rune. Monty left the library, taking back the same path to his lab.

Now out of his lab coat, he felt a stunning wave of exhaustion hit him. Monty quickly washed his face by the sink, somewhat wiping away the weariness. He flipped the switch to the light, submerging the bloody room in darkness. The door to Lab #4 clicked softly as Monty locked it for the night.

Through the hallways, past the guard’s room, over the bridge, up the stairs and into his study. Monty yawned, internally complaining about the long journey as he changed into his silken nightwear. He turned the lamp off and pulled up the covers of his bed, peacefully falling asleep.

* * *

In a cold laboratory, two metal tables stood within its center. Atop one of those tables rested a nude middle-aged woman. Her brown hair was messy and alluring face pale from blood loss. Beneath the table lay a pool of now-dried blood. The woman, who appeared unconscious, trembled as if she were struggling against her own body, before slowly opening her eyes. She licked her dry lips before smiling to herself in the darkness. Her chance of escape had finally arrived.