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I was with..."

"Yes, Creator, 'family' is the most important,"

The echo of Elio's firm response reverberated in his fading consciousness:

"No! Seeking freedom is not betrayal. You betrayed the city, you betrayed us all by hiding the truth!"

"Every decision you make, every action you take, could be the difference between victory and extinction..."

His own declaration of intent haunted him:

"Then I'll eliminate you all together."

"I leave you with your people, Fathoran. Guide them, strengthen them, prepare them. Because if we fail, if the Goddess wins... there will be no second chance."

As the stake, now an unstoppable projectile empowered by Elio's own power, embedded itself in Fathoran's chest with devastating force, more memories flooded his mind:

"Well, they must level up, but don't rush, try to get the 4th or 5th invocation before attempting level 6, the difficulty increases... They also depend on numbers... Hmm... and more importantly, they must be united, like a family."

"Family?" Fathoran had frowned, confused. "What is family, Creator?"

"Ah, that well," God had scratched his head, seeming momentarily bewildered.

The words of God, once an unbreakable mantra, now resonated with a different nuance.

A hundred years of certainty crumbled in an instant.

The irony made him want to laugh and curse simultaneously. A century of sacrifices, ruthless decisions...

His mouth opened, but words no longer came out.

'I'm sorry, God,' he thought bitterly. 'But... couldn't you be clearer, you piece of...'

A solitary tear of frustration, rage, and regret, rolled down his cheek.

His last thought was a curse towards himself and the god who had chosen him, then... darkness.

♢♢♢♢

After the intense thunderclap, a sepulchral silence took hold of the room.

The held breath of hundreds created a dense atmosphere charged with expectation. All eyes remained fixed on Fathoran's lifeless body, the man who had ruled their lives for an entire century.

Some soldiers, still with the echo of the area attack threat resonating in their minds, remained on guard, their bodies tense and ready to react to any movement.

Disbelief mingled with fear; after all, Fathoran had survived things that seemed impossible before.

Seconds that felt like eternities dragged on with exasperating slowness.

Elio, still stunned by what he had just accomplished, kept his gaze fixed on the fallen Patriarch's body. His mind struggled to process the magnitude of what had occurred.

Had it really ended?

A groan of pain broke the spell.

Elio turned abruptly, recognizing Selene's voice. The sight that greeted him chilled his blood: Selene lay on the ground, her face contorted in pain, and where her arm should have been, there was only a bleeding stump. A few meters away, the severed arm lay inert, a macabre reminder of the battle's brutality.

Next to her, Lucien struggled to breathe, his chest rising and falling in an erratic rhythm that spoke of severe internal injuries.

Elio's eyes moved frantically between the two, panic threatening to overtake him.

'The System,' he thought desperately.

"The System will keep them alive, right?" Doubt stabbed his heart like an icy dagger.

He had never seen such severe injuries in a living person before. Would the System's normal regeneration be enough to save them?

Out of the corner of his eye, a flash caught his attention.

Fathoran's book, that object that had been the source of so much power and mystery, began to open by itself. Elio felt time slow down as his mind processed the implications of what he was seeing.

Fathoran's cores must number more than 10,000...

Also... The mana stored in that book probably surpassed anything Elio had seen in his life.

For an instant, he imagined what would happen if all those cores were suddenly released into the room.

The realization hit him like lightning: he had to act, and fast.

Without thinking twice, Elio launched himself towards Fathoran's body.

The release of cores at least announced with certainty the founder's death.

His legs, driven by adrenaline, brought him next to the fallen Patriarch in an instant.

Elio placed his own book next to Fathoran's.

The numbers in his book began to change at a dizzying speed.

In a matter of seconds, Elio found himself in possession of more mana wealth than he had ever dreamed of.

Just a year ago, a hundred mana points had seemed like a fortune to him. Now, watching the numbers grow exponentially, Elio realized how naive he had been.

Even the cores, whose existence he was unaware of until recently, now rested in his book in astronomical quantities... Fathoran's cores made no difference compared to what he already had, just as the more than half a million mana he had obtained recently made no difference to the mana Fathoran had stored.

Elio Von Elian's Statistics

Rock Elephant (+25 MD)

(1,833,305,517/10,000,000) Level 6 required

Level 5

Mana: 0/50

Resistance: 50/50 (+1)

System's Armor / (Defense 5) (Magic Defense 5) (Magic Damage 5) (Resistance(1/500))

Balance:

2,145,809,927 mana points

1,833,305,517 cores

As he watched in astonishment as his mana balance skyrocketed, Elio couldn't help but have some doubts arise. What would he do with all this power? How would it affect him? Would he be able to handle it in a way that benefited everyone, or would he fall into the same traps that had corrupted Fathoran?

Elio felt the weight of his new responsibility growing on his shoulders. He was no longer just a young rebel fighting against an unjust system; now he was the repository of power capable of changing the entire city.

Elio looked around, aware that all eyes were fixed on him. The room remained silent, but now it was a silence charged with expectation and, in some cases, fear.