The smile on Leonel's face was one those elders present wished that they could wipe away with a single slap, but whether it was the Starship, or due to Alienor, they knew that such a thing was a pipe dream. But the ask alone wasn't why they were in such a tough situation. They had witnessed Leonel's cunning a long while ago, they had even felt enraged on behalf of their disciples, but when it was suddenly turned on them, they felt even more suffocated.
Compared to the revenue of a 100 years for a single disciple, a single Gold Grade weapon was less than nothing, it might as well be an ant by the side of the road. So, why was there such a disparity in the price?
Of course, the Heirs were worth a great deal more, but surely it wouldn't be millions of times more which was the range that they were working with here. The only explanation was that Leonel had done it on purpose.
While one Gold Grade weapon wasn't worth much, just how many disciples had they sent in? Any who wanted to have even a small chance of winning would have to send tens of millions in, and that was the bare minimum.
Those that were like the Taur family that had died early on were still relatively luckier. That was because they had only had a few thousand disciples to start when their road had come to an end. But how could this be the case for them all?
Leonel hadn't made a distinction between people he had killed with his own hands and those that had died at the hands of others either. That meant it was a wide open opportunity for all of those here, and after the shock that they could be revived subsided, the sinister nature of Leonel's words settled in soon after.
This was because of one simple reason: if they saved one, they would have to save them all. No, even further than that, even if 99 of 100 families refused this deal, just one of them nodding their head would force the hand of the rest.
The Taur family, for example, was one such existence that was very likely to agree. Armand was their one Heir level genius that had died, if his partner was taken into account, they would have to exchange 110 years of revenue in addition to a few thousand Half Life Grade weapons. After all, the first few thousand disciples to be traded for would have been their absolute best.
This was a steep price, but it was relatively easier to swallow compared to what the Gemin and Libra families would have to pay, or the Pyius and Quarius families after them.
This might not sound like a big deal. Just exchange for less people, right? But any Patriarch or Matriarch who would be willing to make such a decision never deserved their position in the first place. That wasn't because of some sanctimonious moral high ground, but rather because they would be far too stupid.
If you traded for some lives, but not others, how would their people react? Didn't those geniuses have their own parents? Didn't they have grandparents? Siblings? How would such individuals react to knowing that the family could have revived their loved one for a mere Gold Grade weapon and yet refused to?
What was the value of a human life? This was a question that Leonel had been pursuing the answer to for all his life. But right now, the answer seemed quite clear: to the right person, it was priceless.
If these leaders and Ancestors wanted their absolute geniuses back, they would have to exchange for everybody, or nobody at all. And if they took the latter option, they would have to hope that no other families took Leonel up on his deal or else their higher ups would look both weak and heartless in comparison.
That was the reality. Although Leonel was seemingly giving them the option to refuse, the guillotine was already above their heads. His sly smile held all the meaning in the world. They were already caught in his net the moment he had taken action.
And now, these families were in a situation where they had no choice but to fund the Morales family's war efforts. And considering the skill that Leonel had displayed, and the special armors he had created that could allow soldiers to share their power amongst one another, this was the worst thing they could do.
Leonel smiled and didn't say anything more, he didn't care to waste his breath on these people. He had already given them a way out.
He had told them already that anyone he saw would die under his hand. They hadn't believed him, they had thought he was too weak, and far too arrogant, and now they were paying the price for it.
With a slight nudge, the Starship moved forward, the various Ancestors having no choice but to move out of the way.
Alienor shook her head when she saw where Leonel was going.
Leonel landed on his father's silver boat and unceremoniously threw out a kick. Those in the surroundings were once again stunned, and each of them wore odd expressions. Once again, everything they knew about Velasco's character said that he wouldn't stand for such a thing even by the hands of his own son.
As expected, before the kick could land, a shield magically appeared and Leonel's foot was blocked.
"You have a lot of nerve disturbing my nap!"
Velasco's voice boomed like thunder, the various Starships in the surroundings tumbling and groaning. Even the Protective Force Art of Leonel's newly acquired Starship rumbled and cracked. A shield that should have been immune to the attacks of an Ancestor almost fell beneath a single shout.
Everyone's expression changed once again. However, Leonel's next words made them choke.
"Are you done yet, old man? Give it up, your beautifully sculpted image has been tarnished. I mean, I could tarnish it a little bit more if I revealed what was in-"
Velasco suddenly scrambled to get up.
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