Death for Insults
Ssshhhhh—
Rain whispered in through a crack in the window.
KRRRRROOOOM!
A peal of thunder shattered the silence, and the blood spreading from the corpse with a dagger through its skull crept toward someone’s boots.
“······.”
“······.”
“······.”
Shock, disbelief, horror, bewilderment—then rage. Murderous stares locked onto Leon.
“What?”
Heh.
Leon’s mouth curled into a long, crooked grin.
“Death for insults. Isn’t that the line you mercenary scum keep hanging off your lips?”
He drawled the words with a sneer, then slipped a hand into his coat. Casually, he pulled out a cigarette and set it between his teeth. Just as he raised a finger to light it—
“You little piece of shit!”
Someone finally found his voice. A big man with heavy jowls, the same one who’d been clinking glasses with the corpse cooling on the floor moments before. Long saw-blade sword in hand, he strode straight at Leon.
Crackle.
Leon’s expression didn’t so much as flicker as he finished lighting the cigarette. Unfortunately, not a single soul among them was wise enough to recognize that the art of sparking fire from bare fingers marked him as an Expert. His movements were too natural, and half their reason had already fled. After all, some blue-faced brat had just casually murdered one of their own.
“Death for revenge too, you bastard! Die!”
The man bellowed, leaping as he cocked the grotesque weapon back over his shoulder—then brought it down like he was splitting firewood.
Whoooosh—!
The jagged saw-teeth fell with crushing weight, a stroke that could bisect a body in a single blow. And still Leon stood rooted, utterly still. The onlookers were certain fear had frozen him solid—that this wet-behind-the-ears brat was about to paint the floor with his brains.
“Sssss—”
Leon drew in a lungful of smoke. A silver arc flashed into existence right in front of him—and something utterly unreal unfolded.
—Shhk!
A head sailing through the air. A face drifting mid-flight, mouth still hanging open mid-shout. Eyes full of nothing but baffled confusion, unable to grasp why the world had suddenly flipped upside down.
The man’s body, robbed of its owner, crumpled forward on the momentum of its charge. From the severed stump of the neck, fluids fanned out in finger-like streams.
Whip.
Leon flicked the blood from his blade, then lifted a foot and kicked the hideous wreck of a body as it toppled toward him.
Bam!
The corpse sailed away trailing blood and vomit like afterimages.
Crunch! Crash!
The bar table in its path collapsed, every glass and bottle on top shattering as they hit the floor.
Clatter! Ting, crash! Shatter!
When the last of the glass finished breaking—
“““······.”””
—silence returned.
“Hoo.”
A thick plume of white smoke rose from Leon’s lips.
Sssssss—
Dense tension flooded through the humans occupying the tavern’s first floor—the Sixth Unit of the Mukwol Squad. Two of them dead in an instant, without so much as a chance to resist. The first could be chalked up to carelessness. The second could not. Every eye had been on him, and most of them hadn’t even registered that he’d attacked until the head was already falling.
A powerhouse. A real one. And a thorough bastard at that. Steel before words. Not a warning cut, not a severed limb—just instant death. Even the Mukwol Squad members, who prided themselves on running wild, didn’t go that far.
Not that any of them were about to roll over. Instead of tucking their tails, they started calculating how to land a hit on him. Why had he reacted so violently? The moment he decided the woman had been insulted, he’d gone straight for the kill. Which meant—
That girl behind him······ she’s got real presence.
Not some rich merchant’s daughter. A noble, for sure.
Is the guy in front her escort? A knight?
Doesn’t move like a knight, though.
Whatever he is, he’s definitely a bodyguard.
Hand signals and glances flew back and forth. Shared years of service meant they didn’t need words. In moments, they reached a single conclusion: take the girl hostage, by any means necessary.
They’d cast Aria as a noble young lady and Leon as her skilled escort. Reality was the reverse—but from where they stood, the assumption made perfect sense. These were the kind of men who charged in headfirst even when they suspected nobility. This was a rough, remote place. Coax, threaten, or kill and bury—the plan was to overpower first and sort it out later. Loose screws all around.
“Sssss······.”
Leon dragged on his cigarette and grinned to himself. He deliberately kept his mouth shut. He didn’t mention that Hera had sent him. Even though it was obvious they hadn’t given up, he simply waited. Why?
He was curious how far these bastards would go. And it was entertaining, in its own way. If he were going to back down in a situation like this, he might as well dress up nice and play the proper noble. Drop the Crusif name anywhere and people usually crawled on their bellies. Not that it would have worked here—these men already had that half-mad look in their eyes. Only extreme, impulsive choices left in their heads. Mention Crusif or young master to them and it would sail right past their ears. Cold violence was the only language they’d understand.
“······.”
“······.”
“······.”
The silent coordination finished. Their eyes sharpened. Dozens of mana signatures stirred at once, and the air in the room trembled faintly. Thick killing intent and savage pressure poured out.
“—Get him!”
The shout and the glittering steel arrived together from every direction. Knives, kitchen blades, carving tools, coins—even crude improvised projectiles like bottle caps. Anything to sow chaos, to buy even a single second of delay.
“Cute.”
Leon laughed under his breath and swept the Heaven-Shattering Sword in a wide arc.
Clang-clang-clang-clang-clang!
A broad curtain of steel deflected and shattered the thrown weapons. In that brief window, two members who’d been edging around the back charged Aria. Spacious as it was, this was still an interior. Two running strides and they’d be on her.
Leon knew it was coming. He didn’t even glance back. Why bother?
Crackle-crackle-crackle!
Blue sparks erupted across Aria’s body. She flung her arms wide and—
Grab!
—snatched the wrists of both men reaching for her, one in each hand.
““······!””
Their eyes bulged. A pale hand had simply appeared and seized their wrists—speed they couldn’t react to, couldn’t even track with their eyes.
Thump!
Leon heard Aria’s heart give a single powerful beat. The sound of her core stirring.
ZZZZZT!
Wrapped in mana, Aria’s body spun like a windmill—left hand up, right hand down. The two men, arms locked in her grip, were yanked along like toys.
Whoosh!
One full rotation, and she hurled them with everything she had. Angle and force perfectly aligned with the momentum of their own charge. Excellent body technique.
Shrieeeek— BOOM!!
A rupture of sound, wood chips flying in a rich spray. The two men shot in straight lines, smashed through opposite walls of the inn, and vanished into the rain-soaked dark. The impact would have shattered every vertebra and pulped their insides. They’d be laid up for months at the least.
All of it happened while Leon was still holding his sword-curtain. In the blink of an eye. The arms of the men who’d thrown the projectiles hadn’t even finished dropping.
Shocked cries erupted from every corner.
“What the hell···?!”
“A combat mage!”
“Shit, where did these freaks come from—”
The tension thickened another degree.
“Hmm.”
Leon allowed himself a quiet note of admiration. This was the moment they should have come to their senses and started begging for their lives. They had to know they were finished. And yet the killing intent still poured off them in streams—despite a gap in power this blatant. Even in Hevilon, a display of force like this usually had people slamming their foreheads to the floor of their own accord. Maybe the Mukwol Squad name wasn’t empty after all. At the very least, their guts were solid.
“Hoo······.”
Leon exhaled smoke. The squad members’ beast-like eyes were still hunting for any opening. Their centers of gravity eased forward. Hands settled over weapon hilts.
“So.”
Leon flicked the butt to the floor.
“What do you think, sis? Keep going?”
“““······?”””
Sis?
He wasn’t looking at Aria behind him. His gaze was fixed precisely on a corner of the tavern.
“Hmm~.”
“““······!!”””
A chilling, honeyed hum. Every taut muscle in the room locked rigid at once. It felt like ice water dumped over their heads. They whipped around in pure terror.
There she was. A beauty with dark crimson hair, legs crossed in languid elegance, surveying the floor.
“C-C-Captain···!”
“Hhk···!”
Weapons slipped from nerveless fingers.
Clatter, clang, thunk!
The racket of falling steel filled the tavern. Hera tapped a fingertip against her chin. The tip of her scarlet tongue flicked out like a snake’s.
“Well······. Part of me would love to watch these clueless vermin die······.”
The squad members’ faces went bone-white. Not a word made it past their locked throats. All that mindless swagger from moments ago might as well have never existed.
“But I need warm bodies for little brother’s commission. Even if I’m just throwing them out as dog food, I’ve got to have something to throw.”
“Hmm. Fair enough.”
Leon clicked his tongue but conceded the point. It was a commission that would get awkward with too few people.
“Then why don’t you head upstairs for a bit~?”
Hera rose from her chair with cheerful energy and jerked her chin toward the stairs.
“And you?”
“I’ll just have a little chat with these kids first~.”
The smile on Hera’s face twisted into something that made the skin crawl. Under her gaze, the squad members trembled like children.