Utopian System

The imposing figure of Fathoran, clad in his black System's Armor, strode towards the exit of the central building.

His eyes blazed with fierce determination, matching the intensity of his most loyal followers who trailed behind him, armed to the teeth with the city's finest weaponry.

"The time has come," Fathoran announced, his voice a low, menacing growl that sent shivers down the spines of even his most hardened warriors. "We shall reclaim what is rightfully ours and crush this pathetic rebellion once and for all."

With a decisive gesture, he commanded the great doors to be opened. The massive metal structures groaned in protest, slowly revealing the world beyond.

Fathoran had braced himself for many possibilities: cowering citizens, ill-equipped rebels, perhaps even a feeble attempt at resistance.

'Should I start by taking their cores?'

What greeted him, however, defied his wildest expectations.

The sky itself seemed to ignite, a breathtaking yet terrifying spectacle of countless fireballs raining down upon them. Dozens, no, hundreds of flaming projectiles descended upon the entrance of the central building in an unrelenting cascade of destruction.

"Impossible!" Fathoran roared, instinctively recoiling from the onslaught.

The fireballs struck with earth-shattering force.

Had it not been for the indestructible nature of the building's stone, the very foundations would have crumbled in seconds.

The door, the sole vulnerable point, wasn't so fortunate. It disintegrated in a spectacular explosion of molten metal and charred splinters.

The sheer intensity of the impact created a momentary vacuum, sucking the oxygen from the area.

Fathoran found himself gasping for air that was no longer there. With a frustrated growl, he was forced to tap into his precious mana reserves to generate oxygen, each second burning through the points he had so carefully accumulated.

"Fall back!" he bellowed to his followers, his voice barely audible amidst the chaos.

As they retreated deeper into the building, a familiar voice cut through the din. Fathoran's gaze snapped upward to see Lucien standing atop a nearby house, his posture radiating triumph.

"It's over, grandfather!" Lucien's voice boomed, echoing off the walls. "We have thousands of summoners on our side! Surrender now, let your soldiers stand down, and we'll ensure you receive a fair trial!"

Fathoran's eyes narrowed, his mind reeling as he tried to process the scene before him. Beside Lucien stood Selene, another traitor. And between them...

"No," Fathoran whispered, disbelief and fear mingling in his voice.

There, flanked by the two Summoners, stood Elio. But this wasn't the same young man Fathoran had faced before. Now, he wore an armor that Fathoran knew all too well:

The System's Armor.

"The damned brat already got it!" Fathoran snarled, his teeth clenching so hard they threatened to shatter.

The realization hit him like a tidal wave of ice. Not only had he underestimated Elio once again, but now the young upstart had the backing of thousands of summoners and wore an armor equal to his own.

Fathoran retreated further into the building, his mind working frantically. All his plans, all his contingencies, had crumbled in a matter of seconds. The city he had controlled for so long now rose against him with a force he had never imagined possible.

"My lord!" One of his followers called out, desperation evident in his voice. "What are your orders?"

Fathoran looked around, seeing the fear and confusion etched on the faces of those still loyal to him. They had trusted him, followed him blindly, and now...

For the first time in centuries, Fathoran, the Founder, the man who had ruled from the shadows, found himself at a loss for words, without a plan, without a clear path forward.

The final battle he had anticipated had metamorphosed into something entirely different, and now he faced an impossible choice: fight against overwhelming odds or surrender and face the consequences of his actions.

♢♢♢♢

Minutes before…

Energy surged through Elio's body, the System's Armor gleaming with the power of a million mana points.

Elio Elian's Statistics

Skills:

Sacred Flame

Holy Water

Ice Sacrifice

Celestial Wind

Life Rock

Familiars:

Fire Salamander

Water Frog

Ice Rabbit

Wind Swift

Rock Elephant (+25 MD)

(1,833,231,150/10,000,000) Level 6 required

Level 5

Mana: 42/50

Resistance: 50/50 (+500)

Attack: 5 (10)

Magic Damage: 5 (+5)(+25) / (35)

Strength: 5

Defense: 5 (10)

Magic Defense: (5)

Speed: 5

Perception / Agility: 1.5

Superior Mana Spear / Attack 5

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

Balance:

649,752 mana points

1,833,231,150 cores

He had never felt so strong, so prepared.

Around him, over 10,000 new summoners shifted restlessly, their fire salamanders glowing on their shoulders like beacons of hope.

Lucien and Selene flanked Elio, their presence a testament to how far they had come. The moment they had all been waiting for had finally arrived.

"Are you ready?" Lucien asked, his voice low but steady.

Elio nodded, his gaze fixed on the imposing family building. "More than ever."

As they watched the building, Elio couldn't help but think of his mother and friends, still distributing cores in the wall. They were doing their part, ensuring every available soldier had the power to defend the city.

It had been Ren who suggested the bold move.

"If we already have over 10,000 summoners, why not surround the building now?"

The idea had been met with enthusiastic approval.

Now, as they positioned themselves around the building, Elio could feel the electricity in the air. Each summoner stood ready, their salamanders fidgeting, eager for action.

Suddenly, the main door of the building began to open.

Elio's heart leapt into his throat.

This was it.

Before he could react, Lucien and Selene shouted in unison: "NOW!"

The sky lit up with a thousand fireballs, all aimed at Fathoran and the building's entrance. Elio blinked, momentarily blinded by the brilliant display.

Fathoran emerged, his imposing figure framed by the doorway. For an instant, he looked surprised, his eyes darting around to take in the multitude of attacks surrounding him.

As the rain of fire ceased, Elio watched Fathoran retreat rapidly into the building. The door, the only vulnerable part, had been reduced.

Lucien stepped forward, his voice ringing with authority. "It's over, old man! We have thousands of summoners! Surrender, let your soldiers stand down, and you'll receive a fair trial!"

Elio held his breath, waiting for Fathoran's response. But only silence answered them.