A Novel Concept - A death a day, MC will live anyway!

Reward: Perfect fight (Clock the Cursed).

Select one of the abilities that could have defeated your opponent.

Observe how you could have defeated him in the most optimal way.

• Aether Manipulation

• Kinetic Control

• Pyro

• Spear Mastery

• Chimera

Blue letters flashed across his vision, and Priam laughed, dark humor slipping through his exhaustion. He had just torn out his own eyes, yet somehow he could still read the rewards options. Whatever method the System used to project its interface didn’t need eyes as a medium.

As the laughter faded, a deep sigh took its place, and Priam settled onto the ground. Despite the death of its creator, Clock’s curse still clung to him, restricting his vitality and some of his resistances. His stump—where his hand had once been—bled sluggishly, and his mind, already battered by mental strain, was slow to process.

Yet the blue light of the System refused to let him rest. It demanded his choice.

Reading over the options again, Priam realized that they allowed him to witness how he could have taken down Clock in an optimal fight.

“But what does ‘optimal’ mean?” he muttered. “Quickest victory? Minimal energy? Least risk?”

The possibilities were endless, and only one way would reveal the answer. However, his instinct whispered that a reward this advanced would be worth it. Odds were, he could shape the meaning of “optimal” to his advantage.

Among the five options, he first evaluated Pyro. His connection to the Concept was nearing Unity; even if he hadn’t reached the pinnacle yet, it would suffice for now. Plus, his maxed affinity with the Concept allowed him to convert future purification opportunities into proficiency, a trick that had recently brought him to the very threshold of Unity. Eliminated.

Then came Spear Mastery. Priam grimaced, thinking of Promesse. Without his bound weapon, this choice held less appeal. And even with Promesse, Priam wasn’t arrogant enough to ignore the truth—he wasn’t a prodigy with the spear. Sure, it was his best long-range option, and he needed it to level his Mastery, but he would have to specialize elsewhere to truly shine. Gone.If I ever want to see a perfect spear fight, I’ll just watch Kazuki.

[Kinetic Control] was a tougher decision. It was his first self-created skill and had been his bread and butter for ages. Even now, he used it daily and barely grasped its full potential. To remedy that, he had devised a training routine over the last two weeks, aiming to incorporate it into every movement, even the smallest ones. It was a challenge, demanding a precise touch; he had to account for the resistance of every part of his body.

The goal was for the skill to enhance his physical abilities at any time—multiplying his strength, absorbing shocks, dispersing forces, and boosting speed without tearing himself apart. The practice offered him insight into his body, his movement skills, and his kinetic mastery.

At epic-rank, [Kinetic Control] was capable of beating Tier 3 opponents, which presaged a bright future if he could unlock its ideal upgrade.

Two questions remained. By witnessing perfect execution of the skill, could he emulate it to achieve the ideal upgrade? Almost certainly. Should he? No.

Clenching his fist, Priam brushed this choice aside. His pride might be a flaw, but he was certain he could master this ability on his own. He understood the physics behind it, and his reinforced meridians could support the strain. The only limitation was his cognitive capacity—perfectly enhancing his body meant focusing on hundreds of muscles, tendons, and bones, each with its own limits and strengths. His dragon-augmented vivacity and add-ons helped, but there was still room for improvement. Even if he witnessed a perfect use, he couldn’t replicate it fully just yet.

That left two contenders: [Aether Manipulation] and [Chimera]. One skill with primordial potential and a Talent on the brink of becoming seraphic.

Priam weighed the pros and cons. His mythic eye mutation seemed controllable with [Chimera] and might be a weakness against a curse-wielding foe. He used the Talent passively, but the option’s presence suggested that active use was possible—powerful enough to defeat a Duke. Maybe I haven’t fully grasped the potential of my bloodlines. Then again, mastering aether could take me to the Zenith.

Paralyzed by indecision, drained from the curse and blood loss, Priam struggled to think.

“Aether is the foundation of everything,” he mused. “However, if there’s a chance to tame Hecate New Moon and my bloodlines…can I pass it up? No one will teach me better than the System… But then, maybe there are ways to secure an ideal prerequisite for [Aether Manipulation]. It bugs me that this primordial skill is just a high-tier upgrade… And why the hell am I talking to myself?!”

Groaning, Piam massaged his temples. Magic versus mythos. Both choices were extraordinary, but he could only pick one. Ultimately, a single question settled it.

Would he follow a well-worn path with the bloodlines or blaze his own with the infinity of aether?

“Clock the Cursed, boss of the eighty-fifth wave. May I know the name of my opponent?”

Priam blinked. When he opened his eyes again, the System had taken control of his body. His mind was trapped—yet he sensed everything.

Without a moment’s hesitation, Perfect Priam divided his focus using his draconic vivacity. His will dominated the aether within a three-meter radius—an abnormally large Domain for a Tier 0. While Priam would have used his Breath to draw the ambient aether, Perfect Priam employed his meta-attributes, Supremacy, and absurd aether proficiency to achieve the same result.

In a heartbeat, the energy condensed before him, forming a solid sphere that he split into two. Increasing the pressure, Perfect Priam created two solid cores that hovered in front of him.

“Let the battle commence,” Clock declared as it noted its opponent’s silence. Without delay, it summoned a violet shield.

Before Clock’s words even faded, Perfect Priam began etching dozens of micro-runes on the surface of the cores. Each sigil was familiar, culled from Priam’s own memory, revealing that this ultimate version was bound by the original’s knowledge.

For the first time in ages, [Runic Language] activated. Priam had encountered these sigils through Rose, the tribes, and Sna’s hacked dungeon, but it was hard to understand their effects when Perfect Priam wielded them in a ritual. Just as one might know individual words, yet fail to grasp a complex sentence, Priam focused on the formations coiling around the cores. Their formations struck him as revolutionary—one defensive, one offensive core.

Then, just like in the first fight, a ray of violet light struck him. A parasitic curse wormed its way to the back of his eyes, forcing his aether to fuel Hecate New Moon. Clock intended to exploit the untamed mutation to drain his opponent.

This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

Perfect Priam, however, didn’t gouge his eyes out. Instead, he diverted his aether along alternate meridians. Like a train switching tracks, the energy avoided the mutation, keeping it dormant.

Clock froze, visibly thrown off by its failed attack, but Perfect Priam was only getting started. Demonstrating an insane level of aether mastery, he swiftly analyzed the curse in his eye and modified it on the fly. Under Priam’s astonished gaze, his perfect self dismantled the enemy’s aether signature. The purple hue of the spiritual parasite faded as it became ownerless. With surgical precision, Perfect Priam destroyed its stability, nullifying the curse before restoring the aether’s circulation within his eyes. The parasite’s spiritual corpse, Clock’s fragmented curse, flowed into Priam’s soul, where it was filtered and transformed into usable energy.

The skirmish lasted barely a blink before the boss regained composure. Clock hurled a violet wave at Perfect Priam, the curse speeding toward him at the speed of sound. Before it reached him, one of the two cores activated.

Boundary, control, kinetic, reinforcement, light—dozens of runes flared to life, absorbing energy from the defensive core to form a shield around Perfect Priam. He completed the protection by attuning it with Clock's energy signature, and the sphere took on a violet hue. Under the boss’s stunned gaze, its attack struck the barrier…and ignored it, mistaking it for an allied structure.

The curse mage was visibly displeased. Steam hissed from its chest as it prepared a violet fireball. Priam felt his hair stand on end as he watched it hurtle toward him, but Perfect Priam surprised him by opening his shield. When the projectile entered his Domain, he analyzed it, then, flexing his meta authority and aether proficiency, seized it. The cursed fireball morphed into a spear of flame, then shifted direction and charged back toward its creator. Despite its shield, Clock opted to dodge the infernal attack. Its gears clicked as it evaded with shocking speed.

The room trembled with the impact of the fiery lance, and the explosion was hot enough to singe Priam’s hair. Both the spectator and the boss came to the same conclusion: all magical attacks were doomed to fail.

Changing tactics, Clock unleashed a barrage of explosive bolts. Not a single projectile penetrated the kinetic-energy shield provided by the defensive core. The offensive one began to vibrate, absorbing the kinetic energy of the metallic bolts. Not even the shockwaves were spared. Without using [Kinetic Control], Perfect Priam had successfully reproduced the rune embedded in his soul.

After ten seconds of intense bombardment, the boss realized its efforts were futile. A violet aura appeared on its blades, and it leapt forward.

Almost disdainfully, Perfect Priam conjured a hundred “boundary” runes, scattering them in front of him. In an instant, they activated, dividing the room into thousands of transparent cubes. Clock collided with one of these barriers and bounced off. It observed its cage for a moment before attacking it. Several runes cracked under the impact. These weren’t masterpieces—just a means to briefly contain the opponent. As Clock prepared to strike again to break free, the offensive core vanished.

The air exploded, proving the creation hadn’t teleported but moved at a velocity near-impossible for anything but an aether-crystal fortified and charged with the kinetic energy of thousands of bolts.

Trapped by the boundary runes, Clock couldn’t dodge, and the core made contact. Rather than obliterating the boss, the solid aether orb nestled itself within its gears. The clockwork mage froze. With deliberate steps, Perfect Priam closed the distance, bypassing Clock's shield as if it didn’t exist.

The offensive core was draining Clock’s kinetic energy, effectively paralyzing it. More so, it disrupted its aether, blocking any chance of casting curses or skills. With a simple gesture, Perfect Priam modified the core’s aetheric signature to match that of his opponent, and integrated it into the boss’s pathways. The core shifted from white to violet, now considered part of the boss. Priam pondered the purpose of this maneuver before he understood.

Clock won’t be able to develop kinetic resistance as its own aether is immobilizing him!

If Priam had been in control of his body, he might have shivered. His perfect self had just demonstrated that adaptation wasn’t flawless.

As these thoughts passed, Perfect Priam knelt before his ensnared foe. Dominating the unstable core within the boss to prevent a suicide attempt, he began studying the runes covering Clock’s gears. The interlocking sequences and meanings were fascinating, and as he observed his double analyzing the runes’ effects, Priam grasped what an optimal duel meant to him.

It was a battle where he could satisfy his curiosity—a crucible for growth.

The two Priams learned until the laws of Elysium reclaimed him.

Priam awoke with a mild headache, but he was smiling. His perfect self had dissected his opponent to the last gear, cataloging runes, exploring the core, and experimenting with its weird alloy. Incredibly resilient, the material eventually succumbed to light produced and focused by a few runes. The data gathered was enthralling, though less shocking than the power of [Aether Manipulation].

With fewer than a hundred runes at its disposal, a System-enhanced clone had humiliated a Duke. From start to finish, it hadn’t used a single skill other than [Aether Perception] and [Aether Manipulation]. Altering reality using sigils had been enough to secure an overwhelming victory.

I’m far from that level, but… maybe I should draw some inspiration from it. It would add incredible versatility to my build,Priam mused.

The main insight from the battle was that skills were merely shortcuts for runes and aether manipulation. This revelation opened a new path for Priam. By understanding the runes inscribed on his soul, he might gain better mastery over his skills—and advance faster.

Once aware of this, Priam couldn’t sit idle. He created half a dozen kinetic runes on his right index finger and infused them with his aether. As his finger lifted, he burst into laughter.

“Sleeping Beauty’s finally up?”

Surprised, Priam turned to his right. At the edge of his Domain, he detected a faint ripple in the air. One of his Concepts kicked in, revealing it as a breath. Rose stood about five meters away. Analyze all nearby breaths continuously, he instructed his add-on. That should counter quite a few assassins.

[Command registered.]

“Have I been out long?” Priam asked, scanning his surroundings. He was in his bedroom hammock, modesty preserved by a leaf-covered blanket. Something prevented him from opening his eyes. Raising a hand to his head, Priam found a bandage.

“Three hours. With your vitality, we were starting to worry. Your eyes... does it hurt?”

Removing the bandage, Priam touched his empty eye sockets, wincing. His optic nerves burned, and aether leaked from his ocular meridians, but it was less terrifying than blindness.

“Not really, but it’s… strange,” he said, trying to reassure her.

“It’s mostly gross to look at.”

“I must be a sorry sight.”

“I’m rolling my eyes.”

“Okay, you win.”

Without further hesitation, Priam burned a large amount of lifespan to regenerate his eyes. The high cost surprised him. It was hard to gauge the time sacrificed, but it was nearly a hundredth of his remaining reserves. A year or two of my life? Is it due to the mythical mutation or because the curse restricting my vitality is still active?

The question went unanswered, but the familiar feel of eyeballs behind his lids shifted his focus. Priam opened his eyes, grinning as his supernatural vision returned. For some reason, Hecate New Moon hadn’t cursed him with blindness. Yeah, I should thank [Chimera] for that.

“So, what happened?” Rose asked, while carving runes on a wooden sphere. Even while watching over a patient, she continued working.

“I was cursed,” Priam admitted, examining his body. His hand had regenerated, though his right arm bore scars where Clock's shrapnel had lodged. Instead of severing the limb, he split his focus to study the curse.

“I’m surprised you haven’t developed a resistance to that,” Rose joked.

“The boss blocked it from forming,” a voice chimed in. “May I come in?”

“Make yourself at home,” Priam replied, watching Esmée pull herself up onto the branch outside his room. She managed to stay elegant even while climbing.

“Good morning, Rose.”

“Good morning, Esmée.”

Rose eyed the two of them before excusing herself, wishing Priam a good recovery. He watched her walk away with thoughtful eyes. One of the rewards from the sixty-fifth wave of the Colosseum was a Resurrection Token. It wouldn’t work on someone dead from Tribulation, nor on those whose souls were damaged or trapped, but it could save a Tier 0 loved one in all other cases.

The System prevented most Colosseum rewards from being transferred, forcing its users to push their limits. Yet, if Rose took risks, she would have a chance at saving her mother. But if she dies trying to slay that Marquess werebear, I’ll be responsible for setting her on this path.

“Is there a problem?” Esmée asked.

“Not one; many,” Priam sighed before cracking a smile at the pretty girl. “You mentioned a way to block resistance formation?”

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

https://www.patreon.com/ANovelConcept

Visit and read more novel to help us update chapter quickly. Thank you so much!