Yerin unfurled the map and laid it across the table. Ruvian leaned forward, shadows from the lantern catching the sharp edges of his face, and pressed a finger to the center of the map.

“Let’s talk about the Holder first.” He said calmly. “There are a dozen ways to approach this test, maybe more. But most teams… they fall into the same pattern. They hand the bracelet to their strongest fighter without hesitation.”

“It’s simple and makes sense. A stronger Holder is a lot harder to take down. But we don't need to take down the Holder to steal the point. Just a touch, and if the guess is correct, the point will be transferred immediately. This is exactly why it’s a problem... a flaw in this method."

Arlok frowned, confused, not yet convinced. “I can see that, but… Isn’t that the point? If your Holder’s a monster, wouldn’t that scare the rest off?”

Ruvian tapped the map again, softer this time. Not to emphasize, but to draw them in.

“Well, think about it. There’s no limit to how many times the points can be stolen in a day. The only restriction is that attackers get one guess per squad. So what happens when the choice is obvious? What happens when every rival team knows that it was you, the Holder?”

The slow weight of understanding was beginning to turn its wheels among them.

“All attackers from every team could just…” Horren’s voice came slowly. “They’d swarm the Holder.”

Ruvian nodded with satisfaction. “Exactly. If the Holder is predictable, the enemy doesn’t need to waste time searching or spreading their efforts. They just have to coordinate. Also, four attackers, all making the correct guess, hitting at once. That’s not just 25 Points stolen.” His voice was low and all the more brutal for its simplicity.

Arlok’s brows lifted, sharp with the beginning of understanding, but the words came out blunt, unfinished. “So that’s—”

“A 100 points lost,” Yerin cut in. She finally understood that the consequences were no longer theoretical but dangerously close. No matter how strong the Holder, once their identity is exposed, it will become harder for them. It was, in fact, easier to touch an opponent's bracelet than beat them up.

“I agree, the 100 points would be gone in just a single, well-executed strike.” Shima’s eyes softened with revelation. “Then, that means… there’s another strategy some teams might use, right?” She added.

But it wasn't Ruvian who explained it; he saw that Yerin was about to voice out her opinion, so he let her go first.

Yerin leaned forward as the conclusion was obvious now. “Yes, I think there is. Instead of making their strongest the Holder, they could flip the approach — keep the bracelet away from the frontlines, tuck it somewhere safe, hand it to someone who won’t be noticed, while the rest focus on gathering points from hunting Voidspawn or from other teams.”

Ruvian gave a slight nod, nothing more than a quiet prompt, but there was no need to push her further; Yerin was already thinking ahead, and now her words came steadier, the edge in them sharpened by certainty rather than theory.

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“But… that plan has holes too,” she said.

“For starters, they’re down a fighter the moment they commit to it. Most teams that go that route put the bracelet on their weakest member, someone who won’t last long in a real fight anyway. Sounds efficient, until you realize that’s already one less member on the field.” Yerin paused, her gaze sweeping across the group, measuring their silence to confirm they were still with her, and when no one interrupted, she continued. “And even if they manage to hide the Holder properly, they still run into one unavoidable problem,” she said, words slow and certain.

“The extracted Voidshards don’t become points on their own. They have to be transferred directly to the Holder bracelet. Physically. By hand.”

“Which means no matter how well hidden the Holder is, at some point, someone has to reach them. The Attacker has to make that handoff.”

Horren’s frown deepened, “Which means…”

“Which means the enemy doesn’t need to search for the Holder at all. They just need to wait. Watch. Pick a target from the remaining four and track them.” Shima said. “The moment that person moves with purpose, the moment they break formation, vanish from the fight — it’s done. They’ll be leading the enemy straight to the one they were trying to protect.”

Shima finished it, her tone lower now, less surprised than resigned.

Ruvian gave a slight, approving nod. “Precisely. No matter how well you think you’re hiding, the test’s mechanics force the Holder to surface eventually.”

Every approach carried its own failure point. Relying on brute strength turned the team into a target, obvious and easy to predict, while hiding the Holder would introduce complications. They turned the possibilities over and over in their heads, but each one came back scarred, compromised, unable to hold under sustained pressure.

The standard methods — the ones every team defaulted to — were built on compromise, and in this kind of test, compromise was the first step toward collapse. “Then… what’s the best move for us?” Horren asked.

“Neither,” Ruvain said, with a flat tone.

Attention snapped toward him, sharpened by the sudden void he left behind. Arlok’s brow creased into confusion. “Huh? Then, we are just not going to do anything?”

“No, what I mean is that we’re not going to play with those default options,” Ruvian said. He let that settle before finishing. “This is how we should approach this test…”

Ruvian could have explained everything right then, laid the entire plan bare, step by step, with each contingency accounted for. It would have been easier, faster, and more efficient by most standards. But efficiency wasn’t the priority now. Simplicity didn’t guarantee understanding, and understanding was very crucial at this stage of preparation.

So, he chose a different approach. He didn’t speak like a commander issuing orders, didn’t drag them through the strategy like they were blind to the stakes. Instead, he let the silence stretch when it needed to, and let the wrong ideas surface and be picked apart naturally. He guided the conversation slowly, never forcing it, never correcting too quickly. A suggestion left unanswered, a question asked with just enough weight to give them room to reach their own conclusion.

Ruvian did this not because he lacked the authority to dictate the outcome, but because dictating it would have made them dependent. In the future, where the calamity happened… Every second demanded judgment, instinct, and clarity under pressure. Dependency was just another form of failure that led to death.

‘This is for the sake of their growth…’

After a long discussion, Ruvian decided to reveal some information to his teammates. “Before anything else, I have a few matters to share,” Ruvian announced.

The room fell silent, every gaze fastening onto him in anticipation.

“I’ve actually secured a partnership with Lady Calyra and Lady Silvena.”

All kinds of disbelief swept through his companions.

“You what?”

“Ain't no fucking way. Seriously?”

“What sort of arrangement?”

“Huh!?”

(+50PP)

Each of them reacted differently to the news.

Truth be told, Ruvian had no desire to divulge this yet — but he knew he had to. His comrades needed assurance that his plans were neither reckless nor without support. So, with measured words, he laid bare the outline of his plan and the nature of the alliance he had forged.

PP= 4000

ME= 510