COME
Leonel didn't need to question anything else. Wouldn't doing so be questioning whether he was among the strong or not? There was no need to even consider it.
Over the next hour, he subdued the Rapax world and forcefully pulled them into his Segmented Cube.
Like this, he had the Dwarven Race, the Rapax Race, and the Spirituals Race.
Of course, he hadn't taken all of the Races. He only took them from one Mortal World. The rest of the Mortal Realm was still filled with other examples of these Races, but he had his hands full with these three worlds alone, let alone the others.
However, he was still content.
First, these worlds were the ones with the strongest potential to begin with. They had produced the most Gods in the past and had the best chance of producing the next wave of Demi-Gods.
Second, his resources were limited. He was already having a great deal of trouble dealing with the Morales alone. Thankfully, Anastasia had taken over the burden of resurrecting the Morales for him, but even she was having her own fair share of issues.
Of course, her "issues" still allowed her to be much faster than Leonel. In these last few days, she had already resurrected millions. Compared to the hundreds that Leonel could have managed in that time, she was clearly on an entirely different level.
Plus, he was less interested in numbers versus quality.
The main reason he took in the Rapax was because of Shadowclaw. And the main reason he took in the Dwarven Race was because of Lumielle.
On their own, these two would have likely become Gods in the future. At the very least, they would have formed Dharmas.
But now, he would make them true monsters. Their talent made them more than great enough to be among his Generals, especially Shadowclaw.
He hadn't observed the combat genius of the Dwarven Race enough, but he knew that Shadowclaw was particularly special. If he could reach his potential, he just might stand on the same level as Emna and Elorin.
Now, Leonel felt that he had the foundation he needed for the future.
The only question was…
Would he get the chance to solidify it before the other foot dropped?
**
The encampment was filled with the clang of weapons and the roar of warriors. The Third Imperial Prince stood in the middle of the battlefield, his green eyes glowing with a fiendish light as his golden hair danced in the air.
Large manifestations that looked like spiraling dragons wrapped around him. Every time he punched out, one would drill through a large number of enemies, leaving nothing but blood and bone in its wake.
Stronger members of the Four Great Families began to encircle him, but it was clear that they were no match for him alone.
"Just obediently bow down, Fawkes scum," a Brazinger laughed uproariously, his halberd screaming through the air with every swing.
Green and red flashed through the air.
The Third Imperial Prince didn't reply, his eyes focused and his killing aura dense.
The Four Great Families had suddenly inexplicably changed their tactics a few days ago.
The war had mostly entered a bit of a lull, but then they all of a sudden started sending out full assaults, catching them off guard.
On top of that, Nana's disappearance left a gap in their defenses, making it even easier for such a thing to happen.
However, the Third Imperial Prince was still scanning the region. There were nothing but ants surrounding him; he didn't even care to pay much attention to the taunts of the man in front of him. Under normal circumstances, this man wouldn't even have the right to speak to him.
The only reason he was even in this battle at all was the fact that his side looked like a beast had just taken an enormous bite out of it.
High in the skies, hidden in the darkness, a man with a fiendish golden aura and a bow stood. The fury between his brows was clear.
This man was an elder of the Laevis family. After their Heirloom had been stolen, how could he not be absolutely infuriated?
He had managed a sneak attack on the Third Imperial Prince, heavily injuring him. But the damned bastard refused to fall, and even worse, the senses of Fawkes elite warriors were too sharp. After the first sneak attack, he wasn't sure if he could—
PCHU!
The elder froze, slowly looking down at his chest.
When…
When had a hand appeared there…?
He turned back with the only strength he had left in his body. Content provided by .
The last sight he saw was a young man, handsome beyond words. His hair seemed a combination of wisps of energy and crystalline strands of violet, but his eyes… they carried such shocking depth to them that even though the elder was already dying, he still felt real fear, as though he wanted to use the final moments of his life to run…
Leonel Morales.
At that moment, the battlefield fell into silence as a man descended from the skies, the bleeding body of an expert on his arm.
Leonel looked down indifferently as the Laevis elder's corpse fell from his wrist and forearm, plummeting to the thick Anarchic Force waters below.
With a wave of his hand, a familiar bow appeared.
He had already noticed long ago that the Laevis Heirloom was missing its Weapon Spirit. However, even without it, it was a truly powerful weapon…
But who said that he had to continue to be without it?
"Come."
It was only a single word, but the skies seemed to split open because of it.
As he stretched out the bowstring, it seemed to be slowly coming to life until it shone with such a bright light that Leonel looked like a golden twelve-pointed star in the skies.
And then…
A rain of gold fell from above. The carnage was so devastating that the Four Great Families could only look up in despair.