Chapter 1959: Emptiness

1959 Emptiness

When Armand looked up, he could seem to see Leonel's gaze. Despite the armor, despite the construct, despite the rippling obstructions of Force, he could still feel it.

It was a gaze of dominance, a gaze that demanded submission, a gaze that wanted to crush the pride in his heart and force it into obedience.

An absolute defense circulated around Leonel. An absolute offense graced the tip of his spear. And with a step, a flawless synergy seemed to be formed.

The blade of his black spear grew and dwarfed Armand's blades in the blink of an eye.

"Kneel."

It was just a single word, just a single syllable, just a single breath. However, the world seemed to change colors.

When the tip of Leonel's spear appeared before him this time, Armand saw that it was bathed in a violet light as well. Sometimes, the essence of a spear technique didn't need a long phrase behind. Often an emotion didn't need a long explanation attached to it. Leonel's spear seemed to embody this, and it demanded surrender.

The unwillingness bubbled up from deep with Armand and his battle intent quickly turned to fury.

BANG!

At that moment, the shimmering image behind him solidified and grew with a towering majesty. The form of a golden minotaur stood. Its horns shimmered like two gems, its body looking as though it was carved of the most precious gems.

All at once, the Taur Ancestors rose to their feet, the excitement in their eyes practically boiling over.

Armand's body grew yet another size, the veins coursing throughout his body pumping. In the past, there were only faint flecks of gold, but now, they radiated a dense golden energy as though liquid gold was coursing through his body.

Armand roared and swung to meet Leonel's blade.

Their weapons collided and the world fell into silence for just a moment before everything seemed to be unleashed all at once.

The ground beneath and around them was blasted apart, a large crater spreading out. The air snapped and crackled, and the region for countless kilometers was lit up by colors of gold and violet.

Leonel felt a powerful resistance, but so too did Armand. The faces of his construct and Armand were practically nose to nose. They leaned forward, even somewhat crossing over their own weapons as if they would rather headbutt than exchange blows with their blades.

However, at that moment, Armand's blades gave way.

Leonel's spear descended, slashing across his chest as though it was nothing more than wet paper. He severed flesh and bone as one, cutting into his lungs and heart.

Armand collapsed to a knee, coughing up a mouthful of blood, and then another. The intent to battle was still blazing in his eyes, the golden idol to his back making that intent clear. But even with his usual healing factor, the wound refused to close.

Leonel looked down toward the cracked battle axes in Armand's hands.

They were excellent weapons, but unfortunately, they were only of the gold grade. After their first few exchanges, they had already shown signs of cracking and fracture. Although Armand had tried to protect them with his Battle Ax Force, how could his weapon Force be superior to Leonel's despite being in the Seventh Dimension?

Leonel felt that it was a bit unfortunate. He could have stopped when he sensed Armand's axes giving way, or he could have used a weaker spear from the beginning, but he had refused to do so. These Heir Wars weren't about his own selfish desires to do battle, his goal here was bigger. He was already indulging enough by fighting Armand alone and not teaming up with Aina to finish it quickly in the first place, he couldn't indulge any more than that.

There was a moment of silence as Leonel met Armand's gaze.

"Good battle," he said plainly.

Armand looked up without a word. Even though he was on a knee, he barely had to, his increase in size having been enough that even while down, he was almost the height of Leonel's construct. At that moment, he could have crushed his badge and escaped, but seeing the slaughter of his clansmen around him, his eyes dimmed. For the first time, his battle intent waned somewhat.

The tip of Leonel's spear trembled once and Armand's head was severed from his shoulders.

The Taur family fell into silence. Veins popped across their forearms and foreheads, the heat in their surroundings rising as their bloodlines thumped.

The sound of their hearts, especially as they resonated as one, felt like rumbling and collapsing earth.

Unlike the others, they took deep breaths and didn't say a word, but the red in their eyes, their growing horns and the quaking of their flagship painted a completely different picture.

The echo of Leonel's words seemed to descend once more. The words of a King couldn't be retracted, and exceptions couldn't be made for them.

Others might have thought that Leonel might spare Armand for the sake of a good battle, or because he had never wanted to be there in the first place, or because he felt a sort of resonance with him. But...

Leonel had never had any intention of doing that.

As many came is as many as he would kill.

He looked up into the skies as though he could see the gazes of those that must have been paying attention to him right this moment. His momentum was undying. If it wasn't obvious already, it was as clear as day now. He had come with the intention of fighting against the world.

On just the first day, Leonel had killed not just one genius of the Cataclysm Generation, but two of them. These geniuses that should have been fighting it out for the final, ultimate glory, were unceremoniously slaughtered with the Human Domain as witness.

The words of Leonel Morales were never and would never be spoken with any sort of emptiness.