CHAPTER 335: VELVET TYRANT PHYSIC

Velvet Tyrant Physic

It was the fourth day since Leon started integrating his new body—his rebirth.

For three endless days, he had sat at the very center of the blood-soaked hall, huddled on the chill stone floor under faint, dancing light. The emerald sheen of transformation still hung about him, although it had been starting to wane. His legs were crossed neatly, his back impossibly straight, hands loosely on knees, fingers unfurled. He had not shifted once. His silhouette, sharp and calm, was the only thing discernible under the sparse light, making him look like a statue cut from stone. He was less a man and more of a saint in perpetual contemplation, unscathed by the world around him.

The first day had been a hell. His body had been ripped to pieces entirely—skin peeling away in strips, flesh dissolving into bubbling pools of blood, and bones being crushed to dust beneath the weight of change. Nothing of the old him had been left intact. Then the rebuilding: bones reshaped into unbreakable pillars, organs born anew with a faint inner radiance, muscles rewoven strand by strand, and skin—smooth, clean, near-luminous—pulled over it all. Under the green light that wrapped around him, that new skin had shone like freshly spun silk.

Now, he sat in that very same spot, cross-legged and unshaking, wrapped in the soft but impenetrable hug of the green glow. It clung to him like a living cocoon, delicate pulses quivering through it in rhythm with his respirations—or what could have been respirations, for even that was impossible to discern. His motionlessness was inhuman, of the type that gave the impression that he had slid outside of time itself. The radiance bathed him in a holy aura, neither dead nor alive, but something suspended between.

The air had been cold since the process started—a cold so profound that it appeared to bite directly into the bone. But now, the mood changed. It crept in slowly, near invisible at first: a strand of warmth spreading its way through the hall, gently displacing the freeze.

With it was a new smell. Initially it was bitter, metallic, almost suffocating — the raw edge of blood mixed with the acrid smell of burned flesh. It hung at the back of the throat like a leech, refusing to release its hold, the sort of odor that could turn even the stomach of the hardened warrior. But as the minutes ticked by, that crushing weight of air began to change, the stench sloughing off like something else — something more — was about to step in and occupy its place.

It was a change so gradual it was nearly imperceptible, like toxic leakage into the atmosphere. The foul air yielded to something startling — a gentle, near-drunkening floral scent. The heat of the hall now bore the light sweetness of flowers in bloom at midnight. It wasn’t heavy or overpowering, but quiet, fresh, and somehow compelling, like a spring wind bearing the scent of flowers across a field.

It was an hour before the change was finished. Then the hall’s cold had become a mellow warmth, enveloping the room in silent comfort. The spots of blood still disfigured the floor. Remnants of blackened flesh still clung persistently to the broken tiles. But their odor had vanished. To a stranger blindfolded stepping in, it would be less a house of slaughter and more a scented garden.

For an entire hour, the green aura grew thinned and unstable, its borders unraveling with each beat of his heart until, finally, it dissolved. Leon’s form stepped out of the mist.

His body was... perfect.

Leon sat where he had before, his hands still lightly placed on his knees, fingers now faultless and powerful. His skin — previously pared down to nothing at all — had come back smoother than ever before, glowing with a sheen of health over tautly cut muscle. His physique was leaner, his proportions sharpened into something that seemed intentionally made. Each shape was delineated, each hint of fat erased.

His visage was tranquil, radiating a serenity that seemed close to divine. Whatever had been roused in him since his Blood Awakening had transmuted his natural charm into something hazardous — a beauty honed to the razor edge. He did not appear quite like a man and more of a god walking among mortals for a little while, but beneath the serenity lay an unmissable huntress quietness, like a lion in silent vigil.

His hair had altered as well. Previously short and wiry, it now cascaded to the bottom of his neck in rich, dark strands that reflected the faint light like gleaming obsidian. It was smooth, black, and impossibly silky — every strand shining like black silk.

Then, gradually, his eyelids opened.

When they did, the hall appeared to light up. Two golden irises glared out — not just eyes, but blazing suns, each with its own draw. Their radiance made the stone walls appear to vibrate softly with light.

For an instant, his sight swirled in blur. He blinked once. Twice. Three times. The haze faded, and clarity hit him like a wave. He was still sitting in the same position, but the hall was... different. All surface, all detail was keener.

His thoughts drifted back. The splintering. The peeling away of all remaining flesh. Rising above himself, observing while his body was reconstructed — bone initially, then organs, nerves, tendons, muscle, and ultimately skin. There had been no pain, merely the odd, detached knowledge of watching himself disassembled and reconstructed.

Then the green light had enveloped him completely. Following that... nothing.

He scowled. His eyes wandered inward, searching, until something within his memory caused him to stop dead.

"My bones..." His scowl deepened. "They... aren’t white anymore."

The vision still seared in his mind — his own bony skeleton, no longer ivory pure, but... aged.

A shiver of shock coursed through him.

"System! System, where the hell are you?!" His shout echoed loudly in his mind.

A voice responded — but it wasn’t the metallic, mechanical sound he was used to. It was a slow, irritated drawl.

[Host, why are you yelling? I’m here. You don’t have to scream in my ear.]

Leon suspended mid-breath. That tone—raspy, alive—wasn’t the metallic, monotonous sound he’d become accustomed to. This voice had something troublingly human. Irritation.

"...S-System?" His voice trembled, uncertainty seeping through. "Your voice... what occurred?

[Ah, nothing. I’ve always been like this,] the system replied, nearly flippant.

Leon’s eyes paused on the radiant interface hovering before him, as if hoping it would grow arms and wave just to show it could. He breathed out slowly, reminding himself to concentrate.

"Alright. Leave that. I’d like to ask you—when my body was rebuilt, why did my bones turn from white to gold?"

[Simple. Because of your new physic, Host.]

"Physic?

[Yes. Your new physic.]

"But how?"

[Host... In this universe, physiques are classified into five main grades: Bronze Physic, Silver Physic, Gold Physic, Purple Physic, and the strongest—Black Physic.]

Leon’s brow creased, attempting to put two and two together. "Five levels... and my Velvet Tyrant Physic is...?"

[Yours—the Velvet Tyrant Physic—is a third level. Gold-level Physic. That’s why your bones turned gold.]

"So... Bronze-level bones remain white. Silver becomes silver. Gold becomes gold. Purple becomes purple. And Black... becomes black?"

[Affirmative, Host.]

Leon nodded slowly, faking to buy the explanation—until a realization pierced his façade. His eyes narrowed. "So... my physic isn’t very strong. Why not provide me with a Black Physic?"

The system’s tone turned cold, all warmth shed.

[Because this world cannot hold it. The power of Black Physic bones would ruin the balance here. Your world would collapse because of your presence.]

The words struck him like ice water. His muscles froze, a chill running down his back even with the heat still remaining in the air. "Crumble...?" He gazed at the interface in silence before softly asking, "Then. what’s the maximum physic this world can support?

[Maximum native limit of your world: Gold Physic. Most beings will never even witness one. Even that is rare. A physic can only be inherited at birth or obtained through extraordinary means. There is no other way.]

Leon let the truth settle, his thoughts scraping against unanswered questions. "So you’re saying... there are other worlds?"

The interface pulsed once.

[ERROR: Host, please keep questions within the boundary of your cultivation.]

Leon’s jaw clenched. "Oh, now you’re mechanical again? Two minutes ago you were sounding like a cranky old man, now you’re back to error prompts?" He clicked his tongue. "Tch. Bastard."

The system provided no response.

Leon exhaled sharply, his eyes falling to the ground—the dried blood, the burned remains of his own flesh still marking the ground. Revulsion worked its way up into his gut, causing his features to twist into a scowl. "Disgusting.

A wave of his fingers released a cleaning spell. A shimmer of light traveled through the air, moving across the space and removing all evidence of dirt. Dust, dirt, and sweat were dissolved into glowing motes that rose upward before they were gone entirely, leaving the hall clean.

He raised his hand again, calling forth a water element. The liquid curled and formed in front of him, flattening into a flawless, mirror-like surface.

When Leon investigated, he didn’t quite recognize the man who stared back.

His jawline was defined, clean as if chiseled with precision. The nose was straight and proud. High cheekbones reflected the light, lips curved in that perfect union of softness and strength. His forehead was smooth, his once-cropped jet-black hair now longer, bracketing a face that was both regal and perilously seductive. And those eyes—golden, sharper and clearer now than ever before, shining like molten metal.

Then his eyes went down to his body. Large shoulders, a chest chiseled like that of a statue, each muscle sharply defined without being overdone, a perfect combination of raw strength and polished grace.

Leon’s mouth opened. "...What the hell... am I a god of charm now?"

A slow, crooked smile pulled at his lips. Then, out of the blue, laughter burst forth.

It began brief, a panty gasp, but soon swelled—richer, louder—until it shook through the hall.

"Haha... ha ha ha... HAHAHAHA! If I was a woman, I’d fall for me on the spot!"

When the echo disappeared, he slightly tilted his head, still gazing at his reflection. "Hey, System. Break down this Velvet Tyrant Physic in detail."

[Affirmative, Host.]

[Velvet Tyrant Physic — Grade: Gold Level Physic

Core Power: The ideal combination of dominance and sensuality. Your very presence subdues enemies and charms female allies.].

Battle Potential: Each movement directs energy through silken muscle and steel bone, allowing both shattering blows and smooth defense. Aura suppression drains opponents’ willpower the more time they spend facing you, while friends are strengthened in your shadow.

Special Trait: Women are secure but charged when around you; foes’ willpower will shatter the longer they battle you.

Leon’s smile widened, golden eyes blazing with fulfillment. "Hahaha... yeah! Fuck, baby, I’m overwhelmed now."

A glimmer of interest flashed in his eyes. He leaned in, tone excited. "System, if my Physic gets better, can I manifest my spirit once more? Or will my manifested spirit be altered as well?"

[Yes, Host. But you might want to hold off on that. You have a Soul Artifact to activate.]

Leon snapped his fingers. "Oh yeah. I had forgotten. Let’s open it. Hope it’s something broken-level powerful."

A new notification popped up in front of him.

[Soul Artifact detected. Open now? Y/N]

His sneer grew. "Well... yes."

[DING!]