Mordred frowned. "What about my grandson?"

"His behavior during an encounter with one of my soldiers was unacceptable," Lucien declared. "He endangered the life of a valuable resource and..."

"Enough," Mordred interrupted. "Kairos has already been reprimanded for his actions... directly by you, I might add. I see no need to discuss this matter further. Or do you think your judgment was insufficient, Lucien?"

Lucien clenched his fists but maintained his composure. He knew he wouldn't get a real punishment for Kairos, but he had to try. "Very well. Then I request that he be kept away from my training teams. I can't allow him to interfere with our progress any more."

Estin nodded slowly. "That seems... reasonable. A compromise we can all live with. Anything else, Lucien?"

Raelar, who had remained silent until now, stepped forward. "In fact, there's one more matter that caught my attention. I've heard rumors about a tenth Summoner in the making."

Estin's eyes gleamed with barely contained pride, a father's joy mixing with political ambition. "Ah, yes. My grandson, Marcus. We're about to get him the 100 cores needed. Once he obtains the salamander, we'll send him to the fourth level."

Lucien couldn't hide his surprise. "To the fourth level? But invocations have always been rewards for those who overcome the level on their own."

Mordred made a dismissive gesture. "Times change, Lucien. We need more power to face growing threats; you yourself helped increase the number of level 3 soldiers... Marcus will be the first to reach the fourth level with a pre-existing invocation to ensure his triumph."

Lucien exchanged a worried look with Raelar. This brought things to light significantly... about the cores and their growing importance.

"I understand," Lucien finally said. "I suppose this concludes our meeting. I appreciate your time and consideration." The words felt hollow in his mouth, a mere formality.

As they withdrew from the council chamber, Raelar leaned towards Lucien. "This complicates things. If those old men obtain 10,000 cores one day, they'll be a real problem," he murmured.

Lucien nodded gravely. "Yes, but it also gives us an opportunity. With control over defense strategies, we can redirect some cores and slow down the progress of their plans. It's not much, but it's a start."

As they walked through the complex's corridors, Lucien couldn't help but think about the uncertain future ahead. The birth of a new Summoner supported from the beginning, changes in established rules, the council's mana manipulations... Everything pointed to turbulent times ahead, under the elders' growing libertinism.

But for now, he had won a small victory.

♢♢♢♢

As the meeting concluded, Mordred slumped into his chair with an exasperated sigh. Estin, for his part, poured himself a glass of 1000-point wine before taking a seat next to his old friend.

The rich aroma of the expensive drink filled the air, a stark contrast to the stale atmosphere outside.

"That Lucien," Mordred growled, rubbing his temples. "He becomes more troublesome every day. If it weren't for his undeniable talent in managing the wall..."

Estin nodded, taking a sip of his wine. "He's certainly an insistent child. But we must admit he's made our work easier. If he can improve the defense as promised, we can reduce the allocated mana even further."

Mordred's eyes gleamed with greed. "You're right. We could increase the number of cores sooner than planned… But we needed those 6000 deaths to make space for the new generations. Speaking of which, how's your grandson doing?"

"Marcus," Estin replied proudly. "He's progressing rapidly in his special training, and we almost have the 100 cores needed for his salamander invocation. If fathers quota gets filled soon then…"

Mordred let out a hearty laugh. "Ah, if only Lucien knew... He boasts so much about his achievements, his 'merit', but he doesn't know the whole truth. The fool still believes in fairness and equal opportunity."

Estin joined in the laughter. "Indeed. The poor fool thinks we overcame level 4 by our own means. If he knew we had access to God's information and the first invocations before attempting it... His precious meritocracy would crumble before his eyes."

"Exactly," Mordred nodded. "Those projectiles from that damned bird at level 4 are too troublesome. Just throwing spears is a risk I’m not willing to take. The salamander's help will greatly reduce the danger for Marcus. We protect our own, after all."

Estin leaned forward, lowering his voice although they were alone. "And once we succeed in gathering enough for the level 3 invocation, the next step will be even grander. If we manage to accumulate 100,000 cores..."

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"Level 5 would be a piece of cake," Mordred completed, his eyes shining with anticipation. "Imagine the power we'd have then. We'd be practically invincible, just like..."

Both elders fell silent for a moment, savoring the idea of such vast power. Finally, Estin broke the silence.

"Do you think Lucien suspects something? He seems to be more inquisitive lately."

Mordred dismissed the concern with a wave of his hand. "He can suspect all he wants. As long as he has no proof, he can't do anything. Besides, he's too busy with his 'noble' efforts to improve the defenses. Let him play the hero; it serves our purposes in one way."

"True," Estin nodded. "And while he's distracted with that, we can advance the true plans without interference."

Mordred stood up, walking to the window overlooking the rock city. "Sometimes I wonder if we shouldn't just ask permission to get rid of him. He's too idealistic for his own good, he will surely be a problem next year."

Estin shook his head. "No, no. For now, he's more useful alive than dead, isn't he? His improvements to the defenses will allow us to divert more resources to our project. Besides, eliminating a Summoner would show that new mountain of lvl 3 commoners that we're not as strong as we claim."

"I suppose you're right," Mordred conceded, his gaze still fixed on the city below. "But we'll have to watch him closely. We can't allow him to interfere when we're on the right path to our goal."

Estin joined his friend at the window, observing the city sprawled before them. The sight of people scurrying about their daily lives, unaware of the machinations above, filled them with a sense of power.

"One day, all of this will truly be ours. Not just in name, but in absolute power."

"And when that day comes," Mordred added with a sinister smile, "not even him will be able to stop us from buying that potion."

The two elders stood there, contemplating their domain, their minds filled with plans and ambitions that would sacrifice countless lives for the sake of their plan.

The city, ignorant of its leaders' machinations, continued its daily routine in its oppressive, low-oxygen environment, unaware that its fate was being decided by the avarice of a few.

Meanwhile, somewhere in the city, Lucien continued working tirelessly to protect those whom these men saw as mere tools.

♢♢♢♢

God's exchange statues offered many things, most of them luxuries or equipment that common people couldn't afford with their miserable amount of mana.

But there was one statue, located inside of the families building in the center of the city, that surpassed all others in its offerings of exclusive and exorbitantly priced goods.

Here, one could even purchase large trees and the soil to plant them, a luxury beyond imagination for most citizens… Or even their knowledge.

The families controlled the central building, behind the great library, where this statue was located. Around it, they had an enormous garden covered by a dome, within which the air was much more breathable.

In this luxurious private garden of the Main Families, Kairos sat on a marble bench, his face contorted in a grimace of disgust. The beauty of the surroundings seemed lost on him, his mind consumed by recent events.

Not far away, his cousin Marcus paced back and forth, his impatience palpable in every movement.

"It's ridiculous!" Marcus exclaimed, stopping abruptly.. His voice echoed in the artificial paradise. "I already have more than 90 cores. Why can't they just give me the last ones? I'm so close... Can't they see how important this is for me?"

Kairos snorted, not bothering to look at his cousin. "Oh, shut up already. At least you weren't humiliated. You don't know what real frustration is… Also I waited many years more than you."

Marcus turned to Kairos, a mocking smile curving his lips. "Ah, yes. The great Kairos, defeated by a mere level 3 soldier. What a shame for our family."

Kairos's eyes flashed with fury. "Watch what you say, little cousin, Also it's Von Kairos for you. The only reason for my defeat was that I set the condition of a single touch. I would never lose for real. I may be punished now, but don't forget who I am. "

"Oh, I remember perfectly," Marcus replied, his voice laden with sarcasm. He began to tick off points on his fingers.

"You're the one who's grounded, the one who was beaten up by Lucien 'for real', the one who's locked up here while I can come and go as I please. In fact, I could go and take revenge for you if I wanted. You know, put that Elio guy in his place. Show him what real power looks like."

Kairos let out a bitter laugh. "You? Please. You're just a level 3. What could you do against someone who managed to touch me? You're all talk, Marcus. Always have been."

Marcus straightened, offended by the dismissal. His voice took on a haughty tone. "I have the best equipment mana can buy. With my max-level armor and weapon, I could easily defeat him. You underestimate me, cousin."

"You're still pathetic," Kairos mocked. "You can't even touch me with your spears, and Elio could reach me. A pampered kid playing at being a warrior."

Kairos's words ignited a spark of anger in Marcus.

Without another word, he turned and began to walk away, his mind already scheming plans of revenge. "You'll see, Kairos," he muttered to himself. "I'll show you what I'm capable of. And as soon as I get my salamander, you'll be the one bowing before me."

As Marcus walked away, Kairos remained alone in the garden, his thoughts darkened by plans of his own revenge.

"Enjoy your moment of glory, Lucien," he thought, a sinister smile curving his lips. "Because when I get my level 2 invocation, as my grandfather promised, you and I will be on equal footing. And then, oh, then you'll see what true skill is..."

The afternoon wore on, and the two cousins, separated by distance but united in their thirst for vengeance, continued plotting, each convinced of their own superiority.

Marcus, on his way to the training quarters, imagined the taunts he would throw at Kairos when he returned victorious.

‘Oh, poor Kairos,’ he mocked in his mind. ‘Couldn't you defeat a simple soldier? What a pity. Look how I, even being level 3, could do what you failed to achieve. Who's pathetic now?’

Meanwhile, Kairos sank deeper and deeper into his fantasies of retribution. In his mind, he clearly saw the moment when he would face Lucien again, this time with his new invocation by his side.

"I'll also show your protege what the true power of a Summoner is," he murmured to himself. "Lucien won't be able to protect his little prided soldier forever."