Ex-Rank Awakening: My Attacks Make Me Stronger-Chapter 116: EX . Sword Valley

The tide had begun to turn.

Amidst the chaos of the battlefield, there was a shift. Not one born of morale or strategy, but of raw force. The Federation’s lines, which had been staggering under the brutal might of the enemy forces, found sudden breath.

Leon Kael was at the center of it.

Five A-rank demons, each a nightmare of muscle, claw, and unnatural might, had converged on him. Their hulking frames formed a death ring, surrounding the lone combatant like wolves around a wounded deer. But Leon didn’t move. Not yet. His sword rested loosely in his grip, his stance relaxed.

Up on a slope not far away, one of the Azure Colonels spotted the formation.

"Hold on, Cadet! I’m coming!" he shouted, breaking into a dash.

A few nearby soldiers turned at the call, eyes going wide. They looked at one another.

"Has the Colonel not been watching?"

"No way he saw it... if he did, he’d know to stay put."

Because anyone who had seen Leon move wouldn’t dare interrupt. They’d just find a good view.

The demons lunged all at once, claws flashing like obsidian blades. The colonel’s heart clenched. "Cadet, dodge!!" he roared—

It was Too late.

But not for Leon.

"Extreme Art..." he whispered as the temperature suddenly dropped.

"...Sword Valley."

Reality folded.

As a ripple passed over the ground, soft at first, then sweeping like a tidal wave of calm. In an instant, the battlefield dissolved around them, replaced by a silent valley painted in greys and soft whites, blades blooming like flowers across the hillsides, all pointing toward the center. Toward Leon.

The sudden stillness wasn’t peace. It was dread.

The demons staggered mid-swing. This realm didn’t belong to them. Every sword that jutted from the earth radiated a single, silent promise:

Death.

Leon moved. As his sword hand rose, not with power, but with grace, like a man reaching for rain.

One slash, then two, three, four, and finally Five.

After the last stroke the valley shattered like glass, and the battlefield snapped back into place. The demons stood frozen, mid-motion, before their bodies fell apart. Not in halves or clean lines but as minced shadows of what they once were, shredded from within.

Leon exhaled, a single breath against the wind.

The colonel skidded to a halt, stunned. His mouth hung open, not just from the carnage, but from recognition.

"That... that was Sword Valley..." he murmured. "Why did it look so perfect?"

Sword Valley, was an art designed to lull an enemy into lowering their guard, to open them for a final, precise strike. It didn’t drag one into an illusion just to be shown a show before being killed; that wasn’t how the art worked. The Colonel knew this, as that was the art he chose to use to rank up.

This wasn’t a cultivation novel. This was real life.

But Leon’s Extreme Art twisted the rules.

The art didn’t mimic, it enhanced. Took the concept and distilled it until it transcended its rank. Sword Valley was meant to trick the enemy. Leon’s version left no room for tricks. Just inevitability.

Leon glanced over his shoulder, nodding once to the colonel. Then he vanished into the haze of war, his sword already drawing another path.

One of the watching soldiers blinked, then yelled, "He’s moving again! Let’s follow, maybe we’ll see something cool!"

The colonel almost snapped. This is a battlefield, not a stage play. But he said nothing. Because his feet were already moving. Not to lead, but to follow.

Because like the rest of them... he wanted to see what Leon would do next.

****

The battlefield was a blur of blood and steel, smoke rising like curtains between squads locked in combat. At the forefront, Leon stood like a storm given flesh, his blade flashing faster than thought, cleaving through the demon tide with monstrous precision. A-rank demons fell one after another, some torn in half mid-lunge, others reduced to pulp before they could scream. His presence alone shifted the balance.

With most of the A-rank threats obliterated by his hand, the Federation forces surged forward with renewed momentum. The high-rank combatants, now freed from facing enemies of equal footing, scattered across the battlefield to support the lower ranks. It was a ripple effect, one born of pure violence, Leon’s violence.

At the rear edge of the fray, Unit One carved through their own wave of enemies. Eleanor’s blade gleamed as she cut down a charging F-rank, her movements clean and efficient. Adrian, calm and brutal, drove his fist through another demon’s chest before kicking it aside. Eden was more subtle, sending fire balls from a safe distance.

Then, mid-cast, Eden stopped. Completely.

Eleanor noticed it first.

"Eden?" she called out, still panting slightly. "What is it?"

Eden didn’t respond at first. His expression had hardened, not with fear, but calculation. Then slowly, he turned toward them, eyes narrowing.

"I can feel it," he said grimly. "Heat signatures of F-rank demons, underground. And they’re carrying bombs. I think they are trying to set off a chain reaction and blow this whole place apart... "

Adrian’s fists clenched. "Then we need to report it to a high ranking officer."

But Eden shook his head sharply. "There won’t be time," he said, already scanning the terrain. His voice was lower now, and sounded more urgent. "If we waste time, it might already be to late."

He turned to Eleanor. "Come on, Elenore. We need to act now."

Eleanor hesitated, biting down on the instinct to argue. Her gaze flicked between Eden and Adrian before she said, carefully,

"Let’s scout the area first, before reporting, because a false report can lead to unwanted chaos." Eleanor chose to believe Eden. She knew about his talent and its sensitivity to heat, so the warning, even if false, shouldn’t be taken lightly.

"Fine," Adrian muttered, stepping forward. "Lead the way."

Eden nodded, already moving. "Stay close."

As he lead the way his eyes, unseen by his squadmates, shifted into pitch-black pools swallowing his irises whole.

Far ahead, unaware of the storm about to unfold behind him, Leon’s sword fell once more, cutting through the neck of another A-rank demon as blood sprayed across his face. The screams of the dying drowned beneath the chaos, and yet the real danger hadn’t even begun.