Utopian System

Exhausted and wounded, but with a triumphant smile on his face, Elio collapsed to the ground. His friends rushed to his side.

Kairos stared at the fissure in his armor, his expression shifting from shock to grudging respect. "Well done, soldier," he said, his voice a blend of disappointment and admiration. "It seems your technique has more potential than I thought."

The air turned frigid in an instant.

Lucien, his face a mask of barely contained fury, extended his hand towards Kairos. A sphere of ice, brilliant and deadly, materialized before him.

The temperature dropped so rapidly that frost began to form on the nearby training equipment.

"Lucien! What do you think you're doing?" Kairos exclaimed, instinctively backing away, his earlier bravado evaporating.

But his words fell on deaf ears.

With a fluid motion, Lucien launched the ice sphere and then another towards the sky. Kairos barely had time to raise his arms in a defensive gesture before the projectile struck him with brutal force.

The effect was devastating.

Kairos's magical armor, designed to withstand 10 points of damage, was instantly depleted under the icy assault. The young Summoner was thrown backward, landing heavily on the ground with a grunt of pain that echoed in the sudden silence.

Before Kairos could recover, another ice sphere descended from the sky, striking him with relentless precision and knocking the wind out of his lungs. The ground beneath him froze, temporarily trapping him.

Lucien advanced, his frog croaking ominously on his shoulder. When he spoke, his voice was laden with a cold fury that made even Kairos's salamander cower, shrink and attempt to hide in its master's robes.

"Fourteen points of damage, Kairos," Lucien said, his tone deceptively soft. "You have 19 left out of your base 40. If it hits you directly, you'll be in serious trouble. Isn't that something like what you said to Elio? Right Micah?"

Kairos, still dazed from the impacts, looked at Lucien with fear and confusion. "Lucien, this... this was just a friendly duel. I didn't mean to…"

"Friendly?" Lucien interrupted, his voice rising. The air around him shimmered with cold, his breath visible in the chilled air. "You almost killed one of my soldiers. You call that friendly? Is this how our family treats those under their protection?"

As he spoke, another ice sphere began to form in his hand, growing slowly and emitting an intense cold that made everyone present step back involuntarily.

"Wait, Lucien," Raelar intervened, his imposing but friendly presence momentarily calming the tension.

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He stepped between Lucien and Kairos, his own frog fearfully eyeing the situation. "Your boy accepted the challenge. It wouldn't be wise to further reduce the strength of our families, much less one of the only nine Summoners we have. Think of the bigger picture."

Lucien paused, the ice sphere still floating menacingly above his palm. His eyes, cold as the power he controlled, bored into Raelar.

"Are you defending this... this farce of a duel, Raelar?" Lucien asked, his voice barely a whisper.

Raelar shook his head, his expression grave. "I'm not defending Kairos's actions. But we must think of the city's needs. Our defenses can't afford to lose any Summoner, no matter how... misguided their actions. Consider your strategy and what you'll lose with the council.

Let it go this time, for the greater good."

For a long moment, no one moved. The air seemed charged with electricity, the tension palpable between the three Summoners.

Finally, Lucien closed his fist, dissipating the ice sphere.

"I didn't intend to kill him, not this time," Lucien conceded, though his voice was far from satisfied.

He turned to Kairos, who still lay on the frozen ground, trembling from both cold and fear. "But let me make this clear, Kairos. This special team is under my direct jurisdiction. If anything happens to any of them, there will be consequences. And I assure you, they won't be as... friendly as this exchange."

Kairos, still shivering from cold and fear, nodded quickly. "Understood, Von Lucien. It won't happen again."

Lucien looked at him for a moment longer, his gaze piercing, before turning to where Elio lay unconscious, surrounded by his anxious teammates. His expression softened slightly, concern replacing anger.

"Take Elio to the resting room," he ordered, his voice softening slightly. "Make sure he doesn't receive any more damage until the system heals him."

As Elio's team hurried to comply with his orders, Lucien turned to Raelar.

"This can't happen again," he said quietly. "We need to know the movements of you-know-who and the family. We can't allow sabotage now, not when we're so close to implementing the new defense strategies."

Raelar nodded. "I agree. I'll accompany you to the next Summoners' Council meeting to discuss this matter… Maybe we should bring Sel…?"

"No, let's try one peaceful approach one last time..."

Meanwhile, Kairos finally managed to free himself from the ice that kept him immobilized. He stood up with difficulty, his pride as bruised as his body.

"Lucien, I swear I thought he was dodging the last one," he began, but stopped at the icy glare he received.

"I don't want to hear your excuses, Kairos," Lucien said. "What you did today was reckless and dangerous. Not only did you risk the life of a valuable soldier, but you also compromised the trust that soldiers have in us, the Summoners."

Kairos lowered his gaze, unable to withstand the intensity of Lucien's eyes. "I'm sorry," he mumbled. "I didn't think that…"

"Exactly," Lucien interrupted. "You didn't think. And that's precisely why, not just because of your age, you remain the youngest Summoner. A true leader must consider the consequences of their actions."

Raelar, observing the exchange, intervened once more. "Lucien is right, Kairos. Your behavior today was unacceptable. You'll have to answer to the Council for your actions."

Kairos nodded, defeated. "I understand. I'll accept whatever punishment the Council deems appropriate..."

♢♢♢♢

Elio's team carefully transported him to the infirmary. Zara, tears in her eyes, held Elio's hand, her grip a silent promise of protection and care.

"He's going to be fine," Micah murmured, though his voice trembled slightly. "Elio's strong. He still has 4 resistance points according to Ren's calculations. The system is absolute. It won't let him... it can't let him..."

Kriz, despite the situation, couldn't contain his amazement. "Did you see that? Elio managed to hit a Summoner! It's incredible! I mean, it's terrible that he's hurt, but... Elio might have got a third ball today."

"Shut up, Kriz," Brok growled. "Elio could have died, though his balls are definitely made of steel..."

Ren observed the scene with concern and fascination. "The probability of Elio managing to hit a Summoner was astronomically low," he muttered. "We'll have to recalculate our statistics, reassess our capabilities."

Zara stood apart from the group, her emotions in turmoil. The initial relief of seeing Elio survive the encounter was quickly giving way to a complex mix of guilt, anger, and fear.

"This is my fault," she whispered, her voice barely audible. "I pushed him to prove himself. And now..."

Her fists clenched at her sides, trembling with suppressed emotion. "But what was he thinking?" she suddenly burst out, her voice rising. "Taking on a Summoner? He could have died! All for what? To prove a point?"

She trailed off, her gaze fixed on Elio's unconscious form.

The anger in her eyes softened, replaced by a look of tender concern that revealed the depth of her feelings for him. "If he had died, I'd never forgive myself," she whispered. "But now that he's safe, I might just kill him myself for being such an idiot."

♢♢♢♢

'We need to be better prepared', Lucien thought. 'The monsters are a constant threat; we can't allow our own internal conflicts to weaken us.'

Some days later, Lucien arrived at the imposing doors of the council chamber.

Raelar stood beside him, a silent pillar of support. They exchanged a look of resolute understanding before Lucien pushed the doors open, striding into the ongoing meeting, once again...

The elders Mordred and Estin, along with other council members, looked up with barely disguised irritation. Mordred was the first to speak, his voice laden with disdain.

"Ah, Lucien. I see you still haven't learned the importance of protocols. To what do we owe this new intrusion?"

Lucien advanced without hesitation, Raelar at his side like a silent but imposing presence. "The soldiers defending the wall can't wait, esteemed council members. The results of our new training methods have exceeded all expectations. We stand at a critical juncture."

Estin arched an eyebrow, his interest barely piqued. "Is that so? Enlighten us, then."

With a fluid gesture, Lucien spread several scrolls on the council table. The parchments unfurled with a satisfying rustle, revealing meticulously recorded data and statistics.

"As you can see, we've significantly improved the success rates in the first three levels of the System. Level one has gone from 98.7% to 99.8% survival rate thanks to the free oxygen stone I've been giving out for free for the last few months."

He paused, allowing the information to sink in before continuing. "Level two has improved from 72% to 91% due to the new information I purchased and implemented in our 'first day' training regimens. And level three, well..."

"Get to the point, Lucien," Mordred interrupted, though his eyes scrutinized the numbers with growing interest, betraying his attempt at nonchalance.

"Level three has gone from a measly 40% to an impressive 76% success rate, which can increase if they stick 100% to the new strategy," Lucien concluded, his voice filled with barely contained pride.

A murmur of amazement swept through the room. Even Mordred and Estin seemed impressed, though they tried hard not to show it.

Lucien seized the moment of silence to launch his proposal. "In light of these results, I request that I be granted the rights to decide how soldiers should be trained and distributed across the 50,000 meters of wall and the 1,000 towers that crown it."

The reaction was immediate and predictable. Mordred slammed his wrinkled fist on the table. "Absurd! We won't cede control of the mana to a single individual, no matter how impressive their achievements."

Lucien smiled inwardly; he had anticipated this reaction, having carefully crafted his words to emphasize God's turrets. "I'm not asking for control of the mana, honorable elders. I'm simply requesting the authority to determine defense strategies, rotations, and soldier roles. The incoming mana would remain under your and grandpa's direct control, as it always has been."

Estin narrowed his eyes, suspicious. "And what would we gain from this... arrangement?"

"Efficiency," Lucien replied without hesitation. "With my strategy, we could optimize the use of soldiers in defenses, reducing losses and maximizing our response capacity to breaches."

The council members exchanged glances, weighing the proposal.

Finally, Mordred spoke. "Very well, Lucien. Given your... unexpected success, we'll grant you control over the 25 million mana budgets for defense improvements and the daily salary of 50,000 mana that was planned. We'll also release your monthly allocations, previously... frozen.

But keep in mind that we'll be watching your every move closely."

Lucien nodded, hiding his satisfaction. It was more than he expected to get. "I appreciate your trust. Now, there's another matter we must discuss: I had a situation with Kairos."

The atmosphere in the room visibly tensed. Mordred frowned. "What about my grandson?"