Ex-Rank Awakening: My Attacks Make Me Stronger-Chapter 105: Ex . Original Art

72 hours.

That was how long the infernal spar had lasted.

Inside the reinforced dome of the base’s elite training chamber, built to withstand the might of S-rank Supremes, Leon and Nikko had been locked in relentless battle. Their only breaks were the times when Leon’s body literally could no longer move, reduced to a twitching mess of blood, bruises, and broken bones. But each time he healed, just enough, he stood back up and called for more.

Nikko had long since stopped trying to reason with him. She watched, half in awe, half in horror, as Leon pushed past threshold after threshold.

His body didn’t just adapt, it transcended.

His stat growth over the Sparthon had become monstrous:

Strength: 846 > 1446 (+600)

Senses: 735 > 1135 (+400)

Vitality: 696 > 1296 (+600)

Stamina: 676 > 1076 (+400)

Speed: 694 > 1094 (+400)

Aura: 701 > 1301 (+600)

Each swing of his sword now carried terrifying weight.

Each movement was refined, smooth, and efficient, born not from technique, but from grueling repetition.

His instincts had sharpened. His timing became immaculate.

And most frightening of all... he no longer hesitated.

Nikko could tell he had completely lost control of his power by this point. His strikes came heavy and unrestrained, but luckily, she could take it. As a Supreme S-Rank, she met his every blow with equal precision, never once using her talent or aura, until now.

Leon charged again.

Eyes focused.

Sword glinting.

Movements seamless.

Nikko moved to intercept.

But the air shifted.

Her instincts, those primal, battle-hardened instincts, screamed at her.

"This one... this one’s different—!!"

Leon’s sword came down like a thunderclap,his entire body aligned behind the slash.

Nikko didn’t hesitate. For the first time since their spar began, she coated her arms in aura, bracing for impact.

BOOM!!

The clash sent a shockwave ripping through the chamber, blasting debris from the walls.

Despite her aura, Nikko was blown back several meters, her boots carving trenches into the reinforced floor.

When the dust settled, she looked up, stunned.

Leon stood where he had struck, body trembling, sword still in position.

A soft chime echoed in the air.

[Critical x120 Achieved]

[Evo Point Acquired]

A faint smile crept onto Leon’s bruised lips.

"Finally..."

And then, he collapsed.

Nikko flashed to his side, catching him before his head hit the ground. His body was a mess, torn muscles, ruptured vessels, cracked ribs, but he was still breathing and alive.

She held him gently, brushing hair from his sweaty face.

"You’re insane..." she whispered, her voice soft with a mix of admiration and concern.

"But you did it."

****

Darkness. freёwebnoѵel.com

Total and absolute.

Leon floated, weightless, as if swallowed by the void itself. No pain. No sound. No time.

Then, his mind’s eye opened.

And instantly, he knew where he was.

"So I’m back here..." he murmured.

The infinite black around him parted, giving way to a celestial marvel:

A massive golden sun, burning with sacred radiance, hovering above a sea of stars.

Surrounding it were one hundred smaller suns, each a miniature beacon of warmth, knowledge, and power. Their glow brushed over Leon’s form, washing away fatigue, mending his spirit, and filling him with a serene, focused calm.

He exhaled, slow and steady.

Then with a flick of his will, his Talent Page unfolded in the void like a digital scroll of light.

[Evo Point: 1]

Leon’s lips curved into a grin.

"So it wasn’t a hallucination after all."

He lowered himself into a lotus position, legs crossed, posture straight, hands resting lightly on his knees. The vast energy from the celestial suns resonated around him, amplifying his concentration.

"It’s time to get to work."

Leon’s objective wasn’t simple enlightenment, he had long surpassed the point where just understanding an existing art could advance him. His stats were too high. Too vast. Too... unnatural.

For most trial takers, an art was a beacon, a guiding light that helped elevate them into a new realm of strength.

But for Leon, those beacons were like matchsticks trying to move a mountain.

"If a normal art is a tow truck..." he muttered, eyes shut, mind racing,

"Then I am a goddamn mountain."

He opened the mental vault containing all the arts he had acquired. Dozens of them, raw, elegant, destructive, subtle, ancient, modern.

One by one, he dismantled them in his mind.

Breaking them apart.

Studying their internal structure.

Decoding their intent.

Some parts he discarded. Others he refined. And some, he rebuilt entirely, adding his own brutal combat philosophies, drawing from personal experience and instinct.

This was not a smooth process. It was an intellectual war, an abstract grind of pure mental force.

But the suns helped, their presence soothed the chaos, providing clarity when it began to slip, and light when the ideas began to fade.

And finally, after what felt like eternity inside a single thought,

It clicked.

A single concept formed.

It was raw. Unforged. Incomplete. But it was his. Entirely his. A culmination of every battle, every clash, every moment of desperation and fury.

Leon’s mind trembled.

This wasn’t enlightenment. Not yet.

But this was the spark.

The blueprint.

The birth of an Original Art.

And now, came the moment of truth.

He opened his Evolution Page, a panel of pure light unfolding with divine resonance.

And there it was:

[Art Concept] +

The symbol pulsed and glowed.

As Leon didn’t hesitate and with complete resolve, he mentally pressed the "+".

And the floodgates opened.

****

Inside Leon’s Mind.

The instant he activated the Evo Point....

...it began.

An ocean of knowledge, unimaginable and endless, crashed into his consciousness. It wasn’t slow or gentle; it was a tidal wave of raw, unfiltered information, crashing into his soul with enough force to shatter a lesser mind. He grit his teeth as pain and clarity danced on the edge of collapse.

Countless fragments of combat forms, aura control, essence weaving, spirit focus, rhythm, intent, force mechanics, and emotional encoding, all those pieces of existing arts he had studied, were suddenly fusing in a divine storm.

And in the heart of that storm, his art concept began to solidify.

It spun at the center like a newborn star, shifting through thousands of forms in moments, until, finally, it began to settle into one true shape.

A form born of his instinct.

Forged by his suffering.

Fueled by the overwhelming desire to surpass everything.

A creation with no teacher, no template, and no origin but his own will.

He was about to do something no one else in the Federation had ever achieved.

Create an original art.