After dealing with the depressed Rudy, Leon turned his attention back to the gathered crowd. The boy was still kneeling, tears of joy streaming down his face, but Leon had other matters to address.

"Step back from the center of the arena," Leon commanded, his voice carrying across the space with divine authority.

The crowd immediately complied, shuffling backward with reverent haste. Even Max retreated to the edge, sheathing his twin swords as he moved. The packed dirt circle stood empty, waiting.

Leon raised his hand, and the air itself shimmered. Then, without restraint, he began pulling items from his inventory.

Whoooosh!

The first wave materialized—stacks upon stacks of lumber, appearing from thin air and landing with heavy thuds that shook the ground. Pre-cut beams, quality planks, and entire logs manifested in neat piles towering above the crowd.

But he was far from finished.

Shimmer-crack!

Crates of nails, hammers, saws, and every conceivable construction tool appeared next. Then came the furniture—tables, chairs, bed frames, all pre-built and ready for use. The crowd gasped as more items materialized. Books on carpentry, blacksmithing, and medicine. Anvils and forges. Medical supplies and surgical tools. Bolts of cloth in colors they hadn't seen in six years. Seeds for vegetables and plants they had only dreamed of growing.

Thud! Crash! Clink!

The arena transformed into a mountain of supplies. Leon didn't hold back—he brought out everything he had prepared. Weapons superior to their worn armor, fresh sets of clothing, tools for professions they'd never imagined learning. The pile grew so large that people craned their necks to see the top.

The crowd stood in stunned silence, eyes wide with disbelief. Many fell to their knees again, overwhelmed by the sheer magnitude of what their god provided.

"These supplies," Leon spoke, his ethereal form floating slightly above the ground as he surveyed the mountain of goods, "were always meant for you. Use them now. Build proper houses. Learn trades. Develop your community further."

He paused, silver-white hair catching the light as he turned to address them all.

"I must admit," Leon continued, a subtle warmth entering his divine tone, "I am impressed. Six years without any contact from me, yet your faith never wavered. Even those who were... rowdy at the beginning." His gaze swept over certain individuals in the crowd, who shuffled nervously, remembering their initial skepticism. "Now I see only devotion in your eyes."

James trembled beside him, his fanatical devotion reaching new heights at these words. Others in the crowd wept openly, touched by their deity's acknowledgment.

Leon understood the reason for their unwavering faith. I gave them exactly what I promised, he thought, observing their faces. They had never gone hungry—not once in six years. They had a place to live, safe from the dangers outside.

The suffering they endured before—they were free from it all here.

His gaze swept across the mud houses, worn paths, and the makeshift arena. It wasn't the grand cities they might have dreamed of, but it was theirs. They had built their own community with their own hands, created entertainment, and established rules and customs. It was a little village—simple, perhaps, but genuine.

"You've created something here," Leon said, gesturing to their settlement. "Not just houses of mud and clay, but a true community. You've enjoyed yourselves, supported each other, and grown together. This is no longer only a refuge—it's a home."

The crowd's reaction was immediate and overwhelming. Some shouted praises, others wept, and still others stood in silent awe at the recognition their god had given them. They had survived, yes, but more than that—they had thrived in their own way.

Seraphine watched with keen interest, noting how Leon was easing his strict divine persona. He's starting to see them as more than just followers, she observed. They've earned something beyond mere survival.

"Now," Leon commanded, his voice regaining its authoritative edge, "organize yourselves. Distribute these supplies properly. Those with knowledge of crafts step forward to claim the appropriate tools. Build real houses. Establish workshops. Transform this village into something greater."

The crowd erupted into motion, but it was organized motion. Six years of living together had taught them cooperation. Groups formed naturally—those with construction experience gathered near the lumber, would-be blacksmiths approached the forges with reverent hands, women examined the cloth and clothing with tears of joy.

Max finally moved from his position, his dark eyes focused on the weapons. His hatred might still simmer beneath, but even he couldn't hide his interest in the superior arms their god had provided.

Rudy had finally risen, wiping his tears as he looked at the mountain of supplies with renewed determination. I'll use these gifts to grow stronger, he thought. I won't waste this chance.

The arena that had moments ago hosted a fight now became a distribution center for the rebirth of their community, all under the watchful gaze of their returned deity.

Leon raised his hand, and the bustling activity ceased. Every eye turned toward him, waiting for his next divine proclamation.

"There is something else," Leon began, his voice carrying that otherworldly quality that demanded attention. "The awakening dungeon."

A collective intake of breath swept through the crowd. They all knew of it—the mythical trial ground where mortals could transcend their limits, where true power could be obtained. For six years, they had wondered who among them would be deemed worthy.

"I have made a decision," Leon continued, floating higher so all could see him clearly. "Originally, I had planned to select only a few based on strength, to choose the most capable among you."

The crowd tensed. Many lowered their heads, already accepting they wouldn't be chosen. The elderly, the weak, those who had lost every fight in the arena—they knew where they stood.

"But I have changed my mind."

Every head snapped up.

"All of you—every single one who wishes it—will have the chance to enter the awakening dungeon."

Gasp! The sound rippled through the crowd like a wave.

"You don't need to prove anything to me," Leon said, his silver-white hair gleaming in the light. "Your faith, your perseverance, your survival for six years—that is proof enough. If you wish to risk the dangers of the dungeon to awaken your talent and go beyond mortal limits, the choice is yours."

Instead of fear, electric excitement surged through the crowd. Even the elderly, those in their sixties who could barely hold a sword, clenched their fists with determination. Mothers with children, young boys and girls who had never won a fight, even the weakest among them, all showed the same burning excitement in their eyes.

"However," Leon's voice darkened, "be warned. Many of you will die inside. The dungeon does not discriminate, does not show mercy. It will test you in ways you cannot imagine. Some of you will not return."

But his warning only fueled their enthusiasm further.

"Death for a chance at power!"

"Better than living as mortals forever!"

"Our God has given us this opportunity!"

More than anything, these chants were fueled by their desire to be useful to the one who had changed their lives.

The shouting grew louder, more fervent. Not a single person showed fear. Six years of survival and faith had transformed them into people who would rather die reaching for power than live safely in mediocrity.

James, trembling with anticipation, suddenly stiffened. His face fell as realization struck. No... no, I can't...

Leon noticed his first slave's distress immediately. "James," he addressed him directly. "You cannot enter."

The crowd turned to James in surprise, and he lowered his head in bitter understanding.

"You are already an awakener," Leon explained, tone matter-of-fact. "The dungeon's laws are absolute—it does not allow those who have already awakened to enter again. Once you have received your talent, you cannot return."

He could enter normal dungeons; however, Leon wouldn't waste much time on them and would make his way toward the Middle Domain next.

James's fists clenched, his whole body shaking—not with devotion this time, but with frustration. Six years... six years of suppressing everything, hoping I could enter again, find stronger prey, unleash what I've been holding back... The psychological torture of having no outlet for his violent nature crushed down on him anew.

"But," Leon added, drawing James's desperate gaze, "your role will be different. You will prepare the others, share what you know of fighting, of survival."

He paused, studying James. He understood now that his first slave was mentally unstable—someone who loved violence too much.

"However, you will have your chance to fight an enemy so strong you have never even witnessed them before."

Those words rang in James's ears; they thrilled him beyond measure. They replayed in his mind again and again.

The rest of the crowd, however, had already moved past James's plight. They were too caught up in their own opportunity.

"When, my Lord?"

"How do we enter?"

"Can we go now?"

The questions came rapid-fire. Even Max, usually controlled and calculating, couldn't hide the burning interest in his dark eyes. That simmering hatred beneath his calm exterior saw the dungeon as an opportunity—perhaps to gain enough power to finally act on the rage he'd nurtured for years.

Rudy stood among them, his earlier depression forgotten. This is my chance, he thought fiercely. Inside the dungeon, maybe I can awaken something that will let me finally match Max. Finally win.

Seraphine observed with a mixture of admiration and concern. "They're all insane," she murmured quietly to Leon. "Not one of them is hesitating despite your warning."

She was shocked at their loyalty, but she realized it wasn't loyalty alone—it was faith.

Leon's expression remained impassive, though inwardly he noted their unanimous enthusiasm. Their faith has reached another level after seeing me again. And perhaps six years of being trapped here, safe but limited, has made them desperate for something more.

"God, when do we enter?" someone called again.

The entire crowd leaned forward, awaiting his answer with breathless anticipation. Even knowing many would die, not a single person wished to be left behind. They would risk everything for the chance to transcend their mortal limitations.

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