After finishing dinner with his family, Leon returned to his room and sank into the bed with a quiet thud. The sheets were cool against his skin, the familiar scent of home helping his body relax—though his mind hadn’t caught up just yet.
With a thought, he summoned his Talent interface. A soft hum filled the room as a translucent screen materialized before him.
> [Attack Points: 9700 / 10,000]
Leon stared at the number, exhaling sharply through his nose.
"Another day without a full load," he muttered, rubbing his temples.
He knew those 300 points were necessary—they helped him end that demon. But still, it stung. He was so close to ten thousand. So close to pushing his limits even further.
Unconsciously, he’d started treating every point like a priceless gem.
Any other trial taker would have gone mad with joy just from earning a quarter of what he was about to inject into his body.
For Leon, though, this was already normal. It had become his path to power—one that no one else could walk.
After a moment of hesitation, he began allocating his stats, finger gliding through the interface with practiced ease.
Talent: {Attack} — EX Rank
Strength: 595>606 (+11)
Speed: 548> 559 (+11)
Vitality: 530> 541 (+11)
Stamina: 525 >536 (+11)
Senses: 490>530 (+40)
[Phantom Edge – Form 1: Flicker Fang]
Leon nodded in satisfaction. The extra boost to Senses felt right. If he’d had better awareness earlier, maybe things would have gone differently with the demon.
Since he was done distributing his stats points, he dismissed the screen and picked up his phone. A quick glance at his notifications showed two unread messages. His contact list wasn’t long—so it didn’t take a genius to guess who it was.
The first was from Elizabeth.
[Lizzie: How was your outing with Adrian?]
Leon smiled faintly. She knew about the outing—after all, he was supposed to go out with her but she was busy with training.
[Leon: It was fine. Nothing too crazy. Got some ice cream.]
He wisely left out the part where he got arrested and interrogated like a criminal.
Then, he tapped open the second message.
Leon blinked. That was it?
He stared at the screen for a moment, then shrugged and typed:
He stared at the message for a second longer, then nodded to himself.
Phone plugged in, he set it on the nightstand and pulled the blanket over his body. The lights dimmed as his ceiling stared back at him.
The events of the day spiraled through his thoughts like a slow-moving storm.
"The Ferans... they’re the most likely suspects."
His parents thought the same, but revenge—especially political revenge—required patience and Proof.
Still, the mere thought left a bitter taste in Leon’s mouth.
I might’ve been sleeping in a cell right now."
He turned on his side, brows furrowed.
His talent had given him strength. Made him a monster in battle. But that strength wasn’t keeping up with the speed at which threats were growing around him.
"What I need now... is an Evo Point."
But so far, he had not even received one.
He let out a long, tired sigh.
"I’ll just have to keep grinding," he muttered. "But for now..."
Another sigh. This time softer. Less bitter.
"...I just need to sleep."
And with that, exhaustion took hold. The stress, the combat, the arrest—it all finally caught up.
Leon Kael drifted into sleep, the soft sound of his breathing the only thing left in the quiet room.
In the heart of a cavernous chamber shrouded in darkness, a single torch flickered weakly against the stone walls, casting long, dancing shadows. The air was thick with incense but then the silence was broken by the soft echo of approaching footsteps.
A robed man stepped forward and knelt, his head bowed low before a looming silhouette cloaked in shadows. The figure’s presence seemed to warp the very air around it—indistinct, ever-shifting, as though it were made of smoke and void.
"My lord," the man said, voice trembling with reverence and fear, "the boy has been released."
For a long moment, the chamber was silent.
Then, a voice filled the space—not one voice, but many, overlapping in discordant harmony. Male and female. Old and young. All speaking in unison.
"So... he is the one."
The servant dared not respond. He knew what this meant. For Leon Kael to walk free, without any investigations done to prove his innocence only meant one thing.
He had actually tackled a Tier VII trial.
But it wasn’t mere speculation.
The mall incident had been orchestrated from the start.
The demon was planted there to test his strength and the investigator was fed false evidence to escalate the issue.
Gordon was a carefully selected pawn because he was driven by a deep-seated hatred for nobles—chosen precisely because he could be so easily manipulated.
And after everything they had needed only to observe and confirm. To see if the boy truly held power beyond the realm of normal Trial Takers.
Leon’s capture had never been part of the plan no far from it what they were concerned with was his release... that said everything.
The shadowed figure stirred, its form rippling like a cloak of living darkness.
"The will of our god moves through him. In the boy, we have found... not just a weapon.....but a vessel."
The words hung in the air like prophecy, vibrating with unnatural resonance. The kneeling follower bowed even lower, pressing his forehead to the cold floor.
"Hail the Demon God."
The figure’s chorus of voices rose once more, deeper, darker, echoing with twisted reverence.
"Hail... the Demon God."
And then the torch flickered... and died.
The week after Leon’s arrest passed in a blur—quick, quiet, and uneventful.
No further incidents occured. And for Leon, that meant time—precious time—to do what he did best.
His stats increased, piece by piece but there was a weight in the air—a tension he couldn’t shake. The kind that settled before a battlefield roared to life. Something was coming. He could feel it.
And then, at last, the waiting ended.
Deployment day arrived.
The day when he, Elizabeth, Adrian, and every other Trial Cadet selected for the border squads would leave there homes and move toward the Federation’s bleeding edge, where demons prowled and war never truly ended.
Leon stood by his window that morning, the rising sun painting his face in gold. His bag was already packed. But he didn’t move. Not yet.
For the first time in a week, he let the silence linger.
Because after today, there would be no more quiet. No more peace.
Talent: {Attack} — EX Rank
Strength: 606>726 (+120)
Vitality: 541>656(+115)
Stamina: 536>651 (+115)
Senses: 530>650(+120)
[Phantom Edge – Form 1: Flicker Fang]
A/N: Mass release if we are able to get 80 golden tickets before Sunday and thanks for reading.