The Rude Bastard
"······."
Light returned to Leon's vacant eyes. Consciousness flooded back in.
He stared straight ahead······.
Blood was splattered all around him. Priests and physicians clustered over Prua, who lay sprawled on the floor.
"······."
Leon looked down at the sword in his hand. Warm blood still ran along the blade. The residual feel of the cut still thrummed through his palm.
"Hah."
He pressed a hand to his forehead.
Did I just fuck up? Did I cut down the Helbridge young master? Am I screwed?
The world was about to go black again when someone stepped up beside him. It was Aqua.
"Little brother Leon, that was some fine skill. Overcoming a gap in realm like that. Especially that last strike — for a moment there, it looked like you'd broken through the wall."
"Is that so······?"
At those words, Leon scrambled to recall the fight just past.
There were a shitload of dots, I think.
He'd swung the sword with his mind completely gone, so the memory was a mess. Had he entered a state of no-self? Absolutely not. "Snapped and went berserk" was the more accurate description. Madness had simply eaten his brain.
Still, before the spark of insight could slip away entirely, Leon tried to salvage as much of the memory as he could.
That last sword······ did it surpass Flowing Instant?
It seemed so. Even through the hazy recollection, it was clear the speed had leapt to another dimension entirely. Otherwise Prua never would have fallen.
How the hell did I even do that.
Of course, the method itself remained a complete mystery.
Leon scratched his head in frustration. He wanted a cigarette.
Aqua watched him for a moment, then spoke.
"Not coming back to you?"
"No."
"Then don't force it. No need to torment yourself over it. Happens to martial artists all the time."
"Mm."
Aqua smiled kindly.
"What matters is that you crossed it once. You've already set foot beyond the wall — the next time won't be far off. That's something worth celebrating."
"······Thank you for the advice."
Taking Aqua at his word, Leon decided to ease up. Some problems simply refused to yield no matter how long you sat and fretted over them. Better to shove it into a corner of the mind and let time do its work — the realization would come on its own.
"Hyung, are you all right?"
Leon approached Prua. After treatment, the man's complexion had returned to normal, and every visible wound had been cleanly closed.
"I'm really sorry about this."
Prua waved a hand with an awkward laugh.
"It's fine. ······Seriously. I've taken hits like this plenty of times sparring with my brothers. What's actually embarrassing is that an Expert Upper got his ass handed to him by an Expert Intermediate."
He wasn't wrong.
Leon hadn't used any killing techniques, and the idea that an Expert Intermediate had lost control of his strength badly enough to injure an Expert Upper was absurd on its face.
"······."
"······."
Leon couldn't find anything to say. Apologizing further after a line like that would only bruise Prua's pride more.
—Hahahaha!
After a beat of locked eyes, Leon and Prua both burst into hearty laughter and let it go. A man's laugh.
Still chuckling along with them, Aqua clapped Leon on the shoulder.
"I'd love nothing more than to trade blows with you right now······ but I think we'd better call it a day. Pushing any further would be excessive."
"You're right."
The atmosphere was thoroughly unsettled.
"We'll set a time soon."
"I'll be waiting."
"Ah, and one more thing."
"Go ahead."
Aqua paused briefly, then said:
"Look after Celia for me. She's the type who buries things deep rather than shaking them off."
Leon hesitated for a fraction of a second, then nodded.
"I'll keep that in mind."
Aqua waved a hand.
"No need to see us off."
"Go on in, little brother."
"See you around!"
"Yes. I'll be going, hyungs."
After the farewells, Leon turned and left the estate.
Thud— thud—
The ground felt light under his feet.
A gloomy sky choked with ash-gray rain clouds. It wouldn't rain, but there was no chance of seeing the sun before the day was out.
If tomorrow could clear up a bit, that would be nice.
Tomorrow was the full moon, after all.
The thought crossed his mind as he stroked the sword hilt, still faintly warm. With his other hand he stuck a cigarette between his lips and struck a light.
Leaving the estate gates behind, Leon set his course for the Asonia residence and walked the main road.
Several minutes into the walk, he sensed a massive presence and stopped cold.
The presence closed the distance at speed — and then burst into view right in front of him.
Hiiiiing!
Krrrrrrrr······.
A black carriage came thundering up and slammed to a halt, blocking Leon's path completely.
"······."
The coachman's face — a man with a sword strapped across his back — was utterly blank.
Leon scowled and glared at him.
"What the hell do you think you're doing?"
"······."
The coachman ignored him. He simply stared at Leon with hard eyes.
Leon was about to snort in disbelief when—
Clack—.
The carriage door opened, revealing the silhouette of a man within.
"Busy from the crack of dawn. Made me waste a trip."
An extremely arrogant tone. The man didn't even show his face. He remained sunk in the darkness of the carriage interior, merely flicking his fingers.
"Get in. We'll talk inside."
"······."
Ssssss—
Leon took a deep drag on his cigarette. The ember flared bright as the paper burned down in a rush.
He spat out the butt and opened his mouth. Smoke billowed from between his lips, wreathing his face.
"······You come down here and say it yourself."
Leon couldn't hold back the rest.
"You rude bastard."
"Puhahaha!"
Laughter spilled out from inside the carriage.
Hearing it, Leon sighed.
That wasn't a man's laugh. It was artificial, empty of any real boldness — the kind of laugh you manufacture when you're trying to sound like a man. It stood in pathetic contrast to the Helbridge brothers' laughter from earlier.
"Shut the hell up. I can't stand listening to it."
At Leon's words, the laughter cut off cold.
The owner of the black carriage, Raul Crusif, spoke.
"You've grown quite a bit, Leon. Talking back to this older brother of yours."
Leon roughly raked a hand through his hair.
Ah, this son of a bitch······ I like him less and less by the second.
Leon's goodwill toward Raul had been plummeting ever since yesterday's dinner. His impression of the man had been rotten even before they met. Digging through the original owner's memories made it painfully clear that Raul was a complete idiot — even the Swiss-cheese remnants of those memories were enough to know. Limon had given him a scathing assessment as well.
And after watching the way he actually carried himself yesterday, the dislike had only deepened.
Sssk—
Raul shifted slightly, stepping out of the shadows. His face emerged — slit eyes fixed on Leon, lips already parting.
Leon had no interest in hearing whatever garbage was about to come out, so he struck first.
"Shut up. Shut up and listen."
"······."
"'Older brother,' he says. Unbelievable. Hyung Limon was a man who carried a straight, upright conviction in his chest — a man who understood courtesy and duty. A man who deserved respect. I have no problem calling a man like that 'hyung.'"
Leon pressed on without pause.
"You, on the other hand? The way you've spoken, the way you've acted, the way you've carried yourself this whole time — is any of it right? And you still want to be treated like an older brother? You've gotten worse, not better — not by a single inch. That's why Limon is a hyung, and you're just a rude bastard."
He could feel Raul's attendants and guards go wide-eyed at the tirade.
But the more Leon talked, the hotter his blood ran.
"You worthless piece of shit. What the hell is this, right in the middle of a District Two street? Look at all the eyes on us. You're dragging the Crusif family's name through the mud. Not noble, not manly — nothing. Did you think slamming a carriage into my path would scare me? Was that your idea of seizing the initiative?"
Mid-rant, he suddenly pointed dead at one side of the carriage.
"You son of a bitch — why is your hand on your sword? You really want to die? Do you even understand who you're standing in front of? I'm the third young master of the family you belong to, you fucking—"
Fwoooooosh—!
A bone-chilling killing intent erupted like an explosion, wrapping the entire carriage. Raul hastily raised a hand to stop someone.
"Don't do anything stupid. Who told you to move?"
"Forgive me, my lord."
The voice came out strained, crushed under the weight of the killing intent.
Leon pulled out another cigarette, stuck it between his lips, and took a deep breath of pure white smoke instead of air.
"Raul. Listen carefully. I'm going to say this once, right here."
His voice dropped low, fury held in check.
"I have zero interest in the successor's seat. So don't even think about pulling whatever schemes are rattling around in that thick skull of yours. Don't go looking for trouble. Leave me alone and I'll leave you alone."
"······."
"And if you actually want to talk to me, come find me with some damn manners."
Having ground the words out, Leon stepped into the Heavenly Spirit Steps and sprang right up to the front of the carriage.
Whack!
He smashed a fist into the coachman's head — the man still glaring daggers. The coachman took the blow without even reacting and tumbled backward off his seat.
"And you, you fucking bastard······ ignoring me while I'm talking, looking at me with those shitty eyes. If you're going to act tough, pick your targets — you're acting tough with me? And that bastard inside already had his hand on a blade. You've all completely lost your minds."
Thwack!
Leon flung the cigarette butt hard against the carriage. One of the horses flinched as the hot ember struck it.
"Bunch of worthless idiots······."
He shoved his hands into his pockets and walked away.
— ······.
Around the carriage, a silence settled like the aftermath of a storm.