Ex-Rank Awakening: My Attacks Make Me Stronger - Chapter 448

Chapter 448: EX 448. The Last Bout
The moment the demon god’s body began to fracture, a piercing white light spilled from the cracks like liquid divinity, flooding the void and beyond.

It wasn’t just a spectacle, the entire fabric of existence trembled beneath its weight. Across the worlds, stars flickered, oceans roared, and even the primordials stirred from in their silence.

Far below that cosmic struggle, where the armies of light and shadow clashed, the battle raged like a storm that had forgotten mercy.

Nikko was a blur of motion and brilliance, her twin supreme laws, Covara and Herbavora, wove in harmony.

She was both the sword and the cure. Wherever she stepped, the ground erupted in primal energy, and demons fell like stalks of wheat before a scythe.

Every slash of her claws carried the weight of creation; every pulse of her aura reignited her allies’ strength.

Elizabeth was equally terrifying. Her command over death had reached a realm none had dreamed possible. Marked with her touch before battle, every fallen trial taker could rise again if she willed it.

With each resurrection, the demons’ morale shattered further, death itself had betrayed them.

Racheal’s mind was a weapon sharper than any blade. She saw the battlefield like a living equation, unraveling enemy formations, exposing weaknesses, and directing strikes with precision. Her voice alone turned chaos into harmony.

Eden, fused with Blessing, moved like a god of ages. Time bent to his will; enemies slowed, allies quickened, and entire legions found themselves trapped in distorted seconds. His calm presence anchored the tide.

And Adrian, unmovable and unbreakable, stood at the frontlines. His shield shimmered with holy defiance, diverting lethal blows that would have ended millions.

Every block gave Elizabeth space to breathe, every step forward renewed the hope of those behind him.

They were more than soldiers. They were the stars orbiting Leon’s gravity, the generals of a world that refused to die.

But then… everything changed.

Without warning, every demon on the battlefield froze. Their roars fell silent, their weapons clattered to the ground. Clawed hands rose to clutch their heads as if something inside them had ruptured. Their red eyes dimmed, flickering in confusion and pain.

The trial takers halted, blades and breaths suspended in disbelief.

Above them, the source became clear. The demon god’s cracked body radiated pure white light, spreading through all realms connected to its being.

That brilliance was annihilation itself, erasing imperfection at its root.

The Brightest Star watched in horror as the very foundation of creation began to quiver.

It didn’t stop at the Blue Planet.

In the other timeline, the sky itself began to unravel. Colors bled into one another, mountains blurred at their edges, and the air vibrated with a pressure that made even seasoned rulers feel small. The Dowager and Malachi stood among the rulers, having just reunited with them after Leon’s departure, when the world lurched like a wounded beast.

Alexander was the first to speak, his voice tight as he stared upward.

“What in the stars is happening?”

Before anyone could answer, the Dowager staggered. A sharp tug seized her chest, so suddenly her knees nearly buckled. Alexander caught her just in time, steadying her as Genevieve rushed to her other side.

“Mother, what is it?” Genevieve asked, panic creeping into her tone.

The Dowager drew in a long, ragged breath, sweat beading on her brow as if she had run miles without rest.

“I feel it,” she said softly. “A part of me is about to vanish.”

Back on the Blue Planet, the battlefield shuddered. Demons screamed and clutched their heads, collapsing where they stood. Eden winced, a sudden spike of pain splitting his thoughts. Before he could speak, Blessing tore free from their fusion, her small doll-like form staggering as she held her head.

“Blessing?” Eden asked, fear cutting through his usual calm.

She didn’t answer. She only trembled.

Nikko was taken aback by the situation. She lifted her gaze to the fractured sky, dread tightening her chest.

“Leon,” she whispered. “What is happening?”

Deep within a bunker, Eleanor thrashed against her restraints, her screams echoing off reinforced walls. Grounders watched in horror as the straps strained, her body reacting to something none of them could see or understand.

And in the void beyond worlds, the demon god’s body had shattered into countless fragments, each one blazing with impossible light. An absolute law did not simply die, and what was happening now was far worse than death.

The Brightest Star stared at the disintegrating form, her composure finally breaking. She dropped to her knees, hands trembling.

“It’s over,” she said hollowly. “We failed.”

“No.”

The word cut through the despair like a blade.

She looked up.

Leon stood there, untouched by the chaos, a brilliant smile on his face that did not belong in a moment like this. His eyes were clear, steady, and certain.

“Who decided that?” he asked calmly. “Everything is going according to plan.”

Creation had never been meant to stand on one leg.

It required perfection and imperfection, not as enemies, but as counterparts. Yet when the primordials shaped existence, they reached only for the laws beneath perfection. Power. Death. Motion. Unity. They built worlds polished and radiant, believing flawlessness was stability.

Imperfection did not agree.

Neglected, it resisted.

Calamities. Extinctions. Broken ages. From one angle, it looked like destruction. From another, it was correction.

If imperfection had not interfered, the pristine creations of perfection would have collapsed under their own rigidity.

Change would have stalled. Growth would have ended. Creation would have unraveled quietly, beautifully, and completely.

Imperfection tried to speak through disaster, but the primordials were deaf to meaning and blind to consequence.

By the time they understood something was wrong, the law of imperfection had already rejected itself. It no longer wanted balance.

It wanted replacement.

So even when the primordials realized their error, it was too late. You cannot reason with a law that has abandoned its purpose.

Leon and the Brightest Star tried using force, but it did not work.

Now, faced with failure, imperfection had chosen a final answer.

Self-erasure.

And the consequences were absolute.

Those formed mostly of imperfection were already going first.

Next would be those balanced evenly between the two.

And finally, perfection itself would collapse, because no absolute law can exist without its counterpart.

Existence would not explode.

It would simply stop.

That was the end the demon god had chosen.

And yet Leon was smiling.

He walked through the trembling void as fragments of the demon god’s body peeled away into blinding white light. Every step felt heavy, not with resistance, but with inevitability. He reached the collapsing form and crouched beside it, close enough to feel the raw instability of a law tearing itself apart.

Leon’s expression held no mockery. No triumph.

Only clarity.

Though he was the embodiment of perfection, imperfection still dwelled within him. While weaker than his flawless side, it remained in perfect balance.

That meant when imperfection erased itself, part of Leon would be erased as well.

And that was exactly why this was not the end.

Previously, imperfection had been blinded by rage, obsession, and envy. It could not listen. It could not reason. But now, faced with its own erasure, it sought something it had never allowed itself to want before.

Closure.

That desire opened a door.

And Leon had the key.

As a void spawn, as one who had always walked the edge between existence and absence, Leon possessed a natural link to imperfection.

When the law opened itself in its final moments, Leon stepped forward and took hold of that connection.

The battlefield vanished.

Sound, light, and space dissolved as Leon entered the mental scape of the absolute law of imperfection.