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Chapter 115: 115. Free everyone
Sylo looked at Leo, her poisoned cinquedea spilling venom that crackled on the stone ground, her eyes blazing with only one purpose: to kill the Ruler. Leo stood holding the Blood Dragger, its red blade burning eagerly, his red eyes tranquil but slightly irritated.
Vivien and Lysa stayed close to Leo, their small bodies trembling, not knowing a deadly fight was about to start.
Suddenly, Erin’s violet eyes flashed, and she raised a hand, drawing a glowing symbol in the air. Space mana crackled, a shimmering wave spreading through the hallway like heat. "Enough poustering," she said, voice cold and in charge.
Before anyone could move, the space around him twisted. The hallway vanished in a dizzying flash, and they reappeared in a huge, arena-like room on the third floor. The stone floor was marked with burns and old blood, its edges lined with rusty chains and sharp spikes sticking out of the walls.
Seventy prisoners from the fourth floor appeared around the arena’s edges, their faces showing confusion, fear, and faint suprise.
Some gripped rusty railings, knuckles white, eyes flicking between Leo and Sylo. Others leaned against walls, too weak to stand.
Erin perched on a high, throne-like chair on a raised platform, her silver locks glinting like a beacon, her violet eyes glinting with amusement and authority. She leaned forward, commanding the room like an untouchable queen watching a deadly game.
Vivien and Lysa stood beside her, moved in the shift, their eyes wide with confusion and fear. Lysa held Vivien’s arm, her voice a scared whisper. "Where... are we?" Vivien’s red eyes searched for Leo, looking for comfort, but the arena’s heavy silence swallowed her voice.
Erin’s voice thundered, distinct and loud, calling out to the prisoners. "Look at your hero, Leonhardt! He’ll defeat this woman who’s in charge here and free you all from your chains!"
Her words lit up the crowd. Some prisoners gasped, their tired eyes glowing with hope, their cheers weak but strong, voices rough from not speaking.
"Free us!" a man croaked, hands shaking on the railing.
A woman sobbed, touching her collar, whispering, "It’s real... someone came." Others stayed quiet, faces hard with doubt, too broken to believe, but unable to look away from Leo, their last hope.
Erin’s eyes shifted to Leo, her smirk a challenge. "Leo, show you’re capable to be a Ruler!"
Leo’s brow furrowed, annoyance in his eyes. "Why’s everyone obsessed with this Ruler stuff?" he muttered, shaking his head. "I just want my sister back, not some big title."
Sylo’s face hardened, her cinquedea glowing with a creepy purple light, the air around it buzzing with mana. A spark of fear crossed her eyes—Erin’s easy space magic, moving a whole crowd, was power she hadn’t expected, making the fight riskier.
But her mission is important now, no matter what. "You’re wasting my time," she growled, summoning her soul resonance weapon, a cinquedea, its blade gleaming with a sinister purple hue, the air around it humming with mana. Her voice was a low snarl."I’ll cut you open in front of your sister."
Leo sighed, looking bored. "Really? I get you instead of Draven?" He glanced at Erin, voice dry. "This your idea of fun?"
Erin’s smirk grew, her tone teasing. "What, scared to fight a woman?"
Leo snorted, shaking his head. "Nah, I’m all for fair fights." In his past lives, women assassins were some of the toughest he’d faced—not because he held back, but because their smarts and grit pushed him hard. "She’s just gonna be a pain."
Sylo’s eyes flared with anger, her patience gone. "Enough talk, Ruler!" Her voice was a poisonous hiss, her cinquedea raised to strike.
Leo’s smirk came back, bold and fearless. He rolled his shoulders, the Blood Dragger steady in his hand. Elynn, Mana +2, Strength +2, Defense +1, Endurance +1, he thought, adding stat points from his level-up to 15, his body buzzing with new power.
[Stat points have been distributed!]
The prisoners’ feelings surged—hope, fear, and doubt mixed. A young elf, face scarred from experiments, held the railing, muttering, "If he wins... we might live." An older dwarf, beard messy with blood, clenched his fists, eyes wet, daring to hope for freedom.
But some, crushed by the cult’s cruelty, stared blankly, their hope gone, yet even they couldn’t look away from Leo, the man fighting their captors.
Vivien’s voice broke through, small but strong. "Big brother, you can do this!"
Sylo charged, her cinquedea a blur of poison and mana, aiming for Leo’s throat. He countered her strike with the Blood Dragger, sparks flashes as blades met.
the force pushing them back across the scratched stone floor. Their eyes stayed locked, neither blinking. Sylo moved again, fast and graceful, her cinquedea slashing with deadly aim.
Leo blocked each strike, the Blood Dragger flashing in his hand, sparks flying. Her attacks were wild, hard to predict, the blade weaving in curves that forced Leo to twist and dodge, his boots scraping the rough floor. "You’re quick, lady," he muttered, smirking.
"Keep talking, Ruler. It’ll make killing you sweeter," Sylo hissed, spinning with deadly speed. Her free hand flicked out, and green mana burst from her palm. The floor cracked, and thorny vines, thick as pythons, exploded upward.
Leo’s smirk faded, his instincts screaming. He used Shadowstep, vanishing and reappearing ten feet away as the vines tore through where he’d stood, ripping the stone like paper.
"Flower magic? That’s cool," he taunted.
The vines kept coming, twisting and growing, their thorny tips chasing him like hungry animals.
Leo swung the Blood Dragger, channeling fire mana in a blazing arc that incinerated a swath of vines. But from the ashes, another vine popped up, forcing him to dodge again.
"Annoying," he growled, getting frustrated. He activated Mana Surge, his body buzzing with a boost to speed and power, and rushed Sylo, dodging through the vines with crazy speed.
Sylo’s smirk was cold, her arm rising as a wall of violet flowers materialized before her, their petals hard as iron, blocking Leo’s path like a fortress.
Leo’s eyes went wide as Sylo’s cinquedea pierced the flower wall, striking for his chest. He leaped backward barely in time, the blade scraping inches from his body. The flowers vanished, and Sylo charged, taking advantage of his stumble. But as her blade got close, Leo used Shadowstep, appearing behind her.
She sensed it, spinning with her sword up, but Leo grabbed her wrist mid-swing. With a quick twist, he spun her and slammed her to the ground, the impact cracking bones with a gross crunch.
The prisoners gasped, eyes full of awe as Leo took control. He pinned Sylo with his knee, crouching over her, the Blood Dragger at her throat. "Sorry, Draven’s girl," he said, voice cold. "Game’s over."
Sylo’s pained face twisted into a creepy smirk. "Oh, really?" she whispered, Leo’s brow furrowed, confusion flickering—then his vision blurred, a wave of dizziness crashing over him. Blood dripped from his mouth, thick and metallic, pooling on the stone.
The poison.
