"P.S. of the P.S. of the P.S.: By the way, your new element is called iron."
The final armor bonuses flowed through Elio: a hundred resistance points, plus one point in each defensive aspect and magical damage.
Elio Von Elian's Statistics
Resistance: 100/100 (+1000) (New)
Defense: 10 (20) (New)
Magic Defense: 10 (+5)(+10 / (25) (New)
Magic Damage: 10 (+10)(+40) / (60) (New)
Significant improvements, but the gap between him and the Artromus remained abysmal.
The numbers were sobering.
Their base resistance alone was a hundred times his own. Even with his system armor providing an additional 1000 points of resistance, he was still vastly outmatched. A single demon soldier possessed mana reserves ten times greater than his, and their elemental enhancements could double their already superior stats.
'Not ready,' he thought, the realization settling like a heavy weight.
Even after achieving what no other human had, even after conquering the tenth level, he was still far from being able to challenge these beings effectively.
The Artromus's power suddenly made more sense, but...
'There has to be a way,' he thought while opening his book, seeking to understand this new option of combining summons.
The page appeared right after his last known summon.
Eight small squares showed his available summons, with two more darkened... mute promises of power yet to be attained.
The explanation was clear but the implications profound:
"You can take 2 summons to combine them. The magical power increase of the resulting combination will be 10 multiplied by the number of summons the summoner possesses."
Available power: +80 MD
'Eighty points,' Elio read. A considerable increase in magical power, but the god's words resonated in his mind: the choice had to be careful, thinking about utility, not just power.
The summons he chose would become his main source of power, relegating the others to support roles. Each option opened different tactical possibilities:
"Are you hiding him in your pocket?" Kriz's joke hung in the air as he saw Elio's face and the dumb smile faded from his face.
Elio observed Zara's expectant eyes, searching for someone who wouldn't return.
The words he had mentally rehearsed so many times felt inadequate now. There was no right way to say this, no way to soften the blow.
Instead of speaking, Elio stepped forward and embraced her. It was a strong, protective embrace, the kind that said more than words.
"Micah sacrificed himself to save me," the words came out soft, barely a whisper. "He died for me and for the city."
Zara's body tensed in his arms.
For a moment, she seemed not to breathe, as if the words had frozen time itself. Elio could feel the exact moment when understanding began to seep in, first in the way her hands clutched at his back, then in the subtle tremor that began to course through her body.
Zara's pain emerged like a wave, starting as a tremor, tears beginning to fall, first silent and then growing until they became sobs that shook her entire body.
"No," Zara whispered, her voice mixing denial and agony. "No, no, no..."
Her legs failed and Elio holds her as she falls, but the movement only made the embrace more desperate.
Each sob triggered a memory in Elio, each tremor a memory of Micah: his sarcastic smile, his unique way of seeing the world, his unwavering loyalty... Always there to support them when they needed it.
Elio's eyes, fixed on a distant point, began to lose focus as the meaning settled like poison in his veins.
He, who had been containing his own pain, trying to be strong for her, for everyone, finally breaks.
The trembling began in his hands, slowly spreading throughout his body.
All the pain he had been containing, all the guilt and loss he had pushed to a corner of his mind to keep functioning, all emerged at once.
The tears he had been holding since the 8th challenge... Not those of fury, but those of sadness, of pain, finally found their way out.
His knees gave way too, and there, on the floor of the tunnel they had built together, Elio finally allowed himself to feel the full weight of the loss. He wasn't just the leader mourning a fallen soldier, he was a friend mourning another, a brother mourning his brother.
"I'm sorry," he whispered through tears. "I'm so sorry..."
Zara just held him tighter, her tears mixing with his, sharing a pain that no words could adequately express.
They aren't the leader and his second in command. They aren't the city's defenders. They're just two friends, shattered by the loss of someone irreplaceable, holding each other while pain cuts through them like a storm.
A storm that sooner or later... would reach the culprit.