Chapter 2 The First Intentional Failure
1115 Words
The noise from Awakening Plaza hadn’t fully faded when Leon stepped out of the academy’s main building.
Beyond it lay the training grounds.
A vast steel arena divided by energy barriers into dozens of standardized practice zones. Arcane circuits ran beneath the floor, designed to measure the stability of newly awakened skills.
On Awakening Day, students were allowed to attempt their first manifestation under supervision.
Most approached it cautiously.
Because that first release often shaped a mentor’s impression of you.
Leon didn’t look for an instructor.
He headed straight for the most remote training zone—Field One.
Ryan followed behind him, still visibly irritated.
“You’re really not going to explain anything? F-rank instability—what are you going to do from now on?”
Leon stepped into the center of the field and looked up at the gray sky.
“I’ll test it first.”
“Test what?”
“My talent.”
Ryan frowned. “We already know what it does. Sixty percent failure rate—”
“Exactly.”
Leon closed his eyes.
His consciousness sank back into his mental space.
After awakening, everyone formed a “Talent Core” within their spiritual domain.
Leon’s core wasn’t whole.
It looked like a fractured crystal—
cracks running through it,
energy flowing chaotically inside.
He extended a thread of will and attempted to mobilize power.
[Available Skill: Basic Energy Burst]
Every awakened individual received this elementary ability.
Condense internal energy into a shockwave and release it.
Simple.
And prone to failure.
Leon inhaled slowly.
Energy gathered.
The air before his right hand trembled faintly.
A pale red sphere formed.
Then—
Pop.
The sphere shattered instantly.
No shockwave.
Failure.
Ryan exhaled. “...Figures.”
Leon remained silent.
His bracelet vibrated.
[Failure Count: 2/100]
His eyes sharpened.
It really was counting.
“Again.”
Ryan stared at him. “Are you crazy? Releasing repeatedly right away? The backlash will build.”
Leon gathered energy once more.
This time, he deliberately loosened his mental control.
The sphere formed—
And collapsed again.
[Failure Count: 3/100]
The corner of his mouth lifted slightly.
“You’re doing that on purpose.”
Ryan had noticed.
“Yes.”
“Have you lost your mind?!”
Leon opened his eyes.
“The more failures, the better.”
Ryan was stunned.
“You’ve completely given up?”
Leon looked at the slowly advancing progress bar on his bracelet.
“No.”
“It’s an experiment.”
He released again.
Fourth time.
Fifth.
Sixth.
The red sphere formed and shattered over and over.
Students in nearby zones began to notice.
“Isn’t that the F-rank guy?”
“What’s he doing, farming failures?”
“Haha, ‘Misfire’ really lives up to its name.”
Laughter spread.
Leon ignored it.
He was fully immersed in his mental space.
Each failure caused the cracked core to vibrate faintly.
At first, just ripples.
But after the tenth failure—
He clearly sensed something shifting within the fractures.
A thread of energy deep inside began subtly reorganizing.
[Failure Count: 10/100]
Mental strain mounted.
Sweat formed on his forehead.
Ryan grew uneasy.
“That’s enough. You’re turning pale.”
“Not yet,” Leon murmured.
He needed confirmation.
Twelfth.
Thirteenth.
Fourteenth.
On the fifteenth failure—
A low hum echoed inside his mind.
A thin red line flickered within the fractured crystal.
Just for an instant.
But unmistakable.
The system interface appeared.
[Failure Count: 15/100]
[Talent Activity Increased by 0.3%]
Leon’s breathing stalled.
Activity increased?
So it wasn’t just counting.
Each failure was actually strengthening the structure.
“What are you doing?” Ryan demanded.
Leon looked at him.
For the first time, he spoke with clarity.
“If failure makes me stronger—”
“Then I won’t be afraid of failing.”
Ryan froze.
He had known Leon since childhood.
Knew his restraint.
Knew his calm.
But this—
This wasn’t surrender.
It was something close to obsession.
“Then I’ll count for you,” Ryan said through clenched teeth. “You release. I’ll keep track.”
Leon paused.
Then nodded.
“Alright.”
Sixteenth.
Seventeenth.
Twentieth.
The pressure in his mind intensified.
Veins stood out along his temple.
The surrounding whispers grew louder.
Damian Krauss stood at a distance, watching with a cold smirk.
“Pathetic,” he muttered. “Can’t even control a basic skill.”
His companions chuckled.
Ryan shot them a glare. “Shut up!”
Damian shrugged. “During class ranking trials, I’ll show him what reality looks like.”
Leon didn’t look at him.
Twenty-ninth.
Thirtieth.
When the thirty-first failure struck—
Something changed.
The shattered energy did not fully dissipate.
Instead, it re-condensed in his palm.
The red sphere burned brighter than before.
Still unstable—
But noticeably larger.
Ryan blinked. “That one… was different.”
Inside Leon’s mental space, one of the cracks in the crystal had visibly narrowed.
The interface flashed.
[Failure Count: 31/100]
[Talent Activity Increased to 1%]
[Structural Reorganization Detected]
His chest rose sharply.
It worked.
It actually worked.
Damian’s smile faded. “What’s going on?”
Leon tried again.
Thirty-second.
The sphere didn’t completely collapse.
Thirty-third.
The energy grew denser.
The laughter faded.
Confusion replaced mockery.
“Why does his energy feel stronger?”
“That’s impossible. He’s F-rank.”
Leon didn’t stop.
Thirty-fifth.
Thirty-sixth.
His mind was nearing its limit.
Then—
On the thirty-eighth failure—
Boom.
A complete crimson shockwave erupted from his palm.
It blasted forward and struck the alloy target panel.
Bang!
The metal plate vibrated violently.
The measurement screen lit up.
[Impact Strength: D-Rank (Initial Stage)]
Silence swallowed the field.
Ryan’s jaw dropped. “You… that was a success?”
Leon stared at his palm.
Energy still flowed through it.
The interface updated.
[Failure Count: 38/100]
[Talent Stability Increased]
He slowly lifted his head.
His eyes met Damian’s across the field.
“Sixty percent failure rate?” Leon said calmly.
“Not bad.”
Damian’s face turned dark.
Around them, no one laughed anymore.
An F-rank.
After dozens of failures.
Had produced D-rank output.
From the observation platform, Instructor Kane Rowe smiled faintly.
“As I thought,” he murmured.
“That wasn’t instability.”
“That was an incomplete evolutionary talent.”
Inside Leon, energy surged violently.
The exhaustion was real.
But his Talent Core felt denser than at awakening.
Thirty-eight failures.
In exchange for the first true strengthening.
He knew—
This was only the beginning.
The sky remained gray.
But at the center of the training field,
An F-rank boy
Had ignited the first flame that truly belonged to him.
[Failure Count: 38/100]
Sixty-two more—
Until the first evolution.
- Writer
