The air stood absolute still. A single, razor-sharp glare exchanged between them held the suffocating weight of fallen kingdoms.
Leornars tilted his head slightly, a wicked, sadistic smirk tugging at the corners of his lips.
Stacian, watching the quiet standoff from a high ridge far in the distance, narrowed her eyes into cold slits.
*Quick adaptability... an unimaginable capacity for memory... a prodigy whose growth borders on the divine,* she thought, her fingers tightening around her staff. *This isn't at all what I expected from the ancient prophecy.*
She clenched her fists until her knuckles turned white.
*No... he isn't just a prophesied weapon. He's becoming something far more terrifying.*
Meanwhile, within the shadowed stone walls of a remote, subterranean base, the remaining members of the Black Acers prepared for their upcoming strike.
The grand, dimly lit hall echoed with nervous, hushed whispers.
At its farthest end, suspended in the air by ethereal chains that crackled with blinding holy fire, sat Zaryter Daternmum—calm, silent, but radiating a barely-contained pressure that made the surrounding torches flicker wildly.
"Are you sure we can actually beat him?" one of the seven high-tier Black Acers asked, his voice laced with unhidden caution as he glanced toward Zaryter.
The sub-leader of the Acers let out a harsh, mocking scoff. "Zaryter is exceptionally powerful—there's no denying his divine contract. But he isn't invincible. Everyone in this world has a fatal flaw."
"And his flaw?" the same Acer pressed, crossing his arms nervously.
The leader's eyes gleamed with a cold, predatory light. "His little sister."
A chilling, heavy silence descended upon the dark hall.
"Now go," the leader ordered coldly. "Find Leornars."
Days passed in quiet succession.
Leornars and Stacian had seamlessly integrated themselves into the local border village, teaching advanced agricultural techniques, purifying ruined soil with combined magic, and guiding the impoverished farmers through a cycle of seasonal renewal. But even amidst the rural simplicity and quiet routine, Leornars never once allowed his guard to drop.
One afternoon, while the villagers were busy tending the fields and no eyes were watching, he vanished in a single blink—breaking the sound barrier with an explosive burst of [Shadow Movement].
*BOOM!*
Like a streak of dark lightning, he zipped silently through the ruined alleyways and rusted rooftops of the border town until—
*There.*
A hooded silhouette stood in the shadow of a crumbling archway below.
Leornars grinned, his face twisting into an amused, predatory mask.
"**Gale Trial.**"
A violent surge of pressurized wind exploded outward from his body, tearing through the alleyway and ripping the heavy cloth hood straight off the intruder's head.
Wrong face.
It wasn't Zaryter.
Leornars frowned, his expression instantly dropping into cold disappointment. "Tch. What a complete waste of my time."
He turned on his heel, preparing to leap away—but the caught Acer snarled, unsheathing a serrated dagger and lunging straight for his back.
Without flinching, Leornars executed a effortless backward leap, landing casually atop the edge of a nearby stone roof. He looked down at the assassin with a look of detached, absolute boredom.
"That's just the natural order of life, isn't it?" He tilted his head, his crimson eyes gleaming like dying embers in the shade. "You look up to me..." He paused, his smirk returning with a lethal edge. "...and I look down at a piece of trash like you."
The Acer roared in frustration and charged again, leaping up the wall.
Leornars didn't even bother to take a defensive stance.
*Snap.*
In a fraction of a second, he vanished and reappeared directly beside the assassin in mid-air, extending his hand to gently pat the man's hair like he was soothing a petulant child.
Shock widened the Acer's eyes as his brain struggled to comprehend the speed gap.
Then came the sheer, unadulterated agony.
Leornars clamped his hand into a fistful of the man's hair, pulling him down and delivering seven merciless, bone-shattering punches to his ribs and face in under three seconds flat. Before the man could even fall, Leornars swept his legs out from under him, slamming him face-first into the rooftop and planting his heavy boot directly onto the back of his skull.
"Tell me where Zaryter Daternmum is hiding," Leornars commanded, his tone dropping into an ice-cold register as he pressed harder, making the man's jaw scrape violently against the stone.
"D-Die... you monster..." the Acer spat through a mouthful of blood.
"So no room for negotiation, then..." Leornars muttered softly. "What a pity."
He stomped down with brutal force. And again. And again—until the stone beneath gave way and the skull beneath his boot cracked completely.
Leornars clicked his tongue in annoyance, stepping away from the limp body. "Ah... my good boots are ruined."
*FLASH—!*
A blinding bolt of golden lightning tore through the air, grazing his cloak by millimeters. He twisted his body just in time, his crimson eyes sharpening instantly as he touched down on the roof tiles.
A second Black Acer materialized on the opposite ledge, his hands shaking as he stared at the carnage in absolute disbelief.
"He... he dodged that?!" the assassin gasped, his breath hitching in his throat. "That lightning blast moves at six times the speed of sound...!"
He looked closer at the figure in front of him, and the blood in his veins ran completely ice-cold.
Leornars stood as a silent, terrifying silhouette against the rising wind, two burning crimson eyes piercing through the ambient gloom of the alley.
"Are you Zaryter Daternmum?" Leornars asked, his voice sounding like a soft whisper echoing from a graveyard.
"N-No," the Acer stammered out quickly, taking an involuntary step back as he glanced down at his crushed comrade. "But... but I can take you to him! I can show you where he is!"
Leornars blinked, his glowing eyes softening just a fraction. "Huh? You'll actually show me where he's hiding?"
"Yes! Just don't kill me!"
Inside his mind, Leornars let out a dark chuckle. *So Stacian was right after all... My passive aura can naturally intoxicate and completely break the spirit of the weak-willed. I didn't expect it to work this effectively on a trained assassin.*
They traversed through worn dirt roads and crumbling ancient ruins on the outskirts of the sector.
The panicked Acer spoke in a quiet, rapid whisper, desperate to keep his captor entertained. "Our syndicate... the Black Acers... we originally operated out of the city of Urza on the northwest coast. Our high leader is Zurich. He's a former B-rank veteran adventurer... an expert in martial arts and high-tier fire magic. He's currently wanted across three continents for... well, a lot of things."
Leornars walked silently behind him, his dark eyes narrowing as he processed the information.
*Rape, genocide, organ trafficking, high-profile assassination, slave trade... a man with that kind of ruthless infrastructure could have been incredibly useful for my underground expansion plans,* Leornars mused darkly. *Had he not made the fatal mistake of touching slaves in my sector...*
They finally arrived at the perimeter of a broken, overgrown coliseum.
The Acer pulled a silver brooch from his collar and checked the central gem—a small red rune on the surface was blinking rapidly. "He's close... he's inside the inner ring."
Leornars leaned over the man's shoulder, his eyes locking onto the tracking dot illuminated on the magic brooch.
*I see... so Zaryter is nothing more than a glorified slave bound to the Black Acers through leverage,* Leornars realized, a dark intrigue blooming in his chest.
Leornars gave a slow, approving nod. "Thanks for the directions."
*SWIPE—!*
Without a moment of hesitation, Leornars flicked his wrist, slicing the Acer's throat clean through with a hidden blade. He caught the man's collapsing body in complete silence, lowering him gently to the dirt.
"You may join your friend in the dark now," Leornars whispered softly.
He casually wiped his blood-stained blade clean on the dead man's cotton shirt before turning toward the grand entrance of the ruined arena.
Heavy, deliberate footsteps echoed across the cracked stone flooring.
Zaryter Daternmum emerged from the shadows of the broken archway, bringing himself to a halt a dozen meters away. His sharp, hollow gaze immediately fell upon the fresh corpse lying at Leornars' feet.
"A friend of yours?" Leornars asked, his voice entirely devoid of care as he stepped over the body.
"Hardly," Zaryter replied, his voice raspy and cold. "I barely speak to human trash."
Leornars let out a faint, dry chuckle. "Fair enough."
Then, absolute silence settled over the colossal stone amphitheater.
A single wild bird chirped in the distance.
*BOOM—!*
Both figures vanished simultaneously in a blinding blur of raw speed.
Zaryter struck first—driving a chain-wrapped fist toward his throat—but Leornars parried the blow with effortless precision.
A second strike—dodged with a subtle tilt of his head.
A third high kick—countered mid-air with an open palm strike.
A fourth flurry—blocked squarely in mid-air.
Then—*CRACK—!*
Leornars drove a mana-reinforced fist straight into Zaryter's abdomen, shattering his defensive aura and causing him to spray a mouthful of bright red blood into the air. Before Zaryter could recover his footing, Leornars grabbed him by his collar and hurled him like a ragdoll into the thick stone wall of the arena.
The massive structure split and caved in upon impact, sending a cloud of pulverized dust into the sky.
Zaryter staggered out of the rubble, clutching his ribs as his breath hitched violently. *No... this makes no sense. This isn't right... This isn't the same weak boy I fought in that alley just days ago!*
Before he could even raise his guards, Leornars materialized directly above him in the sky. He rained down a brutal, relentless barrage of downward strikes straight into Zaryter's face, driving him lower and lower before reaching out, grabbing a fistful of his hair, and smashing his head violently into the stone floor.
Zaryter let out a primal, blood-curdling roar of humiliation and rage.
"**CHAIN BREAKER—ETERNAL CHAINS OF SOLITUDE!**"
Blazing, celestial chains of raw divine magic erupted from his skin, slicing through the air with unbearable, scorching heat. They danced and struck frantically, every trajectory completely randomized to prevent prediction.
" You call that thing a chain Breaker? That's an incomplete olm of the lord" Leornars said calmy
Yet Leornars moved like physical smoke—twisting, bending, and weaving through the golden death web with eerie, terrifying grace.
*Why... why is he getting faster with every passing second?!* Zaryter screamed in his mind, panic clawing at his chest.
A stray chain managed to coil tightly around Leornars' chest—but Leornars didn't even flinch at the burning holy fire searing his leather coat.
Instead, a wide, manic grin spread across his face.
"Awaken—**Bellian**."
From the dense shadow beneath Leornars' feet, the colossal, dark-armored knight materialized, drawing his longsword and smashing the divine chain into fine golden dust. The force of the dark pulse launched Zaryter high into the open sky.
Leornars leapt instantly, twisting his body mid-air to deliver a devastating, weight-backed roundhouse kick square into Zaryter's jaw.
*CRASH—!*
Zaryter hit the cracked arena floor, rolling violently across the dirt before desperately staggering back to his feet.
He was panting heavily. Blood poured down his face. His divine aura was flickering on the verge of total collapse.
Desperate. Broken.
Then—absolute darkness swallowed his peripheral vision.
"**Shadow Movement.**"
Leornars vanished from sight entirely.
Zaryter blinked—and in the very next instant, he was already slammed face-down into the dirt, his skull pinned firmly beneath the crush of Leornars' heavy boot.
He didn't even process how it had happened. He only knew that his strength had failed him completely.
"I honestly can't believe I allowed myself to hold back against you last time," Leornars said coldly, his voice dripping with pure, concentrated venom as he stared down at his helpless foe.
He delivered a brutal, lingering kick straight into Zaryter's ribs—sending his broken body tumbling across the dusty arena floor like a useless sack of meat.
Unconscious.
Broken.
Utterly defeated.
Leornars stood tall amidst the dust, snapping his pale fingers with a sharp *clack*.
"**Ascian.**"
From the shadows, the massive inferno wolf emerged with a low growl. It stepped forward, clamping its razor-sharp jaws firmly onto Zaryter's limp lower jaw, dragging the broken warrior across the stone floor while a thick ribbon of dark blood trailed behind him like a banner of complete failure.
"Let's move," Leornars muttered, turning his back on the ruined coliseum as his crimson eyes glowed brightly in the dim twilight. "A piece of broken trash like you shouldn't be left lying around in the open."