Chapter 20: System's 40%

The days passed quickly as Elio, his friends, and the arrogant Varick immersed themselves in intense training. Varick even forced his goons to learn the strategy, as Von Lucien had ordered it to be taught to as many soldiers as possible before the deadline.

With only thirty days remaining before the mandatory random conscription, time was of the essence. Elio and the others seized every available moment to practice and perfect the precise movements required.

Von Lucien had begun distributing information about the strategy among the selected soldiers, but everyone knew nothing was compared to receiving first-hand instruction from those who had mastered it. So he gave them 10 days to achieve this and then 20 days to teach the others.

♢♢♢♢

On the 10th day, the five youths finally presented themselves to the officials to register as third-level challengers. Varick, of course, insisted on going first, taking advantage of his privileged status.

"What is the meaning of this?" The guard in charge frowned as Varick approached. "As a member of one of the families, you still lack two years before you can attempt the challenge."

Varick snorted disdainfully. "That no longer matters. Von Lucien has authorized me to attempt it immediately."

The guard blinked, clearly confused, but a gesture from Von Lucien lurking in the nearby shadows made him nod grudgingly. Elio pushed Ren, Brok, and Kriz; they passed one by one, registering and preparing for their turn.

Before entering, each of them stopped at the nearest exchange statue. They had saved the 50 points needed for the heat blanket and air stone, just as Elio had suggested.

Varick, of course, was not content with such modest equipment. His enchanted fire cloak cost 4,000 points, his superior disposable fire sword 10,000, and his enchanted air stone 100 points. He also wore 10,000-point damage-resistant clothing and carried five 1,000-point disposable fire daggers to throw.

"My mother insisted I spare no expense on equipment," Varick excused himself at the others' incredulous looks.

Elio shook his head. "Remember, equipment is not everything. Strategy and execution are what's most important."

Varick waved him off disdainfully, but Elio couldn't help but worry. What if Varick's arrogance led him to underestimate the monster?

♢♢♢♢

The book rose… Varick emerged from his book shortly after, his equipment partially damaged but a smug expression on his face.

"See? I told you my superior gear would make it super easy."

Elio let out a sigh of relief to see he had managed to overcome the challenge. If the others could also triumph with the enhanced strategy, perhaps there was hope for the 10,000 soldiers.

The next to enter was one of Varick's goons, a bulky, arrogant guy named Prent. He shot a disdainful look at Elio and the others before being transported.

"Watch and learn, losers," he mocked. "This is how a real warrior deals with those beasts."

Varick snorted approvingly, folding his arms as they waited. Elio exchanged a worried look with his friends. Something about Prent's confident demeanor left him with a bad feeling.

After an agonizing wait, Prent's book rose, then began to fade.

"Prent!" Varick rushed toward the book, his face etched with concern. "What the hell happened?"

A heavy silence fell over the group as they processed the scene before their eyes. Even Varick seemed horrified, his face pale and tense.

Suddenly, the silence was broken when Varick let out a scream of fury, clenching his fists so tightly his knuckles turned white.

"Damn fool!" he roared. "I told him to follow the plan to the letter! But no, he had to think he was better than the filth!"

Elio watched as Varick kicked the ground in rage, cursing and ranting about Prent's stupidity. Despite the young heir's arrogance, Elio couldn't help but feel a twinge of sympathy.

After all, they had worked together on the strategy. And now, one of his own had paid the ultimate price for underestimating it.

Finally, Varick calmed down, though his jaw remained clenched with barely contained rage. He turned towards the rest of his goons, who watched the scene with thinly veiled expressions of fear.

"Let this be a lesson to all of you!" he spat, his voice dripping with venom. "If you don't follow the plan to the letter, you'll end up just like this idiot. Am I clear?"

The goons nodded frantically, swallowing nervously. Varick snorted and stalked off.

A tense, heavy silence descended over the remaining group.

This was a stark warning of the consequences of underestimating the monster, or making even a single mistake in executing the strategy. From now on, there would be no room for arrogance or carelessness.

Two people had attempted the challenge so far, one had succeeded. 50% was better than the reputed 40% success rate, but it was still too low, especially considering Varick had used unconventional, expensive equipment...

Had he underestimated the difficulty of the challenge? Or had Prent simply failed to properly execute the strategy?

Elio looked at his friends, a shadow of doubt crossing his face.

♢♢♢♢

Elio's heart pounded as he watched Ren enter the arena. His friend shot him one last resolved look before nodding and being transported inside the book, clutching the disposable fire sword tightly in his hand.

A heavy silence fell over the remaining group. Varick and his four remaining goons kept their distance, disdainful expressions on their faces, but Elio could see the worry shining in Brok and Kriz's eyes.

The minutes dragged by at a torturous crawl, each second seeming an eternity as they waited for any sign from inside the book. Suddenly, the book rose up.

Elio held his breath, his fists clenched so tightly his nails dug into his palms. Had Ren failed? Had he made a fatal mistake in executing the strategy?

An icy chill gripped his chest at the possibility of having sent his friend to certain death. Brok looked equally affected, his face pale and tense.

Then, the book burst open and Ren emerged with his hand raised and coated in a shimmering metal.

"I did it!" he exclaimed in a ragged voice before collapsing to the ground, having fainted from sheer fright.

Elio let out such an intense sigh of relief he nearly blacked out. Kriz ran to Ren's side, dropping to his knees, voice reminiscent of Lena, Elio's mother, as he cried out.

"You're alive… thank God, you're alive!"

Brok approached as well, a shaky smile on his face. "Well done, friend. I knew you'd make it."

Varick snorted disdainfully, but Elio could see the reluctant respect shining in his eyes.

They had barely had time to celebrate when the next turn was announced. This time, it was Brok who entered his book, his resolved expression betraying no hint of doubt.

The wait was just as tense, every minute an endless agony. Elio paced back and forth, unable to keep still, imagining the worst scenarios.

The book rose up...

Elio held his breath, eyes fixed on it. Could Brok have...?

Suddenly, the pages burst open and Brok emerged, grinning triumphantly while flexing his minimal but visible increase in muscle mass.

"Yes!" Ren let out a whoop of celebration, momentarily forgetting his fear and trauma.

Elio felt an immense weight lift from his shoulders. Two of his friends had managed to overcome the challenge. Now only Kriz remained.

The relief was short-lived, however, as Kriz was called into the arena. Elio watched with dread as his friend prepared himself, his expression determined but his hands trembling slightly.

"Be careful," Elio murmured, wishing he could do more than watch helplessly.

Time seemed to slow as Kriz was transported and the book closed behind him with a dull, definitive thud. Elio paced incessantly, every fiber of his being screaming to rush in and help.