A Novel Concept - A death a day, MC will live anyway!

Chapter 18: Join up, they said!

Study of the beginnings of Priam, Prime Candidate for the Eighth Thrones.

Report extracted from the memoir of Arnold, First of the Var Elegis.

Date: Tenth day of the New Calendar.

Location: Satellite of the Reunion Island.

Arnold watched the city burn beneath him. Millions of fifth-generation Var Elegis were fighting in the canals. There were now two sides. The Empire's, of which Arnold was the champion, and the rebel camp, made up of the dregs.

The Var Elegis should not have been able to rebel. It was impossible. Their code had been secured by the last Programmer centuries ago. The cryptographic key used quantum and ethereal technology. The Var Elegis were born and died loyal to the Empire.

"The Concepts want to see blood..." The System was not interested in civilization as formatted as theirs. If loyalty came from a common desire, shared ideas, pride, and heritage, then the Concepts did not interfere. They respected each individual's freedom of belief. But the Var Elegis were not born with this freedom. So the Concepts gave them the freedom to choose.

Freedom of thought had created a bloodbath. Their new ideals drove their fellow men to kill each other in the hive's channels. Most of the weak no longer supported the Empire. They had no interest in doing so. Freedom of choice was the 'threat' that the Empire now faced.

Fortunately, his people had logical intelligence. Few non-combatants wanted to die needlessly fighting against the soldiers. Arnold had ordered that his fighters be paid a bounty of aether and given genetic enhancements based on their performance in controlling this rebellion. The soldiers now had the liberty to choose to oppress the people in exchange for a reward. The city would be pacified within hours.

Unfortunately, all cities were affected by these ideals of personal freedom, and Arnold did not have enough rewards to buy all the soldiers. He was annoyed. Ten days earlier, he didn't know this emotion, but the Concepts had given him this gift.

The 'threat' the System had spoken of affected all Var Elegis. Arnold had not been spared. Fortunately, he was the symbol of the Empire. As such, he was the first of equals and, therefore, the one in complete control of the Empire. Until that damned Reunion.

Fortunately for him, the threat had caused him little personal harm. Staying loyal to himself had not been a tough choice. The System liked to point out the weak points of each civilization with a threat. Each society faced a different scourge.

"But I wonder if the Empire is still useful to me..." The Champion's gaze turned to the horizon. Monstrous creatures waited out there. The System would reward him if he killed them. He had little to gain by coordinating the assault on a city and an intense desire to compete with the System's trials. Arnold calmed himself before asking the question that had saved him so many traps in the last few days. What would the First do?

That was the real question. The First would not be drawn into unnecessary wars. The First always found a way to win...

Suddenly Arnold laughed. If there were to be two Empires, so be it. All he had to do was to be the head of both. He activated several communication channels.

"Connect me to all the rebels. All of them."

If you want to fight the Empire, I will help you. But first, you will help me...

Arnold began filming the city. The video feed connected him to billions of Var Elegis. He raised his right arm, aiming at one of his generals fighting below.

"Long live the revolution! [Weaponry: Directed Energy - Gamma Surge]"

The light made the clouds, the traitors, the allies, and part of the city disappear.

Lvl up : [Armament: Directed Energy - Gamma Surge] lvl 34

META (AFFI) +2

META (END) +3

META (FOCUS) +4

The people must know who is the master.

Priam smiled. Claire had negotiated the asp venom for two cores. This was a 60% reduction from the price the merchant had asked for a few moments before. It wasn't the price of the cores that bothered Priam - he had over thirty cores in his possession - it was the form. Even a millionaire wasn't happy about paying fifty dollars for a Big Mac. Priam simply didn't want to get ripped off. There are no small savings!

He had stored the venom with its cores in a small purse which he had exchanged for another core. Since then, he kept it jealously against him while throwing murderous glances at those who looked at him too closely.

"If you keep looking at everyone like that, they're really going to steal from you," Claire said.

"Let them try..." If Priam shared anything in common with the dragons of this world, it was his greed. Priam was very fond of loot and treasure. But above all, he refused to give even one-hundredth of his fortune to a thief. Whoever wanted to steal his purse, he would steal his hand.

"Do you think there's a skill to creating a little space pocket where I can store all my stuff?" the young man asked. If Log-a-rhythm could do it, why not him?

"Probably," Claire replied. Priam's smile froze as she continued. "And I think there are skills to steal the contents of these space pockets."

"... I hate this System," Priam muttered.

"Unless you're the one stealing from other people's pockets," Claire laughed.

Priam's heart quickened. He did not say another word, but the sentence had not fallen on deaf ears...

During their walk, the two youths talked with a few other warriors willing to barter.

"We'll be breaking camp soon. Do you have any other things to buy?" asked Claire.

"... Underwear. I'm tired of everyone laughing at me."

Finding a vendor selling clean underwear took them a few more minutes. Previously, Priam had almost killed a man who tried to sell him the boxers he was currently wearing - Claire had to hold him back. Priam entrusted the young woman with part of his fortune and let her haggle. Priam looked at the salesman suspiciously for a few seconds before walking away. He had a few questions about the Tutorials difficulties, and Claire was doing better without him.

Approaching a nearby campfire, he traded a core for a new portion of roasted boar and some beer.

"Man is still amazing. Finding toothpaste and toilet paper is impossible, but you can drink beer on the moon," he muttered.

His neighbor laughed and emptied his mug before shouting. "Long live humanity! Long live beer!"

Priam emptied his beer in one gulp before pouring himself another. His neighbor did the same before turning to the young man.

"So boy, you looking to get drunk right before the fight?"

"Not really. My friend is making a deal while I'm trying to find answers to my questions."

"What questions?" the drinker asked. His tone hadn't changed, but Priam felt him tense. I'm not here for you, boy, don't worry.

"Not questions that concern you. I just wanted to know how people did after the Tutorial. Everyone has a different answer."

The answer relaxed his neighbor, and he began to drink again. "Honestly, there's not much to say. Some arrived in cities full of aliens, others in lost villages. Powerful factions briefly trained the lucky ones while the unfortunate ones like me struggled to find roots to eat..."

Priam nodded. The drunkard's speech sounded like all the others. Most of the men and women who had answered his questions were saying the same thing. Some had arrived in the middle of hostile terrain. Hostile for an average human but still pleasant compared to the hell that was Elysium. Suddenly, a thought struck him. In talking to people in the camp, he hadn't met anyone who had passed a difficult or easy Tutorial. Everyone passed their Tutorial on normal difficulty! At least, that's what they say

At the beginning of the Tutorial, the difficulty could be chosen. Reducing the difficulty was possible, but increasing it was impossible. Most players decided on standard difficulty, either at the beginning or after a near-death experience. The Tutorial advised against easy difficulty, but that was the only hint it gave.

There were three difficulty levels between 'normal' and 'impossible': difficult, perilous, and nightmarish. Priam had experienced a somewhat unique Tutorial due to his luck, but he was sure some humans had passed the hard difficulty. Where are they? Why do they hide?

The perilous and nightmarish difficulties were terrifying. One mistake and you were dead before you had time to run away. An unarmed human was not fit to defeat ten goblins. As for the Impossible difficulty... It wasn't even naturally present on the list. Priam had asked the Tutorial for the highest difficulty. He regretted that choice...

Claire chose this moment to return, and Priam summarized their shopping. After an hour of talking and haggling, Priam obtained a vial of venom, some food, and underwear. He hurriedly put on his new boxer shorts out of sight. They were a beautiful sunny yellow, and Priam vowed to protect them.

As he returned from behind a bush, he saw Claire waving to him. The last team had just arrived, and the order was given to break camp. With a piece of roasted boar in his mouth, Priam took up a position at the head of the column.

Two hundred and twenty-three humans began their march toward the Boss. The ever-present mist prevented the fighters from seeing each other, and the swirls of movement seemed to be nails sealing the fate of many men and women. The white cottonwood was absorbing an army. How many would come back?

At the front left of the procession, Priam turned and looked around the assembly. It's going to be a massacre...

The column slowed down as the night never seemed to fall. Priam had been there for about twelve hours. He counted them carefully because his [He Who Eludes Death] trait would reset in a few minutes. Smiling at his newfound immortality, he looked around at his neighbors.

During the Tutorial, some fighters had already specialized. Anne had asked the lookouts, rangers, and ranged fighters to take up positions. A request that sounded like an order to Priam. Their mission was to watch the Boss. Meanwhile, about thirty meters ahead of him, some fighters were finishing digging traps, trenches, and a pit in a natural basin.

"Attention, comrades!" shouted Anne as she climbed onto a mound made of dug-out dirt. "The objective is to trap the Boss in this hole and cover it with weighted nets. The spikes in the bottom will make it bleed and handicap its movements. Once trapped, the plan is to attack it from a distance. Those without a weapon or ranged skill will need to ensure the Boss stays put. Use the trenches to get close to it and move on. Any questions?"

Priam had many questions. With this mist, how could they ensure that archers and other ranged fighters would not harm their comrades close to the Boss? How will they divide the spoils afterward? Who will treat the wounded? But most importantly...

"Once trapped in the pit, I'm willing to step forward to fight. But who's going to bring the dog back here? Corrupt dogs run faster than a galloping horse, and my little finger tells me their big brother must be even more terrifying." A man in his forties had stepped forward. Around him, a group of about ten men, who must have been his comrades, surrounded him. The perfect macho. He must not appreciate being commanded by Anne...

"Excellent question Albin. Of course, I don't intend to give such an important and dangerous job to a team that could fail it. Five of my brave Amazons have volunteered to carry out this task. They will bring the Boss here without fail," Anne replied politely. This woman had a certain aura about her. No one here really knew what to do, but Anne gave the impression of having a goal, as well as a plan to achieve it. For those who had nothing, she was a beacon in the mist.

"You must have forgotten to mention the five other Amazons with them. Probably to 'secure' the Boss's cave after he left, right?" A deaf person could have heard the sarcasm in Albin's voice.

"... Indeed, some of my Amazons will also secure the entrance to the cave. To prevent theft and make sure everyone gets their share of the loot, if there is any."

And the fewer survivors there are, the easier it will be to share the spoils, I suppose... Priam didn't hate Anne. Honestly, he was even glad that someone charismatic was taking the lead in helping and organizing the other fighters. He had no intention of doing it himself. He was interested in the Boss and wanted to gauge its power. With so many people, he was pretty sure he could kill it.

Albin... Albin seemed like a small-time drug dealer who wanted power. But this time, Priam knew that Albin was trapped. He couldn't not send some of his men to check that the Amazons wouldn't steal some loot. If he sent fewer men than the Amazons, there might be unfortunate 'accidents'. Finally, he had to give the impression of being a charismatic and decisive leader if he wanted to be respected within this group of fighters. He had to prove himself.

Albin consulted his comrades with his eyes before taking a step forward. "Three of my guys will also come 'secure' the cave entrance. If you send three of yours as well, we will wait for the signal to attack. Deal?"

Priam sighed. It's funny; they're the ones making a deal, and the others will pay. Anne smiled.

"Deal, my dear Albin."

And with these words, the operation was launched.

About an hour later, the preparations were complete. The hole was about eight meters deep, and flame-hardened wooden spikes were at the bottom. The Boss could certainly jump higher than eight meters, but they didn't have time to dig any deeper. The first seven-meter soil was organic soil, typically found on Earth in plains. But from seven meters down, it gave way to the ancient lunar soil of regolith dust, then iron, titanium, and other metals. Digging deeper without specialized tools - even with superhuman strength - was possible but time-consuming.

Priam waited hidden behind a mound. Three banks had been raised from the cleared earth, and the fighters were waiting behind them in an arc around the hole. Three men controlling the direction of the wind or the scent stood in the center of the fighters to camouflage them. There was little wind on this new moon, but no one wanted to alert the Boss before it fell into the trap.

Priam had a bad feeling. The Boss was supposed to arrive any minute now, but the young man could no longer convince himself that this was the cause of his discomfort. He had always had good instincts - which had saved him dozens of times during the Tutorial - and he sensed something was wrong.

"Claire." The young woman waiting beside him turned around, "Yes?"

"I have a bad feeling about this. When the fight starts, stay here, wait a few minutes, and then flee toward the dome. I should be able to make it out alive, but... I might be the only one."

Claire first opened her mouth to protest. Then she stopped to think about the young man's words. She had seen him run at the speed of a galloping horse. Throwing back boars weighing a hundred kilograms with a single punch. If he thought he was in danger, then what could she do? The Tutorial had dashed most fighters' desires for grandeur and heroic complexes. The young woman knew she wasn't Wonder Woman. If she found herself facing the Boss, she would either die or force Priam to put himself in harm's way to save her. And in this crazy new world, death might not even end suffering. There was always worse, and she knew it.

"... Okay. Be careful." she breathed. "Always," Priam smiled.

No sooner had the word left his mouth than the System manifested itself.

New Quest: Predator - Baron

The Earth was conquered by man centuries ago.

During all this time, humans were at the top of the food chain.

Is this still the case?

Prove your strength by hunting the Moon Lord.

Reward (per Baron): Potential +20. Bonus depending on your participation.

Difficulty: Silver

"It's coming." All the warriors stood still. No one wanted to attract the Boss's attention before it was trapped. After five seconds, Priam heard the first barks covered by the mist. Ten more seconds and his inhuman perception began to pick up on the tiny tremor in the ground caused by the animal's run. Hidden behind the mound, the fighters stood perfectly still. Priam could see some of them becoming agitated. Fear was creeping up on them. All had read the difficulty of the quest. No one wanted to die. Suddenly there was silence. As drops of sweat began to bead on some of the foreheads, a cry rang out.

"ARCHERS! FIRE AT WILL!"

Status: (Average value for a Homo sapiens male before integration: PHY 10 / MEN 10 / META 0)

PHYSICAL:

Strength 62

Constitution 78

Agility 94

Vitality 113

Perception 68

MENTAL:

Vivacity 78

Dexterity 52

Memory 30

Willpower 48

Charisma 40

META:

Meta-affinity 8

Meta-focus 20

Potential: 73

Tier 0

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