Von Lucien was lounging in his private chambers, absent-mindedly petting the frog perched atop his head, when a breathless messenger burst in. The young man bowed so low he nearly toppled over, his face flushed with urgency.
"Urgent news from the Elder Councils, Lord Summoner!" he gasped, thrusting forward a scroll as if it might spontaneously combust.
Lucien's eyebrows performed an impressive feat as he scanned the contents.
By the time he finished reading, his face had cycled through more expressions than a mime's entire repertoire.
♢♢♢♢
As soon as he was alone, Lucien let out a muffled oath and began to pace back and forth, the little frog on his head getting dizzy, the crumpled scroll clutched in his tight fist.
"Well," he muttered to his amphibian companion, "And here I thought they couldn't surprise me anymore."
The Elders had announced an unprecedented, massive move:
ten thousand level 2 soldiers were to be "volunteered" to face the third-level monster. Their only equipment? A disposable fire sword and a prayer.
The mere idea was absurd when he considered the final amount of mana that would be lost from the deaths.
The math was grimmer than a graveyard at midnight, with a 40% success rate,they were essentially signing 6,000 death warrants. Even the best prepared in the families only managed an 80% success rate.
This wasn't generosity; it was a thinly veiled massacre.
Lucien felt a familiar sense of dread creeping up his spine.
The Elders always had hidden motives behind their apparent acts of generosity or justice. This reeked of another power play, but at what cost?
Clenching his fists, Lucien made a decision:
He would not allow this plan, whatever it was, to proceed without opposition. It was time to confront those elders again and demand answers, even if he had to use all his influence as a Summoner.
♢♢♢♢
He strode towards the council chambers, his cloak billowing behind him.
The guards at the door took one look at his thunderous expression and decided that selective blindness was the better part of valor.
Lucien burst into the room like a hurricane in human form, the doors slamming against the walls with a resounding bang.
"This has gone too far!" he roared.
The members of the Elder Families, seated around the marble table, looked up with expressions of surprise that quickly turned to scowls of distaste.
Elder Mordred was the first to regain his composure. "What is the meaning of this outrageous intrusion, Lucien? You better have a good excuse..."
"Excuses will no longer suffice!" Lucien flung the crumpled scroll onto the table with a swirl of air. "Can someone tell me what the hell you were thinking authorizing this insanity? Sending ten thousand men to the slaughter against that monster is a complete waste of lives!"
An indignant murmur rippled around the table as the leaders scrutinized the scroll. Finally, Estin raised a wrinkled hand in a placating gesture.
Lucien sighed, feeling the weight of the world on his shoulders. It was shaping up to be one of those days where the universe seemed determined to test his patience. He had no choice but to receive his nephew and hear what he had to say, as long as he didn't want the secret to reach the families' ears.
Since Elio was looking for Lucien too...
Moments later, Elio and Varick were ushered into the office, glaring at each other like two cats fighting over the last sardine.
"What is this filth doing here?" Varick spat with disdain.
"Charming as ever, I see," Elio retorted, his eyes narrowing. "Did they run out of mirrors for you to admire yourself in?"
"Enough, you two. Spare me your childish squabbles this once." Lucien intervened, massaging his temples. He motioned towards the chairs in front of his desk. "Please, have a seat. I have an urgent matter to discuss."
Lucien interlaced his fingers, his expression extremely grave. Reluctantly, Elio and Varick obeyed, shooting each other challenging looks. Lucien sighed and cut to the chase.
He quickly outlined the situation...
Elio remembered the day he received the news of his father's passing, his family utterly devastated by the event.
Around 6,000 families were about to suffer the same tragedy.
'Six thousand deaths', his assumption was right... Elio gasped, his face paling.
"We have to stop this! It's... it's monstrous!"
Varick rolled his eyes, though even he couldn't entirely hide his discomfort. "Oh please, like you care about..."
"Zip it, Varick," Lucien snapped, his patience finally gone. "Unless the next words out of your mouth are 'I have a brilliant plan to save 6,000 lives', I don't want to hear it. This isn't about your petty rivalries or family pride. We're talking about real lives here."
Turning to Elio, Lucien's voice softened, a glimmer of hope in his eyes. "Your father's strategy might be our only hope, Elio. I know it's asking a lot, but if we could teach those ten thousand soldiers Farbe's method... we might just be able to save thousands of lives."
Elio's eyes opened with renewed hope. "My father's strategy! Of course! I..."
Varick snorted derisively. "And we're supposed to trust the ravings of the filth's father who couldn't even attempt to overcome the fourth challenge on his own? Elio must have gotten lucky to set those time records in the first two encounters! His third encounter time is not even that..."
"Enough, Varick," Lucien cut him off sternly. "Do not insult the memory of Farbe Elian or his son's ability. He has already proven more than capable of finding ingenious solutions. The third challenge with the best weapons, armor and extra equipment that our family surpasses in record time is much easier than with just a disposable fire sword, do not compare them."
Varick opened his mouth to protest, then thought better of it and sulked in silence.
Lucien turned to Elio with a pleading look. "Could you share that strategy with everyone, Elio? Of course, I will compensate you for the information, even though I know the method from Farbe's own mouth, you own it by inheritance and by proving it."
Elio hesitated, shooting a sidelong glance at Varick. Finally, he swallowed and nodded resolutely. But he needed help with his own challenge, so maybe...
"I'll do it," he said, his voice firm despite the slight tremor in his hands. "For a thousand... no, ten thousand points..."
Before Elio could finish, Lucien raised a hand in a placating gesture. "The strategy your father risked developing and proving in the flesh is worth far more than that. It is an invaluable treasure, and I don't intend to insult his memory by lowballing you."
He stood up and rounded the desk to stand before Elio. He placed a hand on his shoulder in a paternal gesture.
"How about this, 100,000 mana points as a token of my gratitude. And not just that... I'll also provide you with the best magical armor and spear from our reserves for your fourth-level challenge. If I can't get them from the vault, I'll give you mine."
Elio's jaw dropped, his eyes widening in disbelief. Even Varick seemed impressed, though he quickly hid his reaction behind a mask of disdain.