SSS Ranked Awakening: All My Skills Are at Level 100

He scanned the room quickly, his eyes catching the various symbols and signs posted around the walls. Directional markers. Floor guides. He spotted the indicators for Floor 1 and Floor 2, thanked the designers for their clear signage, and adjusted his path accordingly. He moved through the lounge with purposeful steps, weaving past furniture and decorative pillars, his gaze fixed ahead.

He felt the elf’s golden eyes on his back the entire time.

He did not look back.

He quickly found his way through different corridors, following the signs until he arrived at a white portal set into the wall. Above it, written in elegant script, were the words: Floor 2.

Relief washed over him. He had made it without having to engage in conversation.

Before stepping through the portal, he stopped.

He reached into his inventory and took out a handful of round objects. They had a slight darkish hue to them, pulsing faintly with corrupted energy. There were a little more than fifty of them in total. All of them were corrupted cores. And all of them were from Archon-ranked beasts—the ones he had collected right after the battle in the dimensional merger zone.

The other beasts’ cores were not important enough to prioritize. They were still being harvested by his people, processed through the normal channels. But these Archon-grade cores were different. They were valuable. Powerful. And he needed them.

The upcoming Class Reawakening Dungeon participants—the people he considered like family—wouldn’t benefit from these cores. In the dungeon, level and cultivation rank wouldn’t matter. Everyone would be plummeted to level 1, stripped of their power, and forced to start from scratch. These cores would be wasted on them.

So Leon could use them all for himself.

Not only that, he still hadn’t checked his stats since he had cleared the first floor of the tower. He had been too busy with the dimensional merger, with Xyra’s arrival, with the chaos of everything that had happened. His progress had been recorded but not reviewed. His strength had increased but was not fully accounted for.

Before entering the second floor, he needed to be ready. Completely ready.

He sat down cross-legged on the floor, arranging the cores in a neat circle around him. The dark energy seeped from them, staining the air with a malevolent hum. Fifty-three Archon-grade cores. A fortune in power. A feast of corruption that would fuel his ascension.

He began the purification.

His holy energy surged from his core, the pure white light that was the nemesis of the abyssal corruption. It flowed through his hands into the first core. The dark hue resisted, writhing against the light like a living thing. But Leon’s energy was relentless. It burned through the corruption, layer by layer, dissolving the abyssal taint until only pure, refined mana remained.

The first core turned clear, its dark hue replaced by a soft, radiant glow.

Leon set it aside and reached for the next.

One by one, he purified the cores. His holy energy worked methodically, efficiently, burning through the corruption with the precision of a surgeon. Sweat beaded on his forehead. His breathing grew heavier. But he did not stop.

Fifty-three cores.

Each one took several minutes of focused, sustained effort. The total time stretched into hours. The corridor was silent except for the hum of his energy and the faint crackle of dissolving corruption.

The elf receptionist did not disturb him. Perhaps she sensed his focus. Perhaps she was waiting for another time.

Either way, Leon was grateful.

The purification continued.

Leon sat cross-legged on the cold stone floor of the corridor, the fifty-three Archon-grade corrupted cores arranged in a rough pile before him. The faint hum of abyssal energy vibrated through the air, a dark chorus that would have made lesser men tremble. But Leon’s expression was calm, his breathing steady, his focus absolute.

He reached down and picked up the first core.

His holy energy ignited in his palm, pure white light surging from his core and flooding the corrupted stone. The reaction was immediate. The dark hue writhed, black smoke hissing as it tried to escape the purifying touch. But Leon’s energy was relentless. It burned through the corruption layer by layer, dissolving the abyssal taint with surgical precision.

Five minutes.

The core turned clear, its dark hue replaced by a soft, radiant glow. Then, in a quiet sigh of light, it crumbled to ash in his palm.

Leon let the ash fall through his fingers and reached for the next one.

Five minutes.

Another core purified. Another handful of ash.

The process was methodical. Meditative. Each core required exactly that amount of time—no more, no less. The purification was a steady burn, consistent and efficient. Leon settled into the rhythm, his breathing syncing with the flow of his holy energy, his mind emptying of everything except the task before him.

Twenty minutes passed. Four cores done.

An hour. Twelve cores done.

Two hours. Twenty-four cores.

Leon did not stop. He did not rest. The pile of ash beside him grew, a soft gray mound that shifted with the faint breeze from the corridor. His holy energy flowed without pause, a continuous stream of purification that showed no signs of wavering.

Three hours. Thirty-six cores.

Four hours. Forty-eight cores.

Five minutes for the forty-ninth. Five for the fiftieth. Five for the fifty-first.

Five minutes for the fifty-second.

Leon reached for the fifty-third and final core. It was the largest of them all, pulsing with a deep, malevolent darkness that seemed to resist even before he touched it. The Archon beast that had yielded this core had been the strongest of the group. The corruption was denser, more concentrated, more stubborn.

He pressed his palm against it and released his holy energy.

The darkness fought back.

Black tendrils surged out, wrapping around his wrist, trying to sink into his skin. Leon gritted his teeth and pushed harder. His light flared, burning brighter, hotter, more intense. The tendrils screamed—a silent vibration that echoed in his skull—and retreated.

Five minutes.

The final core turned clear, pulsed once, and crumbled to ash.

Leon let out a long, slow breath.

Fifty-three Archon-grade cores, all purified. All turned to ash.

He looked at the gray mound beside him, then at his empty palms. The power that had once been locked inside those cores now floated freely in the air around him, waiting to be absorbed. He closed his eyes, centered his breathing, and began.

He pulled the ambient mana into his core.

It came willingly, the purified energy recognizing his affinity, flowing into his meridians like water finding its level. Leon guided it through his channels, nourishing his foundation, reinforcing his base. His level stirred.

Level 46. The first threshold is approached.

He gathered more energy, compressing it, refining it through his core. The barrier between 46 and 47 was thin, weakened by his previous training. The purified mana surged, pushed, and broke through.

Level 47.

Leon kept going. The ambient mana was rich, dense, more than enough to fuel his continued ascent. He pulled it in waves, each surge carrying him closer to the next threshold.

Level 48.

His body hummed. His meridians stretched, accommodating the influx. The energy was pure, refined, perfectly compatible with his cultivation. There was no resistance, no friction. Only growth.

Level 49.

He was approaching the peak of the Ascendant rank. The barrier between 49 and 50 was thicker, more substantial. It required more pressure, more energy, and more focus to break. But Leon had fifty-three Archon-grade cores’ worth of mana to draw from. He had more than enough.

He gathered his power, centered his intent, and pushed.

The barrier cracked. Splintered. Shattered.

Level 50.

Power exploded through him, a surge of energy that made his whole body tremble. His senses sharpened, his perception expanding as the next rank settled into place. He could feel the difference immediately—stronger channels, denser mana, a deeper connection to the world around him.

Leon opened his eyes.

He had reached level 50.

The edge of the Ascendant rank. One more level, and he would ascend to Sage. That was enormous. A breakthrough that would redefine his capabilities, unlock new changes, and probably elevate his combat power to a whole new tier.

But that final step would require more than just energy. It required insight. Enlightenment. A moment of understanding that could not be forced through raw mana alone, and it was not like he had enough mana core to force his way.

He would reach it. Soon.

For now, level 50 was enough.

Leon looked at the pile of ash, then at his hands. He felt the new power coursing through him, the familiar hum of a recent breakthrough settling into his bones.

He stood, stretching his limbs. His body felt lighter, more responsive. The fatigue from the purification process had faded, replaced by the invigorating sensation of newfound strength.

The corridor was silent. The white portal to Floor 2 still glowed ahead of him, waiting.

Leon didn’t take a step forward; instead, he called out status in his mind as a golden translucent window appeared in front of his eyes.