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5.53% Utopian System / Chapter 16: Chapter 16: System's Grudge

Capítulo 16: Chapter 16: System's Grudge

The days passed, and Elio immersed himself even deeper into his training regimen.

In addition to tirelessly practicing his throwing abilities, he also began to focus on improving his control over his magical abilities, something few… Or maybe none, saw as a good idea.

"Are you really going to waste your daily mana on that?" Kriz observed him skeptically as Elio spun the air in his palm in different directions, channeling his mana. "Buddy, at this rate you'll end up poorer than Brok."

Elio opened one eye and smiled. "You never know what you might need in the next chall… life's challenge. I prefer to be prepared."

"If you say so," Kriz shrugged and sat on the ground. "I guess your… work with the Summoner allows you to..."

♢♢♢♢

The next day, Brok and Ren joined in the taunting when they found Elio meditating in a cross-legged posture, water flowing around him with a soft blue aura.

"Hey, if you're going to start levitating any moment, at least warn us so we can tie you to something," Brok cracked, chuckling.

Ren shook his head in amusement. "Never thought I'd see you doing those weird rich people things, Elio. What's next, hiring some thugs and saying we're all trash?"

"Ha ha, very funny," Elio opened his eyes and let his mana dissipate. "For your information, I'm working on improving my mana control."

"Really?" Ren raised a skeptical eyebrow. "And how does that help you?"

Before Elio could respond, a deep voice spoke behind them. "Actually, greater mana control could be precisely what Elio needs."

They turned to find Von Lucien watching them with a slight smile. The Summoner approached and motioned for Elio to stand up.

"I've been reviewing your commission in more detail," Von Lucien began. "And I'm afraid throwing brooms won't help you much, magical spears have a particular form..."

Elio's eyes widened with concern. "What do you mean? I thought if I had 100% accuracy I'd have a good shot."

Von Lucien slowly shook his head. "Come to my office, I'll give you something to grab and some advice on how to use magic to improve your range."

Kriz, Brok, and Ren were left behind, not entirely understanding what they were talking about, though they had their suspicions…

Some thought it sounded weirdly like a challenge against the families, while others thought it was code for going to grab and lick something… it was left hanging who thought what.

♢♢♢♢

Elio emerged from Von Lucien's office with a steel lance and a renewed determination burning inside him.

The Summoner's advice had been invaluable, and now he felt more prepared than ever to master this crucial skill.

However, upon rounding a hallway, he came face-to-face with the last person he wanted to see:

Varick.

The young man was flanked by his usual thugs, and a mocking smile spread across his face upon seeing Elio.

"Well, well, look who we have here," Varick sneered, looking Elio up and down and noticing the level 3 lance. "The little filth is trying to learn how to throw?"

One of the thugs let out a derisive snicker. "Don't you know that's a pastime for families members? Someone like you could never master it. Where did you get 1000 mana points for that lance?"

Elio clenched his teeth, holding back his anger. After having endured it for so long, he no longer let Varick's taunts provoke him as easily.

But before he could respond, the privileged young man surprised him.

"Although, I must admit I'm intrigued to see a nobody like you trying to learn something so refined," Varick said, his tone almost condescending. "Perhaps, just perhaps, you could benefit from some advice from a true expert."

Elio blinked, taken aback. Was Varick offering to help him? That was completely unexpected from someone who seemed to enjoy intimidating him so much.

"Did you eat something strange, Varick?" he asked warily, his distrust evident.

Varick shrugged nonchalantly. "Nothing at all, same 50 mana points food as always... It simply amuses me to see a filth like you striving so hard for something clearly beyond your reach. But, for once, I'll be merciful and give you some advice that might help you… though I doubt you'll really make use of it."

Elio hesitated, unsure whether to trust Varick. But his desire to improve his throwing abilities was too great to pass up any opportunity, no matter how unlikely it seemed.

"Okay," he finally accepted. "I'm listening."

A satisfied smile crossed Varick's face. "Excellent. First of all, your stance is key..."

To Elio's surprise, Varick's advice proved genuinely helpful. He instructed Elio on how to better distribute his weight and align his body for a more stable and powerful throw. He also taught him how to breathe properly and synchronize his movement with his breath.

Though wary at first, Elio couldn't help but notice an almost immediate improvement as he applied Varick's advice. His throws became smoother and more precise, and the lance seemed to travel with greater speed and control.

♢♢♢♢

"Not bad for a beginner, I suppose," Varick commented finally. "Although you still have a long way to go before even approaching the level of a true master thrower."

Elio looked at him with a frown, unsure if Varick was mocking him again or genuinely acknowledging his progress.

"Thanks for the advice, Varick," he said cautiously. "Though I must admit I don't understand why you're helping me."

Varick shrugged carelessly. "As I said, I found it amusing. Besides, it's always good to have someone to easily surpass, to inflate my ego from time to time."

Elio rolled his eyes at those words but decided not to argue. Instead, he focused on practicing the new moves, determined to perfect them.

Finally, after a while, Varick grew bored and left, leaving Elio alone on the training grounds. But the young warrior barely noticed, too absorbed in his practice.

♢♢♢♢

Varick entered his uncle Lucien's office with firm steps, his brow furrowed in a scowl of distaste.

Lucien looked up from the scrolls he was studying and his own brow furrowed upon seeing his nephew.

"Varick, what a surprise to see you here. To what do I owe the pleasure?"

Varick didn't beat around the bush. "Can you tell me what the hell you're scheming with that filth Elio Elian?"

Lucien raised an eyebrow. "I see your eloquence remains as charming as ever."

Varick snorted. "Don't play dumb, uncle. Everyone at the wall is talking about how that idiot is practicing throwing things like the families members do, you're giving him advice and access to resources that should be reserved only for members of our family."

Lucien sighed and leaned back in his chair. "So that's what's bothering you. I thought you'd gotten over your grudge against Farbe Elian. Since you didn't push for Elio to be on the defenders squad."

Varick clenched his fists, his face reddening with anger. "That idiot...! He was responsible for my father's death. How am I supposed to forget that?"

Lucien slowly shook his head. "My brother was a victim of his own arrogance and stubbornness, not Farbe's. He warned him not to face the third-level monster with a simple disposable fire sword, as did I. Farbe was doing it out of necessity, but your father refused to listen and you know it well."

Varick looked away, clenching his jaw. It was evident he understood the truth, but still harbored resentments over that tragic event.

"Anyway it's not about that, you know he has no chance against a fourth-level monster, and yet you push him towards it. That fool is Farbe's spawn and will die young just like him if you get him into this. E-even if I did bully him in my childhood, I at least never used the family to take it too far... Despite the damn guy humiliating me on several occasions… I'm an honorable knight."

"Elio isn't to blame for your father's mistakes either, and bullying the weak isn't honorable, nephew," Lucien continued softly. "He's a promising young man, with great potential if guided correctly."

"So then why do you want him to antagonize our family?" Varick sneered. "What's a nobody who couldn't even prevent his gear from being stolen for the first challenge going to do against the elders?"

Lucien gave a slight smile. "Don't play dumb, nephew, I know it was you who stole it, but I must thank you for doing so... That's precisely why I'm training him. Because despite that setback, he managed to overcome the challenge without any gear. That shows a determination and ingenuity worthy of cultivation. I need allies like him if I'm ever to change things."

Lucien fell silent for a moment, as if considering how much to say. Finally, he spoke in a grave voice. "Things aren't right in our system, Varick. Too many lives are being needlessly lost, and the elders are too blind to see it."

Varick frowned, though his expression softened slightly. "I suppose you have a point. At first it was annoying that the filth managed to beat the fire monster without weapons, I also didn't agree with you corroborating his information before the second challenge, it should only be for members of our family... But I'm as honorable as my father was, his bravery surprised me. I thought after stealing his gear he'd wait a month to get more."

Lucien nodded. "Exactly. And if he can do that in the first challenge, I believe he has a chance to improve the strategy for the higher levels. Farbe's strategy that Elio confirmed for level 3 can help improve the probability of success and grow the numbers of level 3 antibreach squads."

Varick was silent for a moment, considering his uncle's words. Finally, he shook his head in resignation.

"Very well, uncle. I still don't entirely like the filth, but I suppose I can respect his courage." He flashed a mocking smile. "Though I still think it's a lost cause. There's no way he can overcome the fourth level without proper gear."

Lucien smiled enigmatically. "Don't underestimate people with few resources, nephew."

"I suppose it makes sense, I did underestimate the filth," he finally admitted. "But still, I think you're playing a dangerous game, uncle. If the elders find out what you're up to..."

Lucien nodded gravely. "I know, and that's why I need your absolute discretion in this matter. No one else can know what I'm scheming."

Varick hesitated, but finally nodded. "Alright, but you need a better excuse for the training... I'll keep your secret. But in exchange, I want you to help me overcome the third level challenge."

Lucien raised an eyebrow. "But the family won't let you attempt it until you turn twenty, you know the protocol."

"I know," Varick responded. "But I don't plan to wait that long. The filth can't be a higher level than me, I'm ready to advance. You just need to advocate for me to bypass the safe age protocol."

Lucien studied him for a long moment, evaluating him. Finally, he gave a slight smile.

"Very well, nephew. I'll help expedite your third level challenge. But in exchange, you must promise to keep secret what I'm doing with Elio Elian. No interfering or telling anyone and… Another small thing."

Varick nodded without hesitation. "I promise. You have my word of honor."

Lucien smiled and extended his hand. "Then we have a deal."

Varick shook his uncle's hand, sealing the pact. Though he still had his doubts about what Lucien was scheming, he couldn't deny part of him was eager to surpass Elio and rub it in his face.

♢♢♢♢

A few months later, the sun was high in the sky as Elio made his way to the training grounds, the steel lance gripped firmly in his hand.

Despite its considerable weight and size, he wielded it as if it weighed no more than a twig.

Von Lucien had assured him this spear had the same shape and weight as the max level magical spears, making it the perfect practice tool.

Elio took position, his eyes squinting as he evaluated the targets scattered across the field. With a fluid motion, he raised the lance over his head, inhaled deeply and...

BOOM!

A small explosion of compressed oxygen in a small nickel container propelled the lance forward, flying like a deadly projectile. Elio tracked it with his gaze, smiling in satisfaction as it embedded itself cleanly in the center of the farthest target, the tip sinking deeply into the wood.


PENSAMENTOS DOS CRIADORES
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