Creation Talent

“Hehehe.”

Leila flashed a grin. Considering her venomous personality, it was easy to infer that this was truly, really rare for her—a genuine smile. She was that excited right now.

“Let’s see who’s stronger, Kim Jihun!”

With that, she began concentrating her divine power. In truth, she didn’t even need to target Kim Jihun. The current leaders of the promotion battle—1st and 2nd place—were none other than Kim Jihun and herself. The other scrubs would just fight among themselves and ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠wipe each other out. Or she could simply hunt low-level gods weaker than her, and the battle would end in no time.

But where’s the fun in that?

“Let’s ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠clash.”

Her rivalry blazed anew. Leila started drawing up her divine power. The immense reserves she’d inherited from her high creation god bloodline gathered in her white wings. They soon began to glow white-hot.

“I’ll show you my power.”

The divine power she wielded was on par with a full-fledged general god who’d completed all schooling. High creation gods were an exalted realm reached by only a tiny fraction of the divine race. Born of such noble lineage, she possessed more power than any peer among the gods.

And if she unleashed it at full throttle?

“Ahahaha!”

Leila burst into delighted laughter.

Atop her slender hand, an enormous amount of densely compressed divine energy was being squeezed into oblivion. Leila intended to go all out.

Jihun kept using his sneakers, leaping repeatedly to close in on Leila. But it was too late. His speed was impressive, but the distance between them was vast. Jihun’s strength lay in close combat. With stealth, leaps, and sword strikes, he held every advantage up close. That’s why he was pushing full throttle to get near.

Yet Leila’s attack manifested faster than he could close the gap.

It was an enormous beam. ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠A strike worthy of a god—one that could casually obliterate a planet—hurtled toward Jihun. The flashing ray illuminated a swath of the vast Boundary.

“Haa!”

Leila unleashed her all-out strike and slumped with exhaustion. Ahh, so refreshing. She truly felt that way. Leila possessed divine power far beyond a typical low-level god. But she’d never once unleashed it all in a satisfying burst. Her reserves were so vast that she’d never found a worthy opponent.

But her current foe was Kim Jihun. The one opponent she acknowledged as a rival—the miraculous being who’d risen from mortal to low-level god. Watching Jihun approach, Leila suddenly thought,

‘Maybe that’s why I sought a rival. To ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠go all out for once.’

She was that satisfied. For the first time ever, she’d poured out every ounce of her power. Her face slackened in contentment.

And at last, Jihun arrived before her.

“Haa, Leila. You were holding back all this time, huh.”

Holding back? Leila smirked and shot back.

“Less ‘holding back’ and more ‘no enemy worth going all out on.’”

“Same difference.”

Jihun, who’d barely dodged her massive beam, was a mess. His clothes were scorched and missing patches where the attack had grazed him, and his defense force field teetered on the brink of collapse. He’d nearly lost right there.

But her full-power attack had failed. Jihun had sensed it and desperately evaded. The pillar of light hadn’t hit him dead-on—just a glancing blow. And now he’d closed the distance.

Jihun slowly raised his sword.

“Alright. Ready to lose?”

“Obviously. Come on, break my defense force field. I can’t even lift a finger right now.”

She’d gone all out with that decisive strike on Jihun, but it had missed. Failure meant defeat. With Jihun right there, she had no way to defend or flee—her divine power was spent. So she admitted defeat, gazing at his sword pointed at her.

Soon her force field would shatter, she’d be marked defeated, and forcibly teleported back to school. She, a direct descendant of a high creation god, losing to a low-level god born from a mortal intellect. But her mood wasn’t bad.

For the first time, she’d given her all—and lost. She simply closed her eyes, basking in the pleasant exhaustion.

Jihun eyed her expression, puzzled, and asked,

“Why do you look so relieved? If it weren’t for me, you could’ve survived and graduated early.”

“I went all out, so no regrets. I’ll just join next month’s promotion battle. You won’t be there, so I’ll win easy.”

Jihun studied her face. Gone was the usual irritation; instead, she wore a languid look, as if all her stress had melted away. He lowered his sword and sheathed it.

Leila blinked in surprise.

“Why aren’t you striking me down? I attacked first.”

She was genuinely curious. That blast had been every drop of her power—sincere and lethal. If it had landed properly, Jihun would’ve been defeated in an instant. Yet after tanking such a blow, he was sparing her? It made no sense.

To her, Jihun replied calmly,

“You picked up my notebook and gave it back.”

“Huh?”

What kind of random nonsense was this? She stared at him, baffled.

Jihun continued,

“That notebook was important to me. You found it and returned it. Consider this payback.”

Leila still couldn’t wrap her head around it. Sparing the guy who’d nearly knocked her out over a notebook?

But Jihun’s inner thoughts were far different.

‘Thanks to you, school was actually fun.’

He remembered. The contemptuous stares from countless low-level gods. A mere mortal intellect turned god. His Ma-shin-like appearance. His rootless bloodline. He was a half-baked low-level god, scorned and shunned. No one spoke to him. No one acknowledged him.

But Leila had treated him as an equal. They competed, talked, agonized together. She was the only one who’d seen him as a peer.

That’s why Jihun didn’t strike. She was the sole person at school who’d accepted him.

“...Thanks.”

Jihun murmured softly. Leila startled at his sudden words and looked at him, but he’d already turned and walked away.

“Huh?”

Leila blankly watched his retreating back, not grasping the situation. Her cheeks flushed faintly.

And so the promotion battle ended.

As expected, Kim Jihun and Leila had survived the promotion battle. Jihun glanced at the status board and nodded.

“No changes, huh.”

While he and Leila had clashed, this 3rd-place low-level god named Erestia had been hunting others. That fulfilled the three-survivor end condition, letting Jihun breathe easy.

He thought,

‘Man, Leila’s insanely strong.’

That divine power blast she’d fired. It was terrifying. No way to believe it came from a low-level god—that firepower from her hand. Chills ran down Jihun’s spine as he rubbed his arms.

‘A direct hit would’ve ended me instantly.’

He’d poured everything into escaping her barrage—and barely. Even the graze had nearly shattered his force field. A split-second slower, and he’d be back at school, swallowing his rage.

“Still, victory’s victory. Feels good.”

He’d won fair and proud, so his mood was high.

“But why no teleport? It’s over.”

Odd. The battle had clearly ended, yet nothing happened. Winners should receive divine power essence, with some announcement—but silence.

Puzzled, Jihun looked up at the floating status board. His eyes widened in shock.

The board had turned grotesque.

“What the hell...”

Jihun muttered in disbelief, eyes glued to the massive floating display. The situation was utterly abnormal. The golden text, now darkening as if devoured by shadow, began to fade.

Jihun instantly grasped it: an unforeseen incident.

Simultaneously, a massive darkness surged from afar.

It was the Void. The merciless force that reduced all existence to nothing. The universe’s nemesis. The gods’ eternal foe. Why had it appeared here, in an arena protected by higher gods?

Jihun couldn’t fathom it.

The Void at the Boundary was now targeting this arena, pouring in.

Jihun swallowed hard, tensing.

‘Unforeseen incident.’

He should’ve been teleported to school post-victory for rewards. But now the Void attacked? This was no normal event.

Jihun drew his sword, preparing for the unexpected. Something was happening.

Then a woman flashed in his mind.

‘Leila!’

Leila. She’d exhausted her divine power fighting him. As a survivor, she was still somewhere in the arena. And now the Void raged here.

‘I need to find Leila!’

Powerless without divine power, a god was defenseless. If the Void hit her, she’d fall helplessly.

‘Leila’s in danger!’

Jihun kicked off, searching for her. He circulated his power, activating detection to scan likely spots. But the invading Void nullified his waves, forcing him to run on foot.

“Leila!”

“Leila!!”

He called desperately, infusing his voice with power. No sign of her. He leaped around, scanning, charging blindly toward where he’d last seen her.

Then he witnessed it.

“Kyaaack!”

Leila under attack by the Void. Relieved she was alive, Jihun activated his artifact and leaped to her.

Leila, mid-assault by the Void, stared wide-eyed at Jihun. He slowly raised his sword and murmured lowly,

“Get behind me.”

Leila gaped at him blankly.