- Crest
Leonel wasn't very surprised when he was led to the manor he saw in the distance previously. However, he still couldn't help but watch as the streets became cleaner, more well paved, better kempt…
It was as though he was slowly traveling into a new world, step by step.
The houses grew larger, more elaborate. Guards began to show their presence more and more often. The number of luxuries seemed to skyrocket with every street he passed by.
The most common marker of this wealth was weight. Overweight women and men seemed to be everywhere, chatting idly, drinking things the poor could never get and spitting out food the poor could never taste.
Then, there was the holy grail of them all.
The manor was four stories tall and just its front face was 50 meters long from end to end. At its doors, true guards stood, wearing the same armor as the fat man by Leonel's side. Except, these guards were actually powerful, powerful enough that Leonel's patience fell by another measure the more of them he saw.
Where were these strong warriors when they fought that battle? Where had this equipment and armor they wore been? It can't be that they stood here this entire time to protect a manor that was dozens of miles from the battlefield… right?
"His Lordship has requested The General's presence." The fat man spoke to the guards.
Seemingly recognizing this man's identity, even some of the guards gave him looks of disdain. But, toward these kind of people, Leonel didn't particularly care if they sided with him or not. Ultimately, were they not here while men much weaker than them, far less trained, and far less fed fought in their stead?
Who were they to feel disdain toward anybody?
Leonel's emotions fluctuated slightly. The moment his foot reached the top step, the marble cracked and splintered. But, he continued walking as though nothing had happened, passing by the guards without a greeting.
Long after his back had disappeared into the manner -- the fat, armored man forgetting to follow -- the cold sweat that covered the backs of the guards could practically form a pool.
…
The inside of the manor was as luxurious as one might expect. But, each and every item Leonel laid eyes on cause his mind to flash to another under nourished soldier, another poor steed they were forced to ride, another blunt sword they were forced to swing… another weeping family member that was forced to grieve.
Leonel didn't need anyone to guide him. With his Internal Sight, the entire layout of the manor had already been reflected in his mind.
With large strides, he pushed open two large wooden double doors to be greeted by an elaborate feast. If there was ever an incarnation of gluttony, Leonel felt that he had found it.
Just for the sake of feeding what amounted to just eight people, there were numerous large bird and beasts, endless piles of fruit, two cakes that were at least a meter tall each, pitchers of juice that could all fill their own table… The spread was practically endless, each dish having an assigned servant of their own.
Leonel could tell at a glance by the speed and pace these eight men and women ate their food with that it would be impossible for them to finish it all.
Of the food they tasted, large amounts of meat remained on the bone, sandwiches lay with a bite or two taken out of them, juice cups were swapped between with the nourishing fluids within having been forgotten…
Every detail Leonel laid his eyes on made his expression calmer and calmer. Eventually, he became so placid that he didn't even seem to exist anymore. As a result, no one seemed to notice he was here for several long seconds, allowing him the time he needed to thoroughly imprint everything he saw into his memory.
"Ah, General. I'm quite disappointed."
One of the eight men began to speak, a half finished chicken leg still being worked on by him.
"Though you won this battle, I am not a very patient man. Not only was there no report of spoils given to me, my own General didn't appear and made we wait over an hour before I was forced to send an attendee to retrieve him.
"What do you think a Lord like me is to do with such disobedient subordinates?"
Leonel didn't respond as he stood at the doorway.
"Hm?"
The Lord looked up from his food to see Leonel wasn't even looking at him. Rather, Leonel was looking up at a crest that hung from the wall.
It was quite beautiful, truly.
At the forefront, there was a silver shield with the image of a roaring lion etched onto it. To its back, there were two spears crossed, exuding a valiant aura of dominance.
Across the bottom, a fluttering ribbon of words written in an odd, ancient language with rune-like lettering could be found. Yet, Leonel somehow understood what it said perfectly.
'The Valiance of a Warrior. The Heart of a Protector.'
The words seemed to resonate with Leonel. But, he only felt more and more disgusted when he realized it was painted onto the wall of a person who couldn't understand its meaning.
Or maybe he did understand it… And simply didn't care.
"Boy! Did you not hear the words of His Lordship?! Have you nothing to--?!"
The shrill voice of an obese women was cut short by Leonel's spear in her throat.
The sound of a struggling gurgle brought the place to a halting silence before the screams of the attendees suddenly sounded through the hall.
The guards manning the walls suddenly sprung into action, leaping for Leonel. But, they were dispatched with just as much ease, the last gaze they had of the world being those sharp, cold eyes.
Leonel killed the gluttons one by one. In what felt like just a few seconds, he stood before the Lord.
Grabbing his fat neck, Leonel raised him up from his seat.
Foul smells began to waft off of the Lord. One part came from his poor hygiene, but the others definitely came from him soiling himself. holds © this.
"Y… You can't kill me! I was appointed by His Majesty himself! AGH!"
Leonel's spear shot through his heart.
He watched on coldly as the Lord slowly bled out, his gaze becoming more chilling with each passing moment.