Ex-Rank Awakening: My Attacks Make Me Stronger - Chapter 285

Chapter 285: EX 285. Is This Lust?
Ever since the bond was established, Originus had been silent. Not a word, not even a flicker of his presence in Leon’s mind. At first, Leon had wondered if the ancient dragon had fallen asleep, or maybe, like most powerful beings, it simply didn’t care to speak unless it found something worth saying. Either way, the quiet had stretched on for so long that Leon almost forgot there was another consciousness tethered to his soul.

That was, until now.

And of all things, the first words the primordial dragon spoke were to complain about his hair.

Leon stared at his reflection in the mirror, pale light spilling over his shoulders as the long strands of white shimmered faintly. His reflection stared back, expression calm and eyes cool, but the voice that came through the glass wasn’t his.

“I didn’t see any reason to speak before,” the reflection said smoothly, its tone steeped in age and authority. “But now, seeing how rough and scattered your appearance has become, it would be a crime on my part if I didn’t correct it.”

Leon blinked once, his expression flat. For a heartbeat, his reflection didn’t move with him. It lingered, just half a second out of sync before snapping back into place. A faint chill slid down his spine. ‘Is this just my anxiety,’ he thought, half-joking to himself.

“Don’t try to form form jokes,” Originus chided, voice rumbling like thunder from the depths of his mind. “And do something about that hair.”

Leon tuned out the rambling tone, focusing instead on the mirror. He couldn’t exactly argue with the dragon. Back in the real world, he used to keep his hair neat, almost obsessively so. But here, between trials, battles, and near-death encounters, maintenance wasn’t exactly a priority. Now that he looked at himself, the dragon wasn’t wrong. It was messy enough to be a hindrance in a fight.

With a quiet sigh, Leon muttered, “The grampa’s right.”

“Hey,” his reflection replied dryly, though Leon ignored it completely.

He reached into his inventory and pulled out a pair of sharp silver scissors. For a moment, he studied the blades as they caught the light, then glanced back at his reflection. ‘I wonder if my hair will grow back instantly if I cut it,’ he thought. Since becoming a void spawn, regeneration came naturally to him; flesh, bone, and blood (well, not exactly blood, but you get the point). everything restored in seconds. But hair was… technically part of his body, wasn’t it?

“There’s no better way to find out,” he said under his breath.

So he began cutting. Strand by strand, white hair fell silently to the floor, glinting faintly before fading into motes of shadow. His reflection, his other self, or perhaps the dragon peering through it, watched in satisfied silence.

For the first time since their bond, which hasn’t even been up to an hour, Originus didn’t scold or speak. He simply watched, as if approving of the boy who, with quiet resolve, was shaping himself anew.

****

Racheal had finished packing her things, folding the last of her combat gear with a careful hand. Everything was ready. She turned toward the washroom door and frowned lightly. Leon had been in there for quite a while now.

‘What’s taking him so long?’ she thought, glancing at the clock above the bed. Maybe he was just being his usual self, calm, unbothered, probably staring at the mirror longer than necessary. Still, curiosity crept in.

The sound of the door unlocking snapped her out of her thoughts.

When Leon stepped out, Racheal froze.

Her emerald eyes widened in disbelief. The man standing before her barely looked like the same person who’d walked in earlier. Leon’s white hair, once long enough to brush his shoulders, now framed his face with clean precision, a sharp taper that brought out the defined lines of his jaw. His skin still glistened faintly from the water, a towel draped loosely around his shoulders as he dried his hair. The tattoo on his right forearm, dragon scales laced with glowing runes, was fully visible, curling slightly as if alive.

He wasn’t even trying, but the sight was arresting.

Racheal’s heartbeat stuttered. A strange warmth crept up her neck, and she couldn’t explain it. It wasn’t admiration. It wasn’t awe. It was… something else. Something heavier, warmer, unfamiliar enough to make her uncomfortable. ‘Is this, lust?’ she thought, startled by the word even forming in her mind.

Leon, oblivious to her thoughts, lowered the towel and hung it over his shoulder. His newly cut hair still looked rough from the drying, yet it suited him perfectly, it was effortless, sharp and clean. It was the kind of cut that spoke of confidence and control, even if it had been done with nothing but a pair of scissors and a steady hand.

“I’ll be a bit longer,” Leon said casually, his tone level as ever. “Just go and wait with Adrian. I’ll be out in a jiffy.”

Racheal blinked hard, forcing her mind to reboot. “Y–yes,” she managed quickly, her voice a touch higher than usual. She snatched her bag and hurried toward the door, practically fleeing the room.

When the door clicked shut, Leon blinked once, towel still in hand. “What was that about?” he muttered under his breath, genuinely puzzled, before returning to drying his hair like nothing unusual had happened.

****

Racheal’s steps echoed softly down the corridor, her pace steady but her thoughts in chaos. Her face was still flushed, warmth lingering beneath her pale skin. To be fair, she had never experienced something like that before, never. Elves weren’t creatures driven by carnal impulses. Their kind was known for their composure, their emotions muted where others burned hot. Desire, for them, was a fading echo, something almost… theoretical.

That was why what had happened back in that room left her unsettled.

She placed a hand against her chest as she walked, feeling her heart still racing, a rapid, unsteady rhythm that refused to calm. ‘What was that?’ she thought, eyes narrowing slightly as if she could force reason into herself.

Elves were different by nature. Their bodies lacked the hormonal surge humans and other races felt. For centuries, their scholars had described it as a “refinement of spirit,” but in truth, it was closer to a lifelong restraint, a natural impotence of desire. For Racheal, it had always been that way. She had even tried, once or twice, to understand what others felt, using alchemical aphrodisiacs out of curiosity more than need but they never worked.

****

A/N: Mass release if we reach top 80 of Golden rank