Why the Sudden Change in Attitude?
Why? Why the sudden change in attitude?
The moment Leos's verification photo went up, Interrunner erupted into chaos.
Keltazar, who had been scanning Interrunner for intel, slammed his fist down on the desk and roared.
"This is exactly why you don't waste breath talking to idiots."
"What's wrong, Lord Keltazar?"
When a subordinate came over to ask, Keltazar twisted his face into a scowl of pure irritation.
"Safe zones this, safe zones that—I was verifying whether the information flooding the Interrunner boards was real, and I ran into a pile of useless comments. Someone actually saying one man can beat twenty. Absurd."
"Haha, ridiculous, isn't it? That level of skill would put you among the absolute best even inside the Imperial Shadow Group."
"That's precisely my point. Every last mongrel running his mouth without knowing a damn thing."
The subordinate opened his Distance, checked Interrunner, and nodded.
"Ah, so you've been looking at this post. I was reviewing Interrunner myself to verify intel, and I saw it too. This LEO character is no ordinary type. The Red Gate information, the monster data—he's been sharing it all with real precision. And looking at the photo, it doesn't seem manipulated. Looks like he actually took it."
"Even so, that's his limit. Not a single man in our Imperial Shadow Group could face that many alone."
"True enough… But what if LEO really does kill every last one of them by himself?"
"That will never happen."
Keltazar's expression shifted as he added,
"But if it did—then he would be a talent we would have to recruit by any means necessary. An irreplaceable asset the Empire cannot afford to lose. If a man like that truly existed, I would get on my knees to bring him in. Of course, no such thing will occur."
Pacol, leader of the plunderer band Drelf, swept his gaze across the surroundings and shouted.
"There's an enemy nearby! Search the area immediately!"
He could have reverse-engineered their position from the photo Leos had taken, but Pacol chose not to. Anyone skilled enough to slip this close without a sound would have moved the moment the shot was taken—of that much he was certain.
He's a professional. This isn't some joke.
With their location openly exposed, Pacol had mobilized every last member of Drelf to lock down the perimeter. Detection artifacts were laid out in a dense net across the ground. Whether monster or man, no one who set foot on the earth could approach without tripping their sensors.
He took the photo from up in a tree. Did he move higher?
Pacol had stationed himself where he could strike first if the enemy appeared—a thicket of dense brush where visibility was poor. Under the assumption that he spotted the enemy first, it was an ideal position. But if he failed to notice the enemy's approach at all, that same lack of sightline became a fatal liability.
Damn it… How the hell did he get through this entire surveillance net?
He couldn't even guess where the man was, or how he had arrived. When he first posted the location, Pacol had been sure the threat alone would keep people away. Even if someone came, he had been certain they could be killed cleanly. And when that LEO bastard started spouting nonsense in posts and comments, Pacol had been absolutely convinced that the moment they met, the man would die.
Every last one of those assumptions collapsed in a single instant.
Bang!
Bang!
Two sharp, violent gunshots rang out, and two detection artifacts shattered on the spot.
"C-Captain!"
"Report. Now."
"They used a long-range intercept artifact. Hit our detection devices."
"Position! Where is the enemy?!"
"That's…"
The man started to answer Pacol, then hesitated. He simply had not locked down Leos's position well enough to name it. As the man faltered, Pacol ordered every subordinate to converge on the center.
"He's using the terrain. Everyone to the center—form a circle and prepare for his attack!"
These were plunderers who fought outnumbered fights for a living. Survivors who had not been swept away in the Red Gate maelstrom. In that sense, Drelf was a group with real teeth among the plunderer bands—nothing like Ulderic, who had died so hollowly before. But to Leos, both were nothing more than prey.
Bang!
A thunderous crack, and one man dropped dead, struck by a long-range intercept artifact. Pacol's lips curved into a grin as he pointed with a finger.
"Raise your shields! The bastard's to the northeast—hit him there!"
Even with shields ready, he refused to defend, offering a comrade as bait to fish out the enemy's position. Then, once safety was secured, he ordered the rest to wipe the target out.
It was a plunderer's way of fighting—and, in its own way, a ruthlessly efficient combat doctrine. There was just one thing Pacol had failed to account for.
"Die!"
As every member of Drelf charged as one toward Leos with blades drawn, Leos himself burst forward to meet them.
"Five? Isn't that a little light?"
Only five had rushed him. The rest stayed back, guarding Pacol—clearly wary of the long-range intercept artifact Leos carried. Once Leos confirmed that the rear line had no artifacts usable at range, he pulled a chain from inside his coat.
Whoosh.
Whoosh.
As Leos flicked his wrist, the chain began to spin through the air at terrifying speed. Then he snapped it out as if unfurling a whip.
Thwunk!
"Aaaargh!"
The man struck by the blade at the chain's end screamed a hideous scream and collapsed. Leos yanked the chain back in the same motion, pivoted his body, and used the rebound to fling it out again.
Crack!
The chain blade screamed through the air, cutting the wind as it tore forward at a speed beyond reason. The Drelf men tried to dodge, but their eyes could not even track it—they were simply butchered where they stood.
"Th-that's not possible… What the fuck is that…?"
A chain blade. Nothing more than a sword bound to a long chain. No mana devices. Not even an artifact. A weapon Leos swung with nothing but raw strength and rotational force. An ordinary person would need endless trial and error just to throw it properly—let alone control it.
It could attack and retrieve at range, but the chain was heavy. Building speed required constant rotation, which left gaping openings, and the hit rate was notoriously abysmal. It was a weapon long obsolete, abandoned by everyone—and Leos wielded it like an extension of his own body.
His movements were short, economical.
A soft whistle of air, the barest spin, and the chain blade unfurled with a metallic rattle. The instant it struck, he reversed his body and tore it free, converting the returning force into the next throw.
Attack and recovery flowed together like water, and his accuracy approached one hundred percent. Only then did Pacol begin to grasp how bad the situation truly was.
"Fuck… This isn't about some long-range intercept artifact… Raise those shields higher! All of you!"
Terrified the blade might come for him next, Pacol forced the men around him to lift their shields and hid inside the wall they formed. Even so, Drelf's numbers kept dwindling, and the man started scrambling for a plan.
"He can't swing that forever. Whipping that heavy weapon around, retrieving it, moving like that—it has to be burning through his stamina. We charge the moment he tires."
When Pacol assessed the situation coldly and issued the order, the Drelf members nodded. But every last one of them was pouring cold sweat, arms trembling.
How could they not? If the reaper truly walked the earth, it would wear that man's face.
"Guh…!"
Of the five who had charged Leos, four were already dead. The last had his throat pierced by the chain blade and crumpled to the dirt. A perfect victory. Not one of the five had closed within a single meter of him.
"Captain… Shouldn't we run while we still can? That bastard is no ordinary civilian… He's been professionally trained!"
"Shut your mouth!"
Pacol bellowed, spitting curses at the shaking plunderer.
"We've got nearly twenty men here. And you want to turn tail because you're scared of one guy? That son of a bitch is still human. Humans get tired! Swing a weapon like that and he'll burn out fast—so get in there and throw your bodies at him if you have to!"
When the Drelf members still hesitated, Pacol walked to the man at the very rear and cut his throat open on the spot.
"P-Pacol…"
The man clutched at his severed neck and collapsed. Pacol turned his back on the corpse and spoke.
"Charge, you worthless bastards. Refuse and you die by my hand. So you might as well die fighting!"
Only then did every member of Drelf hurl themselves at Leos. They kept their shields high, wary of the chain blade.
But covering their entire bodies with raised shields made proper vision nearly impossible. Leos used that blind spot—the lag in their reactions—to his advantage. He feinted a forward sprint, then dropped low in an instant, crouching flat against the ground. From there he flung his body into a violent spin, falling as if collapsing, and used that momentum to send the chain blade scything under their shields for their legs.
Slash!
The chain blade streaked forward at impossible speed. Deep gashes tore open across Drelf legs; ankles were severed clean through. The advancing men muttered in terror-stricken voices.
"Fuck… He was supposed to get tired… You said he was only human…"
One man mumbled as he watched the chain blade come flying straight at his face.
"How the hell is that even possi—"
Thud!
The moment the blade punched through the man's brow, Leos stopped running. He began to walk, slow and unhurried. Most of the shield-bearers were already combat-ineffective or dead; only the stragglers in the rear remained.
Leos pressed record on his Distance, set it down on the ground, and walked forward at a measured pace.
"Why? Why the sudden change in attitude?"
"…"
"You said you'd kill me horribly. Said you'd slaughter every last person who crossed your path."
Pacol could not form a coherent answer. He swallowed dryly and managed a mumbled question.
"More importantly… th-that video… why…?"
Hoping to buy even a few more seconds, Pacol asked. Leos spun the chain blade in a lazy circle overhead as he answered.
"For verification. Same as what you did to everyone else."