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Fallen Apostle (A Gamelit Chessboard of Gods)
Fallen Apostle Volume Two Chapter Thirty-Five: Rardin Family (2)

Fallen Apostle Volume Two Chapter Thirty-Five: Rardin Family (2)

Leonidas unsheathed his saber.

It rose into the skies, a black chain dangling from its hilt as the sound of its clanging filled one with the ominous feeling of the depths of hell.

The entirety of Violet Waters was awakened by the commotion, but Leonidas didn’t care a single bit.

His saber glowed with the light of Mana Blade, his eyes still closed.

On the walk here, he had cast Tremor almost a half dozen times, accumulating the Mana he released all at once.

By this point, his radiant blue Mana was tinged in crimson, rising into the air until the blade alone was over 10 meters tall.

The dazzling scene made it feel as though a blood moon had appeared at the center of the noble region.

Leonidas’ eyes snapped open. All of his pent-up fury, all of his patient waiting and steady steps, accumulated to this point right here.

His arm swung downward, his Mana Blade flying out in a radiant assault even as the door to the estate swung open.

Unfortunately for that poor soul, his body was severed in two before he could react, the Mana Blade shooting through him as though he was nothing more than a thin sheet of paper. In fact, much to the horror of those that called the estate home, the stone, wood, and cement that had formed the roof over their heads all along was just as fragile.

The entire estate was sliced into two, the explosion of Leonidas’ Mana Blade wreaking havoc on its interior.

Anabel charged through the open doors of the estate, brandishing her greatsword with great fervor as she sliced apart those that had managed to survive Leonidas’ blade.

Barat reached to his back, the cloth covering his spear awakening like a flood dragon.

The crimson cloth spiraled around it as he grabbed its shaft, his body shooting forward despite its weakness to support Anabel.

Eve, though, remained to Leonidas' back, her hands clasped before her womb.

Her shimmering golden eyes gazed upon Leonidas’ back, waiting to see just what kind of miracles he had in store for today.

Leonidas’ roar had already shaken the whole of Violet Waters, let alone the Rardin residence it was aimed at. His Mana Blade only made the situation more volatile.

Knights and Paladins flooded in from all sides. It was clear that the Rardins had contingencies in place.

With how contentious things were in Violet Waters, and their being aware that their betrayal could be exposed at any moment, how could they not be ready for a sudden attack?

It was just that they were entirely unprepared for Leonidas to be capable of shattering their formations, thus giving them far less time to prepare.

Unfortunately for them, the only way to set up formations was through the use of Mana. Spirit and Breath could not accomplish it.

With Leonidas’ Mana being influenced by his War Cry talent, it was only a matter of a single roar to shatter these preparations. With Leonidas’ style of doing things, there was absolutely no way he wouldn’t come prepared.

Leonidas paused.

For a moment, it was as though none of the commotion around had anything to do with him.

The feelings swelling up in his chest had all suddenly been expelled through his War Cry, a quiet serenity taking form in his mind.

It was a magical sort of feeling that left Leonidas feeling as though he was gliding on a cloud.

‘Is this the true foundation War Cry was built upon?’

Ogres, or more specifically, the Giant Race they were at the very bottom of, were known for their hot tempers and low intelligence.

No matter how strong you were as a race, if your leaders only knew how to swing their swords and retaliate with blood, you wouldn’t last very long at all.

War Cry seemed like an ability used to intimidate and attack the psyche of enemies, but what was its root? Wasn’t it to apply a stronger mind to oppress a weaker one?

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This was exactly why War Cry was so much more effective on beasts than it was on humanoids.

Ultimately, War Cry was a Bloodline Talent capable of forcing the mind into a more physical and tangible form. And, as a byproduct, Leonidas had just learned that he was able to expel all useless thoughts and emotions, albeit for a short time.

To the hotblooded Giant Race, such a talent to counter their greatest weakness was invaluable.

Leonidas’ gaze looked toward the bisected estate. It still stood tall, but in Leonidas’ eyes, it was as fragile as rotting wood.

His Mana flowed smoother, his mind worked faster, his steps felt lighter.

Without even a breath to prepare himself he stepped forward, crossing the threshold of the Rardin estate with the chains of hell rattling behind him.

The moment he did, it was as though Leonidas had stepped out of a dream and into chaos.

The serene and quiet atmosphere shattered, the clear sounds of battle rattling his sensitive eardrums.

Blades clashed, screams resounded, and even the splash of blood coating the lush floor, carpets and walls echoed with presences of their own.

Leonidas’ five senses felt heightened, even his sixth, Mana Sense, had expanded by an extra half meter from its original five-meter radius.

With a thought, the Mana he had allowed to self-destruct whirled back toward him, pulled under the might of his Mana Sense.

Stretching out his free hand, over a dozen smaller Mana Blades formed in the air, their bodies no longer carrying a red tinge but rather remaining a beautiful, radiant blue.

Their light was the brightest in the darkness of this dusk, but to Leonidas’ enemies, they were anything but beautiful.

The Mana Blades spun under Leonidas’ control.

As he slowly walked forward and into the grand hall of the Rardin estate, anyone who entered within five and a half meters of him found their heads spinning through the air.

The might of a Mage was on full display. Despite having a saber in one hand, Leonidas didn’t swing it even a single time.

Knights fell one after another, their eyes opened wide in despair. The gap was so large that they didn’t even get a chance to fight back.

Leonidas’ steps were slow and unhurried.

He followed the blade fissure his Mana Blade had caused as though it was a bloody road meant for no one other than himself.

Up ahead, Anabel found herself embroiled in a fight, facing two Paladins.

The Paladins found themselves easily frustrated, their heavy attacks seemingly doing nothing to a petite young woman half their size.

Anabel moved her greatsword with the dexterity of a light sword. Her lessons with Eve all came together at once, her enemy losing their footing as she pulled her sword away like a chair, slicing into their neck in one fluid motion.

The second Paladin took advantage of Anabel’s strike to levy an attack of their own, but the result felt like throwing a rock into a vast ocean.

Anabel shrugged off the blade with her shoulder pauldron, pivoting her body and using the gathered moment to draw her blade across another throat.

Barat had performed better than one might expect judging by his frail frame, but he was still far from being capable of facing a Paladin.

He stood and faced every Knight he came across, his spear piercing forward just once to reap a life.

The weapon in his hand felt alive, its body moving with the flexibility of a snake but the ferocity of a dragon.

One could almost feel the artistic conception of his battle style manifest into a real form. It was clear at a glance why he had been so talented in his youth.

Corpses littered the ground, the thick scent of blood overwhelming the senses.

Leonidas stopped about a third of the way through the grand hall, his actions making Barat and Anabel retreat, their chests heaving for breath.

Eve, who was still following closely to Leonidas’ back, mumbled beneath her breath and a strong gold light touched them both.

Level 1 Blessing, Second Wind.

Barat and Anabel’s backs stood far straighter, their bodies filling back up with vitality.

BANG!

Right then, the doors on the opposite side of the grand hall nearly flew off their hinges. An elite cohort of Paladins and Apostles rushed forward, only for their faces to be warped by the sight they saw.

Because Leonidas had been so quick in shattering their protective formations, the time they would usually have to prepare was cut to almost nothing.

Having lost this time, they ended up also suffering the loss of dozens of Knights and several Paladins.

“APOSTLE LEONIDAS!”

Averit and Oudin were no longer calm and composed. Despite the fact the two hid behind almost two dozen Level 3 Paladins and two Apostles, they sure yelled as though they would charge forward themselves any time now.

Among the two Apostles, there was Maw, whose eye had been blinded, and Benet, whose gaze almost made the air freeze over.

Milon was nowhere to be seen, but this only made sense. After all, without his second arm, he wasn’t a very useful archer.

However, even with all these powerhouses before him, Leonidas only had eyes for a seemingly inconspicuous Level 3 Paladin, Balian.

This was the very same man that had once made Leonidas feel an overwhelming sense of danger as he sat by House Lady Beccerth’s side.

His absence on the night Beccerth died had been a thorn in Leonidas’ side that he ignored, only because he was far more interested in squeezing information about his mother out.

The Rardins all looked toward Leonidas with endless hatred in their eyes, especially Maw who clutched a new Level 3 weapon.

“Apostle Leonidas, what is the meaning of this? You would disregard the rules of Her Holiness Yves so flippantly?”

Averit calmed his rage, realizing that there was something wrong with this situation. Leonidas wouldn’t be stupid enough to do this right?

However, rather than receiving a response, Leonidas’ free palm squeezed shut.

The dozens of Mana Blades shattered into motes of light before a Mana Circuit took root in Leonidas’ irises, a complex wheel of lines and runes radiating a gorgeous blue.

The air quaked and the faint line of an enormous palm began to form in the air.

The foundation of the estate shook, wild winds blowing in and out as the concentration of Mana continuously rose.

“I didn’t come here today to talk.”

Leonidas’ voice rumbled, its usual baritone falling yet another octave.

Apostle Benet’s gaze sharped, his hands flashing as he unsheathed a twin pair of daggers in quick succession.

“I came here to kill.”