Leo stared at the card.
Profile Stats / Guild House Membership Card
Name: Leonard
Surname: Winston
Rank: Iron
Strength: 4
Agility: 6
Cognition: 5
Constitution: 5
Mentality: 6
Characteristic: Divergent.
-Unable to track battle traces-
-Affinity synthesis error detected-
Leo stared at the results sheet, utterly bewildered. Nothing made sense; it contradicted everything Silica had told him. He wordlessly extended the card towards her, his eyes wide with a mixture of confusion and desperation, expressing a clear plea for an explanation.
“What the...?” Leo exclaimed, taking the card, her usual composure faltering for the first time. “Don’t pin this on me. I am just as perplexed as you are.
“Are you sure?” Leo was devastated and spoke in an almost inaudible voice.
Until now, I have never witnessed anything comparable. Your readings are comparable to a Neumond child of six. Right now, you’re barely any stronger than a baseline human. In all my six years working with the Guild, I’ve never seen anything like it.” She wasn't believing the facts.
"But... is it absolutely correct?” Leo stammered, his voice trembling slightly.
“Absolutely, Sir. I checked it three times myself,” she asserted, though a hint of uncertainty lingered in her voice.
"So... what now?” he asked, a note of despair creeping into his voice.
“It's plain and simple: as you are now, you’re screwed. There’s nothing you can do about it with these stats.” She offered a dismissive shrug.
Leo felt his legs weaken, and he leaned against the wall for support. His carefully constructed plans, his dreams of vengeance, all crumbled to dust. A common soldier? That was the last thing he'd imagined. He hadn't even made it to the rank of a low officer.
He swallowed hard, trying to regain control. He remembered his mother's words, "Life is 10% what happens to you and 90% how you react to it." He forced a bittersweet smile, but the sadness in his eyes was undeniable.
For a moment, he questioned why he kept going, trying, and even living. Then, the promise to his mother resurfaced in his mind—the desperate need to be worthy of surviving Besen when so many others, including his own parents, hadn't.
"Mr. Leo, perhaps I can help you..." Silica said softly, her earlier condescending tone replaced by something akin to genuine concern. She seemed to have been unexpectedly touched by his plight. Her usual icy demeanor seemed to have melted, just a little.
"Yes?” he asked, a flicker of hope appearing in his eyes.
"The Guild House gives new Neumonds a Starter Kit as a gift for their adventures; it's not much, but it helps those who are starting out."
"And what exactly is a starter kit?" He asked, a hint of skepticism in his voice.
"A weapon of your choice, a backpack, and camping tools," she replied.
"Yeah, this will help me a lot," he said, looking at her with a deadpan expression. "With making a barbecue in my yard," he gritted his teeth. "How do you expect me to face the world if I'm a loser?".
"I'm sorry, I'm just trying to help." Her voice softened again. She shrank back but continued. "There's one more thing, Mr. Leo."
“You’re not telling me this comes with a clown suit, right?” Leo muttered through clenched teeth, his attempt at humor falling flat.
“Mr. Leo, I’m serious. Please. You could take the growth potential assessment. "It is not much, but it could provide a ray of hope," she said earnestly. She nibbled on her lower lip.
"Or it might be the final straw," he remarked. "But maybe... maybe having absolutely nothing to lose is the driving force I need." A wry smile tugged at his lips as he sighed, a spark of defiance flickering in his eyes.
“Great! Let’s do it, Mr. Leo!” Silica’s face lit up at his agreement, a genuine smile replacing her earlier formality.
They exited the admissions testing room and walked a short distance to another chamber. This one felt different, more scientific. This one was slightly larger, containing a treadmill alongside a peculiar, magical contraption with numerous tubes connected to a central sphere and a mask dangling nearby.
“That’s…definitely weird…” Leo muttered, his eyes fixated on the strange machine. He couldn't help but feel a sense of unease.
“This machine measures your metabolism, but the mages at the tower have discovered that it can also gauge your growth potential using mana signatures.”
Humbra’s philosophy defined two forms of cause and effect in Neumond assessments: potentiality and actuality. One determined where someone could potentially end up, while the other measured their current level of development.
“Right…But what do I have to do?” Leo asked, his apprehension growing.
“Simply put on the breathing mask and walk on the treadmill for five minutes,” Silica replied with a reassuring smile. She gestured towards the equipment.
Leo remained hesitant, his gaze darting between the strange machine and Silica's expectant face. But with no other options available, he resigned himself to the process. He climbed onto the treadmill and secured the mask over his face, the long tubes hissing softly as they connected to the strange device. He took off at a fast pace, his heart pounding in his chest. Silica pressed a lever, causing a series of glowing runes to appear around the machine, bathing the room in ethereal light.
“Rest assured, Mr. Leo,” Silica said. “This test is strictly confidential. Revealing the results is forbidden. It’s for your eyes only. I won’t even glance at them. I’ll hand you the results directly, sealed and untampered.”
Unable to voice his growing apprehension, Leo simply raised his shoulders in a silent “Why?”
She didn't need to explain. The answer was obvious. Imagine if others knew the full extent of your capabilities—envy, predatory investments, strategic manipulation, injustice, and even targeted harassment could follow. Such information was dangerous in the wrong hands.
After five agonizing minutes had elapsed, Leo gradually decreased his pace until the machine finally whirred to a stop. He took off the mask, his breath coming in ragged gasps.
Silica reached into the machine and pulled out a small, folded slip of paper, its edges slightly singed from the process. She then passed it to Leo, her hand lingering for a moment as if she were reluctant to part with it.
“Here’s your result. As you can see, it’s folded, so I honestly can’t see it,” she said, her usual nonchalance faltering slightly.
Leo took the paper with trembling hands and unfolded it to read:
Growth Potential: ⛤
Holy sh…! Cough, cough! - Leo blurted out a genuine curse, then began coughing, his breath catching in his throat as he stared at the unbelievable pentagram.
“Excuse me, I... I choked,” he gasped, trying to regain his breath.
“Could you tell me what the potential levels are?” He had to know, had to understand what this meant.
“You’re piquing my curiosity, Mr. Leo,” Silica said with a sincere smile.
Silica explained that the potential rankings ranged from F, E, D, C, B, A, S, to S+. Leo wrestled with the urge to ask what a pentagram ranking meant but restrained himself. Such a question would be exceedingly dangerous, and he suspected it was information beyond her knowledge.
Leo decided to take a gamble.
You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.
“Has there ever been a rating lower than F? Perhaps a G?” he ventured.
“Never in the entire history of the Fros continent.”
“Or anything higher than an S+?” This was the real question he wanted to ask.
“There’s nothing cataloged beyond S+, at least not officially. However, since this is a purely private assessment, our records aren’t comprehensive. I can only offer information based on studies of those who have chosen to share their results,” she concluded.
Leo nodded in agreement.
He felt a surge of hope, a thrill coursing through his veins. This... this could be it. This could be the key to everything. Leo was inwardly elated, convinced that his result was something truly special, at least a glimmer of hope for his otherwise bleak stats.
He thanked Silica for everything she had done, and she offered him the chance to pick up some weapons and a starter kit from the warehouse, which he readily accepted. Since Leo’s stats weren’t all clear, he couldn’t decide on a battle class—at least not yet. He then chose two short swords and a survival kit along with a backpack.
She also explained the Equalizer rankings: Iron > Bronze > Silver > Gold > Platinum > Titanium > Diamond. Advancing through the ranks depended on their accomplishments, spoils earned, reputation, and stats card. The requirements for advancement should be checked at the Guild House, as market fluctuations occurred due to the inconsistent flow of Equalizers and spoils.
As Silica escorted him to the door, she explained that Neumonds evolved through training, not solely by hunting leirions. Even if Neumond only focused on weight training, their strength would improve. To enhance magic, practice with mana was necessary, while unique abilities could be improved simply by using them or meditating. Hunting leirions logically accelerated growth significantly due to the combat experience, stress, and pushing the body to its limits.
After all the preparations, Leo left the Guild House and headed towards the training grounds; he needed some basic instruction to fight, even if it came from the guards.
Upon leaving the Guild House, the training grounds were close by, and since many novice Neumonds trained there, it was the most convenient option.
Leo was starving; he hadn't eaten properly in days. To keep up his training plans, he needed to eat, so he used his pocket money—about 50 copper coins—to buy some bread. The leftovers of the meal he saved into his backpack.
In Humbra, 100 copper coins were equivalent to 1 silver coin, 100 silver coins to 1 gold coin, and 100 gold coins to 1 platinum coin. A typical person’s daily expenses rarely exceeded one gold coin; average prices generally ranged from bronze to silver.
Arriving at the training grounds, Leo felt self-conscious due to the many stronger people training there. He looked for a more secluded spot but couldn’t find one. So, he chose the first straw dummy he felt comfortable using.
He dropped his backpack to the ground and drew his two swords. “Time to see what this pentagram potential is all about!” he thought, his heart racing with anticipation, a nervous energy buzzing beneath his skin.
He gripped the hilts of his new swords, the leather cool against his palms. Leo charged forward, the sound of his swords meeting the dummy echoing through the training grounds, but it wasn't a good strike; it was a dry and weird dull thud. He stumbled, his movements clumsy and uncoordinated. He felt a shiver run down his spine, even a brief urge to urinate—it was an extremely clumsy display, an embarrassing sight to behold. Leo’s hands trembled with each swing, and his swords nearly flew from his grip. Within minutes, the others at the training grounds had nicknamed him the “dummy fairy” due to his light hits and awkward swings.
He persisted until nightfall, continuing to strike the dummy without any technique, flow, or rhythm. By the end of the day, his arms were shaking and his hands were sore and blistered, but he remained focused. He believed that if he kept at it, his pentagram potential would somehow work wonders. He was completely mistaken. Training without technique provides little benefit; it’s a waste of time. He might get somewhere, but not before he starved to death with no money.
Leo persevered for three days, dedicating fourteen hours a day to his training with minimal breaks. At the end of the third night, a man with gray hair but who wasn't too old came up to Leo and asked him.
"What are you up to, lad?" The mysterious soldier walked closer.
"Training! Argh…” Leo lunged at the dummy, his swords flashing, but the attack was poorly executed. He lost his balance and stumbled, falling to the ground with a grunt.
"To me, it looks like you're just beating up your knuckles and getting schooled by this dummy," the man grinned.
Leo sprawled on the ground and felt a wave of frustration wash over him. He was tired, hungry, and his body ached.
"What else can I do? I don't have money for food, let alone a teacher," Leo sighed.
"I can give you some pointers, lad. I've seen you here for three days straight, sweating it out; a lot of people would have quit already," the man said.
"I'm broke. Forget about it," Leo shot back, avoiding the man's gaze.
“You don’t need to pay me; these are just some pointers from a tired old man.” The man drew his great longsword from his back. “As it happens, we’re both swordsmen...”.
The man stepped forward with his right foot and turned swiftly, masterfully. His sword traced a perfect, incredibly fast arc above his head, seeming to pass just by the dummy. A second later, the dummy split cleanly in two diagonally, like a hot knife through butter.
“Holy cow! That’s incredibly strong!” Leo exclaimed, quickly sitting up, startled, his eyes wide with disbelief.
The man let out a satisfying laugh as he sheathed his sword, then offered Leo a hand up.
At that moment, Leo finally met the knight’s eyes, and a rush of both doubt and comforting warmth filled his heart. Although he had seen him only once, long ago, he knew he would never forget his savior’s face now that his memories had returned.
Roland, the knight with the stern countenance and gray hair that reached his ears, personified discipline and austerity. His eyes, cold and sharp like the blade he wielded, seldom revealed any emotion other than the unwavering determination of a seasoned warrior. Around sixty years old, he maintained a firm posture and the strength of a man in his prime, commanding respect with every step. Behind the impenetrable armor and stoic facade, he concealed a solitary heart, open only to those, like Leo, who earned his trust through perseverance and simplicity.
“Roland…?” Leo asked, startled.
“Oh! You remember! Hahaha!” Roland gave another hearty laugh.
“My memories have just returned,” Leo said.
“That’s wonderful, lad! I never approached you after you lost your memory; I was afraid you’d remember that hellish day.”
“And so as I did, I couldn't run away from it anymore; it was difficult to keep living.” Leo lowered his gaze. “But thank you for everything, Roland; you saved my life. I am eternally grateful,” Leo said, extending his hand for a handshake.
Roland just ignored the handshake and side hugged Leo, saying, “We’ve still got a lot to talk about, but let’s just train for now!” and he laughed again. “I’m so glad you took the Neumond path.”
Roland was super cheerful and happy with Leo right then, totally different from how he remembered him that awful day. What could've changed? Leo wondered.
“Three days ago, I was training my guys when I saw you show up. You looked like a ballerina with that dummy, lad! Hahaha!” Roland was cracking up.
“Meh…” Leo’s face kind of scrunched up in a funny way, a mix of embarrassment and self-deprecation.
"Look, lad, go home and get some rest. I’m gonna train you myself tomorrow!”
“Why are you doing this for me, Mr. Roland?”
“Everything has its time. Just take it when a senior’s offering you a hand,” he said, turning around.
“Yeah…” Leo said, but he still hadn’t really processed it. It all felt too good to be true.
Roland waved goodbye to Leo over his shoulder as he walked off. Leo was alone again, lost in thought about the whole thing, when he heard some whispering that snapped back to attention. Two guards were wrapping up their training and gossiping about what just happened.
“Have you ever seen Tiger Roland this happy before?”
“Never. I even thought he was the devil’s right-hand man!”
“Keep it down, you wanna die?”
Leo thought, ”So he’s not really like that... that’s weird. But still, I better be careful.”
Leo then grabbed his stuff and headed back home.
The next day, Leo wanted to get to the training grounds super early. He jumped out of bed, scarfed down a piece of hard bread, and washed it down with a big gulp of water. He grabbed his stuff and took off, feeling pretty pumped.
When he got to the training grounds, everyone stared at Leo and started whispering and laughing.
“Oh! The dummy’s fairy is here.”
“Indeed, the little Wendy doesn’t give up”—lots of laughter in the background.
Leo ignored them, his gaze fixed on his destination. He hung his head and kept walking to his dummy when a voice like a huge thunderclap boomed across the whole training grounds.
“SILENCE!”
Roland bellowed, activating his battle aura. A palpable, killing intent emanated from him, and all those who were not Neumonds kneeled before the immense pressure of his power. It was akin to an alpha wolf asserting dominance over his pack.
“Everyone, return to training! Not another sound!” Roland commanded.
In unison, all the guards present responded to their duty.
“YES, SIR!”
Roland held the rank of captain and, holding such a high rank, logically a Neumond. It was a significant demonstration of strength for someone whose ELEV possesses the trait of physical enhancement.
Roland approached Leo and was about to greet him with a handshake, but things did not proceed as he had intended.
The training grounds were used not only by the guard but also by other Neumonds from the Guild House. There was a distinct tension between the army Neumonds and the Equalizers; they were not on good terms. The Equalizers believed that the army Neumonds only earned their titles because they were not strong enough to fight the Leirions alone, necessitating a battalion for support—they were considered weak.
Several of them disliked Roland’s display and were unimpressed by his battle aura, making a few unpleasant comments.
“Who does that old gorilla think he is?” one of them said.
“Don’t these army superiors have any respect for the Equalizers?” another added.
“The weak never know their place,” another muttered.
Roland, also known as the Devil's Arm, felt his blood boiling. The truth was that Roland was far from weak. Roland’s past was shrouded in mystery, and he certainly did not choose to be the army captain; he was simply placed there to control him.
Roland changed the direction of his hand, which had been reaching out to greet Leo, and instead drew his sword from his back. A sudden aura enveloped him, and with a swift, vertical upward motion, his sword produced a blade of energy that cut across the entire training ground for over 50 meters, leaving a deep but narrow trench in the ground.
He had not struck anyone physically, but he had psychologically shattered the confidence of the Equalizers present. It was a clear display of power that no one there could equal or even question.
“Anything else?” Roland said calmly, his voice dangerously quiet.
A chilling silence descended upon the training ground.
“Good, very good, back to work!” he concluded.
“Are you good, lad?” Roland asked.
Leo stood there watching everything unfold, not even blinking. He had never seen a Neumond demonstrate such battle prowess before, and his world seemed to brighten in that instant. Somehow, Leo knew that Roland wasn't trying to show himself; he was just protecting him from the ceaseless bullying. He could only nod, speechless, his heart still pounding from the display of power.