Ex-Rank Awakening: My Attacks Make Me Stronger

Leon turned from the desk and faced her fully, his voice cutting straight to the heart of it.

"You have a tracking talent, don't you?"

Racheal's emerald eyes widened before she could stop herself. The words slipped out of her lips unguarded. "How did you know?"

Leon's grin sharpened. "I didn't. But now I do."

Her eyes narrowed, heat flashing across her face as she realized what just happened. She glared at him, but the memory of what came with meeting his gaze made her falter. Instead, she fixed her stare on the desk, refusing to look up. The act gave her the appearance of a timid little girl—but Rachel.was far from timid.

'He really played me,' she thought, biting down on her irritation.

Leon, still leaning against the desk, felt a rush of satisfaction. 'That actually worked.'

He hadn't forgotten how, when he once asked her how she managed to find him, she had avoided the question. Being the petty man he was, he decided to pull it out of her by force of wit. And now, here it was. 'If it was a skill, It would have been okay. But a talent… that makes it even better. The only thing I don't know is what rank it is.'

He tilted his head, eyes gleaming. "It seems your talent requires you to see a person first before you can track them, doesn't it?"

Still staring at the desk, Racheal gave a small, humorless laugh. "You're smarter than you look."

Leon didn't take the jab to heart. If anything, it made his grin widen.

"Yes," she admitted, her voice calm but tight. "I have to see the individual first before I can track them."

Leon's chest swelled with satisfaction at the confirmation.

'I'm On a roll today.'

"Then it must be a Saint-rank talent, right?"

He had no real proof, but something deep in his gut told him he was right. And when Racheal gave the faintest nod, that was all the evidence he needed.

Leaning forward slightly, he pressed further, his tone casual but loaded. "So, what's the distance limit of your tracking talent? A few thousand kilometers?"

He expected another nod of confirmation. Instead, Racheal finally lifted her head. Her emerald eyes locked on him, steady and unflinching.

"There is no limit."

The smug smile on Leon's face froze, then slid away in an instant.

****

Leon was beyond shocked. His gaze lingered on Racheal, disbelief tightening in his chest until the words slipped out before he could stop them.

"No limit…?"

Racheal shifted slightly, her voice calm.

"Well, I might have exaggerated it. If the person I'm searching for is in another dimension, I can't find them."

Leon blinked. 'Is this rage bait?'

There was no reason for her to phrase it as if she had downplayed her ability. The fact that someone had to escape into an entirely different dimension just to slip past her talent made it absurdly broken in his eyes.

'Are all Saint-rank talents like this?' His thoughts raced. 'Lizzie's talent evolved into Saint-rank before we tackled God's Temple… but she only used it once, and even then, not at full strength. Could she be this busted too?'

The possibility lit a fire inside him. 'If Racheal's tracking was this overwhelming, what would Lizzie's look like at it's peak?' The idea sent a rush of fascination through him. And then another thought hit harder: 'With the means to evolve a talent that Racheal offered… even Nikko could have her talent pushed higher. Even Eden and Adrian.'

The thought thrilled him. A squad where every member carried a Saint-rank talent—it was enough to shake the balance of this world.

But he forced himself to steady his mind. 'Not yet. First I have to handle everything here. I need more strength before I even think about leaving this forest to reunite with the rest.'

His eyes flicked back to Racheal. She still refused to meet his gaze, her attention fixed stubbornly on the desk like it held the world's secrets.

Leon leaned back slightly, a smile ghosting across his lips as his thoughts sharpened. 'And when I am strong enough, we'll leave this forest, find the others, and crush this trial together.'

He let the silence stretch for a beat before breaking it, his tone low, edged with quiet resolve.

"But first," Leon said, "I need to master my new talent… and affinity."

His voice carried a weight that made Racheal's lashes flutter, but she kept her eyes down. Leon exhaled slowly through his nose. He didn't like this game of avoidance. The longer it went on, the more it grated on him. His attempts to avoid other people's gazes were starting to become more than a nuisance; it was an irritation he had no intention of tolerating forever.

****

Racheal's gaze stayed fixed on the polished wood of the desk, her emerald eyes refusing to lift. She had her own thoughts churning behind that calm exterior, though.

To be honest, she could have lied. Leon had no way of proving the details of her talent, and hiding its true scope would have been simple. But she hadn't. Not because of some sacred Elven tradition about truth, those were stories outsiders loved to whisper. No it was because of something else entirely.

Trust.

It wasn't a feeling she gave easily, yet she had chosen it now.

Her reasoning was shaky at first. Why reveal something so vital to a man she had only just begun to understand? But then she remembered the image that refused to leave her mind: the aura that had emanated from Leon when he rushed to rescue Pascal. It was an aura no ordinary first-year trial-taker should have. That moment had begun to chip away at her doubts.

Now, the truth slipped from her lips not out of carelessness, but out of hope. Hope that she wasn't wrong.

Her hand curled into a fist in her lap.

'And the fact that, despite his strength, he didn't force the truth out of me by power… it's already a good sign.'

She closed her eyes briefly.

'Elaine… please guide me.'

Across from her, Leon leaned back in his chair. He had been watching, sharp as ever, noticing every flicker of expression across her face. He didn't need her words to know that she was wrestling with herself, he could see it in the way her lips pressed together, the way her shoulders tensed and loosened in small waves.

For a moment, he lingered on her, curious. But then he exhaled through his nose, a quiet decision forming. 'Let her have her thoughts. That's her battle.'

And with that, Leon let the matter go. His attention shifted inward, away from her turmoil, as he straightened behind the desk. The time for training had come.