Ex-Rank Awakening: My Attacks Make Me Stronger - Chapter 442

Chapter 442: EX 442. The Flaw Of Perfection
Deep within the infernal vastness, where time had long lost its meaning, the Demon God stirred. Its purpose had never been conquest for conquest’s sake, nor slaughter for the thrill of blood, it desired only one thing: to be perfect.

But that very desire was its curse.

The Demon God was born from imperfection itself, a flaw within the absolute structure of reality, an anomaly that should never have existed. Law was meant to guide creation, not live within it. Yet through neglect and imbalance, imperfection found form, slipping through the cracks of the Primordials’ grand design.

It was a wound that learned to breathe.

If the Primordials were the husband, then the absolute laws were his wives, each one granted a purpose, a role in creation, perfection, power, life, time, unity. But imperfection… imperfection was the jealous wife, the one ignored and unloved. It saw the attention lavished upon its sisters, saw the beauty they brought into being, and in that envy, a seed of rebellion was born.

Like a neglected partner desperate to be noticed, imperfection sought to imitate the perfection it could never attain.

At first, its tantrums took the form of catastrophes, worlds torn apart, realms unmade, creations undone. The Primordials, proud and blind in their self-proclaimed flawlessness, did not understand.

They only saw destruction, never the message behind it.

But imperfection learned. It adapted.

It realized that simply breaking what perfection made would not grant it meaning. So it began to change. It studied the laws under it, mimicking their structure, their essence. Power, Death, Unity—it copied them all, weaving their threads into its dark tapestry.

Yet the closer it came to perfection, the more it understood the truth: imitation was not creation.

And so, it turned its gaze upon the creations of perfection themselves, the mortals.

It began with corruption. In the Era of Pandora, it twisted life into mutants, defiling the very image of the perfect. In this current age, it used contracts, binding mortals to its essence, tempting them with gifts of strength and knowledge. Each act was an experiment, a lesson.

Still… it was never enough.

For to become perfection, it needed not just to imitate or consume, it needed to understand. And to understand, it had to grasp the one being who embodied the balance between flaw and greatness, weakness and strength.

That being was Leon.

​Leon was not merely born of law; he was born of struggle. He was a creature that fell, bled, and rose again, endlessly striving toward something greater.

Ultimately, he was perfection given form: a creature anchored to perfection by the inevitable imbalance of the law of imperfection.

And in him lay the reflection of what the Demon God had always desired: the ability to grow, to evolve, and to transcend his origins.

Thus, the Demon God’s will crystallized.

It would no longer destroy. It would consume the fragment of perfection itself.

Leon Kael.

The Demon God’s voice echoed through the void, a sound that was neither thunder nor whisper but both—resonating through every plane of existence.

“The fragment that bears the Law of perfection itself. Come, child of struggle. Let imperfection be made whole.”

The skies of the demon realm split open, its shadows trembling in ecstasy. For the embodiment of error had finally found what it sought,

its mirror,

its rival,

its salvation.

****

Back in Zion, the Brightest Star watched in silence as Leon descended.

The world itself seemed reluctant to let him go.

Everyone remained bowed, frozen in reverence, heads lowered not by fear but by something deeper. She finally understood why. The laws were not merely reacting to Leon’s power. They were honoring him. The very foundation of existence, the principles that defined reality, rejoiced in his presence. How could they not? He did not just wield them. He resonated with them.

A being born of law would naturally bow to one who stood above law.

The Brightest Star’s gaze followed Leon as his feet touched the shattered ground. For the first time since arriving in this timeline, doubt crept into her certainty. She had believed this world was doomed. Corruption was a failure even the Primordials could not erase. A scar carved too deep into existence.

But now… now she saw something else.

A chance.

Leon’s eyes swept across the destroyed hall, calm and steady, carrying a weight that pressed against the soul rather than the body.

“Rise.”

The word was simple, yet it carried authority that reality itself obeyed. One by one, everyone stood. Not because they chose to, but because they were permitted to. Leon had reached absolute law resonance. The laws reverberated around him like loyal followers awaiting command. As beings born from those laws, standing before him without consent had been impossible.

Only after Leon consciously reined it in did the pressure ease.

He exhaled slowly, then turned his attention to the Brightest Star.

“I guess you’re here to help clean up your mess.”

His tone was even, almost casual, but the meaning landed like a blade.

The Brightest Star blinked. For a moment, the face she wore, Leon’s mother’s face, showed genuine surprise.

“My mess?” she repeated.

Leon’s feet touched the fractured floor, the last ripples of power settling around him like a tide returning to the sea. He looked at the brightest star, really looked this time, and there was no awe in his eyes. Only clarity.

“Yes,” Leon said, his voice calm, steady. “Your mess. All of it.”

The brightest star frowned, Selena’s face twisting in genuine confusion.

​Leon watched her as a thought formed unbidden:

‘How is someone this ignorant allowed to be in charge of something as monumental as creation?’

Leon felt it again, the same hollow uncertainty he had felt when he first stood before the primordials.

“This corruption,” he continued, “didn’t come from nowhere. It was born because you favored perfection and discarded imperfection like it was a flaw to be erased. You created an imbalance, then looked away when it started screaming for attention.”

The brightest star stiffened. Her presence sharpened, the laws around her shifting defensively. She did not understand. Of course she didn’t.

Leon understood then that his assumption had been right from the very beginning.

The primordials were not above creation. They were part of it.

They were beings born of perfection. This was because only the absolute Law of Perfection possessed the Law of life, and only perfection could give birth to beings such as them.

They were created to help govern all of existence, as it was understood that neither the Law of Perfection nor the Law of Imperfection could be left to their own devices.

But because the primordials were born from perfection, they could never truly understand creation in its entirety.

And that was the irony.

A perfect being could not truly learn from mistakes. It could observe failure, correct outcomes, optimize processes, but it could never grow from error.

True growth requires flaw. Change required imperfection.

The brightest star was the clearest proof of that truth.

They were not ignorant because they lacked knowledge. They were ignorant because their very design denied them the ability to see beyond perfection.

They were flawless in form, and utterly limited because of it.

Leon met her gaze, unflinching.

“You thought you were preserving order,” he said quietly. “But all you did was suffocate half of existence. Imperfection wasn’t wrong. It was necessary. And when you denied it, it learned to rebel.”