It wasn’t just him, many others looked toward Leonidas looking for answers.
The earth had already begun to rumble, a cloud of dust looming in the distance as a troop of Lower Ogres charged. Not many could see their forms now, but they could already feel them.
“… Why? We need as much support as we can get. The Siris family still has about a fifth of the Knights of our small town.”
Jowell tried to keep a smile on his face, not wanting to antagonize Leonidas too much especially with his change in status.
He wasn’t a fool. He knew that it had suddenly become much harder to coax their aunt into returning. However, likewise, the value of doing so had more than doubled.
Everyone had thought that Leonidas was a fool for choosing to become a Mage. But, since then, he had defeated a Level 3 veteran like Maw handily. It was clear that Mages lived up to their names and stature.
To have a Mage and a Healer join their family was invaluable.
The response Jowell and the others got from Leonidas, though, was unlike anything they could have expected.
The usually calm and dull-faced Leonidas grinned, a fiendish sort of aura rolling off of him in waves.
His tail rose into the air, his hair growing in volume and becoming thicker than even his back.
His irises seemed far more crimson and within the depths of their pupils, a thick flash of blue Mana rippled about.
Jowell felt his heart leap into his throat, his blood running cold. The commoners around them almost fell to their knees and several other Apostles looked toward Leonidas with apprehension evident in their eyes.
“Why?” Leonidas’ baritone voice rumbled, overshadowing even the charging Lower Ogres as he turned away from Jowell, stepping past the front line. “Because if there are too many warriors here, my blades won’t be able to sate their thirst for blood.”
The line of Lower Ogres was clear now.
To the shock of the commoners and even the frowning Deacon Bruthers, they rode upon large wolves. Although they weren’t quite Blessed Beasts, the strength and robustness of their bodies far surpassed any cavalry Violet Waters might be able to prepare.
If they tried to charge with their horses now, the animals would lose themselves to fear before even approaching within a hundred meters.
Several commoners fell to their knees, horror stricken upon their faces.
The last time the Lower Ogres had attacked, they hadn’t come with such beasts. Part of the reason the humans could repel them at all was that the stupid Lower Ogres had charged all the way over on foot, making them tired and fatigued by the time the battle started.
Now, it felt as though they were watching hope crumble before their eyes.
Anabel and Lady Eve frowned, watching as Leonidas continued to walk further and further ahead of the front line.
He had told them both to just stand behind him. He didn’t want either one of them fighting in this battle, they were only here to spectate. But, no matter how you looked at it, his words were like that of a madman.
Anabel, especially, couldn’t understand why Leonidas wouldn’t let her fight. She was more than ready, did he not want to prove her usefulness?
However, Leonidas didn’t seem to hear any of it at all.
500 meters.
The rumbling of the earth increased.
400 meters.
The heft of each pair of wolf and ogre was all too clear, the paws of the former leaving deep imprints on the ground with each stride.
300 meters.
They could all count the number now. There were just 50 Lower Ogres, it could be said that there was almost four times the number of humans waiting to face them. And yet, the latter lacked the confidence that came with such an advantage.
With each Lower Ogre outfitted with a wolf that could just as easily tear them apart, and the strength of an ogre to begin with, they all knew the likely outcome.
200 meters.
“Archers,” Deacon Bruthers’ command boomed.
A row of shaking commoners, trained Knights, and a few specialist Paladins drew their bows. The quality difference across the wall was massive, but this was all they had to make do with.
150 meters.
Leonidas’ eyes closed, the peaceful thrumming of his heart setting his rhythm as he reached toward his back, slowly unsheathing his sabers.
100 meters.
Leonidas’ hair practically rose from his back, his sabers releasing the sounds of blades sharpening as a coat of radiant blue coated their black bodies.
75 meters.
Leonidas’ eyes flashed wide open, a brilliant light shooting out from them.
The stench of ogres and the wet fur of wolves assaulted his senses. The cool wind of the late afternoon licked against his skin, making the goosebumps that covered him from head to toe all the more prominent.
Scholar’s Mind bloomed in full force, slowing the image of everything down as he took a strong step forward.
Maybe it was an illusion, but his singular stomp seemed to drown out all other sounds, making it feel as though he had become the center of the battlefield and in practice…
He truly was.
Leonidas’ mouth open, his canines shining proudly and two rows of white, glistening teeth baring forth with menace and malice.
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His chest expanded, his throat vibrating and his ribcage rattling as he released a bestial roar.
The air before him seemed to distort.
Any illusions of all sound being drowned out became a stark reality.
Leonidas’ roar was no different from a howling beast’s. However, it was no normal howling beast, it was the king of a jungle, the ruler of a mountain range, the emperor of the sky.
The hearts of the ogres trembled, but something within the wolves especially snapped.
A primal sort of instinctual fear took over their minds.
Their yellow eyes locked onto Leonidas’ crimson pair. In those moments, Leonidas seemed as tall as the skies, as sturdy as the earth, as insurmountable as a mountain.
They yelped, their bodies seizing up and several even beginning to foam at the mouth.
The line of charging beasts collapsed, tripping and rolling over themselves in a sight that left those of Violet Waters completely stunned.
However, before they could even register what had happened, Leonidas had already exploded forth.
The line of wolves had tumbled 50 meters ahead. By the time they rolled into a harsh heap, Leonidas only had 20 meters to cross, an unprepared troop of ogres lying ripe for the slaughter.
His teeth bared, a bloodthirsty aura wrapping around him.
The beating of his heart revved to a new gear, his body seeming far more capable of withstanding Berserk than it had been in the past.
And then, he entered the fray.
His sabers danced, cutting off a limb or head with every swing.
The wolves were lambs to the slaughter. The Lower Ogres, however, managed to recover quickly, scrambling to prepare themselves for battle.
Unfortunately, many found themselves pinned beneath their heavy cavalry units, others had found themselves heavily injured by the pileup, and even those who were relatively alright found it difficult to reach Leonidas through the commotion.
Leonidas’ every movement was effortless.
His Mana Blades glided through the tough fur and skin it met as though sliding through butter. However, the most magical feeling was the projection of Mana Sense and the feeling that he had everything balancing on the palm of his hand.
His tail whipped out behind him, smashing the head of an ogre trapped beneath its wolf and bouncing its skull against the hard ground.
His head never turned back, his right saber severing the leg of a charging ogre.
He stepped past, a spurt of blood raining down as his left saber cut into the shoulder of another ogre, slicing across and exiting out its opposite hip.
Leonidas turned before the second ogre even collapsed, just in time to see the ogre that had lost a leg falling atop the concussed ogre.
He drove his saber down with a fiendish look in his eye, piercing it through the first ogre’s chest and the concussed ogre’s head.
His tail lashed out again, blocking a heavy wooden club that swung for his head. The CLANG of metal resonated, Leonidas’ tail being knocked to the side.
Still, the delay was just enough for Leonidas to turn once again, both his sabers following the momentum of his body to slice across the large green belly of the enraged ogre.
Blood was drawn out like a waterfall, pieces of flesh and intestine bringing the green monster to its knees.
Leonidas crossed his blades in an execution style, pulling them apart and gaining himself another head.
It spun into the air before plopping down with a dull thud, far lighter than the life it had once carried.
The slaughter was explosive. Leonidas made it to the end of the lines of Lower Ogres and wolves before many even registered just what they were witnessing.
Blood couldn’t seem to stick to Leonidas’ blades, gliding down their glistening blue bodies as though he couldn’t be stained.
His body and robes, however, were a different matter entirely.
Violet droplets coated his clothes, his hair, and even his handsome features. But, he didn’t seem to care in the slightest, his gaze focused on the distance.
“FIRE!”
Leonidas continued to gaze into the distance as Deacon Bruthers levied his command. He knew full well that these batch of troops were merely Knights, how could they stack up to a Level 3 Apostle like Leonidas? They didn’t even have the weapons or armor necessary to block his blades properly.
The real challenge was the Paladins and Apostles. But…
Where were they?
The heavy thump of arrows fell to Leonidas’ back.
His tail whipped out once, slapping away any errant arrows that would have fallen on him.
Without a word, he turned back, ignoring the ogres that began to retreat. They all seemed to give him wide berth, his walk to the gates not being nearly as eventful as it should have been.
The weight of Leonidas’ presence seemed to carry with it a different sort of heft at that moment.
Unbeknownst to him, there was a particular man in the crowd who knew of him quite well, the very same well-off man that had bought Leonidas’ first love from the brothel that day all those years ago.
In fact, it could be said that of the men here, considering how small the town was, many could recognize Leonidas. Or, rather, couldn’t…
The Leonidas they had known was nothing like this. The boy they had known was Fox. As for the man he had become, they only witnessed it today.
At that moment, just when Leonidas had entered a no man’s land, a harsh whistling cut through the air.
Leonidas’ dull expression shifted, his body spinning back as he crossed his blades over his chest.
BANG!
A rusted bronze ax collided with Leonidas’ Mana Blades, and yet it showed no sign of chipping, pressing against Leonidas hard as though it wouldn’t relent until he was sliced in half.
Leonidas’ muscles bulged, his tail pressing firmly into the ground behind him even as he slid backward.
The ax’s blade bore down on his forehead, inching forward like it had a mind of its own.
Leonidas’ pupils couldn’t help but constrict. He couldn’t even see the person that had thrown this ax, so it had occurred beneath either some sort of concealment, or it had occurred several hundred meters away.
And yet, despite these constraints, it still had so much strength behind it?!
On the wall, Milon’s expression changed as well. He had just been sulking about Leonidas’ display, feeling enraged that he couldn’t do anything. But the situation had changed faster than anyone could have expected.
What was shocking was that Leonidas had managed to react to it at all, because even he, with the eyes of an archer, hadn’t even detected it until the sound of clashing blades rang in his ears.
“I will help!” He shouted out, almost afraid someone wouldn’t understand his intention.
He brandished his bow, nocking an arrow with speed.
“Burst!”
Before anyone could react, Milon had Blessed his arrow, infusing it with Breath and releasing it.
Milon’s acting couldn’t even pass muster for a cheap street act, let alone come off as genuine.
His arrow seemed to have been aimed at just the right angle to pass by Leonidas’ neck and knock the ax to the side. But he had “barely missed”. If things continued like this, the arrow would slice apart Leonidas’ throat enough that a Healer wouldn’t be able to do anything.
Plus, even if a Healer could do something, couldn’t Averit and Oudin just pretend they were helpless?
The best part was that even if Leonidas blocked the arrow with his tail like he had managed to do before, the result this time wouldn’t be as simple as missing a chance to kill Maw. This time, there would be a rusted bronze ax ready to take his life.
It was all perfect, too perfect. In fact, Milon hoped that Leonidas would use his tail to block this time, that was why he had shouted out. That way, if Leonidas died due to his own actions, it would be even more impossible to blame him.
What Milon hadn’t accounted for, though, was the fact that Leonidas’ Mana Sense wasn’t just in the middle of awakening now, it was in full bloom.
Leonidas’ head visibly tilted to the side, his tail shifting to compensate and his arms raising slightly.
CLANG!
Milon’s arrow crashed into the rusted ax with the power of a Level 3 Blessing backing it.
The moment Leonidas had heard Milon say ‘Burst’, he was ready.
Swift was the Level 1 version. Acceleration was Level 2. And Burst was Level 3, the highest form of speed amplification a Missionary could employ.
The rusted ax passed by Leonidas as his body twisted, cutting into the ground behind him as beads of sweat fell from his brow.
Leonidas’ gaze locked onto the ax, waiting for it to do something else as he retreated to the side.
The power behind that ax hadn’t been normal. If it was being controlled by a Blessing similar to Mana Hand, then it was very possible that it could continue to attack him even after failing once.
The rusted bronze ax trembled, pulling itself out of the ground.
Leonidas brandished his sabers, ready and waiting.
However, outside of his expectation, the ax lifted into the air, shooting off into the distance and disappearing over the horizon.
Leonidas watched this with narrowed eyes, half waiting for a second throw and half feeling his heart tremble with apprehension.
Just who had thrown that? And how could they be so powerful over such a large distance?
Leonidas took deep breaths, steadying himself. When he felt assured that a second attack wasn’t coming, his apprehension turned to fury and his gaze shifted from the horizon to the town wall.