The following days were a whirlwind of activity for Elio and his team.

The training field became their second home, filled with the sound of lances cutting through the air and shouts of exertion from dawn till dusk.

Elio watched with pride as his companions progressed.

Kriz had quickly mastered the recovery technique, his natural agility allowing him to execute maneuvers that even Elio found impressive.

Brok, on the other hand, compensated for his lack of grace with perfect symmetry and rapid shots, managing to throw the lances slightly farther than any of them.

Ren, ever analytical, had developed variations of the technique that Elio hadn't considered, such as rotating the lance mid-air.

Micah and Zara, though new to the team, were adapting rapidly.

Micah showed an innate ability for mana control, maintaining the lance's magnetism for slightly longer periods and from a greater distance than the others. Elio was starting to think Micah had been secretly practicing in his sleep.

And then there was Zara. Determined didn't begin to cover it. She practiced with a fervor that made everyone else look lazy in comparison.

Elio often found her still at the training field long after everyone else had left, probably trying to intimidate the training dummies into submission.

♢♢♢♢

While Elio's team toiled in the field, two figures discussed in hushed tones in a luxurious office. Two small frogs rested on their heads.

Von Lucien leaned over his desk, his eyes fixed on the man before him. "Raelar, the situation is more dire than we thought. We're not just dealing with incompetence anymore; this is willful endangerment."

Von Raelar, a man of serene appearance but with eyes denoting sharp intelligence, nodded slowly. "Explain… What fresh hell have our esteemed elders cooked up now?"

Lucien sighed, running a hand through his hair and nearly dislodging his froggy companion. The amphibian hopped onto the desk, looking mildly offended. "The elders... they've been reducing the mana in the turrets. One percent might not seem like much, but..."

"But it's enough to increase the number of cores they obtain," Raelar completed, his voice tinged with disgust. "How long have they been doing this?"

"Months," Lucien replied, his tone suggesting he'd aged years in those months. "And I fear the conscription suggests they won't stop there. If they reduce the mana even further, we'll be counting our dead by the thousands."

"And the boy, Elio? Do you think his technique can help reduce them?" Raelar asked.

Lucien nodded enthusiastically. "It's more than that, Raelar. Elio's technique could revolutionize our defense strategy. If all level 3 soldiers can learn it, we could forget the armor and equip all soldiers with lances. We could even upgrade to better mana lances across the board."

"Ditching armor sounds like a recipe for disaster," Raelar muttered.

"It's a gamble," Lucien admitted, "but if Elio can prove they can take down the monster before it reaches them, we could have a viable alternative. We could save thousands of level 2 lives, Raelar. No more defender squad fodder."

Raelar, who had been listening attentively, interjected. "If it works, it could revolutionize our defenses. Now I understand what you mean, taking them down before they reach us…"

Lucien nodded. "Exactly. And with the excess of level 3 soldiers we have now, this could be the perfect solution to optimize our resources. We might just turn this mess into a win-win."

♢♢♢♢

Back at the training field, Elio and his team were sprawled out like exhausted starfish after a particularly grueling session.

Zara approached Elio, offering him water from the fancy new reservoir that Von Lucien had kindly sponsored.

"Thanks," Elio murmured, drinking eagerly. When he finished, he noticed Zara staring at him intently. "What's wrong? Do I have something on my face besides exhaustion and regret?"

Zara hesitated for a moment, which was about as rare as a monster turning vegetarian. "Elio, do you think I'm ready for level 3? I want the truth, not a friendship speech."

The question caught Elio off guard. He knew this moment would come, but he still didn't feel prepared for the worst-case scenario, however small the possibility. "Zara, I..."

"Be honest," she insisted. "I've been training harder than Brok flexes. I think I'm ready. I can do this."

Elio glanced around, seeing his companions chatting animatedly, blissfully unaware of the tension crackling between him and Zara.

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Finally, he turned his gaze back to her. "You're strong, Zara. Stronger than I was. B-but level 3... it's not just a matter of willpower..."

Zara frowned. "Then what? You think I'm not smart enough?"

"No, no, it's not that," Elio hurried to clarify. "It's... complicated... There are things about level 3 that depend on luck, like the final attack, so, not to..."

"Why not?" Zara challenged, her frustration evident. "What else do I need to learn, Elio? If you're trying to protect me, I swear I'll use you for target practice."

"No, no, it's fine, you're ready," Elio conceded, realizing he was fighting a losing battle. "But at least let me give you the..."

Before Elio could finish his sentence (and possibly dig himself into an even deeper hole), an unfamiliar voice interrupted their conversation.

"So this is the famous 'magical lance soldier'. I must say, I expected... more."

Elio and Zara turned to see a young man, looking no older than 30 but with an air of superiority that suggested he'd been practicing condescension since birth.

He wore the elaborate robes of a Summoner, but what caught Elio's attention most was the small blue salamander resting on his shoulder (looking far too smug for a lizard), instead of the frog the two Summoners he knew, usually carried.

"Can I help you with something, sir?" Elio asked, instinctively straightening up in the presence of the Summoner.

The man smiled, but the gesture didn't reach his eyes. "Von Kairos, the youngest Summoner in the city. I've heard a lot about you, Elio. About your... revolutionary technique."

Elio exchanged a quick glance with Zara, who looked ready to introduce the Summoner to her fist. "It's an honor to meet you, Von Kairos. I hope the rumors haven't been exaggerated too much…"

Kairos laughed, a sound that made his salamander stir and Elio's skin crawl. "Oh, the rumors are fascinating. A level 3 soldier developing a technique that could change our defense strategy. It sounds almost... Unbelievable."

The emphasis on the last word didn't go unnoticed by Elio. He felt a twinge of irritation but strived to maintain a respectful tone. After all, antagonizing a Summoner was about as wise as challenging level 4 in the nude.

"We're still in the development stages, sir. But we're making progress…"

"Ah, yes, progress," said Kairos, his gaze wandering over the training field like a bored king surveying his domain. "Always difficult to measure, isn't it? Sometimes we need a more... concrete demonstration. Perhaps a juggling act?"

Elio felt a knot forming in his stomach. He thought he knew where this conversation was heading, but he refused to accept it.

Kairos, seeing that Elio wasn't taking the bait, decided to be more direct. Subtlety, it seemed, was not his strong suit.

"I propose a friendly duel, soldier. You and me, tomorrow at dawn when your mana recovers. An opportunity for you to demonstrate the value of your technique to someone who can... appreciate it adequately."

The training field fell silent, the kind of silence that usually precedes something either very stupid or very brave.

Elio's companions, who had been pretending not to eavesdrop, slowly approached, forming a protective semicircle around their leader.

The Summoner nodded, his expression turning serious. "Before you worry, I have a proposal. To make this more... interesting."

He pulled out two magical armors, their surface gleaming with intricate runes. "These are 10,000 mana point armors. They can resist 10 points of damage per day and give you 4 defense points. I'll use one and you'll use the other. See? It’s safe."

Elio blinked, surprised. "That means you'll have 8 defense points. My lance throw only has 8 Ata..."

"8, wasn't it a steel lance?" Kairos interrupted. "Well, it doesn't matter, it would only be 3 points of magical damage to the armor... Your challenge will be simple: manage to hit me once. If you succeed, I'll consider your technique to have merit."

Murmurs of amazement and concern spread among Elio's companions.

"And if I don't succeed?" Elio asked, feeling a knot in his stomach.

Kairos smiled, a smile that would have made a used car salesman proud. "Then it will be clear that your technique isn't as revolutionary as some believe. Do you accept? Or would you prefer to stick to impressing level 2 soldiers and small children?"

"With all due respect, Von Kairos," Elio began, carefully choosing his words, "our technique is still in development. Besides, it's designed to attack monsters at a distance. I'm not sure a duel with a summoner is..."

"Appropriate?" Kairos interrupted, his smile becoming sharper. "Or perhaps you fear your technique isn't up to expectations? Don't worry, I'll be gentle. I'll even tie one hand behind my back."

Elio felt the blood boiling in his veins. Kairos's words, laden with condescension, painfully reminded him of the Varick from years ago. Those humiliations, he had sworn never to allow again, not from the families, not from anyone.

He clenched his fists, breathing deeply to maintain calm.

I can't let it happen again, Elio thought. I'm not the same helpless child as before.

Then, an idea crossed his mind. With the 10,000 mana point armor Kairos offered, plus his own 3 defense points, he would reach a total of 6 defense points. Added to the 10 resistance points of the armor, it seemed unlikely that he would suffer direct damage in a "friendly" duel… Right?

Perhaps, Elio reflected, the summoner is right and this is the opportunity to test the true potential of my technique.

The level 4 monster, according to what Von Lucien told me, is something similar to a flying lvl 4 soldier… Maybe this is like a practice run, but with more sarcasm and less chance of being eaten.

With each passing second, Elio felt how determination replaced the initial fear. He would no longer be the child who let himself be intimidated. He was a level 3 soldier, leader of his team, and developer of a technique that could change the way defense against monsters worked.

He was basically a big deal, minus the fancy robes and smug amphibian.

If I back down now, he told himself, how will I look my companions in the eye? How will I justify the faith Von Lucien has placed in us?

At that moment, Elio remembered his father's words: "Sometimes, son, we must face challenges for which we don't feel prepared. It's in those moments when we discover what we're really made of."

With a resolution he didn't know he possessed, Elio stood up straight and looked directly at Kairos. "I accept the duel, Von Kairos."

A murmur of surprise ran through the group.

Kairos, for his part, seemed momentarily disconcerted by Elio's acceptance, as if he'd been expecting to spend the next hour mocking a refusal, but quickly regained his composure.

"Excellent," he said, his smile now genuine but no less unsettling. "Tomorrow at dawn, then. In the level 3 testing field. It will be... educational."

With those words, Kairos turned and walked away, his blue salamander gleaming under the midday sun.