The climax of the carnage ended not with a roar, but with a sickening thud. Leon drove a fist into Xenes's gut with such catastrophic force that the shockwave rippled through the air, sending the Legend skidding across the dirt. Xenes collapsed, clutching his stomach as he coughed up a spray of crimson, his pride and power utterly broken.
Leon began to walk toward him, his aura flickering like a dying star, until a weak, fractured voice drifted through the static of his rage.
"Leon... stop... please."
It was Ron. She lay in the dirt, reaching out with a trembling hand, her eyes clouded with pain and fear. That voice cut through Leon's bloodlust like a blade through butter. The realization of what he had become—and why he had started this—hit him all at once.
The Realm of the Almighty began to shatter like a falling mirror, the golden alien gods vanishing to reveal the charred remains of the garden. Leon ignored the fleeing Xenes and rushed to Ron's side. He poured his essence into her, knitting her bones and sealing her wounds with a frantic, desperate tenderness. As her eyes closed and she slipped into unconsciousness, he gathered her into his arms.
Xenes Roman didn't look back. He used every scrap of energy left in his battered soul to flee the forest. The mission was a failure, but his survival was a miracle he didn't care to question.
In the distant throne room, the mysterious figure watched the glowing orb dim as the palace collapsed. He was neither horrified nor deterred; he was entranced.
"Finally," he whispered, a vile, jagged laughter erupting from his throat. "My ascension. This is truly the power of a deity. With this, I can finally surpass him."
Ron woke the next day in the quiet of the school infirmary. Her head throbbed, and her memories of the previous day were sharp—too sharp. She saw Leon sleeping in a chair by her bedside, his face pale and exhausted. She remembered the gods in the sky. She remembered the sinister smile on his face as he tortured a Legend.
She decided then, in the silence of the room, that she would not confront him. Not yet.
When she was discharged later that day, she avoided his gaze, leaving Leon to wander the woods alone, consumed by a gnawing dread. She thinks I'm a monster, he thought, the silence of the trees feeling like a cage.
Leon's aimless walk led him to the banks of a crystalline pond, where the air was filled with a melody so beautiful it seemed to pull the grief right out of his chest. Sitting by the water was Mr. Luther, the new teacher, watching the fish glide through the reeds.
"Hey, Mr. Luther," Leon called out softly.
"Oh... hello there. You're... Leon, right?" Luther asked, his warm smile returning.
"Yes, sir. What are you doing all the way out here?"
"Observing nature," Luther replied, gesturing to the water. "It's beautiful and calm, isn't it? Even if it can be disastrous at times, the beauty remains."
"People only see the beauty because they choose to ignore the disaster," Leon countered, his voice heavy with the weight of his secret. "Isn't that just running from the truth?"
"No," Luther said gently. "It's choosing which truth to live by. Nature doesn't hide its dark side, but those who cherish it choose to defend the light."
Leon paused, the water reflecting his troubled face. "May I ask your advice? If you had a power that could alter everything... a power that felt like a burden, like a monster living inside you. Would you hide it, or show it and face the consequences?"
Luther turned to him, his eyes piercing. "If you can alter everything to your will, why not alter yourself? If the power is a burden, give it away. Perhaps someone else could work wonders with it. Remember, Leon, there is always a third option."
Leon's heart skipped a beat. He realized he had said too much. "I... I just feel like the Theft skill is too much for me. I don't deserve it."
The warmth in Luther's face didn't fade, but his voice suddenly dropped to a chilling, razor-thin register that froze the air between them.
"You are not the Theft skill user, Leon. But I am curious... what skill do you use?"
The silence of the woods became a suffocating weight. Leon felt his heart hammer against his ribs—a sensation he hadn't felt even while facing the Black Dragons. Luther's question wasn't just a suspicion; it was a verdict.
How could the lie have failed? Both Ren and Xenes had doubted him, but he had dismissed it as the confusion of men facing a god. Now, standing before this "gentle" teacher, Leon felt the foundation of his secret crumbling.
"I am a Theft skill user," Leon insisted, his voice steady despite the storm in his mind. "Why would you think that's a lie?"
"Isn't it obvious?" Luther replied, his warmth evaporating like mist. "Theft is a Primordial Skill. The universe is a strict accountant, Leon. It only allows one user per era. If the predecessor hasn't crossed the veil of death, a successor cannot be born."
Leon's confusion deepened. He had scoured the archives; he was certain the last user had perished sixty years ago. No one had been recorded since. "But... there is no other user except me. Why are you so certain I'm lying?"
Luther stood up slowly, matching Leon's height. The "S-Rank Elemental" aura he usually projected flickered, revealing something much older and more predatory beneath. "Tell me, boy. What do you know about the previous user?"
"He was born over two centuries ago," Leon responded, drawing on his research. "He lived for over a hundred years before his death. Since then, the seat has been empty... until me."
"And his name?" Luther prompted. "How did he die?"
"Lace Freeman de Alson," Leon said confidently. "He died attempting a forbidden experiment. He vanished into nothingness, and the site of his failure has been a forbidden zone ever since. No one is allowed to go there."
Luther let out a short, dry chuckle that held no humor. "And you believe he's dead?"
"He should be!" Leon countered. "He was already old when he vanished. Even if he survived the experiment, two hundred years is beyond the limit of human life. There is no way he's still alive."
"What if he found a way to transcend?" Luther's expression turned ice-cold. "What if he found the path to immortality? Don't tell me your imagination is so limited that you cannot see the potential of the very skill you claim to possess."
Leon froze. "Transcending death? That's impossible. How could a human possess such an ability?"
"Theft is the only skill humanity truly fears because they do not understand it," Luther whispered, a sinister smile finally spreading across his face. "Only two users in history have ever held the Primordial Theft skill. And I know for a fact, Leon... that you aren't one of them."
In that moment, the puzzle pieces slammed into place. The knowing looks in class. The impossible depth of his knowledge. The way he spoke of the "True Names" of the pillars. Leon had been so focused on hiding his own monstrosity that he hadn't noticed the devil sitting in the front of the room.
"It can't be," Leon gasped, his eyes wide. "You... you are Lace Freeman? The Legendary Theft user?"
"Bingo," the man replied, the "Luther" persona falling away like a discarded mask.
The realization hit Leon like a physical blow. Lace Freeman was a Legend who had survived for centuries by stealing the very concept of time or life from others. He had walked into the Academy as an "S-Rank Elemental" just to bait the one person the administration claimed was his successor. The other Legends knew Lace was alive—that's why they knew Leon was a fraud.
"This is impossible," Leon muttered, his mind reeling. "How? How did you survive that long?"
Lace Freeman took a short, deliberate pause. His eyes glittered with an ancient, dark hunger as he stepped closer, his shadow stretching out to swallow Leon's feet.
"You're about to find out."