Avril walked back to stand beside Leo, her steps light, almost floating. Leo was still staring at her — wide-eyed, stunned — as if the world had momentarily forgotten to explain what had just happened.
She turned to him with a playful, coy tilt of her head.
"I'm not ready for you to eat me up," she said softly, cheeks blooming pink.
The words hit like a thunderclap.
A wave of murderous glares instantly shot toward Leo from almost every boy in the crowd. Some stiffened. Some clenched their jaws. A few whispered curses under their breath.
Leo felt every stare like icy daggers.
A shiver ran down his spine. Avril looked at him with a sly smirk that screamed that she did that intentionally.
In a panic, he quickly stepped forward, scratching the back of his head awkwardly.
"A-Ah— I, uh… I'm Leonel Harrynader," he announced, voice surprisingly steady despite the chaos beating in his chest.
Silence.
Then the murmurs erupted.
"Harrynader? Who's that?"
"Isn't he supposed to be from a legacy family?"
"I thought the strong ones were done…"
"So the amazing performances end here, huh?"
Disappointment rippled through the spectators like a cold breeze.
Some shook their heads.
Some sighed.
Some simply stopped paying attention, already convinced that nothing impressive could possibly follow after the titans who had gone before.
Leo felt their expectations crash around him. Felt the weight of every doubtful stare. Felt the sting of being dismissed before he had even begun.
But deep inside — beneath the nerves, beneath the awkward grin, beneath the fear —
something else flickered.
Something small.
Something stubborn.
Something waiting.
And though the crowd couldn't see it yet…
they would.
Leo nodded at Void, who gave him an unreadable glance, then walked toward the agility test machine. Each step he took seemed to drain away the last traces of his earlier awkwardness. By the time he stood before the device, the shy, flustered boy was gone.
His expression tightened.
His shoulders squared.
A quiet seriousness settled over him like a second skin.
The crowd, half-distracted and barely interested, barely looked his way.
He placed his hand on the panel.
The machine hummed.
Leo started the test. He took slow strides.
For the first few seconds, the numbers crawled up painfully slow.
1.8… 3.2… 4.6… 5.3… 5.9…
A couple of students snickered.
Someone whispered, "See? Told you. Nothing special."
But then—
The display twitched.
A faint click.
A sharp whine.
And the numbers suddenly launched upward, accelerating so fast the screen struggled to keep up.
6.8… 7.5… 8.7… 9.4—
Gasps cut through the field.
The machine shook.
The readings blurred.
Even Void leaned forward, eyes narrowing.
Finally, the numbers slowed… then froze.
The final result gleamed across the board:
10.0
Silence.
A suffocating, stunned silence.
The laughter died.
The smirks vanished.
Even the ones who had dismissed him outright were frozen, mouths slightly open, trying to process what they were seeing.
A score that only monsters achieved.
A score that rivaled the top prodigies of the academy.
A score no one had expected from Leonel Harrynader — whoever that even was.
Leo slowly lowered his hand, expression still calm, but a faint tremor of adrenaline danced in his eyes.
He turned back toward the crowd.
And now?
Every gaze was on him.
Not with boredom.
Not with pity.
But with fear.
And awe.
Leo stopped his strides and hopped off the treadmill with a light, almost effortless motion — as if the machine hadn't just registered one of the most terrifying scores of the exam.
A hush clung to the field.
Avril stared at him, her lips parted slightly, eyes wide with disbelief.
"…Is that really Leo?" she asked softly, not directing the question to anyone in particular.
Beside her, Alauna folded her arms, still processing what she had seen.
"Wow… he's awesome," she murmured, genuine admiration in her voice.
Avril's gaze snapped toward her.
"If I were you," Avril said quietly, almost too calmly, "I wouldn't want to get close to that guy."
Alauna blinked. "…Huh? Why?"
Avril's eyes followed Leo as he walked back toward the center of the field — the sun casting a sharp outline around him, the crowd parting instinctively as if drawn back by an unseen force.
"He's a pervert" she said so seriously that Alauna was stumped "and he already has eyes set on you" she continued. Alauna raised her eyebrows and shook her head at her old friends antics.
Leo had stepped forward as a nobody.
But the person who stepped off that treadmill?
Was something entirely different
Leo walked toward the strength-testing platform, and this time the crowd didn't just watch him —
they tracked him.
Every step.
Every breath.
Every twitch of muscle.
As if their eyes alone could peel back whatever mystery he had just revealed.
He reached the hammer, wrapping his fingers around the grip. The metal creaked softly under the pressure of his grasp. A ripple of muscle rolled beneath his shirt as he flexed, settling into position.
The field held its breath.
Then—
BOOOOM!
The hammer crashed into the drum like a thunderbolt, the impact shaking the air and vibrating through the ground. The power was raw, sharp, and impossible to ignore.
The slot shot upward in a furious blur.
7… 8… 9…
It didn't slow.
It slammed into the top with a hard clack—
10.0
It stopped there.
Perfect.
Unmoving.
Absolute.
A silence heavier than before swallowed the entire field. Even the wind seemed to pause.
Some students looked pale.
Some looked terrified.
A few looked like their entire world had shifted sideways in an instant.
Avril exhaled sharply through her nose, arms crossed, lips twitching upward.
"Hmph… show-off," she muttered, though her slight smile betrayed something else—
pride? Or maybe a little fear of her own?
Either way, the words drifted into the frozen air as Leo straightened, stepping back from the hammer with the same calm, steady expression.
As if a perfect ten…
was simply expected.
Leo stepped toward the endurance test station, the murmurs around him fading into a low, nervous buzz. By now, every eye in the arena was glued to him — not with curiosity, not with doubt, but with the kind of anticipation that made chests tighten.
He set his hands on the device.
A soft hum filled the air.
The machine lit up.
The test began.
At first, the strain registered in faint vibrations through the platform, but Leo didn't flinch. His posture didn't waver. His muscles didn't tremble. He simply held firm — calm, steady, unshaken.
Seconds passed.
Then the machine pushed harder.
And harder.
And harder.
But Leo's expression didn't change.
If anything… he looked bored.
The numbers rose.
6.4… 7.1… 8.2… 9.5…
A few in the crowd shifted, resigned to what they already knew was coming.
Then—
10.0
The final score flashed across the screen in bold, unforgiving clarity.
Not a gasp.
Not a scream.
Just a strange, heavy numbness settling over everyone like frost.
Someone whispered, almost tiredly,
"Another ten… of course."
Another student sighed, "We should just stop being surprised."
A dull, stunned acceptance washed through the field.
The impossible had happened too many times now.
Leo stepped back from the machine, his breathing still even, his expression unreadable.
And the crowd — once loud, mocking, and judgmental — was now quiet in a different way.
Not silence from shock.
Not silence from awe.
But silence because their minds had stopped keeping up.
They had grown numb to perfection.
Numb to 10.0.
Numb to Leo.
And that, somehow, was even scarier.
Leo moved on to the final test — the magic test.
The moment he approached the panel, a hush fell so deep over the field that even the rustling leaves seemed to freeze. Students leaned forward. Judges paused their writing. Some spectators literally held their breath.
This was the last unknown.
The last piece of Leonel Harrynader.
Leo lifted his hand…
and gently placed his palm on the glowing panel.
Nothing happened.
Not a spark.
Not a flicker.
Not even a hum.
A ripple of murmurs tore through the crowd.
"Is it broken?"
"No way— does he… not have magic?"
"Don't tell me— that's his flaw?"
Alauna tilted her head, whispering with a small frown,
"Maybe that's his weakness. Maybe he's not—"
She didn't even finish the sentence.
FWOOM!
A brilliant burst of light exploded from the panel, bright and violent enough to force half the field to shield their eyes. The device whined, crackling with raw mana as if struggling to contain what it had just awakened.
The glowing intensified — swirling, pulsing, almost alive.
Then the score appeared.
Bold.
Absolute.
Inevitable.
10.0
The field erupted—
—or at least, it should have.
Instead, a strange, heavy dread crashed over the crowd. Their awe had already been stretched to its limit; their shock already numbed by this boy who kept defying reality.
A few students sank to their knees.
A few stared blankly.
A few simply whispered, "Impossible…"
Alauna clamped a hand over her mouth, eyes trembling.
Avril didn't move — she just stared, something tight and unreadable in her expression.
Leo slowly pulled his hand back, the glow fading behind him.
Four tests.
Four perfect tens.
A level of performance unheard of in decades — maybe generations.
And he had done it all… with that calm, almost casual composure.
The crowd didn't cheer.
They didn't speak.
Because there were no words left.
How many words