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And then, suddenly, he saw it. The elephant's core, glowing with an ethereal light at the center of the beast.

The corrosive energy exhausted itself.

For a moment, it seemed victory was within grasp.

But it wasn't. The lance, stripped of its dissolving power, fell to the ground with a dull thud, mere two meters from the elephant's exposed core.

So close. He had been so close.

Elio's body moved before his mind could fully process the situation. He sprinted directly towards the core, his legs exploding into action. Every fiber stretched to its limit, his strength of 4 making his dash something to be feared. The carbon trembled beneath his feet, small cracks forming with each powerful step.

But that wasn't all. The core was exposed, and Elio shifted his fingers.

Having practiced the technique so much that the cost of imprinting a simple movement like this on the lance only cost him half a point.

Mana: 1.480.

The elephant, apparently recovered from the initial surprise, regenerated one carbon barrier.

Elio watched as his only chance at victory seemed to vanish before his eyes when the lance's tip impacted the wall. The screech of metal against carbon resonated throughout the chamber. It destroyed the barrier, but lost its momentum.

Was it impossible after all?

Another barrier formed, thicker than the previous one. Elio felt hope slipping away.

But even as despair threatened to overtake him, a part of Elio refused to surrender.

Fury, courage, and will.

He had come further than anyone would have believed possible. He had defied expectations, had brushed the impossible with his fingertips.

He still had one mana point left.

Could he somehow use that last mana point to close the distance?

The swift could propel him, but what good would that do? Initially, he hadn't been able to overcome the rate of barrier generation...

Elio was nearing the core when another barrier appeared. This time, he forgot about pessimism. Courage made him smile. Will made him invoke the corrosive magic right in front of him. He didn't have his lance? Throwing it wouldn't be enough?

"Fine"

Fury.

'If you're made of carbon,' he thought, a bright red gleam in his eyes. 'And want to play rough, then let's play rough.'

Mana: 0.480.

Elio bathed himself in his own magic, his skin burning, his flesh exposed and glowing red-hot.

The pain was intense, every nerve screaming in agony, but he didn't stop; he ignored it, focusing on his goal.

He impacted the wall at full speed, the magical energy surrounding him allowing him to pass through the new layers. The carbon melted before his advance, the air filling with the smell of charcoal and destruction.

With a cry of fury, Elio pushed his fist directly at the core, his flesh hissing from the corrosive energy.

The Elephant created a carbon cylinder right in front of its core, pushing its growth against Elios hand.

Elio could feel his muscles tearing under the pressure, but he didn't yield.

Mana: 0.320.

He concentrated the magical energy in his fist. The carbon melted in front of his knuckles centimeter by centimeter. The resistance was immense, like trying to break through a mountain with bare hands.

Mana: 0.160.

He focused on channeling the magic to his fingers.

Elio stretched out his hand, the tips of his fingers advancing more easily. Without thinking, Elio had discovered that: Smaller the area, higher the pressure you can unleash.

"Come on!" Elio roared, his voice raw with sheer will and insane pain.

Mana: 0.

The magic, now concentrated at his fingertips, almost destroyed them completely.

His fingers pierced through the last layer of carbon. The core was there, pulsing with primordial energy.

Without hesitation, Elio closed his mangled hand around the core. An explosion of light and energy flooded the chamber, momentarily blinding him.

The elephant roared, a sound that shook the enormous carbon dome. Elio screamed in response, a cry of pure, savage triumph.

With one final pull, he wrenched the core from its place.

The elephant disintegrated into a shower of carbon particles, its massive form collapsing like a sand castle in the wind.

Elio stood, panting, the core resting in his devastated hand. Blood dripped from his fingers, mixing with the swirling carbon dust in the air.

His body trembled with exhaustion and pain, but his eyes blazed with an unquenchable fire.

Burns covered his hands and face, the skin raw and blistered where the corrosive magic had touched him.

But none of that mattered. He was alive.

The taste of victory was sweet on his tongue, cutting through the metallic tang of blood.

He had won.

♢♢♢♢

In the main chamber of the privileged families.

Estin and Mordred waited in uncomfortable silence, exchanging nervous glances as they watched their father, Fathoran, who had just emerged from his training chamber.

The city's patriarch, despite his hundred years, looked surprisingly young and vigorous. Atop his head, sat the small white rabbit.

"Fifty mana points a day," Fathoran muttered. "Fifty years of intensive training, fine control over my five elements... and yet, after all the gains it still seems like leaving the city to you during that time was a mistake."

Estin and Mordred exchanged uneasy looks, the weight of their father's disappointment palpable.

"Father," Mordred began, his voice quivering slightly. "We've done everything possible to-"

"Everything possible?" Fathoran's voice cut through the air like a whip. "You call bringing our family to the brink of destruction 'everything possible'? Allowing a mere soldier to nearly incite a rebellion?"

Mordred stepped forward, his face a mask of concern. "Father, the situation was complicated. Lucien-"

"Silence!" Fathoran roared, his voice echoing off the chamber walls. The rabbit on his head stirred. "I don't want excuses. I want results."

The two sons instinctively recoiled, acutely aware of the dangerous ground they trod. Fathoran glared at them with disappointment and disgust.

Fathoran moved away from the window, his steps measured and deliberate. "Tell me," he said, his tone deceptively casual, "how do you plan to eliminate the hundred thousand this year?"

Mordred straightened, clearing his throat. "We've been discussing that, father. We thought perhaps by gathering the oldest citizens, those who no longer contribute to the tower..."

He couldn't finish the sentence. Fathoran's hand moved with blinding speed, connecting with Mordred's cheek with a resounding crack that echoed throughout the room.

Mordred staggered backward, his hand flying to his reddened cheek.

"Are you stupid?" Fathoran said, his eyes burning with fury. "Is this what comes of letting your mother educate you?" He turned to Estin, who took an involuntary step back.

Estin swallowed hard, struggling to find his voice. "Father, we-"

"Silence!" Fathoran roared. "Have you learned nothing about the importance of family?"