Utopian System

Ren was in the middle of a mountain of records when the soldier burst into his office.n/ô/vel/b//jn dot c//om

The constant tremor shaking the city had knocked several scrolls to the floor, adding chaos to an already complicated situation.

"Sir," the soldier panted, clearly exhausted. "Lucien needs you to buy meta... metamorpho-something potions..."

"Metamorpho what?" Ren barely looked up.

His hands moved quickly among documents while organizing equipment distribution for soldiers preparing to depart. The reports from the last few minutes were concerning; the expedition seemed to be in serious trouble.

"I'm not sure, sir," the soldier admitted. "But it has to do with what Von Lucien did at the central statue with the blue core."

This caught Ren's attention.

He put the documents on the table, which shook again. Since they'd brought that supposed core, the entire city seemed to be undergoing some kind of transformation.

"You're saying Lucien used the core at the statue? And this potion he wants is related?"

The soldier nodded vigorously. "Yes, sir. I saw him transformed, which must be the reaction after drinking it. Though I wouldn't do it. It was like... like he was partially artromus."

Ren stood up immediately.

As the city's main mana resource administrator, he understood the importance of any new tactical advantage. If Lucien had found something that could help them against the artromus...

"Organize these documents," he ordered while heading to the door. "I'm going to the central statue."

♢♢♢♢

Lucien's sword glowed with lethal power as he prepared for the final blow.

Zantem's neck, already severely damaged from previous attacks, would be unable to resist another impact of this magnitude.

'Less than a minute,' Lucien calculated while channeling maximum power into the blade.

The transformation would end soon, it was now or never.

The attack descended with devastating force, tracing a perfect arc toward its target.

Victory was just inches away...

The impact resonated like thunder.

A new blade, wielded by a figure that had fallen from the sky like a meteor, interposed at the last second.

The weapons clashed with a force that created visible shockwaves, the blow's power so great that it sent the newcomer flying backward despite successfully blocking.

Zynthor stabilized in the air, his multifaceted eyes studying the opponent with disbelief and disgust.

This parasite not only had power rivaling that of true artromus, but also...

'Why?' The question burned in his mind while observing Lucien's transformed features. 'Why does this human try to imitate our sacred form?'

The crystalline wings, the layer over his eyes, the patterns on his skin, everything was a mockery of artromus perfection.

An imitation that should be impossible and yet...

The thought remained unfinished.

Lucien launched forward like an arrow, his speed even greater than before. No, he had no time for prolonged battles. Every second was precious, and the transformation would vanish soon.

His sword traced three consecutive attacks, each aimed at a different vital point. Zynthor barely managed to block them, surprised by the assault's ferocity.

'What kind of power is this?' he wondered while retreating from the intensity of the blows. Questions accumulated in his mind, but answers would have to wait.

The transformed parasite seemed uninterested in giving him time to reflect.

♢♢♢♢

Inside the artromus heads thoughts traveled at high speed…

'They forced you to transform,' Zynthor's mental voice resonated in Zantem's mind while blocking another devastating attack.

'Some parasites are stronger than we thought,' Zantem replied, his mental tone loaded with frustration. 'And this... this usurper has some power that imitates our sacred form. Must be that stupid god's work.'

The two artromus tried to coordinate their attacks. But it was useless, every strike was intercepted, every strategy countered.

Zynthor maintained his aerial advantage, his movements fluid and precise while attacking from different angles.

But Zantem, with his resistance severely diminished from the previous combat, could barely stay standing. Each impulse to rise threatened to consume what little vitality he had left.

Lucien's attacks gave no respite.

His sword found openings that shouldn't exist in their coordinated defenses, and each impact stripped away more points from their already depleted resistance.

'This is impossible,' Zynthor's mental voice betrayed his disbelief. 'You need to escape. I'll use my magic to cover you.'

But before he could channel his power, Lucien moved like lightning, interposing himself between both artromus, cutting off any escape route.

That's when they felt it, a pulse of power emanating from Lucien's summon.

The creature, which until now had remained passive as Lucien was conserving mana for his sword, began to glow with an unsettling light.

Zantem and Zynthor exchanged a look.

♢♢♢♢

Thirty seconds.

Time slipped away like water between fingers as Lucien evaluated his situation.

He only had one hundred mana points left, and if more artromus arrived, all the damage he'd managed to inflict on the first one would be in vain if it managed to escape.

'It's now or never,' he thought while channeling energy into his summon. If he could better control mana in this form, perhaps...

Perhaps he could achieve the summon transformation.

The toxic frog responded to its master's call.

Its body began to transform, patterns of never-before-seen bioluminescence dancing across its skin as it grew.

Lucien didn't lose rhythm.

He moved like a specter between the two artromus, his sword tracing lethal arcs that kept them constantly defensive while launching toxic clouds.

His new crystalline wings allowed him to match Zynthor's aerial advantage, denying any escape route.

Each strike was perfectly calculated, not just to damage but to control space.

Like in his battle against Elio, Lucien turned the entire battlefield into his weapon, systematically moving the artromus away from injured soldiers.

Fifteen seconds.

Lucien forced his magical power, his veins aching but it was irrelevant.

The toxic gas emanating from his frog began changing color, becoming more intense, more concentrated. Stay updated through empire

The summon, now several times its original size, pulsed with light patterns that seemed to follow some rhythm.

Ten seconds.

Lucien launched himself at Zantem, his sword charged with lethal power. It was an obvious opening, almost too tempting.

Zynthor did exactly what Lucien expected, interposing himself between the sword and his transformed companion, his own weapon ready to block.

The cloud of toxic gas burst from the sword and enveloped Zynthor instantly.

"TRANSFORM!" Zantem's desperate cry came too late.

Lucien's frog emitted a croak that resonated with unnatural power. The toxic mist, which had already begun corroding Zynthor's armor, converged on Zantem as well.

In a display of impossible speed, the transformed frog began jumping around Zantem using the toxic cloud as an extension of its body.

Each leap was precise, controlling and redirecting the corrosion it had created. Two hundred and eighty points of damage with each impact, the artromus's resistance crumbling under the coordinated assault.

Zynthor, distracted by the impossible spectacle before him, didn't see the final blow coming.

Lucien's sword traced a perfect arc.

The artromus's head separated cleanly from his shoulders, his multifaceted eyes still registering surprise as he fell.