Neferpitou's expression improved considerably.
After being held back by Ron for so long, the opportunity had finally arrived to strike him down. The frustration had been buried in her chest for quite some time. Yet unlike Pouf, who had only seen part of Ron's abilities, Neferpitou carried a faint sense of unease. She had been shocked again and again by Ron's hidden trump cards. Each time he appeared to be cornered, something new emerged.
Now, although she and Pouf held the advantage, Neferpitou could not be sure Ron had no more cards to play.
Ron glanced at Rosgell below, then at the Blue-Eyes White Dragon beneath his feet, before turning back to face Pouf and Neferpitou.
"Unlucky for you," he said. "I was almost at my limit. Another step, and I would have lost."
Pouf's eyes narrowed. "What do you mean?"
"Nothing," Ron replied lightly. "Just a thought."
"Human." Pouf snorted. "Don't think you can stall for time with cheap words. You're already finished. What hidden strength could you possibly have left? If it existed, you would have used it long ago. I'll admit you're strong. One person restraining two Royal Guards, even briefly, is impressive. But you can't kill Neferpitou. That means your strength, though high, is still limited. You've already lost an important support. Do you really believe you can stand against the two of us together? Impossible."
Ron smiled. "Your analysis is accurate—as expected of the Royal Guard's intellect. If I asked Neferpitou for the same, I doubt the details would be half as precise."
Neferpitou twitched.
Ron went on. "By normal reckoning, I can't beat you both. Missing an important method, I would either be defeated or forced to retreat. No other outcome." He lifted his gaze. "That's why I said your luck is bad."
The crystal orb at his side had just reached full completion. A hundred percent. Normally this meant he could craft another Nen Beast. But that wasn't the most important part. What mattered was the step he was about to take. His path had reached a critical node. He had finally arrived at the condition Maha Zoldyck once described: every S-class Nen user forged a unique path of their own.
A sudden wave of aura burst outward from Ron, surging so strongly that Pouf and Neferpitou's pupils contracted sharply.
Below, Morel's expression hardened. "This aura… it's like Chairman Netero's. Is Ron stepping into that class already? At this age… terrifying." It was the only word he could find.
Shoot's face froze, shock twisting into a bittersweet pang before transforming into exhilaration. "To be the same age as a genius like this, to witness the very moment he breaks through to the S-class threshold… no one else in the world will ever have this chance. Just watching might bring me growth of my own."
Pouf's expression darkened. "Neferpitou—attack!"
The two surged toward Ron. Pouf could fly, while Neferpitou could not, so Pouf split off a clone to carry her upward.
Ron lifted from the dragon's back. The Blue-Eyes roared and lunged straight at Neferpitou, leaving only Pouf to close in. But as he did, Pouf realized something was wrong. Ron's movements were no longer normal—every attack was evaded a fraction before it landed, as if Ron foresaw them in advance. No matter how Pouf tried, the strikes fell just short.
"Damn it. What is this ability?"
Ron answered plainly. "It's the ability I am now nurturing."
"What?"
"This is the difference," Ron said, his voice calm. "Between beings like you, born at the S class… and those like us, who reach it step by step. You were born powerful. We began weak. We trained, we built ourselves little by little, we accumulated endlessly, until we came here. From a fragile human to this point, the process is long, harsh, and filled with effort. But it is also filled with gain. Because of that effort, there is harvest now."
Before reaching the S rank, Ron had already sensed it: once he crossed the threshold, all the years of accumulation would converge into a single, overwhelming ability. Something like Netero's 100-Type Guanyin.
Now, that ability was forming.
A sigil appeared faintly beneath him. As it grew, his aura swelled further. Strength, speed, reflexes, physical durability, aura reserves, spirit—all surged upward together. This was the transformation of crossing into the S class.
The gap between A-rank and S-rank was not a mere step but a chasm. Oster had been a top-class A-rank Nen user, capable of defeating many peers. Yet in Rosgell's assault, he had been helpless. Ron himself could only barely endure Neferpitou's strikes with his body alone. Now he stood at last on that level.
The change was intoxicating. "Not double. Not triple. Many, many times more."
Pouf's gaze fixed on the sigil. "What… is that?"