Damian stared at the heavy metal sphere in his hand. It was adamantite!
As a runesmith, he had, of course, heard about this metal and the rumors surrounding high-level dungeon relics forged from it. Setting aside the golem's sentience, just possessing this much adamantite was a priceless reward.
But it was already covered in dense runes, all inscribed in a strange language. He guessed he wouldn't be able to repurpose the metal. Creating a golem with it was the best use—provided the consciousness stored inside obeyed him. It should, probably. Otherwise, what kind of reward would attack its own owner?
