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The battlefield was a symphony of steel and screams.
Leonhart stood amidst the carnage, golden eyes locked onto Aldric. The once-proud Captain of the Royal Guard stood with his blade drawn, his stance rigid. The bloodied corpses of his men littered the ground, their armor torn open, their bodies broken.
And yet, Aldric's gaze burned with defiance. He still thought he could win.
Leonhart rolled his shoulders, cracking his neck. "Last chance, Aldric. Run."
Aldric spat on the ground, raising his blade. "I don't run from monsters."
Leonhart's grin widened, teeth flashing like a predator's. "Then die like the fool you are."
The air between them snapped with mana.
Aldric moved first, vanishing in a blur of speed. His blade struck like lightning—a silver streak aimed at Leonhart's throat.
Fast.
Leonhart tilted his head, the tip of the sword grazing his cheek. Blood trickled, but he barely noticed. His own blade shot forward, intercepting Aldric's second strike in a burst of sparks. The force of the collision sent shockwaves rippling through the battlefield, knocking over the weak and sending dirt flying.
Aldric staggered but didn't let up. He pressed forward, each strike faster, heavier, fueled by desperation and rage.
Leonhart's blade danced, a blur of black steel against Aldric's silver. His movements were fluid, effortless. He parried, twisted, countered, forcing Aldric back step by step.
Aldric's breathing grew ragged. His strikes grew sloppier.
Realization crept into his eyes.
"No…" Aldric whispered. His grip on his sword tightened, but his stance faltered. "No, it can't be…"
Leonhart tilted his head, his smirk razor-sharp. "You recognize it, don't you?"
Aldric stumbled back, his expression paling. "That stance… that movement… It's—"
"The Blade King's," Leonhart finished for him. His mana flared, black and corrosive, twisting the air around him. "Still think I'm just a monster?"
Aldric's eyes widened in horror. His body screamed at him to run, but his pride chained him in place.
Leonhart took a slow step forward. Then another.
Aldric raised his blade with shaking hands. "Y-You died! The Blade King was killed! The world saw it happen!"
Leonhart's chuckle was cold. "And yet, here I stand."
Panic overtook Aldric's features. He lunged with everything he had, desperate to deny reality.
Leonhart met his charge head-on.
Their swords clashed in a final exchange of steel and mana.
Leonhart twisted his blade at the last second, disarming Aldric in a brutal motion. The knight's sword flew, embedding itself into the dirt.
Before Aldric could react, Leonhart's free hand shot forward, gripping his throat. He lifted him off the ground with inhuman strength.
Aldric choked, fingers clawing at Leonhart's wrist, but it was useless.
Leonhart's golden eyes glowed with something ancient, something wrathful.
"Do you know what the difference is between us?" Leonhart murmured, his voice almost gentle. "You fight for a kingdom that sees you as disposable. I fight for something greater."
Dark mana swirled around his grip, corroding Aldric's armor, his flesh. The knight's screams filled the night, raw and unfiltered agony.
Leonhart held him there, watching, waiting. Letting him feel every second of his slow, inevitable demise.
By the time he let go, there was nothing left but a blackened husk.
⸻
Duke Reynard's hands trembled as he gripped his sword. His face had lost all color, sweat beading his brow as he stared at Aldric's corpse.
"This… This isn't possible…" he breathed, barely audible over the cries of his dying men.
Leonhart turned his gaze toward the Duke, and for the first time in his life, Reynard knew true fear.
"Fall back!" he screamed, voice cracking. "RETREAT!"
The human forces broke in an instant, turning to flee. Knights, once proud and disciplined, abandoned formation, shoving past each other in blind panic. The battlefield became a slaughter as monsters tore into their backs.
Leonhart sheathed his blade, watching them scatter. Pathetic.
Just as the battle seemed won, the air shifted.
A pulse of divine energy erupted from the heavens.
A pillar of golden light descended, blinding and holy. The battlefield fell silent.
Leonhart narrowed his eyes as armored figures stepped forth from the light, their presence suffocating.
The Holy Knights of Aries had arrived.
⸻
Leonhart's forces bristled, weapons raised.
The leading Holy Knight—a man clad in radiant gold, a massive greatsword in his grasp—gazed across the battlefield with contempt. "Enough."
His voice was like thunder, carrying divine weight.
Leonhart clicked his tongue. Tch. Annoying timing.
The battlefield had shifted. His forces were strong, but against the Holy Knights, victory was uncertain. Staying meant risking everything.
Leonhart exhaled sharply. "We're done here."
His warriors hesitated.
"Retreat," he ordered, sharper this time. "We've already won."
The monsters obeyed, vanishing into the night.
But before leaving, Leonhart snatched a struggling Aries captain, hoisting him onto his shoulder like a sack of grain.
"Consider this my parting gift," Leonhart mused before disappearing into the shadows.
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The World Reacts
The kingdom reeled.
News of the massacre spread like wildfire. Aldric was dead. The monster army had outmaneuvered them, and worse—the Blade King was back.
The King of Aldenholm slammed his fist onto the war table, his expression twisted with fury. "I want that beast's head on a spike."
Meanwhile, in the depths of the monster city, Leonhart sat across from his new prisoner—the captured Aries captain.
The man glared, defiant even in chains. "Kill me if you want. I won't talk."
Leonhart smirked. "Oh, I'm not here to kill you." He leaned forward, golden eyes glinting. "I'm here to teach you fear."
The war had truly begun.
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To be continued…