The reason the trial world was considered a boon to trial takers wasn’t just the challenge, they were treasure troves. When one cleared a trial, the system itself rewarded them with items that could boost their power, strengthen their bodies, or even refine their minds. But the true prizes were the orbs.
Skill Orbs and Art Orbs.
Each one carried the imprint of mastery, a crystallized essence of power. To most trial takers, they were priceless shortcuts. Instead of spending months or years learning spells as a mage, or drilling countless techniques as a warrior, one could simply absorb an orb. In monts, what would’ve taken a lifeti was etched into muscle mory, into the soul itself. The higher the trial’s rank and tier, the stronger the orbs granted upon completion. It was for this reason that most trial takers chose to focus on skills over traditional spells or techniques. Only when their skill slots were filled would they turn to the slower paths of cultivation.
That was the logic, structure and system’s design.
And yet... what Leon was staring at broke that logic apart.
His eyes narrowed at the faintly glowing sphere nestled inside the corpse of the black rabbit. His voice dropped to a whisper, almost reverent.
"A skill orb... inside a rabbit?"
That shouldn’t be possible. Rewards didn’t drop from monsters. They ca after clearing trials. Everyone knew that. The system itself had made that clear from the beginning. But if his suspicion was right, if orbs could appear within the bodies of creatures in this world, it changed everything. and the very flow of the trial.
Leon crouched low, his hand steady as he reached into the corpse and pulled the orb free. Its surface shimred faintly, starlight trapped in glass. He turned it over in his hand, waiting for the familiar chi of the system.
But their was Nothing.
His brows furrowed. "That’s strange. It feels like a skill orb... but why am I not receiving a system notification?" Normally, the mont one touched an orb, the system prompted them: [Do you wish to learn this skill?]. But now the silence was unnerving.
"Could I be wrong?" he muttered.
He held the orb for a while, debating, until a thought flickered across his mind.
"What if I break it?"
Leon didn’t hesitate as he willed it and the orb cracked, before shattering in his palm. Its fragnts dissolved instantly into radiant stardust, flowing like liquid light straight into his head.
Then ca the pain.
Leon collapsed, clutching his skull as the world spun violently around him. His thoughts fragnted, scattered like glass under a hamr. Blood trickled from his nose, hot and wet, his vision painting red at the edges. His eyes felt ready to burst from their sockets. The knowledge clawing at his brain was raw, untad, information no human mind was built to handle.
’Am I... going to die like this?’
The stray thought cut through the agony, defiance sparking even as he writhed.
’Fat chance.’
Through the haze of pain, Leon understood what was happening. The orb, the thing that looked like a skill orb, had given him information, but it wasn’t formatted for him. It was wild, feral, and designed for sothing else entirely. The human mind couldn’t process it. But Leon wasn’t limited to that. He had sothing greater.
His lips moved through the agony, his voice a growl:
"Extre Art."
The mont the words left his mouth, his body responded. The art flared, burning through his veins, and the ntal block that had resisted him shattered like brittle glass. The knowledge poured in, not raw anymore but reshaped, molded into a form he could grasp. Not as a human, but as Leon.
The concept crystallized. The old rabbit’s racial trait, its hardened experience, its elental imprint, it didn’t remain separate. The Extre Art absorbed it, assimilated it seamlessly, weaving it into his being. His art pulsed stronger than before, as if upgraded by sothing primal.
And just like that, the pain was gone.
Leon’s breathing steadied, sweat dripping from his chin. His hands shook, but his eyes sharpened. What was once tornt was now clarity.
This world wasn’t just a trial. It was sothing else entirely.
****
Leon was still struggling to breathe, chest rising and falling as if he had run a marathon. He forced himself to sit up, every movent demanding extra effort. His voice ca out ragged, directed to no one but the empty clearing.
"Did I... almost die?"
The words felt heavier than they should.
Leon prided himself on being "careful". He always told himself that, be cautious, don’t take risks you you won’t be able to handle the reprucussions of. Yet what he’d done earlier was reckless, even by his own standards. He had tampered with sothing he barely understood. If not for his quick thinking in those final monts, his corpse would be lying here instead. And worse, it wouldn’t even have been a glorious end. Just a stupid, aningless one.
"I have to be more careful," he muttered, though even as he said it, the thought twisted inside him. ’But can I really? With how things are going... it feels impossible.’ After all, no one can truly be careful. Those who try just suffer from paranoia, and that on its own isn’t living.
He let the silence linger until his heartbeat finally slowed. Only then did Leon push himself to his feet, brushing dirt off his jacket. The trembling in his hands had eased, but not the unease in his chest. He needed to know what had changed.
With a steadying breath, he willed the familiar panel open.
---
[Status Panel]
Na: Leon Kael
Race: Human
Age: 19
Class: Warrior
Rank: E-Rank
Talent: {Attack} — EX Rank
Status: Normal
Health: 100%
[STATS]
Vitality: 2650
Stamina: 2650
Strength: 2525
Senses: 2525
Speed: 2525
Aura: 2525
Affinity: Force(I)
[Skills]
[EXTRE ART]
[Inventory]
---
All of his skills and arts had been neatly organized under Extre Art. The art worked like, an operating system that managed every skill and art he had learned, and every ability he might one day master.
Leon tapped the tab open. His brows rose slightly at what was displayed.
[Steel Forge]
****
Thank you for reading.
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