CHAPTER 205: EX 205. STASH

As Leon stepped toward the cave’s yawning mouth, a strange resistance pressed against his body, like invisible hands trying to shove him back. His eyes narrowed.

"I guess the big guy installed security," he muttered, feeling out the barrier.

The pressure was weak, and flimsy, like a gate with no keeper. The bear’s death had sapped its strength, leaving only a pale shadow of the protection it once was. With a shrug, Leon forced his way through.

Inside, the cave was exactly what he expected, dark stone, uneven walls, the faint scent of old blood, but there were details he hadn’t imagined. The ceiling shimmered faintly with veins of glowing rock, casting the interior in a pale, unearthly light. A soft hum of power resonated against his senses, subtle but undeniable.

"There’s something in here... better be careful," Leon said under his breath.

He drew his sword, its steel catching glimmers of the ceiling’s glow, and summoned his Force affinity. With a thought, his sub-art, King of Force spread a shimmering barrier along the cave walls, sealing the space around him. If anything stirred in the depths, it wouldn’t find escape easy.

The tunnel stretched deeper than he expected. His boots crunched against gravel and stone for what felt like minutes before the passage widened. At last, he found what could only be the bear’s resting chamber.

The ground was smoother here, worn flat by the beast’s bulk. To one side, a pool of water rippled faintly as droplets fell from the stalactites above, each plink echoing softly through the chamber. Moss clung to the edges of the pond, lending a strange, quiet beauty to the place.

But Leon’s gaze didn’t linger on the decor. His eyes locked onto the far corner of the cavern, where a mound of glowing orbs was stacked haphazardly like a hoard. Their faint light pulsed, alive with energy.

"Well now..." Leon exhaled, his lips quirking. "If I’d known you left me this present, I might’ve made your death a little less painful."

If the bear had still been alive, it would’ve roared its outrage and cursed him to hell for such a remark. But the beast was long dead, and Leon’s words drifted unanswered in the still air of its hollowed home.

****

Leon stood in the den, surrounded by the faint glow of dozens of orbs. His eyes narrowed as the thought pressed against the back of his mind.

’But why... why did it need so many orbs?’

He wasn’t a scholar of Pandora’s creatures, nor would he claim to be an expert in their biology. But he knew one thing, absorbing an orb was no simple matter. If not for his [Extreme Art], even he wouldn’t have been able to touch their power. That much was certain. So how could these beasts, without such a powerful art, use them at all?

The question lingered until a memory surfaced.

"Rabbits..." he muttered.

He saw it again in his mind, the battle between the elder rabbit and the young ones. When the victor tore into the loser, it hadn’t eaten the flesh. No, its focus had been on the core, planning to rip it out, and devour it raw.

"This doesn’t make sense," Leon said aloud, staring at the orbs. "Why go after the core at all?"

He thought of the black rabbit, the bear, every beast he had killed so far. Each of them wielded only a single type of skill, nothing more. No matter how many years they lived, no matter how many beasts they must have slain, they never gained multiple beastial abilities. So then... why the obsession?

Leon’s gaze sharpened, and slowly the answer fell into place.

"...It can’t be," he whispered. "They’re using it to rank up."

The idea struck with the weight of truth. It was simple, almost too simple, yet it explained everything. Trial takers had to pursue enlightenment, to grasp the essence of their path until their resonance deepened enough to step into the next rank. That was the law of the trial world. But the beasts of Pandora? They had no such world to guide them. Their law was different, cruel, primal, and absolute. Survival of the fittest.

Leon exhaled through his nose, and then, unexpectedly, a chuckle broke free.

"At this point... am I not the same as them?" he thought, lips curling faintly.

The truth of it was hard to ignore. He didn’t need enlightenment anymore. He didn’t need to meditate on his path. All he had to do was feed his [Extreme Art], absorb more techniques, push it until it evolved, and when it was strong enough, he would ascend.

In that sense, Leon was more beast than man. A creature of Pandora draped in human skin.

But as the thought settled, so did his resolve.

"So be it. If becoming like them brings me closer to my goals... then I don’t care what I am."

The light from the orbs gleamed across his face as he turned back to the den, eyes steady, almost predatory.

****

Leon sat cross-legged on the small island in the center of the pond, the cold stone beneath him slick with moisture. His hands worked without pause, cracking orb after orb, the soft shells breaking apart to release drifting streams of stardust. Each thread of light sank into his head, funneling into his core where Extreme Art tore it apart and re-forged it into raw power.

The sensation was addicting. With every rush of energy, Leon’s lips twitched into a grin that bordered on manic. His eyes gleamed with a hunger that made him look less like a noble warrior and more like a starving man devouring scraps. If anyone had seen him, they might have mistaken him for a junkie who’d stumbled across an endless stash, desperate to consume it all before someone caught him. But Leon wasn’t getting high. He was getting stronger.

By the time the night thinned into the pale edge of dawn, a litter of shattered orbs surrounded him, their once-brilliant glow reduced to useless fragments. Leon had consumed nearly all the treasures the great bear had hoarded throughout its life. Only a small pile of orbs remained, untouched, not because Leon lacked the will, but because his body had already reached its saturation point with that particular species.

With a long, heavy exhale, Leon leaned back on his palms and stared at the ceiling of the cave, where glowing stones pulsed faintly like stars. "It’ll only be a matter of time before I reach the next rank," he muttered, his voice rough with fatigue. "Guess this is what I get for pushing my stats way past the limit."

Dragging in another breath, he straightened and willed open his panel. Blue-white text shimmered into existence before his eyes. His gaze fixed on a single line pulsing faintly among his stats:

Affinity: Force (I)

A small smirk curved his lips. "Let’s see," he said quietly, narrowing his eyes as his fingers twitched against the hilt of his sword. "If I can increase you."