A Novel Concept - A death a day, MC will live anyway!-Chapter 316: Mother of Learning

Starting at a trot before accelerating to leap onto the first platform, Priam controlled his body—or rather his shadow—with a mastery that would be impossible for anyone but an Olympic athlete. He landed on the first platform with a captivating grace before racing forward, weaving through the course toward the corner platform, slowing just enough to avoid twisting an ankle.

Pivoting a quarter turn, Priam faced the next part of the course while stepping backward. When his shoulders met the wall behind him, he planted a foot against it. Inspired by swimmers kicking off pool walls for speed, he pushed off, gaining the impetus needed to clear the next jump.

“Yes!” he shouted as his feet touched the eleventh base.

The race continued, but the increasing height of the platforms sapped his momentum. Three leaps later, Priam came up short, missing the fifteenth platform by mere centimeters. The ink-black floor beneath him yawned open, swallowing him whole.

“Current record: Test Number One. Fourteenth base. Time: Twenty-nine seconds. Evaluation: Subpar performance,” echoed a mechanical voice as Priam’s eyes fluttered open.

“Who gives a damn?” Priam muttered, a crooked grin playing on his lips. He could almost feel the runes within his soul quivering with excitement. Each failure was a spotlight on his weaknesses, and if anyone was willing to embrace failure to learn and improve, it was him.

It was, after all, the reason he had been granted [He Who Eludes Death].

“That said, there’s no point in rushing. Repeating the same mistake a hundred times and expecting different results is just plain stupidity.” Priam shut his eyes, visualizing the course. “This challenge looks like a giant spiral staircase, except there’s nothing but air between the two hundred steps. The problem isn’t just the distance between two platforms; I must also jump upward to reach the next one. Then, when I land, most of my momentum is spent in the vertical vector. The platforms’ tiny size prevents me from accelerating again, so my next jump falls short.…”

Opening his eyes, Priam frowned. How do I fix this?

“I’ll start with the obvious variable: raw physical strength.”

The System limited his attributes, not his Supremacies.

“Again,” he asked, surrendering himself to the shadows.

The run began as usual: nine platforms to the corner of the room, then a soft landing on the tenth. Priam used the wall behind him to gain additional impetus despite the limited space. The added burst of speed propelled him to the fifteenth platform.

From there, the gaps widened to over five meters. Without sufficient momentum, any amateur would have plummeted, but Priam relied on Micro. Overclocking his leg muscles, he launched himself into the air with a force beyond human limits.

It had been a long time since Priam was just an ordinary man.

The nineteenth platform marked another corner. Priam cushioned the impact carefully, preserving his body, and used the wall to gain speed once more. If it ain't broke, don't fix it!

Too bad the formula wasn’t winning anymore. The next gap stretched seven meters, and with barely a meter of runway, the jump was impossible, even for an Olympic athlete.

Without hope, Priam leapt toward the next platform... and missed. As he plummeted into the void, his mind churned with ideas for improvement.

Lvl Up: [Art of Movement] Lvl 34

AGI +1

PERC +1

DEXT +1

Lvl Up: [Iron Marathon] lvl 9

AGI +3

Die and retry, mother of learning. With each attempt, Priam honed his movements, ironing out imperfections that plagued his movements. The angles of his knees, hips, and ankles to optimize his leaps; the way his feet struck the platforms to maximize traction; even the micro-pauses he gave his muscles to coax peak performance—all became avenues for refinement.

Priam kept falling, but every fall was an opportunity to analyze and adapt. The System highlighted some flaws through [Art of Movement], while [Priam’s system], aided by Micro, identified others. His Supremacy granted him preternatural control over his body and a fine-tuned ability to self-diagnose.

Gradually, the Champion improved. Yet success remained elusive. On his eighth attempt, Priam realized the nineteenth platform was insurmountable with his current attributes. Grinding [Art of Movement], perfecting his posture, and optimizing muscle efficiency would eke out only marginal gains. He was still a meter short of reaching the twentieth platform.

“I need a new variable. Again.”

As his shadow vessel materialized in the testing chamber, Priam glanced up at the vexing platform and stepped back, contemplating.

“My stats aren’t enough to clear seven meters with a single step’s worth of momentum. That’s a fact. Yet others have completed this test without using the Shadow Concept to enhance their shadow frames.” He had asked. The center shadow had offered to project a successful run—without the use of teleportation—but Priam had refused. The Juggernaut wasn’t too proud to acknowledge others’ achievements, but he had enough faith in himself to know he could do it alone.

“I need to think outside the box… figuratively.” Priam smirked at his unintentional pun. “I can overclock my muscles, but the backlash would tear them apart. Do I really want to cheat by burning my lifespan just to rebuild my body every three platforms?” He glanced at his shadow, then growled. Jasmine wasn’t here to talk him out of stupid ideas. “Priam, you need to take care of yourself,” he mimicked in a feminine voice. “Terrible impression… Anyway, if boosting my body isn’t the answer, then can I use the environment?” He fell silent, an idea forming. A thin smile curved his lips as he let himself drop backward.

“Again!”

Accelerating from the start of the course, Priam devoured the first few meters with power and grace, like a cheetah closing in on its prey. Repeating the now-familiar path, he reached the eighteenth platform—the one before the second corner. Adjusting his trajectory slightly, he leapt.

Not toward the next platform, but toward the wall parallel to his course.

Wall Jump!

His foot struck the wall, and drawing inspiration from parkour videos he had watched, Priam pushed off, angling toward the opposite wall. A second wall jump redirected him toward the twentieth platform.

If a right-angle turn was impossible, why not a curve? Skipping the nineteenth platform to avoid losing momentum, Priam had soared over it, running along the walls.

Lvl Up: [Art of Movement] Lvl 35

AGI +1

PERC +1

DEXT +1

Lvl Up: [Balance] lvl 17

AGI +1

DEXT +2

Grinning, Priam continued his ascent. When he fell several dozen meters later, his eyes gleamed with determination.

“Again!”

Lvl up: [Karmic Consequence Resistance] lvl 12

CHAR +3

META (Chance) +6

Lvl Up: [Art of Movement] Lvl 36

AGI +1

PERC +1

DEXT +1

Lvl Up: [Iron Marathon] lvl 10

AGI +3

“Current Record: Test number one, hundredth base, sixty-two seconds. Assessment: Remarkable performance.”

Progress comes quickly when you’re having fun, and Priam was having the time of his life. There was something cathartic about sprinting with every ounce of strength or channeling all his energy into each leap. His body was a finely-tuned machine, and Priam knew every cog and piston within it. Priam relished pushing it to its absolute limit. According to the intelligence running the facility, a “remarkable performance” usually signified success. If only he had the Shadow Concept, Priam might already have reached the exit.

Reality was different, but that didn’t stop him from running, eager to discover the course’s next traps. The hundredth base had introduced a new mechanism.

His two hearts hammering in his chest, Priam reached the halfway mark when a black veil descended over his eyes, plunging him into total darkness. He didn’t falter for even a moment.

Priam understood the purpose of the obscurity; an assassin needed to thrive in the dark. However, thanks to his eidetic memory, being blind was a non-issue. Priam had analyzed the course from the ground long ago, and could recall it with ease.

The sourc𝗲 of this content is freēwēbηovel.c૦m.

Lvl Up: [Shadow Resistance] lvl 3

META (Endurance) +2

META (Authority) +1

Even my shadow can adapt?! The thought shattered his concentration, nearly sending him back to the starting line. Focus!

The gaps between platforms grew steadily wider, stretching to a daunting nine meters—five centimeters beyond the world record for long jump. Technique alone was no longer enough. Priam activated Micro, temporarily overclocking select muscle groups. This ability came with risks, the strain tore through his quadriceps, triceps, and glutes. After each fall, Priam had to wait for his body to heal before restarting.

Where a normal assassin would be bedridden for days, Priam needed only five minutes to recover.

Stolen novel; please report.

“Again.”

“Container Ride, run twenty-three.”

If schoolkids’ pens could talk, they would say breaking something down is the best way to learn. Priam’s relentless demands on his fragile body were teaching him its limits. Running, jumping, leaping from platform to platform, he cataloged every torn muscle, studied every stretched tendon, analyzed every minor sprain. Armed with this knowledge, he refined his use of Micro, pushing just beneath his body’s limits for a safe overclock.

The barrier between Micro I and Micro II thinned as Priam inched closer to the finish line.

Light flickered for a fraction of a second, disorienting him and causing a misstep. He fell.

“Again!” he roared upon respawning.

The familiar sensation of falling into a pool of shadow seized him before a Concept animated his form, breathing life into his own shadow.

“Container Ride, run twenty-four.”

“This is the one,” he vowed.

Eyes shut from the start, the Juggernaut dashed forward. His second stride was twice the length of his first; the third, three times longer. He reached the first platform in under five seconds, surpassing the speed of the fastest human sprinter. From there, he accelerated further, vaulting over the second platform entirely to land on the third. Why stop at every base when you can skip one out of two?

The first corner was conquered with two wall jumps, as were all those that followed. Climbing and leaping from platform to platform, Priam summoned his spectral scales. The draconic Talent tied to [Smooth Scales] allowed him to partially ignore air resistance. Sure-footed, hyper-aware of his body’s position and the course’s layout, Priam continued his ascent, unstoppable.

The Juggernaut was spreading his wings, his talent obliterating the impossible nature of the challenge. With attributes capped at those of an average human, the challenge was designed for someone wielding the Shadow Concept. No human should have been able to complete it.

The Champion was proving he deserved his Title. Since his Tutorial, he didn’t care about the difficulty of a task, only about a way to win.

Midway through the course, he passed the lightless boundary, ascending without opening his eyes. The gaps between platforms, which started at four meters, now spanned thirteen meters—four more than the world record. At the one hundred and ninety-fifth base, attributes twice those of an average man were necessary to proceed. Limited to half that, Priam pushed his body to its limits, resolved to employ a strategy as old as war itself: sacrifice to secure victory.

Charging forward at the speed of a galloping horse, the Juggernaut planted a foot on the platform's edge and pushed off with his thighs. Commanded by his Supremacy, the muscles obeyed, even as Priam felt fibers begin to rupture. Accepting this reality, he growled and triggered Micro, directing the full strain to one in five fibers. Twenty percent of his muscles tore apart.

The effort was enough to propel him over thirteen meters.

Lvl Up: [Art of Movement] Lvl 37

AGI +1

PERC +1

DEXT +1

Used to agony, Priam smiled as he cleared the gap. As long as he was feeling pain, he was alive. For someone who eluded death on a daily basis, that was all that mattered.

Again!

Priam leaped three more times, each jump leaving his thighs more destroyed than the last. Only his skin prevented the blood from escaping his ruined muscles, but it didn’t matter. He was on the penultimate platform, and the exit was in sight.

With one final, desperate push, Priam summoned the last dregs of strength from his legs, obliterating them in a last overclock. He soared fourteen meters through the air and landed on the final platform. His legs buckled beneath him, too weak and mangled to support his weight.

“Container Ride, test validated in one hundred and fourteen seconds. Assessment: Excellent performance.”

“I did it,” Priam laughed, pain catching up to him but failing to dampen his triumph. Like a gamer finally defeating a boss after a hundred tries or an athlete breaking a record after years of training, he had done it.

When the door opened to let him through, Priam crawled forward on his arms, his legs dragging behind him. Pride swelling in his chest, he was still smiling.

“Time to—Priam?!”

Priam raised a hand, waving Jasmine off as she rushed toward him. “I’m fine.”

“Your legs are black!”

“I’d say more of a deep blue,” Priam replied, studying the bruises that painted his skin. “Too bad you didn’t show up sooner, as the injuries looked like a damn rainbow!”

“What the fuck happened?!”

“The first challenge was... more intense than I expected.” Priam shrugged. “I’m pretty sure these tests weren’t designed for someone without a Shadow Concept.”

As her fear ebbed, Jasmine’s worry morphed into irritation. “If it’s not useful, why put yourself through this shit?”

“I never said it wasn’t useful,” Priam said with a grin, using his kinetic mastery to haul himself upright. Now that the test was over, all his skills were fully functional again. “At the very least, it confirmed that attributes aren’t everything. Skills, Talents, Merits, Supremacies, and Concepts provide a terrifying qualitative advantage.”

Between the first and the last run, Priam’s vessel had remained unchanged, but the mastery of its pilot had made all the difference.

“What a groundbreaking revelation,” Jasmine mocked. “You mean Kazuki could kick your ass in a spear duel with half your attributes? I’m stunned.” Her deadpan delivery and dry tone were saying otherwise.

Priam grunted. “What about you? Did you find what you needed?”

“No.” Jasmine stretched like a cat. “My hacking skills are limited, and all of them come from here. Shockingly, my old masters took precautions to make sure no traitor could access their servers.”

Beneath her sarcasm, Priam detected the bitterness.

“It’s not as bad as you think,” he said, tossing her a crystal. “For you.”

“Aren’t there usually bands under stones like this?” Jasmine asked, holding the gemstone up to her left ring finger.

“Blame Sauron. He’s the one who taught me to be wary of rings.” Priam chuckled at her confused look before heading toward the door. “Enough wasting time. We’ve got a civilization’s leader to assassinate.”

“What’s in this stone?” Jasmine called after him.

“The recorded runs of all the past masters and elders of your guild. Two thousand years of history and secret techniques.”

“You’re the best!” shouted Jasmine.

“I know.”

Esmée stared intently at the floor. If she looked up, she feared her expression might betray the fury she felt toward her father.

“This trip to Elysium has done you good. Your arms have put on a bit of muscle, haven’t they? Before, you were a little too scrawny for my liking, but now your chest looks like it’d make a very comfortable pillow…”

Coming from another advisor, the comment might have been a naked insult. From her uncle, it was pure, unfiltered lechery. Esmée realized she didn’t feel anger toward the pig, only contempt.

“Enough, Alexandre.” The king subtly drew the aether to himself, commanding the room’s attention. Esmée raised her head, careful to focus her gaze between her father’s eyes rather than on his pupils. A trick to face him without giving anything.

“My daughter,” the king began, his voice a polished blade, “I summoned you urgently because one of your rivals is about to upset the game board. Priam is planning an assassination attempt on an Arkanian Baron.”

Esmée fought to keep her expression neutral. Priam was a force of nature, not a tactician plotting. Whatever her father said, the Baron was as good as dead.

“If he succeeds,” the king continued, “a million humans will arrive on Proxima. I want you to use your powers to ensure they meet the living dead.”

Status:

PHYSICAL:

Strength 893

Constitution 1 431

Agility 1 194 (+16)

Vitality 1 322

Perception 864 (+5)

MENTAL:

Vivacity (D) 599

Dexterity 758 (+6)

Memory 902

Willpower 1 015

Charisma 680 (+10)

META:

Meta-affinity 1 016

Meta-focus 568

Meta-endurance 932 (+3)

Meta-perception 541

Meta-chance 616 (+22)

Meta-authority 453 (+1)

Potential: 27 670 (+22)

Tier 0

Sun points: 1 143 444

[He Who Eludes Death] charge: OFF. Reloaded in 1 hour 15 minutes 36 seconds.

Concepts:

Bloodlines:

Rewards standing:

[Tribulation]: Five Tribulations pending.

Future Tribulations delayed until:

Time: 132 days 1 hour 44 minutes 49 seconds.

Next thresholds: 12 attributes > 900 / 3 attributes > 1 200 / 1 attribute > 1 500

Next arc already complete on Patreon if you want to find out what happens next!

/ANovelConcept