CHAPTER 211: EX 211. A WHITE LIE

James and his team moved quickly through the dense undergrowth, leading Leon toward the clearing where their vessel waited. When the trees parted, Leon slowed to a stop, his eyes narrowing at the strange craft resting on the mossy ground.

It was shaped like a boat, with a wide deck for passengers and a carved helm at the back where runes faintly glimmered. But unlike any boat he had seen, it bore no sails, no oars, it was fitted with a core of light, like a caged star, humming faintly beneath its hull.

Leon blinked. The words slipped out of his mouth before he could catch them.

"What is this?"

The reaction was immediate.

James turned sharply, his brows arching, and the others exchanged glances. The look they gave him was the kind one gave a man who had just asked what fire was. It was strange, unbelievable and Illiterate.

James’s tone carried that same edge of disbelief.

"You don’t know about a flying vessel?"

Leon froze, his jaw tightening as realization struck. He’d slipped.

Inwardly, he cursed himself.

’I really fucked up there.’

There were rules to surviving inside the trial world rules not written anywhere, but ones every trial taker learned quickly if they wanted to keep suspicion off their backs. There were questions you could ask, and questions you never should.

Asking about a city you hadn’t visited yet? Fine. Asking about the nature of "air" or "walking" because you’d somehow never experienced them? That was a death sentence for credibility. And judging from their expressions, this "flying vessel" fell much closer to the latter.

’Damn it. That look on James’s face... he thinks I’m some dumbass who doesn’t know the first thing about the world. That’s not gonna stand.’

Forcing his expression calm, Leon let a faint smile curl his lips.

"A flying vessel, huh? After all my years in this forest, this is my first time seeing something like this."

That line seemed to ease some of the disbelief, at least until Carl, the burly warrior at James’s left, caught onto the words he’d slipped in.

"All your years in the forest?" Carl asked, his brows knitting. "Sir Leon... have you never left the forest?"

The question hung in the air, everyone now watching him.

Leon smirked inwardly.

’Got them.’

He let his face shift, hardening into something grim, almost haunted. He even tilted his gaze slightly downward, as if remembering something he’d rather forget. His voice dropped to a low, steady timbre.

"Yes. Fourteen years ago, I was abandoned in this accursed forest."

The silence that followed was heavy, the weight of his words falling over the group like mist. Their expressions shifted from suspicion to quiet shock, some even tinged with sympathy.

The bullshitting had begun, and Leon intended to see it through until it became truth.

****

Leon’s gaze was distant, his voice calm yet carrying an undertone of heaviness as he wove his tale.

"I can’t remember it clearly," he began, his tone clipped, as though forcing the words past something lodged deep in his throat. "It was long ago... and after so many near-death encounters, the details blurred even further. But I’ll never forget one thing; that I came from a household that showed me so much love, and treated me as their own."

The faint shine in his eye made the words land heavier than he’d intended.

James and the others exchanged subtle glances, but it was Crystal, the only woman among them, hardened by years of battles and bloodshed, whose gaze lingered on him. She’d buried her heart in steel long ago, yet something in that quiet longing stirred a crack through her cold armor.

Leon continued, his voice low, and weighted by a grief he didn’t truly carry but wore like a mask.

"But it all changed... one night. I can’t recall the exact time, those memories are blurred and hazy. But that night still hunts me whenever I close my eyes. And to be honest... I’d prefer not to remember them at all."

Crystal flinched, her lips parting before she could stop herself. "It’s okay, Sir Leon."

Her voice trembled, betraying her effort not to cry.

Leon turned his gaze toward her, brows knitting faintly as if conflicted.

’Am I taking this too far?’ he wondered. Her clenched fists and glassy eyes made him hesitate, but not enough to stop. He’d started this lie, and now he had to see it through.

He sighed, lowering his tone again, adding weight where none belonged.

"After that night... I was brought to this forest. At the tender age of five. And I was given one instruction."

He let his face twist as though recalling something vital, his expression carved with a hollow sharpness.

"It was to survive. At all cost."

James and his team went stiff, his words sinking in deeper than Leon intended.

Leon lifted his gaze, looking at each of them before speaking again.

"And that’s what I did. At first it was... unbearable. But then I met my master. After his teachings and his training, survival became second nature. Every scar, every hunt, every lesson in blood turned me into what you see now."

The lie spilled smooth, each word dressed in enough conviction to silence doubt. And the best part? They were eating it up.

James nodded slowly, his eyes narrowing not in suspicion but in understanding. To him, it explained everything, how someone so young could fell a Rank 6 beast, how a boy could walk barefoot through danger as though born from it.

The rest of the team felt the same. To them, Leon’s story wasn’t impossible to them. It was tragic, yes, but also believable.

And beyond all else, it was the only thing that made sense.

Because if Leon wasn’t forged by something extraordinary, then his existence itself defied logic.

And that... was far harder to accept.

****

After Leon finished weaving his "backstory," the group finally boarded the flying vessel bound for Shantel. The polished metal deck hummed faintly under their boots, a low vibration running through the frame as the airship prepared for ascent. Wind curled against its hull, lifting them slightly above the sprawling floor forests.

James and the others had gone quiet, still digesting Leon’s words. His explanation about not knowing the vessel had been simple, almost careless, yet now it made sense to them. A boy thrown into the wilderness at five years old, surviving through the cruel tutelage of some unnamed master, it was a tale they could believe. More than that, it was a tale they wanted to believe.

Crystal especially had softened. Her eyes lingered on Leon, carrying that strange mix of respect and pity, as though he were the protagonist of some tragic ballad. To James, to the rest, Leon was no longer just the prodigy who wielded strength beyond his years, he was a living legend, the abandoned child who endured and rose into power. They could almost hear the verses of his story being sung by bards in taverns across the land.

But for Leon, sitting back at the back, it was just a simple and convenient white lie. Nothing more. He leaned against the the vessels side, letting the wind sting his face, and wondered if he had gone too far.

They believed it. That much was clear. And that should have been the end of it. Yet a quiet unease gnawed at the back of his mind. A lie this small, born only to cover his ignorance, had somehow taken root in their hearts. Now it wasn’t just an excuse, it was becoming a legend, a truth they would carry, a truth they might spread.

Leon narrowed his eyes, at the endless stretch of trees parting before the vessel’s path.

A legend built on a lie... would that come back to bite him?

For the first time, the thought unsettled him.