The centralized marketplace buzzed with activity, a constant flow of voices bartering, discussing trades, and planning their next ventures. Stalls lined the area, offering weapons, armor, herbs, and rare materials scavenged from the wilderness or looted from dungeons. The scent of freshly cooked at and roasted grains wafted through the air as makeshift food vendors catered to exhausted adventurers looking for a mont of respite.
But even among the lively chatter and business dealings, one topic dominated every conversation—
The Leaderboard.
Excitent and awe filled the air as the nas of the top-ranked participants spread throughout the community like wildfire. So spoke of them with admiration, others with jealousy, and a few with quiet determination, eager to climb the ranks themselves.
Many dedicated themselves to relentless training, honing their skills, sharpening their blades, and testing the limits of their Force Alignnts.
They sought fa, glory, power, and recognition.
For most, their old lives were nothing more than distant mories. So had been students, workers, or ordinary citizens. Now, they were forced to survive—thrust into a world beyond comprehension, where monsters lurked in every shadow, and power dictated one’s place in the new hierarchy.
Among the thousands of participants, only twenty stood at the pinnacle.
The Top 20 experienced a mix of admiration, awe, envy, and hostility.
So were revered as heroes.
Others were resented.
Not everyone was willing to accept their place at the bottom.
Global Leaderboard – Top Ranked Participants
1. Jin Saito
2. Kaito Ren
3. Mira & Lillian
4. Reinhardt Vale
5. Valeria Eris
6. Darius Kain
7. Asha Quinn
8. Orin Graves
9. Cassius Ward
10. Reina Falken
11. Ryker Voss
12. Elena Cross
13. Damian Holt
14. Lucien Graves
15. Freya Solis
16. Noah Vance
17. Zane rcer
18. Ivy Renfield
19. Garrick Vale
20. Seraphine Rho
Kaito Ren, happily selling off his spoils went to a familiar stall. The stall owner lazily yawning, leaning and resting opened one of her closed eyes, adjusted the fra of her galsses and greeted the leader of The Lone Fang
“Hiya, sa request as before or sothing new this ti”
The stall was cluttered with odd trinkets, rare materials, and peculiar equipnt—most of which were ignored by the general crowd. Unlike the well-established rchants dealing in weapons, armor, and potions, this particular stall attracted little attention. The owner, a girl with an air of perpetual disinterest, barely acknowledged those who passed by.
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Kaito Ren, leader of the Lone Fang, made his way to her stall with a purpose. Unlike the others, he knew exactly what he was looking for—a rare trinket she had found within a dungeon, an item that would be invaluable to him.
A small, unassuming crystalline pendant, faintly humming with residual energy.
Most dismissed it as a useless curiosity, but to Kaito, it was a boon to his Lunar Edge force— Allows silent, precise combat with energy blades
This trinket, if his instincts were correct, would decrease to noise of his attacks, making them sharper, faster, and deadlier.
However, obtaining it ca with a bizarre request.
"You want what?" Kaito asked, one brow raised.
"Plain clothes," the stall owner replied without opening her eyes, reclining lazily in her chair. "Oversized sweatshirt. Oversized sweatpants. Preferably baggy and comfortable."
Kaito blinked.
She was adamant about her request, not budging even for one of the strongest participants in the Expanse. She refused to even disclose what creature had dropped the trinket, brushing off all inquiries with the sa casual disinterest she seed to have for everything around her.
For most, such a trade seed utterly absurd—exchanging a potentially rare and valuable artifact for sothing as mundane as clothing. Yet, Kaito got the feeling she wasn’t expecting the actual clothes but rather the materials necessary to craft them.
She yawned, watching the bustling life of the settlent unfold before her with complete detachnt, her unassuming deanor making it difficult to believe she had any place in combat, let alone surviving in a world as brutal as this one.
Kaito sighed, rubbing the back of his head. "Nothing for you yet. Maybe if I were stronger, I’d be able to fight tougher creatures and get you better materials."
She barely reacted, her voice drifting lazily. "Maybe."
A small smirk played on Kaito’s lips as he turned, waving a casual hand over his shoulder. "Maybe next ti."
And just like that, he was gone, leaving the mysterious rchant to her quiet existence, waiting for the right exchange.
Jin casually strolled back into the settlent, his pace relaxed, his expression unreadable. He carried no urgency, despite the way every pair of eyes seed to latch onto him the mont he arrived.
His return was almost routine at this point—dumping off materials and equipnt he had collected from dungeon runs, so of which he had no use for, others that would fetch a decent price or be useful to crafters.
As expected, people flocked to him.
Admiration, curiosity, the hope of learning sothing from him—it all blended together in the bustling voices that greeted him. Questions flooded in.
“Jin, how do you fight against a Venomfang Wolf alone?”
“Any advice on dealing with dungeon traps?”
“What’s the best way to handle force-imbued creatures?”
“Can you take into a dungeon run next ti?”
And Jin, as always, answered every single one of them—calmly, patiently, without a hint of arrogance. He didn’t hoard knowledge, didn’t act untouchable like many of the stronger participants did. His presence was magnetic, not just because of his strength, but because of his willingness to help others grow.
Even the guild leaders respected him—not just for his overwhelming combat ability, but for his deanor.
Reinhardt Vale, the leader of Iron Fang, one of the strongest combat guilds in the settlent, approached with a familiar grin.
“Hey, Jin. We’re still good for that Grade E dungeon run, right? We could really use your help.”
Jin returned a small nod. “Of course. That’s fine, just let replenish my supplies and rest for a bit.”
Similar conversations followed—requests to assist in dungeon runs, hunt specific creatures, or offer insight on combat strategies.
Despite his preference for solitude, Jin never refused those who genuinely sought his help.
And that, more than anything else, made him undisputedly popular.
Jin's sharp eyes scanned the surrounding stalls, his gaze flickering over various items, assessing their worth in an instant. Unlike most participants, who sought raw power, stronger weapons, or Force-enhanced armor, his focus was entirely elsewhere.
He was searching for anything—equipnt, materials, elixirs—anything that could reinforce the mind.
Specifically, gear that boosted ntal attributes.
Items that enhanced focus, strengthened willpower, or warded off status effects. Cursed afflictions, mind interference, hallucinations—he sought defenses against them all.
It was an unusual obsession.
At this stage of the trials, no one had encountered true ntal warfare yet. The participants were still in the early phases of their adventure, barely grasping the deeper mysteries of the Expanse. And yet, Jin moved with urgency, as if he knew sothing they didn’t.
No one understood why the ranked number one player was so fixated on such items.
But what people did know was that he had a fortune in Aether Stones and valuable loot from the dungeons he had conquered.
Because of this, rchants and traders rushed to sell him anything that even remotely boosted ntal stats, hoping to catch his eye and earn spirit stones—a new cultivation resource that was steadily rising in value.
So sought his favor, hoping that pleasing Jin Saito would earn them future benefits.
Others did it out of respect—because Jin had helped many participants without ever asking for anything in return.
Regardless of their reasons, they all contributed to his growing collection.
And yet, despite accumulating all these items—it was never enough.
Jin moved from stall to stall, purchasing with chanical efficiency, yet his expression never changed. His movents never hesitated.
His need for ntal fortification wasn’t just preparation.
It was desperation.
And though no one knew what he was truly searching for—
They were willing to help him find it.
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