The bygone week unfolded in a repetitive symphony of indistinguishable days. Each sunrise heralded a cycle of eating, training, and sleeping. Lastly, of course, quarreling with Triss. It was a grueling and monotonous week, but it was a necessary routine, nonetheless.
With the exception of the final day, where others may need to test their might to check how far they have gone, the visible proof before him fueled his determination every time his gaze fell upon it.
A week abundant with stat ups marked the most rewarding period Leon had experienced in quite some time, a genuine smile gracing his face as he rested his head on the pillow.
"Status."
[Name: Leon Rastia]
[Race: Human]
[Universal Energy Arts: Level 1]
[Chaos: 1]
[STR: 6 (+9) STA: 0 (+9)]
[AGL: 0 (+10) INT: 0 (+12)]
[Unassigned Stat Points: 4]
[Magic: ----]
"Hehehe, nice! Great!"
His broadened grin was unmistakable, especially considering that just a week prior, his stats were as follows:
[STR: 6 (+5) STA: 0 (+6)]
[AGL: 0 (+7) INT: 0 (+7)]
An apparent disparity surfaced, notably in the INT stat. Such results were to be anticipated after dedicating considerable time to daily meditation.
He engaged in meditation following his telekinesis training sessions, right before retiring for the night. Moreover, he incorporated meditation into the intervals between scheduled breaks.
Despite the brevity of his meditation sessions, the mere act of engaging in them consistently bestowed due credit. It was only fitting for his INT stat to tower above the rest.
Beyond the concrete evidence reflected in his stat points, Leon also experienced an internal awareness of his growing strength. It wasn't a transformation where his physique sprouted abs overnight; rather, it manifested as a palpable sensation coursing through his veins.
The desire to delve deeper into this newfound power fueled his yearning for more.
The pursuit of strength had become a pervasive addiction among individuals of this era. In a world defined by distinct power levels, there were clear power levels and abilities unlocked at each level, akin to a game.
The greatest indicator of reaching at least Level 5 was the ability to take flight, a coveted dream shared by nearly everyone. However, for some, this dream had to be abandoned in the face of the stark reality known as talent.
'All is well, but how do I level up my Chaos stat? What does it even do? Does it make my attacks stronger, like in most other novels with this kind of special thing?'
His focus shifted elsewhere, and rightfully so; what commanded his attention deserved the redirection of his gaze. Supposedly, chaos was the formless matter that existed before the creation of the universe.
A substance that could aptly be termed the essence of essence of life. The essence of life, which is energy itself. It was no wonder for Leon to have high expectations for that stat.
Yet, Chaos could also be construed as disorder, a state of disarray, akin to something malevolent. This possibility didn't escape Leon's contemplation even for a moment.
Before sleeping, his thoughts meandered through various areas, with the Chaos stat consistently occupying a prominent seat in the theater of his mind.
Gazed at his clock and murmured, "It's time for…"
Knock, knock, knock, knock!
"Yep, she has lots of free time, huh?" Despite his words, a small smile crept onto his face as the menacing knocking resonated throughout the room.
"Hey, good morning," as always, it was Triss, with a bright smile on her face.
Her morning smile had already become a trademark in Leon's eyes, distinguishable and consistent.
"Good morning," greeted and proceeded to the cafeteria, accompanied by Triss.
Eating with Triss formed an integral part of his routine.
As per Triss's remarks and his own observations, people of Rebellious weren't accustomed to having meals around 9 o'clock.
They didn't have to go to work or anything, their only obligations were getting stronger and occasionally embarking on missions. That is why the majority of them were starting the day in later hours, while some others were a little earlier than Leon and Triss.
Missions presented an entirely different scenario, though. It was mandatory for anyone attaining Level 3 to embark on missions periodically, experiencing the field job.
Rebellious needed to constantly remind their members that their reason for existence is to defy the Gods. To stand against them, the faction required everything, primarily individuals with exceptional capabilities.
Money ranked as a secondary, perhaps even tertiary concern for Rebellious. Their primary necessity lay in securing individuals with competence and strength who could hold their ground, especially those positioned above the food chain, such as Sting Tier guards.
Achieving the strength to kill a Scepter Tier guard signified that they were, if not precisely at the same echelon, at least near the level of a God's Bane.
Guards, akin to the police and soldiers of the bygone era, adhered to a hierarchical ranking system primarily determined by their levels. It is safe to say that higher-tiered guards have adequate power levels.
Given the ease with which everyone could attain Level 2, it became the baseline requirement for joining the ranks of God's Guards. However, the duties of a tierless guard primarily revolved around running errands.
In cities like Stone City, where the guard population was comparatively sparse, Level 2 individuals were designated to patrol less crucial areas. The kind of areas that they were obligated to carry out surveillance duties as part of their job.
The ranking system for God's Guards was structured as follows: Level 2 guards, constituting the minimum requirement, were simply referred to as guards. Their status was so low that even some fellow guards viewed them as expendable pawns.
Level 3 guards, in contrast to other levels, boasted a larger population for various reasons. Consequently, they resembled foot soldiers, akin to pawns but notably more valuable than their Level 2 counterparts. Sand was their tier.
On the other hand, Level 4 guards were warmly regarded by all. Attaining Level 4 signified not only proficiency but also, especially if achieved at a young age, proof of exceptional talent. They were bestowed with the esteemed title of Feather.
Simultaneously, reaching Level 5 translated to being a powerhouse across nearly every clan. Moreover, only individuals at Level 5 possessed the privilege to establish their own clan, after following specific procedures.
Consequently, they held a prominent position within the guards as well. Referred to as Sting Tier, terrifying and glorious position.
Level 6 stood as the pinnacle of organic life, a tier just beneath that of a Demigod. An elusive dream for some, it also served as the chains binding the mighty. The scarcity in numbers signified the immense difficulty associated with reaching this level.
However, attaining the status of a Demigod remained an insurmountable feat. The path to this echelon remained shrouded in mystery, known only to the Gods.
For these reasons alone, those dwelling at the pinnacle are named Scepter Tier. They were both the greatest and most forlorn figures, embodying a paradox of unparalleled power and profound sorrow.
God's Bane. Only the audacious blasphemers of Rebellious dared to utter such words. Yet, these mighty individuals stood as their most formidable and powerful forces, a vital factor contributing to their continued resilience.
The pillars of rebellion, each not only attaining the elusive Level 6 but also wielding strength surpassing even their peers. To the extent that in a battle between a standard Scepter and a member of God's Bane, the latter would emerge victorious effortlessly.
This notion was fueled by the fact that some within God's Bane demonstrated the capability to withstand the onslaught of three Scepters simultaneously.
"By the way…"
Triss's words abruptly cut.
A radiant smile illuminated her face the moment she spotted the person entering the room adjacent to hers. "Memma!" she exclaimed with joy.
Triss's sudden scream and swift footsteps prompted the petite girl to turn her head in their direction. She embodied the very essence of cuteness and charm.
Her height fell shorter than Triss but exceeded that of Leon's childhood friend Maria, resting perfectly in between. Triss measured 1.60 meters, Maria 1.50, and the girl stood at 1.55 meters.
Leon maintained a thoughtful silence, allowing his gaze to linger on her features. His attention was first drawn to her black hair, reaching down to the level of her chin.
The second focal point was her brown eyes set on an oval face. Lastly, his gaze settled on a region below her, akin to a non-existent place, resembling the vast expanse of a desert.
Intently scrutinizing someone could be felt by the other person, especially when they are just a step ahead of you.
"Flat is justice."
"Hmm?"
"Flat is justice."
"A-Ah, yeah. Right," swiftly averted his gaze, a sudden flush of redness coloring his cheeks.
"Memma, Leon. Leon, Memma."
"Nice to meet you."
Ten seconds passed in awkward silence.
A peculiar scene unfolded before Leon's eyes. In ordinary circumstances, a greeting would be reciprocated with a response or a nod in acknowledgment.
However, what Leon encountered was a gaze. Memma came to an abrupt halt, fixing her eyes on his for a solid 10 seconds. In turn, Leon mirrored the action, holding an unwavering stare.
'Did she fall for me? Well, that was expected. I can't blame her.'
"I think you couldn't find a suitable one, huh?"
Nodded to Triss, Memma, and took her steps to her room in front of the baffled eyes of Leon.
The question mark-filled gaze in Leon's eyes spoke volumes, silently questioning the situation.
"Seems like she couldn't find a suitable meme."
"What are you talking about?"
"You know the internet memes, right? I'm talking about them."
"What are you talking about?"
"Don't you know memes? Even I know them."
"What do they have to do with this, though?"
"Those are her essence. Memma the Meme Girl."
"What the f*ck are you talking about!?"
"And you will have a spar with her."
"…"