Leon stared at the brilliance before him.
The Origin defied understanding.
It was infinitely vast and impossibly small, expanding and contracting in a rhythm that made mockery of time.
One couldn’t grasp its full form, yet the mind somehow knew what it looked like; the paradox of perfection.
It was creation and destruction.
Beginning and end.
Chaos and order intertwined.
Every art, every soul, every world, all came from Origin.
Leon drifted closer, unable to resist its pull.
The light wasn’t blinding, but consuming; it reached into his very essence, peeling back layers of self until he was nothing but awareness. Then, something deep within him stirred, a faint tug, but not from [Attack].
He knew that sensation.
It was his Overlord Talent.
"Mark," he murmured, and the realm responded.
A flood of knowledge tore through him.
Words that weren’t words, truths beyond translation.
He saw flashes, four blazing marks, each tied to a throne of power that could rewrite existence itself.
His own mark was one of them. Only four Overlord Talents had ever existed in the known cosmos, and now he understood why.
They weren’t born; they were chosen.
And more importantly, he now knew how to use it.
As the torrent of knowledge settled, Leon exhaled slowly, a faint smile tugging at his lips.
"So that’s how it’s meant to be done..."
Origin pulsed once, then a torrent of pure energy surged into him.
The flow was endless, ancient and divine.
It filled every inch of his being, and Leon knew exactly what to do with it.
It was what he planned from the very beginning.
He began shaping it.
pressing, refining and molding the impossible into form.
He was manually creating his core.
But not just any core, something purer, something no mortal was ever meant to forge.
An Origin Core.
—
Meanwhile, in the Imperial Throne Room, chaos had long settled into stunned silence.
Emperor Alexander stood before the viewing orb, his usually posed expression cracked by awe. The image reflected in the sphere was something no human eye should see, Leon Kael floating midair, threads of light wrapping around him like celestial veins, the laws of reality bending to his will.
"...To reach Rank 5, one must first create a core," Alexander said absently, speaking more to himself than anyone.
"That’s the foundation of the art system. Most thought that was the end of the path... but Julius knew better."
Beside him, Genevieve listened quietly, her gaze fixed on her brother.
Alexander continued, his tone growing solemn.
"To reach Rank 6, one must feed the core, letting it overflow with energy until it bees a second heart. This process renders them nearly inexhaustible."
"To reach Rank 7—the threshold of divinity—one must form a bridge between mind and core. That grants control over natural forces, the telekinetic faculty of the enlightened."
"At Rank 8, that energy evolves, mana and aura chnage to essence... canceling the difference between a warrior and mage."
And at Rank 9..." He paused, eyes narrowing.
"At Rank 9, one forges their Law."
Genevieve’s brow furrowed.
"Then if Leon—"
Alexander nodded slowly.
"If what he’s doing is truly what I think it is... then an Origin Core bypasses two of those stages entirely."
His voice dropped to a whisper.
"His rise will be like an ascending star."
Genevieve’s breath caught.
For someone as studied as her, that statement carried terrifying weight.
She stared at the orb again, where the light from Leon’s room was already breaking through the palace walls, a golden storm tearing through the capital skies.
"Pandora will tremble..." she whispered.
And at that exact moment—
A massive surge of energy erupted from Leon’s chamber, a pillar of pure gold lancing upward, splitting the clouds and shaking the continent to its core.
Within the light, Leon’s Origin Core was born.
****
In the stillness of Leon’s mind, a low, awed voice broke the silence.
"An Origin Core with purity over ninety percent..."
Originus’ words trembled with something rarely heard from the primordial dragon—reverence.
"I knew binding with you was the right choice, boy... but now I am certain. It was my destiny to witness your rise."
The dragon’s voice faded, replaced by the deep, rhythmic hum of creation itself.
Leon sat suspended above the ground, eyes closed, body enveloped in golden light.
At his center, the newly formed core pulsed—alive, radiant, divine.
The moment it stabilized, Leon could feel it.
The boundless energy coursing through his veins, so dense it warped the air around him.
His breath deepened.
The core expanded once—
and he ascended to Rank B.
But it didn’t stop.
A flood of power burst from Origin, filling the core faster than Leon could react.
The energy obeyed no laws, no rhythm, yet it moved through him with purpose.
His veins glowed, his aura flared like a newborn star.
In a single heartbeat, the core reached saturation—
and Leon advanced to Rank A.
Then came the next stage.
Just like a lover drawn toward its counterpart, the core sought the mind, yearning to merge. Leon’s consciousness wavered as his spirit and core intertwined.
Thought bled into power, power into being.
Every pulse of energy shook the palace around him.
The fusion built to a crescendo, the tension unbearable—
and then, with a soundless collapse, core and mind became one.
Light exploded outward.
The Imperial Palace shook violently, its foundations trembling as waves of divine pressure spread across the capital.
Towers cracked, beasts knelt, and even distant mountains groaned beneath the weight of his awakening.
Across Pandora, those attuned to nature looked up at the golden pillar blazing through the heavens.
It pierced the clouds, splitting day and night apart.
In the throne room, Alexander stood rooted, awe spreading across his face.
"He... he’s done it," he whispered.
At the same instant, Originus let out a low, thunderous laugh that echoed inside Leon’s soul.
And in that instant, all of Pandora trembled, for Leon Kael had broken the mortal wall.
With one leap, one impossible act,
he had ascended to the Divine.
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