Ex-Rank Awakening: My Attacks Make Me Stronger - Chapter 449(End)

Chapter 449: EX 449. One Condition
Leon found himself standing on a quiet grass plain.

The ground rolled gently beneath his feet, blades of grass swaying as if stirred by a breath that did not belong to any wind. Ahead lay a small pond, its surface smooth as polished glass. Moonlight spilled across it in silver waves. The moon hung impossibly close, bright and watchful, yet the sky was empty of stars. It felt deliberate, as if this place refused to allow anything else to shine.

Leon scanned the horizon once, then again, until his eyes settled on the lone figure by the pond.

She stood with her back to him.

Long black hair fell down her back like liquid night, framing a silhouette so unnaturally perfect it felt unreal. Even without seeing her face, there was a gravity to her presence that pulled at him. If Leon had still been bound by ordinary instincts, his body would have betrayed him on the spot. But he wasn’t ordinary anymore, and he knew better than to let surface beauty distract him.

He approached calmly.

She didn’t turn. Not when his steps drew closer. Not when he stopped beside her.

Only then did he truly see her.

Her features were flawless to a cruel degree, the kind of beauty that made divinity seem like an understatement. But it was shattered by her expression. Her eyes were fixed on the pond, distant and hollow, as if she were staring at something far beneath the water.

There was no arrogance there. No rage. Just a quiet, aching emptiness that didn’t belong on a face like that.

She spoke first, her voice low and edged with bitterness.

“Did you get tired of beating my body,” she said, “so you decided to hunt me down in my mind too?”

Leon let out a short, awkward chuckle. He clasped his hands behind his back, mirroring her stillness as he looked at the pond.

“That was the only way to reach you,” he said honestly.

“Sorry about that. Did it hurt?”

She didn’t look at him.

“Yes,” she answered after a pause.

The word carried weight, heavier than any scream. Then, more quietly, she added, her gaze never leaving the water,

“But not as much as the pain in my chest.”

The grass continued to sway. The moon reflected silently in the pond.

And Leon finally understood that this wasn’t a battlefield at all. It was a place where something broken had come to grieve.

Silence settled between them.

Leon did not rush to fill it. He knew better.

He had beaten the Demon God into ruin not because he expected submission. Absolute beings were not convinced by force alone. He had done it to ignite something raw. Rage, pushed far enough, always collapsed in on itself. Even gods had a limit.

Just like a child screaming until their throat gave out, only to fall asleep moments later, fury burned itself hollow.

This quiet space was what remained.

Leon studied her now, the true visage of the Law of Imperfection. His posture stayed relaxed, hands still clasped behind him as he exhaled slowly. The breath served no biological purpose anymore, but it grounded him all the same.

“You know you don’t have to erase yourself,” His tone was even, almost gentle.

“The primordials learned their lesson. I’m certain of it. They’ll give you all the attention you were denied.”

She stayed quiet.

Deep down, she knew he was right. That truth only made it worse.

She turned to face him at last, and Leon felt it. Not pressure. Not killing intent. Something sharper. Resentment.

“You don’t know what it feels like,” she said, her voice tightening, “to be cast aside in favor of another.”

Her eyes lingered on him, and the sting surfaced despite her restraint. Leon was Leon, yes, but he was also Perfection given form. Chosen. Preferred. Standing proof of everything she had been denied.

The feeling passed. She steadied herself. She knew she could not defeat him.

So she turned back to the pond.

“Just let me be,” she said quietly. “Go enjoy your final hours with your family.”

Leon did not answer right away.

When he did speak, it sounded almost casual, as though the words had slipped out by accident.

“I didn’t take you for a sore loser.”

The pond rippled once.

The law of imperfection turned to him fully this time, slowly, as if each degree of movement had weight.

“What did you say?”

Leon only shrugged. From the outside it looked careless. From within, it was deliberately restrained.

“I said I didn’t take you for a sore loser.”

Her right eye twitched.

For a being that had shattered worlds, it was a tiny reaction. Leon noticed it anyway. He always did.

‘Is this rage bait?’

The thought crossed her mind sharp and fast. This was not how it was supposed to go. Leon was supposed to be, kneeling and begging her for forgiveness.

Instead, here he was, hands behind his back, posture relaxed, poking at her wounds like they were old scars instead of open gashes.

What was it with perfection and pissing her off?

“What are you playing at, Leon?” she asked, voice tight.

“Nothing.”

He said it simply. Then paused. His gaze lingered on her face, not challenging, not mocking. Just… assessing.

“I just assumed someone as determined as you wouldn’t pick such an easy way out.”

She didn’t respond. Not immediately. Silence stretched across the pond, the moon’s reflection trembling as if the water itself was holding its breath.

Leon took that silence as permission.

“I can’t imagine planning something for eons,” he continued, tone casual, almost conversational, “and then deciding that one setback is enough to end everything.”

Her lips parted.

“And that’s when I did things others said were impossible,” Leon went on, cutting in before she could speak. “I created a new race. I gave the ones in charge of creation a headache they still haven’t recovered from. I didn’t just destroy worlds. I erased universes. Over and over again.”

His voice never rose. That was the unsettling part.

“If I’d done all that,” he said, eyes returning to the pond, “offing myself wouldn’t even cross my mind. I’d live just to spite everyone who caused me that pain.”

He paused, then added lightly,

“But I guess to each their own.”

The law of imperfection just stared at Leon.

He met her gaze without flinching, hands still clasped behind his back, posture loose to the point of disrespect. Anyone else would have mistaken it for indifference. Leon knew better. This was the edge of a blade. The whole of existence balanced on it, trembling.

For all his calm, his thoughts were tight and focused. This was a gamble, and not the kind he could retry. If he failed here, there would be no do overs. No second timelines. No clever substitutions.

Only erasure.

For the first time in a very long while, Leon found himself hoping rather than calculating. He could only pray for a miracle; in this case, he was praying to himself.

The law of imperfection sighed.

It was a soft sound, almost human, and it rippled across the grassy plane. She turned away from him and faced the pond once more, moonlight spilling across the still water.

Leon waited. That single second stretched until it felt longer than the wars he had fought, longer than the eons she had endured alone.

Then she spoke.

“Fine,” she said quietly. “I won’t erase myself.”

Leon almost broke.

The urge to laugh, to exhale, to throw his arms into the air hit him all at once. His shoulders twitched before he forced them still. Relief burned through him like a star going nova behind his ribs, but he swallowed it down. This was not the moment to celebrate.

She was not finished.

“But it will be on one condition.”

Outside the mindscape, back on the Blue Planet, the change came like a held breath finally released.

The demons that had been squirming in agony froze for a single heartbeat. Then they exploded.

Not in fire. Not in gore. They burst apart into shards of dark light that dissolved before they could even hit the ground. Across the battlefields, demon after demon vanished as if they had never existed.

The trial takers stood frozen in stunned silence.

Then the second wave hit.

It wasn’t violent. It was intimate.

Every living being felt it. A subtle shift, deep and fundamental, as though something missing had been gently returned.

As if they had become… complete. Not whole, but balanced. Half of something they had never known they lacked.

Racheal stared up at the torn sky, her breath hitching. Then a brilliant smile split her face.

“My Leon did it!” she screamed, voice cracking with joy.

Elizabeth felt it instantly. Nikko did too. The sensation was familiar yet infinitely refined. It reminded them of corruption, but cleansed. Sharpened. Purposeful.

Nikko laughed, breathless, primal energy surging around her without resistance for the first time. Elizabeth placed a hand over her chest, eyes shining as she felt death itself settle into harmony rather than hunger.

Nearby, Eden clutched the small, unconscious form of Blessing in his arms. His heart pounded as her fingers twitched. Slowly, her eyes fluttered open.

Relief hit him so hard his knees nearly gave out.

“I’m so glad you’re okay,” he whispered.

Blessing stared at him for a moment, unfocused, then reached up with both tiny hands and touched his face. Eden laughed, something wet slipping from his eyes as the world blurred around them.

Across the battlefield, jubilation erupted. Trial takers shouted, laughed, cried. Weapons fell from numb fingers. It was clear as day. They had won.

Selena tightened her grip on Darian’s hand, her voice trembling.

“He did it. He actually did it.”

Then a voice cut through the celebration.

“Mom?”

Both parents froze before turning. They would recognize that voice anywhere, but hearing it should have been impossible. The voice belonged to their daughter, Valeria, and there she stood, whole and breathing, exactly as they remembered her. Not dead, but alive.

For a heartbeat, they couldn’t move. Then before they knew it they ran to her, arms wrapping around her, sobs breaking free as promises Leon had made became reality before their eyes.

Even in Pandora, order returned. The primordials felt it at once. A deep, soothing calm spread through existence, laws settling into balance at last.

Nikko frowned suddenly, scanning the sky.

“But where’s Leon?”

At that moment, space shimmered.

Light folded inward, and the Brightest Star stepped into view. Her expression was unreadable, eyes carrying relief, exhaustion… and something heavier.

Elizabeth’s expression hardened the moment the Brightest Star appeared alone.

So did Nikko’s. So did Racheal’s. Even Leon’s parents, still holding Valeria like she might vanish if they loosened their grip, felt their relief curdle into dread.

The battlefield was silent again, but it was not the silence of victory.

It was the silence of something missing.

All eyes were on the Brightest Star.

Leon should have been with her.

Elizabeth was the one who finally spoke. Her voice was steady, but only because she forced it to be.

“Where is Leon?”

The Brightest Star opened her mouth to answer and then stopped.

She scratched her cheek, visibly embarrassed.

That single gesture shocked everyone more than any wound or cosmic collapse ever could.

“Well…” she said, avoiding their eyes. “That’s… complicated.”

****

Leon sat in a booth that definitely should not have existed.

A diner. Old, modest, slightly worn. Red seats. A counter that hadn’t been polished in years. Neon lights that buzzed faintly overhead.

Outside the windows was nothing but a dead planet and an endless black sky.

Across from him sat the Law of Imperfection.

She glanced around, clearly confused. “Why does this place exist?”

Leon leaned back, relaxed, like the fate of reality wasn’t hanging by a thread an hour ago.

“You said you wanted to understand me. So I brought you somewhere important.”

A corrupted creature shuffled over, misshapen but polite, carrying a tray.

Leon spoke before it could leave. “Normally I’d say family. But you’ll get that eventually.” He nodded at the bowls.

“This comes first.”

One bowl of chocolate ice cream landed in front of him, piled high with cream and toppings.

One bowl of vanilla, equally excessive, was placed in front of her.

She stared at it like it might explode.

Leon gestured casually.

“Try it. You won’t regret it.”

She hesitated, then scooped a small bite.

Her eyes widened the next moment, as she quickly took another. Then another. Then she abandoned all restraint, eating with shocking speed and zero dignity.

Leon watched her with a quiet smile.

“Told you.”

For a while, neither of them spoke. Just two absolutes sitting together, sharing ice cream in a forgotten corner of existence.

Then the roof exploded.

Leon yelped, half rising from his seat. “What the—”

Dust filled the diner. Debris rained down. When it cleared, four familiar figures stood there.

Nikko. Racheal. Elizabeth.

Behind them, the Brightest Star stood stiffly, wearing an expression that clearly said I tried.

Leon froze for half a second. Then his composure snapped back into place like nothing had happened.

“Oh. Hey,” he said cheerfully. “Perfect timing. There’s enough ice cream for everyone.”

Elizabeth stared at him. Then at the Law of Imperfection, still aggressively licking vanilla off her spoon.

She sighed, deeply, like a woman who had accepted that this was her life now.

“I want strawberry,” she said, pulling out a chair.

Nikko was already seated before anyone noticed, spoon in hand.

“I will forgive you this time.”

Racheal stayed standing a moment longer, shocked at this sight.

​”What happened to our plan?”

They had come to give Leon a piece of their mind, but that was no longer happening.

She paused as Leon slid a bowl toward her.

“…Traitors,” she muttered, sitting down anyway.

Soon, laughter filled the diner.

On a dead planet. In a broken diner. With perfection, imperfection, gods, generals, and monsters sharing dessert like children after a long, terrible day.

And for the first time since creation began tearing itself apart, the future felt quiet.

Not perfect.

But whole enough to try again.

THE END