Leon's sword was mere inches from the Goblin Chief's heart when the monster's eyes flashed red, its muscles swelling violently as it activated {Surge}, the racial trait of the goblin race—only this time, it was far stronger than anything Leon had seen.
The sheer force of the surge sent a wave of pressure through the tent, rattling bones and cages alike. The chief's body blurred, then disappeared altogether.
In the blink of an eye, it reappeared behind Leon—blade raised overhead in a brutal arc. The move was so fast, it seemed like teleportation.
Leon was still completing the stabbing motion through empty air when his echolocation screamed danger behind him.
Without hesitation, Leon burned 20 Attack Points, adding +200 to Speed temporarily.
System Notification:
[Speed +200 (Temporary)]
[Current Attack Points: 9980/10000]
The world slowed for Leon. Muscles tensed, feet shifted, and with a swift pivot, he dashed forward, evading the downward cleave of the Chief's sword by a hair's breadth.
The Chief's blade slammed into the ground, carving a deep gash through the dirt and stone flooring.
The Goblin Chief stared at Leon with visible confusion, its beastly mind trying to process how this human avoided a strike no other ever had.
It had fought and crushed dozens of humans—none had ever displayed such sudden bursts of speed.
But Leon wasn't done.
His eyes remained sharp, his gaze focused, expression calm, lips pressed into a thin line.
He wasn't thinking.
He was acting.
System Notification:
[Attack Points Burned: 980]
[Current Attack Points: 9000/10000]
[All Stats +9800 (Temporary Boost)]
Leon had hesitated to burn his Attack Points earlier, hoping to save them for a permanent stat boost—but with the Goblin Chief's strength pressing him, he chose to really go all out.
Power surged through his body like liquid lightning. Every muscle, every tendon tightened with explosive potential.
His aura became overwhelming, crackling like a storm pressing in on all sides. Even the air bent around him.
The Goblin Chief froze. Its instincts—honed through dozens of battles—screamed a single message: run.
It obeyed without hesitation, dropping its massive sword and turning to flee.
But it was too late.
Before the blade had fully left its clawed hand, Leon was already behind it—standing still, sword sheathed.
The Chief stiffened.
No blow had landed—or so it thought. Then, thin red lines began to stretch across its massive green body, crossing in intricate, deadly patterns: neck, shoulders, torso, arms, legs.
In a fraction of a second, Leon had delivered over a thousand slashes, faster than the eye could register.
So fast, the blade never even seemed to leave its scabbard.
The Goblin Chief's eyes widened, its life flashing in an instant—memories of battles, bloodshed, and its mistake of ever underestimating the human before it.
Its body split apart, cleanly and silently, before collapsing to the ground in a rain of limbs and gore.
Leon exhaled calmly as the silence returned to the tent.
He had won.
****
As the body of the Goblin Chief collapsed into scattered chunks, a wave of silence settled over the tent. Then—
[Ding!]
[Congratulations. You have defeated the Goblin Chief and cleared Tier VII – F-Rank Zone: Goblin Village.]
[Your rewards have been sent to your inventory.]
Leon exhaled, his tense body loosening as a grin tugged at his lips. "Finally... I can leave this place. Thank God," he muttered, his entire demeanor shifting. The cold-blooded warrior was gone, replaced by his usual laid-back self.
He turned to the bone cage, where the captured women trembled in silence. With a few quick slashes, the bone bars shattered.
He stepped inside and picked up the scattered clothes the goblins had torn away, handing them out one by one. "Here. Wear these," he said, not sparing them a second glance.
Once the women were dressed, Leon casually stated, "There are no more goblins in this village. So you're free to go."
The women, though grateful, looked at him cautiously. Leon tilted his head, raising a brow as he thought. "Are they afraid of me?"
In truth, the way Leon fought made him seem more like a monster than a man.
But now, standing calmly in front of them, his face revealed under the flickering light, they realized something else: he was impossibly handsome.
None of them, despite their pasts, had ever seen someone as handsome as him and that was saying a lot because their work involved them meeting a lot of men.
Slowly, they stepped out of the tent. As they reached the entrance, they turned and bowed deeply. "Thank you… for saving us."
Leon just gave a wave, already turning away. He had no intention of escorting them out of the forest—nor could he.
His movement was restricted to the boundaries of the trial zone.
As the women left another notification appeared before him:
[You have 10 seconds remaining in the trial zone.]
[10… 9… 8…]
The countdown continued, each number flashing before his eyes.
[3… 2… 1—]
Leon vanished, his body dissolving into motes of light.
Moments later, one of the rescued women returned to the tent, hesitantly peeking inside with something to say.
But Leon was already gone.
He had already left their world entirely.
****
A sprawling human settlement stretched across the horizon, built into the very heart of the Trial World. Towering walls surrounded it, reinforced with glowing runes and guarded by elite trial takers.
The air buzzed with motion—figures zipped through the sky, some flying on wings of light or riding spectral beasts, while others shimmered into view atop the many teleportation platforms that dotted the grounds.
Some platforms flashed as new arrivals appeared from the real world; others dimmed as veterans returned home after surviving brutal trials.
This was humanity's stronghold in the Trial World—a fortress of power, pride, and ambition.
At the edge of the stronghold, far from the teleportation platforms, a faint light pulsed… and Leon appeared.
Unlike others who returned through the platforms, those who cleared their first trial always emerged here.
His sudden arrival caught the attention of several onlookers. Their eyes narrowed, then quickly turned away with disinterest.
In their minds, anyone who took 28 days to finish a trial had to be weak—a bottom-feeder not worth a second thought.
No one bothered asking what difficulty he faced; they believed whatever fit their narrative.
But Leon didn't care.
He looked around once, adjusted his clothes, and began walking toward the heart of the stronghold.
He was content. As long As He knew what he had achieved. That was enough.
Then—
"Well, well, well… How the mighty Leon Kael has fallen," came an obnoxious voice behind him, loud enough to draw attention. "Nearly a month in the trial? I didn't know you were that weak."
Laughter followed, sharp and mocking. Three boys stood behind the speaker, clearly his lackeys, feeding off his arrogance.
Leon paused, turning slowly with a neutral expression. The speaker looked familiar—one of his classmates during the one-year training. Leon had never bothered to learn his name.
Why remember something so... insignificant?
Still, he was in a good mood today. Clearing a Tier VII F-rank trial had lifted his spirits.
He smiled faintly and asked, genuinely curious, "What was your name again?"
The laughter stopped instantly as the smug looks vanished, replaced by glares.
But Leon's smile remained.
****
Goblin Chief's Stats
Strength: 700
Speed: 550
Vitality: 700
Stamina: 500
Senses: 250
Blood Power: 300
...
...
...
A/N: Please send power stones and leave reviews.
...
...
...