The clearing left behind by Leonidas raged with red flames, a deep crater left behind by the initial explosion and a new ring of scorched trees clearing away a path for the still-rising smoke.
Under some mysterious power, these flames didn’t last forever. After clearing an extra line of trees, it seemed to become suffocated and soon it extinguished, leaving a ring of smoke, ash and blackness where it had once been.
This was the mysterious strength of nature. Whether it was beasts, herbs or environments, they could be naturally born with Blessings whereas humanoid and intelligent creatures needed to rely on Gods to receive the same strength. It was under this enigmatic power that the fires calmed and allowed those who reached the scene next to find nothing more than a mass of heat before them.
There were three individuals, among them, Leonidas would have most definitely recognized two of them. The first was a man of robust stature, Benet Rardin. He was one of the Apostles Leonidas had met that day and shared a relationship with the two Rardins that had been greatly hostile to him. The second was among those two, Milon Rardin. As for the final individual, they hadn’t had the privilege of sitting amongst apostles. They were a Paladin of the Rardin family, Emery Creed.
“He’s already left? The path’s gone dark, the fluctuations here are too strong to keep tracking him the normal way.” Benet spoke after a moment.
“You think he did this on purpose?” Milon asked.
“If he knew about our tracking him earlier, why wouldn’t he have gotten rid of it sooner? Because we know where he’s coming from, Zirel shouldn’t have a problem intercepting him on the way back. It looks like a coincidence. He probably used his Mana to boost a Blast Potion as a last-ditch effort. Judging by the location, this was probably an herb retrieval mission and he ended up facing a beast that was too much to handle.”
“So the idiot is probably severely injured right now.”
It wasn’t a surprise that the Apostles looked down on Leonidas. The Paladins and Knights didn’t dare to say anything overt about an Apostle for fear of a God’s wrath, but Apostles didn’t have such superstitions. Ever since they learned Leonidas had chosen to become a Mage, he was no longer deemed as a threat. Plus, they had it on good authority that Leonidas couldn’t even defeat his Knight whore in battle, there was even less to consider, then.
Still, no one knew how Leonidas of all people managed to become an Apostle. In addition, they were also in the dark about what kind of special privileges Leonidas gained for sharing Goddess Yves’ race. So, they still sent out two Apostles and two Paladins to deal with just a single fool.
Benet nodded to Milon’s words, taking a step into the scorched clearing and looking around.
“Detection.”
Benet spoke softly, a steady stream of Breath entering his gaze.
Upon promotion from the Level 3 Missionary to Level 4 Deacon, Fighters would gain a new array of Classes to choose from just like Mages, though lesser in amount. Ignoring potential special classes, there were four main potential paths. Warrior, Swordsman, Thief and Ranger. Depending on which path one was angling for, they would choose their Blessings as the Fighter Class leveled accordingly.
Detection was a sensory-type Fighter ability that granted sharper sight, the ability to see residual Breath, Mana and Spirit, and also worked well in dim light. This was a commonly chosen Level 1 Blessing for Fighters planning on becoming Thieves upon promotion.
“Hm? This little bastard…”
Benet’s brows shot up, shocked by what he saw.
“What is it?”
“There’s not an ounce of Mana in this place, but there are large fluctuations of a volatile Breath in the surroundings.”
Both Milon and even the silent Emery froze.
“He’s been hiding his strength. He lied to us. He’s not a Mage at all, he’s a Fighter. Not only is he a Fighter, but he’s a Fighter with a Technique Blessing capable of projecting his Breath! That must have been a perk he received for being a Half-Beast!”
Milon was furious. They had spent months calling Leonidas a fool behind his back, only to find out that he had been leading them by the nose all this time. What better way was there to make them underestimate him than this?
“That Bruthers son of a bitch should have known as well. The Head of a Sub-Shrine can check the Class distribution of their Church whenever they want. He purposely let us be fooled!”
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Milon’s fist slammed against a tree, shattering the ash-black outer bark.
“Milon, there’s no need to be so angry. Who cares if he hid his Class? This region of the forest won’t have Blessed Beasts above Level 3. Let’s say that he was unlucky enough to run into such a beast and had to pull out all the stops and barely managed to escape heavily injured…. So what?
“Not only is he likely on his last legs, do we have to fear someone who had to resort to such measures against a dumb beast? Our Rardin family don’t even fear Deacon Bruthers, why should we fear a scuttling rat with a whore for a mother?”
Milon’s expression twisted into a grin, stepping into the deep crater left behind by the explosion.
“… You’re right.” He nodded. “Emery, contact Zirel and inform him of the situation. Tell him not to kill the brat immediately, and keep that woman alive as well. We need him to find out if Deacon Bruthers contacted him previously, he could be a useful card to play. Plus, we need to make sure he dies on our terms so that no one else can just casually sweep up the open position. As for the woman, the Siris family isn't a pawn I’m willing to let go of just yet.”
“Yes, Lord!”
***
Zirel’s gaze regained his focus, the message ringing loud in his mind. When it all sunk in, his lip curled.
Some fools believed that the separation between Apostles and Paladins was as enormous as the separation between Paladins and Knights, but this was inherently untrue. Even if Leonidas was no longer a useless mage, Zirel didn’t fear him.
A large part of the reason the Rardin family could match the Bruthers was because of their wealth, yes, but it was more accurately what their wealth translated to. Because the Rardin could accumulate Blessings so much faster than everyone else, they could raise a lot of Paladins. This offset the imbalance a single Deacon Bruthers brought about, forcing that family to be cautious.
The only real separation between Paladins and Apostles was that Paladins couldn’t gain special Classes and were always forced into the Fighter category. In addition, Paladins couldn’t earn Blessings for themselves, they could only do so for their Apostle. It was then the prerogative of the Apostle on how to distribute these Blessings.
There was no shortage of Paladins that wielded extraordinary power and one that was raised properly could become a fighting force no weaker than their own Apostle. In fact, if the abilities were properly tailored, the result could be greater than the individual sum of the parts.
This was all to say that when faced with the prospect of battling an Apostle, Zirel, who was himself a Level 2 Paladin, was greatly excited rather than put off. And, when he saw the state of Leonidas in the distance and the horrid gash across his chest, he only grew more so. He didn’t even pause to think that such an injury wasn’t consistent with the information his fellow Paladin had given him.
“Your Lordship!” Anabel seemed to be the first to react.
“I see him,” Leonidas replied plainly.
The three were separated by about a 300-meter stretch of dirt road. The forest had already turned scarce and between here and Violet Water village there was nothing but an alternating landscape of sheer cliffs and stone beaches.
By now, the dimming light of the sun was no longer a visual effect of a thick canopy above but was rather the dance of dusk and the distant mountains the sun set behind.
Zirel slowly unsheathed his longsword, not bothering to speak any words as he hopped onto his horse, kicking it into a mad gallop forward.
‘Power! Double Blade!’
Strong fluctuations of Breath danced within Zirel’s body.
“Fall back and follow me in a straight line,” Leonidas said calmly. “Don’t deviate left or right or else I won’t overextend myself to protect you.”
Anabel didn’t say a word and did as she was told. At the same time, Leonidas slowly reached back, his hand finding the hilt of a familiar saw-like sword. Though he wasn’t familiar with the weapon, it was the strongest he had. And… he only needed it for one strike.
The blade began to vibrate, a vibrant blue concentrating more and more along its surface.
Anabel, who could see this view clearly from Leonidas’ back as her steed galloped along, had eyes opened wide in shock. She had never felt such a dense concentration of energy, just how large was Leonidas’ Mana Pool and what Technique Blessing was this?!
Beneath the dimming lights of dusk, the enormous blade to Leonidas’ back suddenly became like a shimmering moon of its own. Unfortunately for Zirel, he couldn’t see it clearly. Leonidas had cleverly hidden it behind his tail.
200 meters… 100 meters… 50 meters…
The distance was close enough that Leonidas could see into Zirel’s eyes, he could see the sneer hidden within, he could see the strength of his forearms as he tightened his grip on his sword, he could even see the slight fluctuations in the air as Zirel’s Blessings took effect.
40 meters…. 30 meters… 20 meters…
Zirel rose his sword high in the air, his chest expanding as he took in a deep breath.
“KYA!”
He urged his horse forward just as Leonidas finally pulled the saw blade from his back, allowing it to extend to his side, angled toward the ground.
The reaction was immediate. The pulsing blue light concentrated until it became a solid blade of its own. It shimmered like a gorgeous gem, so resplendent and without blemish that it made Zirel’s heart skip a beat.
‘Is that the Technique Blessing Emery mentioned? No…’
Zirel felt that something was wrong. His instincts, honed over years, were screaming at him. But it was already too late.
Leonidas’ sword dipped into the ground, slicing it apart as though it was nothing more than air. The Mana Blade was so sharp that his horse wasn’t slowed in the slightest, the glowing blade becoming all Zirel could focus on. And then…
He swung upward.
The crescent moon of the blade was a beautiful scene to see. It separated from the saw blade, jetting forward in a perfect semi-circle that sparkled like stars.
With the crashing waves of the ocean as its backdrop, it only looked all the more gorgeous. This was the only consolation Zirel could hold onto in his final moments.
‘He’s… not a fighter… He’s… He’s a Mage…’
The Mana Blade tore through the horse and man like a heated knife through butter. By the time Leonidas and Anabel galloped through, the pair split down the middle to form a path for them. Neither stopped for even a moment, blasting through without a care.
Now wasn’t the time to pause, even though there were treasures to be had. Leonidas only had one thought in mind: return to Violet Waters. He was so focused on this thought that he didn’t even notice how much Anabel’s gaze toward his back had changed.