NOVGO.NET Chapter 88: The Cost of Measuring People
Chapter 88: The Cost of Measuring People
( Elizabeth Aurelius’s POV )
The first mistake people made when looking at a ruined city was assuming there was no longer any structure.
There was always structure.
You simply had to find what remained of it.
I stood on the roof of a partially collapsed building and looked across the streets below.
Stone houses.
Warehouses.
A market district.
Three watchtowers.
A large administrative building near the center.
Two bridges crossing a narrow canal.
Several roads wide enough for wagons.
Smoke rose from the eastern quarter, but most of the western district remained intact.
More importantly...
People.
A great many people.
Civilians filled the streets below us.
Some were injured.
Some were gathering possessions.
Others were simply standing around waiting for someone to tell them what to do.
Behind me, thirty-seven Zenith students were still recovering from being transported into the Mirage Hermit’s illusion.
I was not.
There would be time to question how the Hermit had placed almost two hundred students inside a shared illusion later.
At present, we had an objective.
A translucent message remained above the city.
---
ZENITH FIRST-YEAR SPECIAL EXAMINATION
Reach the central Citadel before dawn.
Time Remaining: 7:51:36
---
Eight hours.
Unknown distance.
Unknown threats.
Artifacts restricted.
Personal equipment restricted.
Our abilities remained available.
And apparently, Class One had been given a city.
I looked over the district again.
Food.
Transportation.
Shelter.
People.
Infrastructure.
Interesting.
"Elizabeth?"
I turned.
A tall A-potential boy stood behind me.
Adrian Kell.
Wind attribute.
Competent enough from what I remembered of his entrance records.
"Everyone is waiting."
"Then we should stop making them wait."
I descended from the roof.
***
The first ten minutes were spent gathering information.
Not fighting.
Not exploring.
Information first.
Always.
"Anyone with enhanced perception, Wind, Sound, or scouting-related abilities, raise your hand."
Seven students responded.
I divided the surrounding city into sections.
"Pairs. Do not go farther than five streets from this location. Identify monsters, usable roads, food stores, vehicles, defensible buildings, and any structure that appears important."
Someone raised a hand.
"What if we find the Citadel?"
"We are unlikely to find the central Citadel within five streets."
A few people laughed.
Good.
Less tension.
"Any profession related to medicine, construction, logistics, or crafting?"
More hands.
I assigned them.
"Everyone else remains here until we know what we’re dealing with."
A boy near the back frowned.
"Shouldn’t we move immediately? The objective is reaching the Citadel."
"Which direction?"
He stopped.
"Exactly."
I turned toward the surrounding civilians.
"Until we know where we’re going, moving quickly merely allows us to become lost faster."
No one argued after that.
Reasonable people were pleasant.
Unfortunately, they were uncommon.
***
The city had been designed with irritating competence.
Within fifteen minutes, my scouts returned with useful information.
There were three large food warehouses.
Two contained enough preserved supplies to feed our class for several days.
One had burned.
There were twelve functional wagons.
Four damaged ones.
Thirty-two horses.
A blacksmith.
Two carpenters.
One healer.
Approximately eighty civilians within the immediate western district.
And monsters entering through the eastern streets.
"How many?" I asked.
Adrian answered.
"Maybe forty."
"Type?"
"Mostly small. Four larger ones."
"Movement?"
"Scattered."
Not an organized force.
Good.
"Distance?"
"Ten minutes."
Less good.
I looked toward the students.
"Half of you secure the wagons and food."
A combat-focused student frowned.
"Half?"
"The monsters are approaching."
"Exactly."
He looked confused.
I continued.
"If thirty-eight awakened students require thirty-eight fighters to stop forty scattered creatures, Zenith made a serious admissions error."
Silence.
Then someone laughed.
"Fair."
I selected twelve of the strongest combat students.
"You come with me."
The rest would prepare transportation.
Simple.
Efficient.
The first monsters reached the western district seven minutes later.
They lasted less than three.
Water swept the first group from the street.
Earth rose beneath the second and crushed them against a building.
Fire finished what remained.
I barely needed Air.
One of the larger creatures survived long enough to reach me.
It had thick scales.
Four legs.
A mouth wide enough to remove most of my upper body.
Unpleasant.
I stepped aside as it lunged.
Earth locked around two of its legs.
It stumbled.
Water wrapped around its neck.
Then I compressed.
Something cracked.
The creature stopped moving.
Several classmates stared.
I ignored them.
There were more important things to do.
"Check the eastern street."
Adrian moved immediately.
Good.
I looked toward the dead monsters.
Combat was useful.
But fighting without purpose was simply expensive movement.
James would disagree.
James enjoyed problems that could be cut in half.
I preferred problems that never reached me.
***
The civilians complicated matters.
They always did.
Not because they were incompetent.
Because eighty people created eighty variables.
"Everyone who can walk, stand on the left."
Most moved.
"Anyone injured badly enough that walking is difficult, remain seated."
Approximately seventeen.
"Anyone with a profession that could assist travel or survival, step forward."
That produced useful results.
A blacksmith.
Useful.
Two carpenters.
Useful.
A hunter familiar with roads outside the city.
Very useful.
Three people with military experience.
Useful.
A woman who had worked in the city’s food stores.
Useful.
Two stable hands.
Useful.
An elderly man who knew the irrigation channels outside the walls.
Potentially useful.
A tailor.
Less relevant.
Six elderly civilians.
Several parents.
Eleven children.
A small boy standing alone.
I studied everyone.
We had twelve wagons.
Enough transportation for the injured, supplies, and most civilians.
Most.
Not necessarily all.
Every person added weight.
Food consumption.
Space.
Protection requirements.
Travel speed.
The calculations were simple.
The implications were less so.
One of my classmates leaned toward me.
"What are we doing with them?"
"Taking everyone we reasonably can."
"To the Citadel?"
"Presumably."
"Are they part of the exam?"
"Everything inside the examination is part of the exam."
That did not mean every civilian was equally important.
I continued assessing.
The blacksmith could repair wagons.
The hunter could guide us.
The stable hands could manage horses.
The injured required protection but could not contribute directly.
Children...
Weight.
My eyes paused on the small boy.
Perhaps eight years old.
Thin.
Dirty clothes.
No visible injuries.
He was staring directly at me.
Not frightened.
Intent.
"Do you have family here?" I asked.
He shook his head.
"Profession?"
Someone nearby gave me a strange look.
The boy blinked.
"I’m nine."
That was not an answer.
It was also, admittedly, enough of one.
"Stay with the other children."
His expression changed.
"I can help."
"Good. Help them remain together."
"But I..."
"Later."
I turned toward the next civilian.
There were still dozens to organize.
Time mattered.
***
The administrative building became our first problem.
It should have contained the city maps.
It did.
It should also, logically, have contained something connected to the examination objective.
It did not.
We searched the entire structure.
Nothing.
No unusual magical signature.
No instructions.
But we found a municipal map.
That was better than nothing.
The Citadel was almost five hours away by wagon if the western road remained usable.
Four and a half if we pushed the horses.
Closer to six with eighty civilians and supplies.
We could still make it.
Barely.
Then Adrian noticed something.
"Princess."
"Elizabeth."
He hesitated.
"Elizabeth."
Better.
He pointed toward several symbols on the municipal map.
Four small towers surrounded the district.
"These aren’t watchtowers."
I examined them.
He was right.
Signal relays.
Old emergency infrastructure.
Each connected to the administrative building through underground conduits.
Interesting.
One relay had already activated automatically when we entered the building.
Three remained inactive.
A diagram beside the map contained an unfamiliar symbol.
Circular.
Runic.
Very similar to the markings on the examination interface.
There.
"The seal is connected to the city network."
Adrian leaned closer.
"You think activating the relays reveals it?"
"Either that or causes something terrible."
He smiled.
"Comforting."
"I try."
We divided.
Not evenly.
I sent competent teams.
That distinction mattered.
There was no reason for me to personally activate every relay when other people could do it.
James could benefit from that lesson.
Ten minutes later, the northern relay activated.
Then western.
The third team returned from the southern district.
Blocked.
A collapsed building covered the street leading to the tower.
"Alternative route?"
"Couldn’t find one."
"Underground access?"
"Sealed."
I studied the map.
There had to be another entrance.
Cities did not build critical infrastructure with a single access point.
Unless the people who designed this one were idiots.
Possible.
But unlikely.
I sent another group to search.
Meanwhile, we prepared the wagons.
Thirty minutes passed.
No alternate entrance.
I searched the administrative records personally.
Maintenance routes.
Old construction plans.
Emergency access tunnels.
Nothing.
The southern relay remained inactive.
I looked back at the map.
The southern relay.
No access.
Why?
The other three were obvious.
Perhaps the fourth was designed differently.
Why?
A separate system?
Backup line?
I traced the conduit beneath the city.
It passed through...
The old market.
Then vanished from the municipal map.
Interesting.
"Send two people to the market district."
Adrian nodded.
"Again?"
"Again."
He hesitated.
"We’ve searched it twice."
"Then search it better."
He left.
***
Twenty minutes later, they returned.
Nothing.
The southern tower was the key.
I knew that.
Its connection had deliberately been omitted from the city records.
Which suggested restricted access.
Military?
Royal?
Emergency personnel?
I questioned the civilians again.
"Who worked for the city administration?"
Three people.
None knew.
"Military?"
Two veterans.
No.
"Construction?"
The carpenters knew nothing.
"Waterworks?"
The elderly man examined the map.
"These tunnels aren’t ours."
"You’re certain?"
"Yes."
I believed him.
His answer was too immediate.
The irrigation system ran lower.
So what connected the southern relay?
I looked across the square.
The wagons were nearly ready.
Civilians loaded supplies.
Students checked horses.
Everything else was proceeding correctly.
Everything except the seal.
A voice came from nearby.
"I know where it is."
I continued reading the map.
"Where what is?"
"The way under the tower."
My hand stopped.
I looked toward the voice.
The small boy.
The one I had assigned to the other children.
He stood several meters away.
A classmate was attempting to guide him back toward a wagon.
I stared at him.
"How?"
"My father showed me."
I straightened.
"What did your father do?"
"He fixed the bells."
Silence.
The bells.
My eyes moved toward the southern relay symbol.
Not a watchtower.
Not merely a relay.
A bell tower.
Emergency signal system.
The boy stepped closer.
"There’s a tunnel."
"Where?"
"Under the bakery."
I stared at him.
The bakery.
I had seen it marked on the old district records.
Not important.
Not administrative.
Not military.
Not infrastructure.
Except...
The bell maintenance workers needed access without crossing the main streets.
Of course.
"Show me."
The boy smiled.
"I told you I could help."
I said nothing.
That would have been unwise.
***
The bakery had partially collapsed.
We found the cellar beneath several broken shelves.
The entrance was hidden behind a flour storage wall.
No municipal marking.
No official label.
A simple maintenance route known to the people who actually used it.
The boy walked ahead of us.
He knew every turn.
I followed silently.
Adrian followed beside me.
He wisely said nothing.
I appreciated him more for that.
The tunnel ended beneath the southern relay.
A narrow ladder led upward.
The mechanism above was damaged but functional.
I placed one hand against the control formation.
Mana entered.
The tower activated.
A deep bell rang across the ruined city.
Once.
Twice.
Three times.
Then the entire municipal network came alive.
Light traveled beneath the streets.
North.
West.
East.
South.
All four relay towers connected to the administrative building.
A message appeared.
CITY EMERGENCY NETWORK RESTORED
CENTRAL COMMAND ACCESS UNLOCKED
I closed my eyes for half a second.
Central command.
Of course.
We returned.
***
The central command chamber had been beneath the administrative building the entire time.
The entrance simply hadn’t existed until all four relays activated.
Efficient design.
Annoying design.
At the center of the chamber floated a golden disk.
Finally.
I touched the Guardian Seal.
Golden light filled the chamber.
---
CLASS ONE GUARDIAN SEAL ACQUIRED
Guardian Seals: 5/5
---
The room became very quiet.
I stared at the number.
Five
Meaning...
We were last.
Adrian looked upward.
Then at me.
He said nothing.
Again, wise.
For most of my life, being first had been expected.
First to understand.
First to prepare.
First to notice.
First to act correctly.
People associated intelligence with speed.
Usually, they were right.
This time, four other classes had solved their problem before I solved mine.
Not because the puzzle had been beyond me.
That would have been easier to accept.
I had understood the city.
I had identified its resources.
Organized transportation.
Found the municipal network.
Located the relay problem.
I had done almost everything correctly.
Almost.
The one useful piece of information I had dismissed had come from a nine-year-old boy because I had classified him before listening to him.
Blacksmith.
Useful.
Hunter.
Useful.
Stable hands.
Useful.
Child.
Weight.
I did not like that thought.
Which meant I should remember it.
A second message immediately followed.
---
ALL GUARDIAN SEALS HAVE BEEN ACQUIRED.
THE CITADEL MAY NOW BE OPENED.
---
Cheers erupted behind me.
I did not join them.
We had the seal.
Good.
We had also lost almost an hour because I had listened selectively.
Less good.
"Elizabeth?"
Adrian stood beside me.
"What?"
He looked toward the exit.
"The boy is waiting upstairs."
I stared at him.
"Why?"
"He said you owe him something."
My eyebrows rose.
"I owe him something?"
"Apparently."
Interesting.
***
He was waiting beside one of the wagons.
Arms crossed.
Nine years old.
Remarkably confident for someone surrounded by awakened teenagers.
I stopped in front of him.
"You wanted something?"
"You didn’t listen."
Direct.
I respected that.
"No."
His confidence faltered slightly.
Perhaps he had expected an excuse.
I continued.
"You tried to tell me something useful, and I decided what you could contribute before hearing you."
He stared.
Several nearby classmates had gone suspiciously quiet.
I ignored them.
"That was my mistake."
The boy blinked.
"Oh."
"Anything else?"
He thought carefully.
"Can I ride in the front wagon?"
"No."
His face fell.
"Why?"
"Because the front wagon will be exposed if something attacks."
"Oh."
"You can ride in the third."
He considered this.
"Fine."
"Good."
He started to leave.
I stopped him.
"What’s your name?"
He turned.
"Eren."
I nodded once.
"Eren."
He smiled.
Then ran toward the wagons.
Adrian appeared beside me.
"That was surprisingly normal."
I looked at him.
"What does that mean?"
"Nothing."
"Explain."
"I value my position in the class."
A sensible answer.
I let him live.
***
We left the city twelve minutes later.
Twelve wagons.
Food.
Water.
Tools.
Medical supplies.
Every civilian we could transport.
Which turned out to be all of them.
That required leaving behind several heavier crates and reducing our food reserve.
An easy decision.
Eventually.
I rode near the front of the column, studying the route.
The western road was the fastest.
There were two possible crossings.
One mountain route.
One river route.
The mountain route was shorter but exposed.
The river route...
A notification interrupted my thoughts.
---
All five Guardian Seals are now active.
---
Good.
Somewhere, the other four classes were moving too.
I wondered which one had been first.
James would be intolerable if it had been him.
Hopefully not.
Then again, he would be equally intolerable if he discovered I had been last.
That information needed to remain classified.
"Elizabeth."
I turned.
Eren was leaning from the third wagon.
Of course.
"What?"
"There’s an old military road north of here."
I looked at the map.
No road marked.
"How do you know?"
"My father took me once."
I stared at him.
He stared back.
I looked down at the map.
Then toward Adrian.
He immediately looked away.
Smart.
Very smart.
I turned the horse.
"Show me."
Eren grinned.
This time, I listened first.
***
The military road existed.
Narrow.
Overgrown.
But intact.
It reduced our route by almost thirty minutes.
Of course it did.
I said nothing.
Eren said nothing.
His expression said enough.
I disliked expressive children.
We continued toward the Citadel.
My classmates spread around the wagons.
Scouts ahead.
Combat students at the sides.
A rear guard behind us.
Useful civilians distributed where their skills mattered.
Injured people protected in central wagons.
Children with them.
Not because they were useful.
Because leaving them behind was unacceptable.
There was a distinction.
I had understood that before today.
At least, I thought I had.
Understanding something in principle was apparently easier than applying it when the clock was running and every decision had a cost.
That was probably the point.
The Mirage Hermit had given Class One the most complicated resource of all.
People.
Food could be counted.
Wagons could be measured.
Roads could be compared.
People resisted simple categories.
I looked toward the third wagon.
Eren noticed.
He waved.
I looked away.
Annoying child.
But useful...
I stopped that thought.
No.
Not useful.
Eren.
That was enough.
Behind me, Adrian laughed quietly.
I turned.
"Something amusing?"
"No."
"Good."
We continued toward the Citadel.
I had spent most of the examination measuring everyone around me.
Blacksmith.
Scout.
Healer.
Fighter.
Civilian.
Child.
Asset.
Burden.
Useful.
Weight.
It had taken becoming the last class to find our seal for me to notice the flaw in the method.
People could be useful.
People could be burdens.
Often, they could be both.
But neither category told me what they were worth.
That calculation was apparently more complicated.
I disliked complicated calculations.
Unfortunately, I was very good at them.