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Fate Points - (Stubbed)
Chapter 323 - A Plan to Win

Chapter 323 - A Plan to Win

CHAPTER 323 – A PLAN TO WIN

Tom stared her down. He couldn’t believe she had asked for that and in front of an audience no less. “Evie, I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“The least you can do is ask the question.”

None of the others were saying anything. There was no support from anyone. They were probably as curious as Everlyn was. “The rules…”

“No buts, no falling back on stuff from the tutorial. The fact that you’re in mortal danger changes everything. Don’t you understand that. If you die, then the idea, the promise, that future you painted, the one that convinced us to abandon the safety of a larger group. If you perish with the details unsaid, then the dreams gone. Don’t get me wrong. I think I understand conceptually what you want to attempt, but I don’t see how to pull it off or the why.”

Tom glanced at the surrounding people. The questions he had previously asked had made it clear that disseminating the knowledge too widely would doom the attempt. “Well, how about rather than telling everyone maybe I can tell just you.”

She laughed. “No. That’s not enough. There’s a good chance I’m going to die, too. This trial is going to give the survivors of it almost a hundred levels. That’s huge. It’s the ability to not just survive in the underground, but dominate it.”

“A hundred levels isn’t enough for that.” Vidja commented.

Everlyn’s head snapped in the other leader’s direction, and then she glared at her. “Shut it. This doesn’t concern you. But for your information the area of the underground we were stuck in was very weak. The strength from the trial will be more than sufficient to ensure that we’d be safe there now. But that’s not important.” Her eyes switched back to Tom’s. “Those levels are a massive boon. We’re far closer to being able to complete the job, but we need to deal with reality. Unfortunately, the majority of us are probably going to die. We don’t know who, but the statistical outcome is pretty easy to predict. If we compartmentalise the knowledge and the key people don’t make it, then from humanity’s perspective, we risk losing everything. Please don’t be stubborn. Use a question.”

He licked his lips and tried to reconcile the current situation to his planning. “They’re too precious to waste.”

“They’re a tool to be used and we’ve been down here for over six weeks. You must have over ten saved up. It’s possible only one or two of us will escape. Whoever that is has to know everything. Please, just ask. One is nothing.”

She had a point. It was easy enough to imagine the losses suffered while they collectively attempted to kill the dragon and then the violence immediately after. She might not even be exaggerating. It was possible none of them would survive the gamble. But everything went back to what he established in the tutorial when he had oracle questions to burn. “You don’t understand. I spent dozens of questions on operational security and who I should tell. They all said no one.”

“That was then. This is now. Things change!”

“Tom,” Michael interrupted gently. “I think Everlyn might be right, or at least her reasoning is enough. The situation has changed. I reckon you should risk a question.”

He glanced around at the others.

Thor was grim faced, then he cracked a smile. “I’ll trust your judgement.”

Rahmat seemed almost embarrassed. “I agree with Everlyn.”

Toni, she was clearly in agreement with the others. As for Clare and Keikain, he knew what they thought.

“Fine, give me a moment.”

He shut his eyes and appeared in the system room.

Dead ahead of him was the single feature that was permanently on the metal walls. A red number that currently read eleven. In his mind all of them had been reserved to confirm the plan against the dragon, but with his True Dreams and the resonance his subconscious generated it was possible that they would not all be needed and mentally he reviewed the case Everlyn had made.

Her words and the conversation earlier. What would happen when the dragon died? How many of them would be slain by her and the insects before then? If the giant targeted them, could they resist? Maybe by outdistancing it? Potentially, it was slow. But it wasn’t just the giant. There was the wador as well, and they were designed for moving fast and hunting. Would they all turn on them? How accurate were her predictions? Or was it just fear distorting everything?

Mentally, he answered those questions and imagined that final confrontation. If it played out how he suspected it would, then how many of them were going to die?

Tom recalled the question he had asked before entering the trial. The one the others had designed to capture the risk they felt. As he did so, the book, the multiple paged pamphlet that captured the detail appeared in his hands. He didn’t open it, but he remembered the mathematical equations they had constructed to try to boil the unknown, the balancing of risk versus reward into a single question.

The answer had been that the benefit was worth the risk and Tom had a good idea of what that actual equation meant and could see how cold logic had brought them here.

What did a hundred levels mean? One of them with a hundred levels could easily have defeated the whole team pre trial. If even one of them survived, then while they would no longer be a team, that one person would have been stronger than the anaemic growth they would have achieved in the underground. Harry, Toni, Michael even if it was one of the weaker fighters amongst them, that singular survivor would be better placed to finish what he had started than the group prior to entering.

That was important, as his plan had been audacious.

Any boost of strength would greatly improve the likelihood of success.

If one person surviving this boosted the chance of his plan succeeding by a percent, then it probably justified the deaths of the other eight.

That realisation also meant that Everlyn was most likely right. He had to use a question to get clarity, but he also needed to ensure it counted. He had to guarantee that it improved humanity’s position.

Internally, he framed the question he had to ask. The complication which was Selena’s squad and Phil ran around in his mind. Was there any benefit in telling them? Should they be excluded? Or should he treat them as if they were warriors of humanity and tell them everything. The optimistic part of him thought that was the right decision. If Phil and Selena were aware of the tactic, then in the unlikely event Tom’s group failed then maybe it wouldn’t matter because the New Zealander could have completed it independently. Or in a bizarro world, maybe both Tom’s team and Phil could complete it and humans would get double rewards. The small boy in him wanted to assume that all humans would be on his side, but experience had taught him better. Jenny’s arrogance, her assumption of her superiority, Keikain, Sven and Clare’s choice to take the blood line they had they were all evidence of the mistake of assuming the best in others.

He had a duty to humanity to learn from what he had seen. He couldn’t afford to be naïve like Keikain consistently accused him of being. Those examples told him that even if all of their overarching aims were the same, how they set about achieving them differed.

Would Jenny conclude the concept was stupid and blab about it to the other races to get herself a better set of armour?

Tom thought that idea was ridiculous. Surely a human wouldn’t do that… But… and the fact he even considered that such a scenario was possible scared him.

Jenny… he could see her selling him out and the same with someone like Keikain. He would betray a stranger if he thought his own ideas were superior. Tom had proved himself so the earth mage would not betray him. But if an outsider? Someone Keikain didn’t respect pitched a plan? … If there was profit would Keikain stab him in the back. The answer was a simple yes and the earth mage would do it without hesitation.

It was easy to rationalise in a vacuum that every human would support him. But practically that wouldn’t happen. There was the small problem of human nature, free choice, and all that shit. Some people would either fail to see the larger picture or the truly evil ones would see it and not care. Those pricks would act in their own self-interest, humanity be damned.

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When he used his ability, he needed to capture the uncertainty.

How? He thought, and then he knew what he had to say.

“Should I tell those I believe are trustworthy about my plan?” he asked. There was no need to specify the details. The unspoken had long since been defined, including what he considered to be a success.

“Yes,” the almost forgotten voice of dux answered from behind him. Half of him wanted to spin around to catch a glimpse of her, but he stopped himself.

Yes. That was all she said but that would drive his next set of actions. There was no point pretending otherwise his team and Vidja’s were deemed to be trustworthy for this purpose.

He had to tell them.

But there was one last thing he had to do. If he was confessing, he needed to know who of the four possible species was the target.

On the wall, right in front of him, the four options appeared.

Latoona Empire.

Dominant Race: Wolfman (Zabta).

Civilisation. The Latoona empire is an offshoot of the Zabta species. It is highly organised and capable of rapid mobilisation to meet threats.

Average Citizen Rank: 17

Average Soldier Rank: 32

Racial Personality Bias. Aggressive, insular and will attack any sapients that encroach upon their hunting ground.

Tom remembered this option and all of the others now. The wolfmen had always been questionable, one of the least likely, because he had to target a species, not a civilisation It was likely his idea wouldn’t work on them because the section of land he was looking to conquer did not contain the entirety of the people.. From a species perspective, it was most likely considered to be only part of a wider whole. But he couldn’t reject them outright because, while unlikely, it was still possible that this offshoot of the Zabta might have evolved into their own species, at least in how they were defined for the purpose of racial traits.

His eyes skipped over everything else apart from the average soldier rank of thirty-two. Written like that it did not seem dangerous, but he was not fooled. That average was stronger than the creatures they currently fought in the zone, and they were sapient. Defeating a structured civilization where the average fighter was that strong would be difficult even after they emerged from this trial, but he had known that before they had started travelling.

Difficult did not mean he didn’t have a responsibility to try.

He read the next entry.

Kingdom of McBrides.

Dominant Race. Gnomes (Quizzacada)

Civilisation. This is the main empire of the Quizzacada species, but they have an extensive adventurer base and a number of smaller enclaves scattered over Existentia.

Average Citizen Rank: 14

Average Soldier Rank: 38

Racial Personality Bias. Exploitive veneer of legality.

At least this group was the main civilisation. Defeating them might be the equivalent of triumphing over the species. He didn’t know for sure, but if the oracle question set him against them, then Tom could see how that logic could work. His eyes kept searching and checked the last two entries.

Rabotaca Wildlands.

Dominant Race. Bite and Claw Trolls (Rabotaca)

Civilization. This is one of two wildlands that remain under control of the Rabotaca.

Average Citizen Rank: 52

Average Soldier Rank: NA

Racial Personality Bias. Will attack outsiders on sight.

SilverBell Kingdom.

Dominant Race. Eagle Gliders (SilverWings)

Civilization. This is one and potentially the last surviving enclave of the SilverWing race, however they have a significant presence in adventuring teams and breeding populations in most adventure orientated cities.

Average Citizen Rank: NA

Average Soldier Rank: 26

Racial Personality Bias. Welcoming.

Of the four options, Tom was almost certain that the one he was supposed to target was either the gnomes or the trolls. The wolfman and eagles seemed to have a presence that extended far beyond the geography he was targeting. The question was whether he went for the guaranteed two question solution or risked trying to get it first try at the cost of wasting a third question.

For a moment, he was paralysed with indecision, but decided that the benefit wasn’t worth the risk. “Is it either the gnomes or the trolls?”

“Yes.”

He swallowed at that answer and knew he should have gambled. That he should have gone with his gut instincts. “Is my target the trolls?”

“Yes.”

He once more read the full description.

Rabotaca Wildlands.

Dominant Race. Bite and Claw Trolls (Rabotaca)

Six legged, four armed, troll like creatures with an average mass of seven hundred kilograms.

Preferred combat style is burst ranged with magic damage followed by melee.

Civilization. This is one of two wildlands that remain under control of the Rabotaca.

Average Citizen Rank: 52

Average Solider Rank: NA

Racial Personality Bias. Will attack outsiders on sight.

That was his target. He read it once, twice, and then a third time. He swallowed heavily. His eyes were watery, but his cheeks remained dry.

It was not due to a lack of understanding. Currently, the task, the opponents had been distilled down to words on the wall. An abstract description of a people that once you were exposed to them, they would become far more complex. There would be parents, children, probably loving relationships and a broader supportive community, and they were who he was going to sacrifice to save his family and friends.

Not because they were undeserving, but because they were not the ones he loved.

Another blink and he was back in the trial with eleven pairs of eyes watching him. He sighed deeply still feeling the crushing pressure of his decision. Fighting monsters by himself was far more peaceful than the reality of the competition. “Let me tell you the plan.”

Everlyn’s hand went to cover her mouth a look of shock on her face. She had pushed for this, but clearly hadn’t expected the oracle to confirm the change in approach. “Are you certain Tom… Once something is said it can’t be taken back.”

“I’m sure, and if everyone hates me after it then so be it. Our target is an insular species. They’re trolls, physically about ten times our size with a bias toward ranged attacks. They’re also formidable, with an average rank of over fifty.” Tom glanced around. More than one person swallowed. They had estimates on the amount of experience they could get from this trial, and Tom was the only one of them that had a chance of reaching that high. A rank of fifty was not a hundred levels it was hundreds. To aim for a race that much more powerful than them felt like suicide. “The plan I created in the tutorial was to seize a species’ unique racial trait.”

There was silence from everyone as they waited for him to clarify the statement. They didn’t know what that meant.

“There are two ways to do that. Commit xenocide and wipe them out to a person.” There were gasps in response to that, and even Keikain frowned in a judging manner. “Or to successfully ritually sacrifice their leadership using regents worth hundreds of thousands for each victim.”

Vidja cleared her throat. “That’s a lot to take in…” she glanced around at the white faces surrounding her. “Um… I’m assuming these trolls were chosen because they are a terror race.”

Tom hesitated. “I don’t know… but I doubt it.”

No one met his gaze. He could see all of them, considering exactly what they had signed up for. He had made it clear to them that it was not a pleasant path, but none of them expected this.

Michael looked up and caught his eye. “My lord Tom, I knew it was bad, but really xenocide?”

“We obviously won’t be going down that path. It’ll be the second.”

Michael didn’t look away. “Something tells me that’s just a slower way of doing the first.”

Once more, Tom knew he could lie and pretend otherwise. That he could sell the lie and Michael and Keikain might deduce the truth, but the others wouldn’t. Unfortunately, the healer was right. Existentia was a harsh place and a species weak enough for them to have a chance of sacrificing their leadership would not survive without said champions. He looked down and wiped his cheap angrily. “Presumably.”

“Presumably!?”

“I don’t know.” He kicked the ground furiously. “I don’t know! All I know is that this path was the best way for me to maximise my ranking points.”

“You’re killing a species!”

This time, a tear definitely ran down his cheek. “I’m aware.”

“But why?” Vidja interrupted. “Is this stealing a racial trait something you can only do in the competition? Is it for the ranking points?”

Tom shook his head. It was more than that. He remembered how he had come upon this knowledge. After fifteen years, bored, he had read alien historical stories in the evenings. They were supposed to have been fiction, but a single throwaway line had caught his attention.

‘Can you imagine what we would have got if we had finished this to plan ten years ago? Instead of one strength every second level it would have been one per level.’ A statement he could have skipped, but it prompted him to ask an oracle question, then a dozen more afterwards.

“No Vidja. It’s not limited to the competition.” Tom saw that she was about to interrupt and he raised a hand to forestall it. “Each species can have two racial traits besides their own. If you get them after the competition, they come through at between a quarter and half strength, but over a population of billions you can imagine what a difference that could make. However, if you acquire it before, then you get the unmodified full-strength trait.”

“What do you…”

“Vidja wait. Let me finish. If you manage to earn another racial trait in the competition, you get the full trait… but the kicker is that the benefit doubles when you reduce the time. If you do it in the first half, you get two times, first quarter four times…”

“That means if we complete this within six months of leaving this trial, then it’s sixty-four times the original.” Michael interrupted.

Silence descended as they all imagined what that would mean. Tom already knew. In the example of that fiction, it would have corresponded to sixty-four extra strength per level. Another trait he was aware of was a fifty percent boost to the effect of agility. That would become a thirty-two times increase in the impact on the effectiveness of agility. That was not particularly useful to humans, but it would still be transforming. A human would never lose their balance again. The level of body control each of them would have would be unimaginable.

Tom didn’t know what the troll’s racial trait was, but the multipliers they were talking about meant it didn’t matter. It was possible it was an inferior version, and they were being sent after them because they were the only species they had a chance of subduing. Or the trait could be valuable. It was hard to imagine what the impact of a fate based trait multiplied by a factor of sixteen would look like. That was what they would get if it took them four years to make the relevant sacrifices.

“Tom, do you have any idea of how powerful this could make us?” Thor said finally.

He laughed and cried at the same time as he answered. “Of course, I do. It’s the only reason I’m prepared to pay the price.” Tom looked up and caught the big man’s eyes. “Are you willing to do the same?”