A Novel Concept - He Who Eludes Death-Chapter 325: Challenger Approaching - Smash Bros Style

A woman with pointed ears gestured for the group of humans to follow her. Her photoshopped beauty and lithe silhouette might have squeezed Priam’s heart—had he not already encountered a dozen other elves in the last half hour. Despite Victoire’s presence at his side, and much to his shame, he couldn’t help but steal glances at the elf. The fact that his girlfriend was doing the same brought him a little solace. It was a safe bet that their attraction wasn’t purely physical—magic was at play.

Priam, Victoire, Alain, and a dozen humans were led into a grand circular chamber carved from a single block of stone. A massive opening to the south allowed sunlight to flood the room.

“Welcome, fighters,” the elf said, her tone drowsy. “You now have a chance to join the Mercenaries, one of the most powerful factions in this universe—and this sector,” she added with a yawn. “I'm sure you’re all proud of surviving your Perilous Tutorial, but let me be clear: that’s just the bare minimum to even get an interview with us. Should you leave here without a contract—and that’s the most likely outcome—I strongly advise against speaking to the recruiters waiting outside. Half of their factions want to experiment on you, and the other half will trap you in predatory contracts longer than the lifespan of an average universe.”

The elf’s speech threw a cold blanket over the humans’ enthusiasm.

“One by one, you’ll come with me and read out your Tutorial summaries and the rewards offered to you. Any questions?”

“What if we’ve already made our choice?” asked a man in his forties in an unfamiliar language, one Priam understood effortlessly. Likely one of the room’s features.

“If you’ve chosen without understanding the laws governing your new reality... pray you picked something useful,” the elf replied, her expression eloquent in its disdain for such recklessness.

Alain raised his hand. “What about non-combatants?”

“Is that your case?” The elf frowned. “Odd, the System usually sends us fighters... Are you accompanying one of them?”

“He’s my father,” Priam interjected.

“I see... We’ll handle that last, if you don't mind,” she said, conjuring a shimmering bubble around herself. She pointed at one of the men at random, and their subsequent conversation was contained within the transparent sphere.

Half an hour later, only Victoire, Priam, and Alain remained in the chamber. The young man stepped forward.

“Read me your Tutorial summary,” the elf instructed, “and don’t bother lying like some of the others.”

Priam opened his notifications.

Perilous Tutorial Completed!

Summary:

Adaptation Speed: Extremely rapid (99.9th percentile)Total Skill Levels Accumulated: 83 (99.9th percentile)Notable Kills—Aquatic: 18 (99.9th percentile)Notable Kills—Terrestrial: 31 (99th percentile)Notable Kills—Aerial: 6 (95th percentile)Notable Kills—Intelligent Species: 0[Aether Perception] Unlocked (One of 27 worldwide)[Aether Manipulation] Unlocked (One of 14 worldwide)Two Titles Unlocked: [Rune Creator], [Apprentice Aetherist]Objective Achieved in 2 days, 12 hours, 15 minutes, and 4 secondsBonus Aether Harvested: 0.2gEvaluation: Legendary

Rewards (Perilous - Legendary):

Attribute Evolution: Meta(Affinity) (Oneiric)

or[Ideal Kinetic Control - Epic]As Priam recited the summary, the elf’s drowsiness evaporated. By the end, she was staring at him with a stunned expression.

“[Rune Creator]? By the Concepts’ balls, how did you manage to create a rune that soon?!”

Priam shrugged. “I just... had a revelation.” One morning, he had woken up with the rune etched into his memory. It was strange, but there wasn’t much else to say. “Do you have any advice on which reward to choose?”

“Attribute evolution is always valuable,” she replied, “but an Epic Ideal skill is a fast track to Tier 3.”

“What’s that?”

The elf’s laughter was as enchanting as the rest of her. “I forget how little you know,” she said once she’d composed herself. “We’ll discuss that later. For now, just know this: the Mercenary Guild is known for its honesty with its own. So I’ll be frank: out of everyone I’ve seen today, you’re the only one the Guild will accept as a candidate—regardless of which reward you choose.”

“Candidate?”

“Did you think we’d accept someone based solely on a Tutorial summary?” she said, a smirk playing on her lips. “You’ll undergo training until your Reunion. At the end of this trial period, we’ll decide whether to take you on.”

The Mercenaries had high standards.

“Back to your rewards,” the elf continued. “If you want to become a warrior, one of these options is clearly superior. I’ve never heard of Oneiric—the specialty of your evolution—but an adjective about dreams doesn’t sound particularly violent. On the other hand, [Ideal Kinetic Control]...”

Fatigue and the elf’s undeniable charisma made Priam want to trust her. The skill sounded exceptional: offensive, defensive, utilitarian—it had the makings of a versatile ability. And the word “Ideal” appealed to him. If the System was offering these two options, they were likely of similar value, but one leaned toward Aether affinity and the other toward kinetic mastery. While Priam loved magic, his dreams of freedom and adventure demanded the ability to defend himself.

As he prepared to make his choice, the world froze.

[Override.]

An otherworldly force took control of his body, selecting the Attribute Evolution against his will. Horror and outrage surged through Priam as the robotic voice spoke again in his mind:

[Accessing [Ultimate Sensory Memory]. Modifying host memory.]

“Well?” the elf asked, snapping Priam out of his trance.

“Sorry, I was... spacing out,” he stammered. “I went with the Attribute Evolution. It felt... right,” he tried to justify himself.

The elf shrugged, her bored expression returning. “Meet me at sunrise tomorrow for the start of your training.”

The rest of Priam’s first day on this new planet was far from enjoyable. While Victoire was also accepted into the Mercenaries, Alain was not. Finding a place for his father proved difficult.

“We might be interested in an architect from a new civilization, but yours is too old,” one firm near the Guild’s headquarters said dismissively.

In Gaia’s wealthy quarter, no one needed the services of an elderly man, and without money, Alain couldn’t travel to a more accommodating area.

In the end, Priam gave his father his own bed in the dormitory the Mercenaries had assigned to humanity. He spent the night in the library, poring over books about the System until exhaustion claimed him.

The next morning, Priam shuffled into the cafeteria before dragging himself to the training grounds. Alongside other Perilous candidates, he endured a grueling battery of tests administered by the sleepy elf who had greeted them the previous day. Motor skills, balance, innate dexterity, martial knowledge—no aspect of their abilities was overlooked. Then came the sparring matches, both unarmed and with mock weapons.

Contrary to his expectations, Priam didn’t particularly shine. Against young karate enthusiasts, MMA champions, and special forces soldiers, he lost every bout. According to Oly—the elf’s name—he had talent, but he was starting from too far behind. Worse, while every defeat taught him something, the growing collection of bruises and his throbbing headache prevented him from compiling his lessons into progress.

Priam won only two matches: one against Victoire and another against a blind fighter, leaving him at the bottom of the rankings.

“You okay?” asked a young woman after landing a brutal kick to his head.

Priam staggered to his feet, swallowing his wounded pride. A hand reached out to steady him.

“My name’s Maya. If you want, I can show you a few tricks.”

That night, dozing off in a library chair, Priam had to fight off tears. This wasn’t how he had imagined his new life. The harsh reality of his own inadequacies cut deep, and he cursed his weakness before sleep finally claimed him.

The following day was dedicated to magic. Their instructor was the spectral figure of a humanoid creature, roughly the size of a child. It conjured a storm of energy points before the humans, invisible to their basic senses.

Only four individuals with [Aether Perception] could continue the evaluation, the rest forced to spend their Potential to unlock the skill. Gradually, the specter lowered the intensity of its projected energy until only Priam and Victoire could perceive it. When it came time to manipulate their own aether, Priam was left standing alone.

Surprised and intrigued, the specter subjected him to a series of increasingly demanding exercises: creating an aether cloud, reclaiming control of it, weaving it into a rope, condensing it, and finally, crafting a rune. To the astonishment of everyone present, Priam aced each challenge.

When Priam’s Gale rune summoned a gust of wind that swirled around him, his fellow humans broke into applause. The instructor, however, stared at him with visible shock.

Frustration and doubt melted away from Priam as he witnessed the awe in their eyes. Who needed a perfect roundhouse kick when the elements bent to your will?

As is often the case after a home run, life threw Priam a curveball.

“I can’t stay here,” Alain announced over dinner.

“Where would you go?” Victoire asked, concern evident in her tone.

“I don’t know. But staying cooped up in this dorm isn’t a long-term solution,” Alain replied. “My son needs his bed.”

Priam clenched his fists. “I know. Wait until after the Reunion, okay? If I do well, I’ll have access to personal housing, and then—”

“I don’t want to trade one cage for another, son. I want to work. I may be old, but I’m not useless. Let me keep my pride.”

For once, Priam had no words.

Before dawn the next day, Priam trained with Maya, focusing on physical combat. She remained tight-lipped about her past, but her martial prowess was undeniable.

“The position of captain will come down to you and me,” she said as Priam caught his breath. “If you win, you’ll get your own living quarters. You’ll be able to house your father.”

“And?”

“I can let you have it,” Maya offered.

Priam raised his head, narrowing his eyes. “Why?”

“The others think you’ll be a great magician.”

“Not you?”

Maya shook her head, her blonde hair swaying. “I saw the way our magic instructor looked at you yesterday. Behind the surprise was fear. You’re going to be someone, Priam.”

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With renewed resolve, Priam stood and resumed his combat stance. A Gale rune appeared on his palm. Despite the dim light, determination blazed in his hazel eyes. “If I’m going to become captain, I’ll earn it.”

The morning was a grueling combination of duels, drills, and operations. The Mercenaries pushed the candidates to their limits, employing Tier 4 healers to maim, asphyxiate, drain blood, and extract organs from them.

“Normally, we wait until after the first Reunion for this,” Oly explained, her smile betraying a hint of sadism. “But your racial Talent is too valuable to waste. Enjoy your new Titles—you’ve earned them.”

Titles won!

[Axolotl or Hydra - Bronze]

[Bloodless - Bronze]

[Heartless - Bronze]

[Breathless - Bronze].

Five titles unlocked: Trees of Merit Unlocked!

You have gained the skill: [Cut Resistance - Common].

You have gained the skill: [Blunt Resistance - Common].

You have gained the skill: [Perforation Resistance - Common].

You have gained the skill: [Hemorrhage Resistance - Common].

You have gained the skill: [Asphyxia Resistance - Rare].

You have gained the skill: [Nightmare Resistance - Rare].

[Nightmare Resistance] - Guardians of sleep, mediators of emotions, and outlets for thoughts; dreams serve many purposes. Yet, who hasn’t pinched themselves to check if they weren’t dreaming? Who hasn’t woken up screaming after being chased by a naked mother-in-law?

This skill helps you stay lucid during a nightmare, realize the deception, and find the inconsistencies in the narrative to take control back.

Remember: a spinning top doesn’t always mean you’re dreaming. Sometimes, it’s just a frictionless toy.

WILL +1

MEM +1

CHAR +1

Upon waking from anesthesia, Priam blinked once before sitting upright.

“Your eyes,” Victoire called out. “They’ve changed.”

Priam turned to face a nearby mirror. One pupil was shrouded in mist, the other black as a moonless night. Surrounding the darkness, a golden ring shimmered like a solar eclipse. A single drop of blood traced a line down his cheek.

When Victoire returned with a handkerchief to wipe the tear, Priam’s eyes had reverted to their usual hazel.

He scanned through his list of notifications. The string of new resistances was chilling. A brief conversation with his team revealed that he was the only one to have unlocked the last resistance—likely a reaction to the anesthesia.

The afternoon was once again dedicated to mastering aether. When a man questioned the utility of such a skill for a warrior, the instructor explained that [Aether Perception] significantly increased the chances of one’s soul resonating with a Concept. That alone was enough to convince the group.

For six hours, Priam threw himself into the training with unrelenting focus. Where martial arts offered immediate feedback, magic required a solid foundation. The spectral instructor had warned them that it would take months before they could wield it effectively in battle. Priam didn’t have that luxury. The Reunion loomed ahead, a crucible that would separate the wheat from the chaff. Motivated by recent defeats, Priam pursued the arcane with a vengeance, following the specter’s guidance.

While the others struggled to perceive the magical fabric of the world, Priam summoned rune after rune, sometimes two at a time. He refined their size, accelerated their formation, and optimized their channeling capabilities. His innate talent for aether manipulation, coupled with the evolution of his Meta Affinity, gave him wings. Progress came at a blistering pace, and obstacles crumbled before him. Every rune, sigil, or formation suggested by the instructor was analyzed, understood, and replicated. Any information related to aether was absorbed effortlessly. Simple calculations benefited from his new high vivacity, while complex ones were delegated to his gift.

[Lvl Up: [High Aether Manipulation] lvl 14, 15

META (Affinity) +6

META (Focus) +6

META (Endurance) +6]

By evening, as the instructor packed up his materials, Priam stunned the class by conjuring a ball of electricity the size of a basketball. With a vector rune in his right hand, he launched the plasma orb forward. The incandescent projectile slammed into the wall with the force to topple an elephant, leaving his audience slack-jawed. One teammate burst into laughter.

“Months, huh? He cracked it in under three days! Pay up, suckers,” Luc crowed.

That night, Priam fell asleep smiling.

Lvl Up : [Nightmare Resistance] lvl 2

WILL +1

MEM +1

CHAR +1

At dawn, Priam felt the Tribulations pressing against his consciousness, trying to lull him back into oblivion. Despite the aid of his add-on and new resistance, he wasn’t yet alert enough to activate [Tribulation Hunter] and pinpoint the ordeal’s weakness. Instead, he seized the moment of clarity to gather a few fruits as he had done in the erased timeline.

Trees of Merit

[Apprentice Aetherist] - Tier 0: Allows you to simulate the effect of a rune or ritual in your mind - depends on Memory and Vivacity. ACQUIRED

[Apprentice Aetherist] - Tier 1: Allows you to store a rune in a spiritual library and duplicate it infinitely. Ten slots available. ACQUIRED

[Apprentice Aetherist] - Tier 2: Allows you to create a link between your runes and your soul, forcing interlopers to breach your spiritual defenses first. ACQUIRED

[Apprentice Aetherist] - Tier 3: Allows you to imprint your runes into reality. ACQUIRED

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[Apprentice Aetherist] - Tier 4: LOCKED.

2 Unused Merit Points.

“Let’s see what these Merits have in store for me. And this attribute evolution… One of the prerequisites for [Ideal Aether Manipulation], right ?”

Priam arrived at training the next day, having spent almost all his Merit Points.

“... Haven’t you ever heard the saying about haste and waste, Mr. Priam?” the specter chided.

“Professor. Did I screw up?”

“Not entirely,” the specter grunted before launching into a lecture on the fundamentals of Merits.

One detail caught Priam’s attention.

“You can alter your Merits with Potential, but they’ll never be as potent as the original ones? Why?”

His insatiable curiosity was flaring.

“No one knows. Some texts hint at a connection to the Titles they’re tied to, but there’s no proof. Now, let me demonstrate: store this rune in your library.”

A cryptic rune appeared before Priam. As he copied it, his eyes widened. A moment ago, its purpose was a mystery. Now, he knew it could transmute mercury into gold. The efficiency was abysmal, but he held the dream of every alchemist in his hands.

“In addition to what the System specifies, the second Merit of [Aetherist] has a hidden ability to analyze absorbed runes. The third helps you sense your soul when your rune authority is contested—handy for developing a Domain. The fourth extends your runes’ lifespan by allowing them to draw from ambient aether.”

Priam spent the rest of the afternoon testing his new abilities, measuring the endurance of his soul against that of his instructor. He was crushed every time, but each defeat revealed something new. As the lesson drew to a close, the specter offered a word of caution.

“Don’t push your soul too hard. It’s fragile, and even the smallest scar could turn you into an enemy of the System.”

“An enemy of the System?” Priam asked, raising an eyebrow.

“I’m not one for superstition,” the specter admitted, voice lowering, “but we don’t talk about those things. If you want to know more, read the biography of Zelgius the Apocryphal.”

That evening, Priam left the library and made his way to the human dormitory.

“I was waiting for you,” Maya said with a grin.

On nearby benches, future Mercenaries sat in silence, awaiting the election of their captain. Tomorrow was departure day, and they needed a leader. Victoire offered Priam a warm smile, Luc gave him a thumbs-up, and Alain acknowledged him with a nod.

The two competitors moved to opposite sides of the courtyard and awaited Oly’s signal. As their martial instructor, the Mercenary oversaw the duel.

“Begin!”

Maya exploded into action like a cheetah, aiming to end the fight before her opponent could respond.

Priam had planned for this. Pressing his thumb and forefinger together, he connected two tattooed complementary parts of the same rune and activated it. A kinetic shield materialized around him, absorbing Maya’s punch.

Without wasting a second, Priam accessed his mental library and selected a spatial rune. The air shimmered, and the two combatants swapped places in an instant.

Maya looked around, stunned to find herself trapped in a kinetic prison.

“You came prepared,” she admitted, catching her breath. Then, she pointed at the ground. “But so did I.”

Priam glanced down and spotted a mine beneath his feet. In the split second before detonation, he considered switching places with Maya but dismissed the idea—she had likely trapped the prison as well. Summoning a Gale rune, he channeled its power toward the impending explosion while activating the kinetic protection rune tattooed on the back of his neck.

The shockwave struck his skin without leaving so much as a scratch, and the flames fought against the gale he had unleashed.

The wind faltered, and unbearable heat enveloped Priam. The spectators screamed, but the main character remained silent. Encased in a blossoming inferno, Priam found himself staring into the heart of the flames. He saw not destruction but purpose as fire was death for its enemies and life for its creator.

Your love warms those who understand you, and your wrath burns those who disrespect your boundaries. We’re the same.

Priam saw the fire, and the fire saw Priam. The Concept acknowledged his peer.

The flames coalesced into an orb in Priam’s hand as he emerged unscathed. He locked eyes with Maya.

“I concede.”

“Priam is the humans’ captain,” Oly declared. While the humans cheered, the elf approached the victor. “Someone wants to see you.”

“Who?”

“Wang Lin, our leader.”

Lvl Up : [Nightmare Resistance] lvl 3

WILL +1

MEM +1

CHAR +1

[Chimera - Legendary] is ready for evolution. Presence of a catalyst detected.

Use 10 870 POT to trigger evolution?

Lvl Up: [Thick Blood] lvl 15

VIT +3

Lvl Up: [Adaptive Golden Meridians] lvl 21, 22, 23

META (Focus) +9

META (Endurance) +18

Lvl Up: [Spirit Resistance] lvl 24, 25

WILL +6

Reflected flames danced in Priam’s eyes as he opened them. Far below, Arkana burned. Thanks to his draconic dual train of thought, the Champion could both dream and be—temporarily—awake.

Without hesitation, Priam synchronized his memories with those stored in his add-on and grimaced. His body was in shambles, his right eye bleeding both blood and aether; [Chimera] wasn’t evolving quickly enough to save him.

“Damn Hecate’s New Moon. The Colosseum really screwed me with that reward...”

Only two options remained: wait for death and rely on [He Who Eludes Death] to force a truce between the warring powers inside him, or fan the flames of discord even higher.

The Juggernaut thrived in chaos.

Sensing the Tribulations’ attention, Priam connected with the spark orbiting his soul and embraced Unity with Pyro.

Status:

PHYSICAL:

Strength 893

Constitution 1 434

Agility 1 194

Vitality 1 332 (+6)

Perception 865

MENTAL:

Vivacity (D) 599

Dexterity 760

Memory 907 (+5)

Willpower 1 128 (+12)

Charisma 751 (+6)

META:

Meta-affinity 1 024 (+8)

Meta-focus 584 (+16)

Meta-endurance 970 (+35)

Meta-perception 541

Meta-chance 616

Meta-authority 453

Potential: 27 738 (+27)

Tier 0

Sun points: 1 143 444

[He Who Eludes Death] charge: PRIMED.

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