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Elio leaned forward. "What options do we have?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

Lucien paced, his mind racing through possibilities.

"Well," he began, choosing his words carefully, "I have access to approximately 1.2 million mana points, but that's designated for paying the soldiers and keeping the barrier functional. We could delay payments, but that might cause discontent among the ranks. It's a delicate balance."

Elio nodded, understanding the precarious nature of their position. He glanced at the book in his hands, the mysterious new page seeming to mock him with its potential.

"What about the soldiers?" he suggested, an idea forming. "We've given them cores, which are incredibly valuable, right? Could we ask for a small mana contribution in return?"

"It's a possibility," Lucien agreed, his eyes lighting up at the suggestion. "Each soldier has between 20 and 30 mana points daily, of which they use around 15 for basic needs and to fuel the city. If we could convince them to donate 5 points each..."

Elio's mind raced, quickly crunching the numbers. "With almost 100,000 soldiers on our side," he calculated aloud, "that would give us around 500,000 mana points. It's not enough, but it's a solid start."

Lucien nodded, a small smile playing on his lips. "We could supplement that with part of the reserves I have access to. Not all of it, mind you, we can't leave the city unprotected. But perhaps another 300,000 points?"

"That would leave us 200,000 short of our goal," Elio mused, his brow furrowing in concentration. He looked up at Lucien, a spark of hope in his eyes. "Do you think the citizens would be willing to contribute as well? After all, we're fighting for their freedom."

Lucien's expression grew serious. "It's risky," he warned, his voice low. "Asking women and retirees for contributions could make us appear just as oppressive as Fathoran. We need to tread carefully here." He paused, considering the implications. "But if we present it as a voluntary contribution for the city's defense..."

Elio nodded eagerly, feeling a plan begin to take shape. "We need to be transparent about this," he insisted. "Explain why we need the mana and how it will benefit everyone. No secrets, no hidden agendas."

"I agree," Lucien said, placing a hand on Elio's shoulder. "But Elio, remember that we still don't know for certain if this new page in your book is truly about upgrading your armor. It could be something entirely different."

Elio's face fell slightly, but he quickly steeled himself. "I know," he admitted, his voice tinged with frustration. "But I feel it's important. And if there's even a chance it could give us an edge against Fathoran, we have to try."

♢♢♢♢

Tarec leaned against the wall of widow Mira's house, his breath still ragged from the desperate sprint that had brought them here.

He rose slowly, feeling every one of his 48 years in his bones. With less than two years left before reaching his life limit, he never imagined he'd experience the worst day of his life so close to the end.

The smell of smoke clung to his clothes, a constant reminder of the nightmare they had just lived through. His eyes settled on his family, huddled in a corner. His wife cradled their children, their faces pale with shock and fear.

But one was missing.

Aram.

The pain of his loss was an open wound, bleeding with each beat of Tarec's heart. It had been mere hours since chaos erupted, yet it felt like a lifetime ago.

It had all started with a thunderous boom.

Aram, always curious, had rushed out to see what was happening despite Tarec's warnings.Then came the scream, that horrible scream that would haunt Tarec for the rest of his days.

When he flung open the door, the sight before him paralyzed him for an eternal instant. Aram lay motionless on the ground, and looming over him was the imposing figure of Mordred, one of the most feared Summoners. The smile on the killer's face was something Tarec would never forget.

Survival instinct overrode shock.

Tarec acted on pure reflex, years of training as a level 3 soldier guiding his movements. He slammed the door shut, shouting for his family to prepare to flee.

They barely had time. Flames began to lick at the door, the wood creaking under the intense heat. Tarec guided his wife and children towards the back of the house, his heart pounding in his ears.

It was then they heard the screams and sounds of battle outside.

For a moment, Tarec feared they were surrounded. But then, through a crack in the burning door, he saw Lucien and Selene, Summoners, one of which had guided him during his service, engaging Mordred and the others.

"Now!" Tarec had yelled, seizing the distraction to guide his family out of the house, breaking through the flaming door with his own body.

They ran through the chaotic streets, the sound of battle echoing behind them. Tarec didn't allow himself to look back, didn't allow himself to think of Aram. His sole focus was getting the rest of his family to safety...

Tarec closed his eyes, taking a deep breath to hold back the tears. Now was not the time for crying. He had to be strong for the rest of his family.

"Dad?" The soft voice of his eldest daughter, Lira, pulled him from his thoughts. "Are you okay?"

He forced a smile. "Yes, sweetheart. Just... thinking about our next move."

Lira nodded, worry still visible in her eyes. At 17, she had matured far too quickly in the past few hours...

A knock at the door jolted him from his dark thoughts. Instinctively, he moved into a defensive position, placing himself between the entrance and his family as they retreated to hide in a nearby room.

♢♢♢♢

"Tarec!" Widow Mira's agitated voice came after a few minutes. "You need to hear this!"

Cautiously, Tarec cracked open the door. Mira stood there, her face ashen.

"There are... there are messengers in the streets," she said, her voice trembling. "They're saying the families have fallen. That they've lost several summoners. They're calling for support for an uprising."

Tarec's brow furrowed. "An uprising? Against whom?"

"Against the founder of the families," Mira replied, her eyes wide with disbelief. "They say he wanted to massacre the citizens. That a new leader has emerged."

Tarec's mind reeled. The families overthrown? A new leader? None of it made sense.

"There's more," Mira continued, lowering her voice. "They say they're giving invocations to the soldiers."

That snapped Tarec out of his stupor. "Invocations? That's impossible. You need to be at least level 4 for that."

Mira shrugged helplessly. "It's what they're saying. I thought you should know."

Tarec nodded slowly, his mind racing with possibilities. "Thank you, Mira. I... I need to see this for myself."

He turned back to his family, briefly explaining the situation. He had to know what was happening, even if every instinct screamed at him to stay and protect his loved ones.

"I'll be back soon," he promised, though the words sounded hollow even to him.