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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.

"Calm yourself, Lucien. This is a necessary move to bolster the ranks of our anti-breach troops."

"Bolster our ranks?" Lucien snorted, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "More like bolster our body count! You're sending 6,000 men to their deaths! Have you all gone completely mad?"

Mordred slammed a trembling fist on the table. "Watch your tongue, boy! You are not in a position to question us..."

"Or what?" Lucien's eyes flashed with fury. "You'll demote me? Expel me? To hell with the consequences, I'm sick of your games and manipulations."

He leaned over the table, boring a burning gaze into the eyes of Mordred and Estin.

"I won't pretend I don't see what's happening here, you manipulate mana for the towers and now… you're sacrificing our men as disposable pawns for your own gain! What purpose do you pursue this time? Is it for that coveted third level summoning you so crave? Or are you just bored and decided to spice things up with a mass sacrifice?"

A tense silence fell over the chamber as Lucien's words hung in the air, charged with accusation.

The leaders looked at each other, their expressions wavering between anger and consternation.

Finally, Estin's kindly grandfather act slipped for a moment, revealing the steel beneath. "Be careful of your baseless accusations, Lucien. You wouldn't want to… Lose your standing, would you? Remember who controls your mana assignments."

Lucien straightened, a sardonic smile playing on his lips. "Oh no, not my precious standing! How ever will I sleep at night without the approval of a bunch of crusty old men playing god? Threaten me all you want, I won't stay silent while you sacrifice thousands for your greed."

The room erupted into scandalized gasps and muttered threats.

"It's one thing for the necessity of the first two levels to sustain the city but this... This is madness. Tell me the truth, what are you really scheming?"

Lucien's words had struck a nerve, and the Elders were not used to being challenged so openly.

"Very well, Lucien, if you insist..." Mordred paused dramatically, letting the silence stretch. When he spoke again, his voice was laced with scorn. "This is the only viable strategy to meet your demands for reducing the defender squad deaths at the breaches."

Lucien felt his body freeze as the words hit him. The audacity of their hypocrisy left him momentarily speechless.

"You're... you're joking, right?" he sputtered. "Did I hallucinate the part where I told you that was due to a controlled mana deficit?"

Mordred shrugged indifferently. "We couldn't verify that, boy. Besides, some lesser lives are a fair price to pay for long-term solutions."

♢♢♢♢

Von Lucien returned to his office in a dejected mood after his fruitless confrontation with the Elder Councils. He sank heavily into his chair, rubbing his temples as he went over the blunt revelation they had ultimately implicitly admitted.

They were deliberately sacrificing lives, thousands of them, with the sole purpose of obtaining more monster cores. The idea was simply repugnant.

Lucien clenched his fists in helplessness. He needed to find a way to stop this madness before 6,000 families were left incomplete.

He needed a plan, and fast. As he slumped into his office chair, a lightbulb moment struck with the force of a rampaging monster.

"Farbe's strategy!" he exclaimed, startling his frog. "If Elio agrees to share his father's method... we might just save some of those poor soldiers."

If Elio allowed him to divulge the method his father had used to defeat the third level monster without specialized equipment…

Wasting no time, Lucien sent one of his assistants to fetch Elio. As he waited, another of his subordinates entered with a concerned look.

"Summoner, Lord Varick requests an urgent audience. He insists it is a matter of vital importance."

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.