CHAPTER 44: EX 44. LEON THE MENACE

The Selection Area wasn’t built for show.

From the outside, it was already an awe-inspiring sight—a massive dome that dominated a huge portion of the capital, its sheer size an unspoken warning of what lay within. But the chamber where the cadets had stood before vanishing? That was only a tiny fraction of the true arena.

The real battlefield was hidden behind that—

A vast, sprawling combat zone, teeming with demonic beasts, jagged terrain, and death waiting at every turn.

That was where the cadets had been sent.

Leon appeared within that zone.

His boots landed silently on damp earth. And around him stood trees that were towering and wild. The dense forest hummed with an eerie stillness.

Without hesitation, he closed his eyes and let his senses stretch outward, scanning the zone in all directions.

A few weeks ago, he would’ve needed to activate his Echolocation skill for this kind of detection.

But now it was useless.

’I didn’t even get to use the skill properly before surpassing it.’

His Sense stat alone had rendered it obsolete.

He exhaled softly as the scan completed.

300 meters in every direction there was nothing. No beasts or cadets.

He reached into his inventory and summoned his sword into his hand. The familiar weight settled against his palm with a quiet hum.

"So they dropped us far away from the eachother," he muttered to himself, eyes gleaming. "How cute."

His grin widened slightly, faintly amused by the Federation’s attempt at ’fairness.’

One moment, he stood still beneath the canopy.

The next—

He was gone.

A blur.

A whisper of wind.

A shimmer of movement faster than the eye could follow.

Leon Kael had begun the Selection.

****

The moment the cadets were teleported into the Selection Zone, chaos scattered like broken glass.

All across the massive arena, trial takers spread out, their individual goals splitting them into distinct groups.

Some immediately began their hunt for demonic beasts, rushing into the forests and hills with weapons drawn, eyes blazing with ambition. They were the fighters, those eager to prove themselves through strength and bloodshed.

Others, more cautious—or simply realistic—chose to lay low, concealing themselves among the terrain. Their plan was simple: survive the three days, avoid unnecessary conflict, and walk out with enough points to scrape by so that while the others get eliminated they would be the victors at the end.

And then, as an hour ticked by, the third group emerged.

The predators.

They didn’t care for beasts neither did they want to hide. Their targets were fellow cadets.

In over sixty minutes, the entire zone had become a battlefield—beasts, cadets, and the unforgiving wilds forming a three-way war. Screams echoed. Roars rang out. Magic and steel clashed with primal fury.

In one of the countless skirmishes unfolding...

Two cadets faced off.

One wielded magic—a mage cloaked in crimson robes, his hands wrapped around a gleaming Tier III F-rank staff pulsing with mana.

The other was a warrior, lean and fast, gripping twin daggers that shimmered faintly from item buffs.

The way they fought was not the same as Leon. There was no raw domination or pure stat crushing.

Just a simple style that was was Skill-based and depended on tactics and strategy.

The mage raised his staff. As a red magic circle bloomed mid-air.

"Ignite," he chanted.

A fireball, the size of a basketball, blasted forward with a hiss. The warrior darted aside, muscles reacting before thought, as he activated his Dash skill to close the distance.

His blade aiming for the mage’s throat—

—but the ground beneath his feet suddenly shimmered red.

The warrior flipped back just as a pillar of fire exploded upward, missing him by a breath. The mage wasn’t going down easily.

Flames painted the battlefield, burning trees and melting stone. The warrior weaved through the attacks, but his stamina was slipping. Suddenly an attack landed injuring his right leg and slowing his steps.

The mage smirked. "Thanks for the points."

A magic circle spun to life before his staff, ready to end it.

And then—

ROAAARRRR!!!!!.

The very air vibrated causing both cadets to freeze.

The roar was a fear-type skill, and the source lumbered into view.

A Rank D demonic beast.

It was a two-tailed panther, it’s obsidian fur rippled with malice and its claws scraped the ground with metallic screeches.

The mage’s heart thudded in his chest.

"Shit."

As the panther targeted him first.

Claws raised.

And then—

Sssshk!

The sound of something being sliced was heard.

The mage’s eyes, clenched shut from fear, blinked open slowly.

But the moment he opened them he was shocked by what he saw or in this case what he did not see.

He didn’t see the panther’s body.

He didn’t see the warrior either.

All he saw—

Was a sword coming straight at his neck.

Too fast.

Too close.

Too late.

And before he knew it his body scattered into motes of light before the blade touched him.

Leon stood alone in the clearing, his sword humming softly, warm blood still evaporating off the edge.

A system message flashed before his eyes:

[Eliminated 2 Cadets: +20 Points]

[Killed Rank D Demonic Beast: +400 Points]

He smiled.

Not at the kill.

Not even at the points.

But at the possibility of this actually becoming fun.

"First place on the first day... that sounds like a challenge."

And with that thought, he vanished again—

A phantom in the woods, hunting for his next prey.

****

In the Selection Zone, one name began to spread like wildfire through the ranks of the cadets—

Leon.

He was a menace.

A shadow that struck without warning.

A storm that tore through beast and cadet alike.

Wherever he appeared, the result was always the same—

Either the mangled corpse of a demonic beast, or the disintegrating light of a defeated cadet.

But Leon wasn’t satisfied with just one path of destruction.

To make things faster, more efficient, and more chaotic, he activated his General Skill

[Mirror Split]

A clone, exact in both appearance and stats, burst to life beside him. Without a word, the clone took off in the opposite direction, carrying out the same brutal onslaught.

Now there were two Leons—each equally unstoppable, equally terrifying.

Across the arena, cadets huddled in groups no longer fighting each other because of one common threat.

"Don’t go east. Leon’s there."

"He was in the west too—how’s that possible?"

"Did he teleport?"

"No... no, I saw him twice."

The legend was being written in real time.

And for many cadets, the last thing they ever saw before being eliminated—

was a gleam of cold steel.

The slash of a blade.

And then...

darkness.

But Leon wasn’t the only storm in the arena.

Elizabeth was fighting her own war—one that was quieter, but no less terrifying.

The selection zone was her garden of death, and every demonic beast she slew only made her stronger.

Her talent allowed her to raise the fallen, twisting the corpses of monsters into undead servants.

Each kill added to her growing army.

But unlike Leon—whose power seemed boundless—Elizabeth had her limits.

She could only raise beasts whose strength was beneath her own energy.

So, when she stood before the corpse of such a beast, she knew it was a rare opportunity.

Her hands glowed with dark mana as a black magic circle expanded from her feet, wrapping the corpse in ethereal tendrils of death.

The very air grew cold.

As Elizabeth’s eyes narrowed.

"You’ll be a fine addition..."

But just before the resurrection ritual could complete—

Whoosh—!

An arrow ripped through the air, aimed straight for her heart.