Face
When Leonel reappeared, he had already donned a silver armor from head to toe, a visor of silver-black blocking his abyssal gaze from the world.
Therin felt a pressure the likes of which he hadn't felt in countless years. How long had it been since he was forced into such a battle? He had long since stopped having to scratch and claw for his position in life, and even back when he still had to, his role had never been so violent or necessary.
The bloodlust coming from Leonel's body was practically palpable. It was as though the moment his gaze vanished, taking with it the distraction that froze the heart of the world, the tangible form of what had taken root in his chest was bared for all to see.
King's Might rolled off of him in waves, his very consciousness itself constricting the throats of those unlucky enough to lay eyes on him. And then, his spear swung down.
Therin's throat squeezed down on itself, his rage almost evaporating into the skies above. It was only then that a strong will to live manifested out from the depths of his soul.
He roared. But, it was as much about shaking the fear from himself, as though cobwebs fogging his mind, as it was about asserting his dominance. The Snow Force that had receded under his apprehension came back twice as strong, his palm flipping over to reveal a flexible sword that shot out like a whip with just the slightest flick of his wrist.
The sword had always been a favorite of the Luxnix. It could be said that over 90% of their weapon type techniques were constructed with the sword in mind. And, of those 90%, another 90% focused on the speed of said sword.
It could be said that among the Pinnacle Sixth Dimensional families, the Luxnix had the swiftest blade.
CLANG!
Leonel's spear spun in his hands, his downward swing becoming a frontal block that deflected Therin's own blade to the side. A golden spear lit upon his forehead, its light growing every brighter with each passing moment.
Therin's wrist and forearm quaked every time his sword clashed with Leonel. Despite the size difference of their weapons, he couldn't seem to gain a speed advantage. And, when it came to strength, momentum and heft, Leonel seemed to surpass in him all aspects.
Under the astonished gazes of those who had come with the Division Head, including Riah who still couldn't seem to move, Therin was forced back again and again.
Leonel's spear spun around his back. The clink of a mechanism unlocking as the opposite end snapped into his other palm resoundingly.
Leonel held onto both ends of his spear, the chain that connected them dangling behind him.
His fighting style changed, his speed becoming even quicker. Both of his hands seemed to have gained minds of their own and in the blink of an eye, Therin's speed advantage vanished.
'This…'
'.'
The silvery splendor of Leonel's spear suddenly gain an all new shine to it. Natural Spear Force erupted, every arc leaving crescent moon blades slicing through the air.
The canvas of white, silver and blacks left a trail through the battlefield. Every action Leonel took was taken with such speed that only these swath of colors were left behind. And, every swing of his blades left an indelible mark on the surroundings. Belongs to (N)ôvel/Drama.Org.
Therin lost the initiative and never regained it. Slicing arcs of blood travelled around and up his forearms, even his robes themselves being torn to tatters. He didn't even have the presence of mind to try and grasp how Leonel had even learn .
"AH!"
Therin roared in pain, humiliation and rage. He couldn't seem to get any leg up on Leonel. He was faster, smarter and stronger.
Every time Therin thought he could counter, he hit nothing but an illusion. Every time he was forced to clash head on, he was sent sprawling back. Every time he tried to maintain some distance to gain some breathing room, Leonel would already appear before him a moment later.
It was infuriating to an astounding degree.
Therin suddenly froze.
His head slowly turned to his right shoulder, only to find a vast emptiness. His arm twirled in the air, separated from the socket it should have been resting in and his sword barely clinging to the palm of it.
A sharp arc of pain rocked his senses when the familiar sensation was doubled with his left shoulder.
Before he could process what was happening, a foot was firmly planted into his chest, his body shooting backward as a trail of blood spurt out in his wake.
"Trash."
The word drifted to Therin's ears even in his half stunned state. It infuriated him so much that a third projectile of blood shot outward, this time from his mouth.
Leonel watched indifferently as Therin skidded along the ground, painting the picturesque scenery of the Luxnix family estate in crimson.
He simply couldn't understand why people as weak and inferior as Therin deemed themselves to be oh so great and important. When Therin went about his daily life, there were probably dozens, hundreds of people, even, that he would interact with that he could only greet humbly. And yet he came here to flaunt what, exactly?
Therin continued to cough up blood violently. He wanted nothing more than to tear Leonel limb from limb, but he had actually lost so thoroughly.
"Use the command token! Use it now!"
Therin's furious howl traveled through the air before dispersing into the clouds. The students of his department all put on shocked expressions before they scrambled to complete his order, each quickly pulling out a talisman.
…
At that moment, at a gate entrance different from the one Leonel and the others had entered, a convoy of men and women from the Viola family were making their presence known.
Rychard stood at the helm of the group.
"Please inform your elders that the Crown Heir of the Viola family has something to discuss with them."
Hearing these words, the guards didn't dare to dally and quickly left to do as they were told.
Within this convoy, there were many youthful faces. Among them, there were three young women Leonel would instantly recognize, one of whom was a woman he wasn't quite sure how to face just yet.