Leon took his seat on his beautifully crafted icy throne, stretching comfortably.
Then, noticing Ira standing sowhat awkwardly to the side, he created another elegant ice throne directly beside his own, specifically for her.
SHIMR! FORM!
"Sit. You’ve earned rest."
Ira was genuinely nervous at first about the presumption of sitting on an equal level with both her aunt and this powerful outsider.
Is this appropriate? Should I—?
But Leon insisted firmly, gesturing to the seat with clear expectation.
She kept glancing nervously at Archon Vyrra for several minutes, carefully watching for any sign of disapproval or offense.
Will Aunt be angry? Is this breaking protocol?
After the first tense minute passed without any negative reaction, Ira gradually relaxed and settled more comfortably into the frozen throne.
It’s... actually quite nice. Cool against the heat.
There was still considerable ti remaining before the rest of the warriors would arrive for whatever ceremony or gathering was planned—probably close to half an hour by Leon’s estimation.
Might as well use this productively.
Leon closed his mystical eyes, crossing one leg elegantly over the other in a relaxed ditative posture.
Then his consciousness smoothly entered the ti-dinsional realm, projecting his awareness inward.
SHIMR! SHIFT!
He materialized at the top of the mountain where their temporary ho had once been located—now just an empty clearing.
No one’s here now. They’ve moved.
Leon could imdiately sense all the presences within his dinsion through his inherent connection.
Hmm. They’re all gathered near one specific location together.
When he thought "all," he was considering everyone currently living inside the dinsional realm—not just his companions, but the various refugees and settlers who’d found sanctuary here.
Leon wasn’t here to disturb anyone’s activities. He simply teleported high into the sky above one of the settlents, observing from a distance.
FWOOSH!
What he saw below made him genuinely proud.
The area looked like an advanced dieval village now—a thriving community rather than the bare grassland it had been initially.
Nicely constructed wooden houses with proper roofs lined with organized pathways. Large cultivated fields of various crops stretched across forrly empty land. Poultry pens, livestock enclosures, and other agricultural infrastructure had been established.
It’s not a barren, empty grassland anymore. It’s actually a ho for many people.
The settlent was modestly bustling with purposeful activity. People were productively busy with their own specialized tasks and responsibilities.
There were also quite a few dedicated training arenas scattered throughout the settlent where residents practiced combat techniques, sparring with each other, and utilizing their different class-specific abilities.
They’re not just surviving. They’re training. Growing stronger.
Leon activated his Illusion affinity to render himself completely invisible to everyone below.
SHIMR! BEND LIGHT!
No need to interrupt or distract them.
But there was one arena significantly larger than all the others combined—clearly the primary training facility.
There, Leon spotted the people he cared about most: Seraphine practicing complex spell patterns, Sylphia working on her combat forms, the energetic bunny demi-human Bunbun bouncing around, Loriel focused intensely on technique refinent, the majestic Kirin beast that had bonded with that young girl, and even the man with the rare Abyssal affinity he’d rescued.
Everyone’s here. Training together.
Currently, Loriel was actively fighting against the kirin in what appeared to be a serious sparring match.
CLASH! STRIKE! DODGE!
The techniques Loriel was employing were ones Leon hadn’t seen her use before—she’d clearly been developing new skills during her ti here.
She seems much more confident now. Good.
She was sustaining injuries during the intense practice—small cuts and scratches, minor burns from the Kirin’s elental attacks—but her deanor remained remarkably calm and focused despite the pain.
Her face shows she absolutely hates every bit of discomfort. But she’s still pushing through regardless.
Leon felt genuinely proud watching her personal growth.
She’s maturing. Becoming stronger not just physically, but ntally.
Satisfied with what he’d observed, Leon teleported directly back to the isolated mountaintop to utilize the remaining ti for his own intensive training.
FWOOSH!
His entire focus concentrated on a specific goal: gaining significantly better control over his Holy elent, which he’d frankly been neglecting in favor of his more familiar affinities.
I need to develop this properly. It’s too powerful to leave underdeveloped.
He wanted to learn at minimum a Level 1 Holy Aura technique—assuming such a thing even existed within this power system.
Does Holy energy follow the sa progression as elental Auras? Or is it fundantally different? I have to experint and find out.
Leon’s training began in earnest, systematically exploring the unique properties of Holy energy and attempting to manifest it as a combat-applicable Aura rather than just raw power enhancent.
SHIMR! GLOW! PULSE!
Thirty-four minutes passed in the outside world while Leon trained—though inside the accelerated ti dinsion, he experienced over five hundred subjective hours of intense practice.
Leon’s eyes suddenly opened back in the physical world, his consciousness smoothly returning.
OPEN!
He’d detected the arrival of many presences approaching the arena simultaneously.
They’re here.
The massive arena was rapidly filling with people. In the center, all the collected loot and harvested materials had been organized under different unit banners, creating distinct sections—an impressive display of the day’s successful hunt.
The sky above beca densely packed with flying creatures accompanied by their respective riders, creating a spectacular aerial display.
SCREECH! FLAP! CIRCLE!
Not every warrior possessed a personal flying mount, but hundreds did, and they circled in organized patterns.
Everyone assembled seed to be waiting expectantly for sothing specific to begin.
So kind of ceremony? Official counting?
As he rembered what Vyrra had said to him earlier.
Archon Vyrra suddenly looked directly at Leon with sharp focus. She hadn’t initially intended to stare, but she absolutely had to—because she’d felt sothing distinctly different about his presence the exact mont his eyes opened.
What changed? The air around him seems different; it feels more refined and sharper. Did he advance during that brief ditation?
She couldn’t quite identify the specific alteration or reason for such a noticeable change, which troubled her analytical mind.
But she dwelt on it too much and moved on to the task ahead.
Her powerful voice suddenly resonated across the entire arena, amplified to reach every gathered warrior:
"We begin the official counting ceremony before the victory celebration comnces!"
Ah. So that’s what everyone was waiting for.
Leon thought with interest, settling back to observe the proceedings.
Archon Vyrra stood, the wind catching the edge of her cloak as she raised her hand for silence. Her voice cut through the noise like a blade:
"Leon."
Every head turned toward him.
Her crimson eyes locked onto his with sharp intensity.
"Step forward and announce how many have you slain"
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