The avatar clapped his hands once more, and the classroom vanished instantly as if it had never existed in the first place. The walls of the hunting lodge returned, the warm fire crackled once more inside the stone fireplace, and the wooden scent of the room replaced the nauseating atmosphere from before. Unfortunately, the transition was not entirely graceful. The people who had been vomiting into neatly conjured baskets suddenly found themselves throwing up directly onto the wooden floor instead. Several groans echoed through the room while Bill looked personally offended by reality itself.
"Well then," the avatar announced cheerfully while adjusting his top hat, completely ignoring the suffering around him. "Now that we are done with that educational session, I believe it is time to discuss the rewards that come with winning the trial." He snapped his fingers dramatically, causing glowing numbers and symbols to appear above the fireplace. "Naturally, I shall skip the boring rewards first. Things such as your planet receiving twenty-three percent of the goblins' planetary mass." He waved his hand dismissively. "Considering their world was significantly larger than Earth, humanity is about to gain an absolutely delightful amount of new land to fight over."
The room remained unimpressed.
The avatar tilted his head slightly as if disappointed by their lack of enthusiasm. "Honestly, I expected at least one patriotic speech about manifest destiny," he muttered under his breath. "You people are no fun." Then his grin widened once more. "Still, your precious Earth System objected rather strongly to the immediate integration process." His tone turned mocking as he continued. "Apparently, rapidly increasing the size of your planet while flooding it with mana would have left humanity isolated, technologically crippled, and stranded across continents with no infrastructure."
Several people visibly paled at that explanation.
"Personally," the avatar continued with obvious disappointment, "I favored immediate integration. Watching your continents split apart while your satellites fell out of orbit sounded highly entertaining." He sighed dramatically while placing a hand against his chest. "Sadly, your system used its authority to delay the planetary rewards for one month and spread the integration over six months instead." His expression resembled that of a child whose favorite toy had just been confiscated. "Truly tragic."
Karl slowly exhaled while rubbing a hand over his face. "Seems we have another reason to be grateful for Mother Gaia's thoughtfulness," he muttered darkly. Even he looked unsettled now as he imagined Earth suddenly expanding beyond recognition while humanity lost all access to modern technology overnight. Entire nations would have collapsed instantly. Billions might have survived the war only to die afterward in chaos, starvation, and isolation.
"Wait. Hold on," Bertho suddenly interrupted while raising a hand. His expression sharpened with suspicion as he leaned forward in his chair. "You said our technology would stop working because of mana interference." He frowned deeply. "But our technology worked perfectly fine before the trials started. Cars, satellites, electronics, all of it functioned normally. It only stopped working after we entered the trial." His eyes narrowed triumphantly. "So what changed?"
The room fell silent.
The avatar blinked once before slowly turning toward Bertho with genuine interest. For the first time since appearing before them, he actually looked attentive instead of merely entertained. "Well now," he mused softly. "You humans are slightly smarter than I initially gave you credit for." His grin widened in a way that immediately made Bertho uncomfortable. "Other members of your species have noticed that inconsistency as well, but most are too frightened to ask me directly." He leaned forward slightly while studying Bertho like an insect pinned beneath glass. "Why are you different?"
Bertho immediately regretted opening his mouth.
"That expression answers enough already," the avatar chuckled before straightening once more. "Very well. Since you asked politely, I suppose I owe you an explanation." He snapped his fingers, causing a floating flask to appear in his hand out of nowhere. After taking an unnecessarily dramatic sip, he continued speaking while casually pacing around the room.
"You already learned that your currency contains a form of energy tied to free will and culture," the avatar explained. "Well, the same principle applies to your technology." He pointed lazily toward Bertho. "Every action your civilization takes releases traces of cultural energy. Tiny fragments tied to human thought, intention, history, identity, and collective will." His grin widened again. "Quite poetic, honestly."
Nobody interrupted him this time.
"That energy forms a kind of protective layer around the things humanity considers important," the avatar continued. "Weapons. Cities. Infrastructure. Electronics. Objects deeply connected to your civilization become stabilized by the cultural imprint surrounding humanity." He twirled the flask lazily between his fingers. "Mana, however, dislikes stable structures. It prefers movement, adaptation, and natural flow. Things created artificially are especially vulnerable."
Arin frowned slightly while listening carefully.
"Take computer chips for example," the avatar continued while conjuring a floating image of a circuit board above the fireplace. "Modern electronics rely on incredibly precise microscopic structures. Under normal circumstances, mana slowly passes through naturally occurring materials without causing immediate harm." His smile sharpened. "But technology is different. Human-made structures are rigid. Ordered. Delicate. And more importantly…" He tapped the image lightly. "Human intent is embedded into them."
The floating image suddenly distorted and cracked apart.
"A tiny fragment of human soul energy exists inside every crafted object," the avatar explained casually. "It locks the structure into place. Mana naturally flows toward that energy and tears the object apart while trying to absorb or pass through it." He spread his hands theatrically. "Without cultural energy protecting those soul fragments, your technology collapses."
Several people stared at him in stunned silence.
"So our civilization literally protects itself by existing?" Johny asked slowly.
"Correct!" the avatar announced happily while pointing at him. "Congratulations, you understand basic metaphysical infrastructure." He sounded absurdly proud. "As long as large enough human populations remain concentrated together, your technology survives because your collective cultural energy reinforces reality around it."
Bertho's eyes widened slightly. "Which means if Earth expands too quickly…"
"Then humanity becomes too scattered," the avatar finished for him. "The protective field weakens, your satellites die, power grids fail, transportation collapses, and civilization begins speedrunning the dark ages." He sighed wistfully. "Which still sounds fascinating to watch, by the way."
Karl looked genuinely disturbed now.
"That," the avatar continued while pointing dramatically upward, "is why your Earth System intervened. Delaying the integration gives humanity time to consolidate population centers and strengthen cultural energy around critical infrastructure." He gave an exaggerated bow. "Your precious Mother Gaia wishes to preserve your species instead of turning it into historical comedy."
To the avatar's apparent delight, several members of the family actually applauded.
Honestly, at this point, playing along with the cosmic entity seemed far safer than antagonizing him. Besides, despite his horrifying personality, the avatar had been surprisingly informative. The entity himself looked deeply pleased by their reaction. Apparently most civilizations simply sat silently in terror whenever he appeared, which he found boring. Humans, meanwhile, argued with him, questioned him, and occasionally insulted him. He clearly found that entertaining.
"Those explanations raise an alarming number of possibilities," Bertho muttered while rubbing his chin thoughtfully.
"They absolutely do, young man," the avatar replied immediately. "So feel free to experiment wildly. The universe is your playground now." Then he suddenly pointed accusingly at Bertho. "But do not think I failed to notice your attempt at distracting me from the rewards section."
Bertho blinked. "I was not—"
"You almost succeeded," the avatar continued smugly while placing his hands on his hips. "Sadly, I am far too intelligent for such tricks."
The room responded with completely deadpan expressions.
"…Tough crowd," the avatar muttered.
He clapped his hands again, and glowing numbers appeared above the fireplace in enormous golden letters.
"Now then," he declared dramatically, "let us discuss humanity's rewards!" The numbers rotated slowly through the air while confetti inexplicably exploded from somewhere behind him. "First of all, the total amount of points humanity earned during the trial was remarkably respectable considering how weak you all are."
Nobody appreciated that compliment.
"A grand total of 4,889,621,412 points," the avatar announced proudly. "Not bad at all considering the goblins themselves were worth relatively few points individually." He snapped his fingers again, causing the number to shift upward rapidly. "Now we apply the multipliers."
Everyone in the room immediately paid closer attention.
"First," the avatar declared while raising one finger, "humanity receives a fifty percent bonus for successfully completing the trial." Another finger rose. "Second, you receive a seventy-five percent bonus for completing the war in under one year." The glowing numbers continued climbing higher above them. "Third, an additional five percent for resisting the goblin luck manipulation strategy before it became irreversible." His grin widened slightly. "And finally, another ten percent for capturing the portal within acceptable casualty projections."
The atmosphere brightened noticeably.
Then the avatar's expression darkened theatrically.
"Unfortunately," he sighed dramatically, "humanity also receives penalties." The numbers slowed slightly. "You lose ten percent because your species allowed its luck to be stolen for nearly three months before correcting the problem." He raised another finger. "And you lose twenty-five percent because you temporarily lost control over the primary battlefield."
Several people winced.
"But!" the avatar suddenly shouted while throwing his arms into the air. "After all calculations are completed, humanity still doubles its total score!" The numbers exploded upward in a flash of golden light. "Congratulations! Humanity officially finishes the First Trial with a grand total of 9,779,242,824 points!"
Confetti erupted everywhere.
Bill actually got hit directly in the face by several pieces.
The avatar ignored him completely and bowed elegantly toward the room. "That concludes your general trial summary," he announced proudly. "You may now spend time discussing your future plans, the establishment of your factions, and how spectacularly humanity intends to confuse itself moving forward."
He adjusted his hat slightly before grinning once more.
"Do not worry," he added cheerfully. "There is still much more suffering, panic, and existential dread to come." His smile widened dangerously. " In the next trail, I will even include an individual summary. He added cheerfully.
Several people groaned immediately.
The avatar laughed softly before taking a deep theatrical bow. Then, with a snap of his fingers, his body dissolved into swirling clouds of colored smoke that scattered harmlessly through the air, leaving only the crackling fireplace behind once more.