CHAPTER 3208 A FATHER'S FURY (3)
The hours ticked by and Ger'Ain and Vaelin had begun to frown themselves.
They didn't care about their armies. Quite frankly, they only had them to stop others from taking advantage of them. In truth, they understood that the true purpose of the trial was to strengthen themselves; they just hadn't had much time to do it yet as it had only been a handful of months.
However, they also didn't want to lose them all.
Leonel just seemed relentless, and every time they thought he would fall, he dug deeper.
What they also hadn't forgotten was that Leonel should have an army of his own. They could see them on the city walls and they weren't bad themselves.
Even though they were definitely weaker than their own army, and the numbers were inferior as well, it would at least do something to help. But...
The more they watched Leonel, the more they felt a fear creep into their hearts.
He was just a small human, less than half their size, and yet he looked like a mountain looming in the distance.
There was nothing flashy about his attacks at all, and yet he took each individual down with ruthless efficiency. And because he wasn't moving much, as the corpses piled on around him, his kills only became easier because their armies had to climb over their companions on uneven footing just to make it to Leonel in the first place. In the end, they even had to start diverting some of their manpower just to move the corpses out of the way, but that dampened morale and only put them at more risk of being killed.
Stable.
That was the one word that they could use to describe Leonel... it felt like no matter what happened, he would be a stable mountain standing in their way, never allowing them to gain a single advantage on him.
After his outburst about being a King, Vaclin was certain that he would find a chance to deal a death blow to Leonel, only to realize that somehow that outburst and that outpouring of fury had somehow only made Leonel even-keeled.
It was like all his fury had been channeled into his spear, making it heavier, sharper, faster, more controlled.
Every stroke elevated showed an improvement to his power, which made little sense because with every stroke, he lost more blood and should have only been becoming weaker.
The anxiety in the hearts of the two men only seemed to be growing and they wanted to step in, but they couldn't....
One part because of pride...
Another part due to something that they couldn't put into words.
It was almost as though they wanted to see if it was really possible for a man with nothing left to give could actually make it to the end of the road.
And what shook them all the more was that Leonel didn't seem to spare them a single thought or glance. It was almost like they were just another one of the numbers he was facing.
Who cared if it was 1000 enemies or 1001? Who cared if it was 2000 or 2002?
They were all the same.
Threats.
Threats he would cut down.
CHII! CHII! CHII!
The breath coming out from Leonel's mouth became so hot that it formed tendrils of smoke that curled out from the corners of his mouth, spiraling into the air in plumes of grey.
It carried a crimson tinge to it as though his blood was being vaporized itself, but the weaker he looked, the stronger his spear became.
It seemed like his blade was no longer being propelled by his body alone. Ilis limbs, the torque of his torso and the twist of his hips were nothing more than a secondary afterthought.
Maybe it was a trick of the light, but the Sylvan and Pluto even felt like there was an eerie light that was slowly coming out from the blade as well, almost as though it was also overtaxed and expelling its own steam in fatigue and overheating.
CHII! CHII! CHII!
Aina sat on her rocking chair, rubbing her belly and singing a small tune. The happiness on her face was practically palpable. She had a rosiness and life to her that could probably only be experienced by a woman who could feel every aspect of the little one's life growing within her.
Her voice was truly beautiful. If anyone other than her child could hear her, it would have brought birds descending from the skies and deer walking out of forests.
She laughed to herself at the thought. Leonel definitely would have gotten a kick out of that. Maybe he would even start calling her Snow White as an inside joke between themselves.
No. He wouldn't pick a nickname like that. He would definitely go with Bambi instead.
"Your father's brain works in mysterious ways," Aina said softly.
She felt a strong kick and her smile deepened.
It seemed that it was about time now...
Aina stood slowly, supporting her belly with one hand. But before she could even make it to the door, a familiar middle-aged woman burst through, carrying a large array of
boxes.
Aina was a bit speechless but could only laugh as Elain shouted out orders to her sons to get everything sorted and then kicked them all out again.
Soon, Aina felt that she was surrounded by love. Elaine and her sons' wives all helped her into a tub.
Honestly, Aina had been planning on doing this on her own. She didn't think that it would be a big deal.All text © NôvelD(r)a'ma.Org.
But then again... her original plans were to give birth with her full array of powers. She didn't expect to be suddenly suppressed like she was now, forced to face this event with a Third Dimensional body.
That made things quite dangerous because their child was not normal.
Aina had not only picked the best of her eggs, she had even matched it with the most compatible of Leonel's seeds. Then, she spent years nurturing their child with all of her Life Force and Dream Force.
Their child's body had originally been that of a Spiritual's, but Aina had constructed their body personally...
But there was a reason Spirituals were born as souls and only constructed their bodies afterward.
These were all reasons that this was far from the usual sort of birth. However, Aina
regretted nothing.
This life... she wanted it.
She would hold on for the sake of her husband fighting outside, for the sake of the
child in her belly, for her own sake...
She would birth this new little Morales no matter what.
...
Leonel grabbed onto a sword jetting out from his abdomen. He squeezed down, the blade puncturing his skin. But he still ripped it out violently, swinging his spear at the
man and sending his head flying into the skies.
Leonel coughed, mere droplets of blood coming out of him at this point.
Most of his body had gone from pale to a greyish blue as though it had been completely drained of all the blood it had left. The fact he was still on his feet at all was
a miracle.
He took a step forward, his spear dancing.
He slashed across the Achilles tendon of one man, driving the butt of his spear into his
nose as he fell to a knee.
The man couldn't control his body folding backward in the slightest and could only watch as Leonel's spear shot through his throat.
Leonel stabbed the spear further down, feeling for the sensation of the blade going through the earth before leaping upward. He used his spear as a pivot point to spin around quickly, then hid behind its body to block a blow that had come from his back. The spear of the enemy clanged against his own, rebounding back even faster than it
came.
Leonel ripped his spear up and out of the ground, taking advantage of the man's off-balance form to skewer him through the heart.
He stood in the middle of a battlefield littered with corpses, looking around for a new enemy, only to realize that there was none.
He sent a glance toward the city, feeling that something on the inside was changing. He didn't need to think much to know what it was at all...
Raising a blood-caked hand to his face, he adjusted his glasses, looking toward the
Sylvan and Pluto.
By now, he had run through their entire armies, leaving them just five meters from him. Neither had moved a muscle even up until he killed the very last of them.
As for why that was...
Leonel didn't care. The answer wouldn't make a single ounce of difference to him, and
what was in their hearts was irrelevant to him.
Standing there at half their height, he somehow still seemed taller than the both of
them.
Slowly, he raised his spear to face them.
CRACK. CRI! CRI! Leonel looked down at his spear to find that the blade had finally given way.
A mournful cry filled the air as the lament of the blade echoed. Leonel could feel its
sadness...
This normal blade had truly wanted to fight to the end with him, if for no other reason than to witness this final ride.
"Is that what you want...?" Leonel asked, looking at the cracked blade. "... Okay, then
we will do this together..."
The blade never mattered...
Leonel raised his spear higher as the cracked end of the spear fell off.
... Not so long as he could guide his blade with his heart.
SHUUUUUUU!