811 Technically.
“They really are cunning individuals,” Aron said, a laugh escaping him as he observed the data in front of him. Amusement danced in his eyes, though it was tinged with a hint of disbelief. “I wouldn’t have thought to take it this far, but they’re really pushing the boundaries of what they can get away with under the mana oaths.”
{I would’ve done something similar too,} Nova standing beside Aron as always remarked, her usual calm tone laced with dry humor. {But I wouldn’t have been so blatant about it.}
Aron, who had just returned from a highly productive meeting with the Conclave representatives, had wasted no time. Instead of resting, he’d immediately logged into VR, eager to sift through the trove of knowledge he’d secured—a prize that had come at the cost of risking his own life.
But what greeted him was not the seamless integration of knowledge he’d hoped for. Instead, he was faced with a chaotic mess: a collection of data encoded in wildly different methods, each unique to the civilization it originated from.
Had it stopped there, it wouldn’t have been a major issue. The technologies at their disposal could have easily deciphered the various encoding systems in a relatively short time, mapping out their logic and bridging the gaps.
But, of course, it hadn’t stopped there. Some civilizations had taken it a step further, encrypting their contributions, turning what could have been a manageable challenge into a far more intricate and deliberate obstacle.
“They haven’t technically broken any rules,” Aron muttered, his tone a mix of frustration and grudging admiration as he stared at the chaotic mess of data displayed before him. Each file looked entirely different from the last, a testament to the diversity—and cunning—of the civilizations that had shared their knowledge. “It’s the kind of clever technicality you appreciate when you’re the one benefiting from it. But being on the receiving end? Not so much.” n/o/vel/b//in dot c//om
The technology he had risked his life to acquire was right there in front of him, tantalizingly close yet completely out of reach.
{We should have been clearer in the contract,} Nova chimed in. Although she clearly respected the shrewdness of their adversaries she wasn’t a fan of Aron being on the receiving end of it. {Now we can’t even use the mana stones as leverage to demand the decryption keys, thanks to the promise we made in the new agreement. They’ve boxed us in without breaking a single rule.}
Aron nodded, his lips pressed into a thin line. “Smart move,” he admitted begrudgingly.
“So,” Aron continued, standing upright, “what are the rules you want to include? I gave you a week to think it over—plenty of time to ensure everything feels fair to you.”
Seraphina’s expression sharpened as she began listing the rules, her tone steady but firm. “Our abilities will not be limited in any way. At the start of the fight, both sides will be restored to the peak of their current capabilities. You will not manipulate the system to your advantage. The referee must remain impartial and ensure you can’t exploit loopholes in the rules. The fight will continue until one of us is either dead or willingly surrenders...”
She went on, her meticulous attention to detail making it clear she hadn’t wasted the week Aron had given her. It was evident she had spent much of her time thinking through every possible angle, preemptively closing off any potential advantages Aron might gain from his knowledge of the system.
When she finally finished, Aron nodded, a faint grin forming on his lips. “I accept your conditions and swear upon mana to abide by them.” Without hesitation, he initiated the mana oath, his voice steady as the ancient energy surged around them in acknowledgment.
The mana oath—a binding contract of sorts—could be made anywhere, even within the system. Aron had confirmed this through prior testing. The key was that the one making the oath had to be of sound mind and completely free of coercion. If there was any doubt about the individual's autonomy, mana itself would reject the oath.
{Good,} Nova’s voice cut through the air, as shematerializing before them. She wore attire resembling a referee’s uniform. {I will oversee this fight under the stipulated rules. We will begin as soon as both sides confirm their readiness.}
Her presence carried an unmistakable air of authority, and her serious demeanor left no doubt that she would enforce the rules impartially. This wasn’t a mere formality—Nova would ensure no violations occurred.
Aron finished his stretches and straightened up, looking at Seraphina with a calm yet focused gaze. “Whenever you’re ready.”
Seraphina gave a curt nod, her stance shifting subtly as she prepared herself. “I’ve been ready for days,” she replied, her confidence palpable.
Nova glanced between the two, her voice neutral but commanding. {Then let’s begin.}