The dust from the battle still hung in the air, swirling in the forest's faint breeze. Leon's eyes remained sharp as the competition around him began to settle into an uneasy silence. The Titanic Roarer lay motionless at his feet, its colossal body sprawled across the ground. The once-boisterous group of competitors now stood in stunned silence, unsure of what to do next. Leon's action had shifted the balance, and now everyone seemed to be looking at him.
His pulse raced as the energy from the Focus Stone slowly faded. He could feel the weight of their gazes—some of admiration, others filled with suspicion. The moment of triumph had come, but it had also made him a target. He had drawn attention, and in the Origin Games, that was both a blessing and a curse.
The armored figure, the one who had been barking orders just moments earlier, was the first to speak. His voice was deep and gravelly, tinged with an accent Leon couldn't quite place.
"Impressive," the man said, his tone neutral but tinged with a sharp edge. "You took it down faster than we expected. But now, what? Are you going to stand there and claim all the points for yourself?"
Leon didn't answer right away. He had already calculated the risk of getting involved with these players. Most of them were stronger than he was. If they worked together, they could easily overpower him. But in the Origin Games, strength wasn't just about raw power—it was also about tactics, timing, and the ability to control the flow of the game. Leon wasn't interested in making alliances. Not yet. He needed to stay independent.
The silver-haired woman, who had been standing off to the side, finally spoke. Her voice was softer, more measured than the armored man's, but there was an edge of curiosity in her tone.
"You're not like the others, are you?" she asked, studying Leon carefully. "Most players would have taken the opportunity to join us, but you've been standing apart. What's your game?"
Leon locked eyes with her, trying to gauge her intentions. "I'm just here to survive," he said, keeping his voice steady. "I don't need anyone to hold my hand."
The woman's lips curled into a faint smile, but it didn't reach her eyes. "I see. Then you've made the first mistake. Survival in these games isn't about standing alone. It's about knowing when to fight and when to form alliances."
Leon's hand instinctively tightened around the hilt of his sword. He didn't trust anyone here, but he couldn't afford to ignore her advice either. This was the Origin Games—everything was a game of power and influence. He had to think several steps ahead.
Before Leon could respond, the man with the scar spoke up again, his voice filled with sarcasm.
"Survival, huh? Maybe you should've kept that in mind before you killed the Titanic Roarer. Now, we've got a whole bunch of monsters to deal with, and you've made us all targets. Congratulations."
Leon turned to face him, his expression cold. "I didn't ask for your help," he replied. "If you want to take the credit for the kill, go ahead. But don't expect me to care about your complaints."
The tension was palpable. Leon could feel the animosity in the air, but he refused to back down. This was his moment, and he wasn't going to let anyone take it from him.
There was a long, uncomfortable silence, before the silver-haired woman spoke again, this time in a more neutral tone.
"Alright, enough. We've all got our sights on the next step. You've proven your strength, but the game is far from over. We need to decide what to do now. If we keep fighting, we'll all be dead before the end of this trial."
The armored man grunted in agreement, though his eyes still lingered on Leon with a trace of resentment. "Fine. But don't think for a second that we'll trust you. We'll deal with you after the trial."
Leon nodded slightly, keeping his thoughts to himself. He didn't care about their trust. What mattered now was how he would continue to move forward in this twisted game. The Titanic Roarer was just one of many threats, and the Origin Games had barely begun.
The silver-haired woman, sensing the end of the conversation, turned and began to move toward the deeper part of the forest. The others followed suit, though each of them cast wary glances at Leon as they passed. For now, it seemed they had decided to leave him alone—but Leon knew that could change at any moment.
As he watched the group disappear into the trees, Leon couldn't shake the feeling that the true nature of these trials was much darker than he had anticipated. Alliances were fragile in the Origin Games, and the moment you showed weakness, you became the prey.
Leon took a deep breath, steadied himself, and moved in the opposite direction. There was no time to waste. The next challenge was already waiting for him.
The air grew thick with the scent of decay as Leon entered a new part of the forest. The creatures of the Origin Games were relentless, and there was no telling what kind of enemies awaited him in this new terrain. The game's rules were simple: survive. But survival was never easy.
His thoughts were interrupted as his point score flickered again, showing a steady increase. The points from the Titanic Roarer had earned him a decent amount, but he wasn't satisfied. Leon knew that he would need much more if he was to stand a chance in the trials to come.
Suddenly, a resonance pulse echoed through his mind. The Origin Games had a way of communicating with players—information, updates, and sometimes warnings, all conveyed through the Will of the Universe. Leon closed his eyes and listened carefully.
"Next Trial: The Trial of Elements. Begin when ready. Prepare accordingly."
Leon's heart skipped a beat. The Trial of Elements. A challenge where competitors would face the raw forces of nature. Fire, water, earth, air—each of them would be wielded against him, and the other players, in increasingly dangerous ways.
The realization hit him hard. The trials weren't just about killing monsters. They were about facing the elements, the very foundation of the universe itself. Leon took another deep breath. He could do this. He had to.
He reached into his pack, pulling out a small vial containing a shimmering blue liquid—one of the few remaining potions from the Talent Amplifier. It wouldn't last long, but it would boost his resonance, giving him an edge for the upcoming trial.
With a flick of his wrist, he drank the potion, feeling the surge of energy flow through him once more. The trial was about to begin, and Leon knew that whatever happened next, he would have to give everything he had.
The Origin Games had no mercy. And in the end, only the strongest would survive.