"Wait here. This is the safest place."
Leonardo spoke as he helped the comrade he had been carrying to stand on his own two feet again.
The man, who had just moments ago been cradled in Leonardo's arms, now stood wobbly on the ground, barely managing to keep his balance. With eyes still dazed, as if detached from reality, he gave a slow nod in response.
As he blankly watched Leonardo walk away—his shoulders rolling, neck tilting—the belated thought of gratitude flickered through his foggy mind. He finally parted his lips.
But before the words could escape, Leonardo leapt lightly into the air. He glanced back with a smile that defied understanding—and vanished in an instant.
****
“They’re coming!”
Before the eyes of the 6th Battalion, who had lined up beside their comrade, the Sigal surged forth at terrifying speed. Delua’s battered golem scrambled to intercept the charge, but its chest was obliterated by the Sigal’s massive fist, and it stumbled, staggering backward.
“Commander!”
Marlen cried out from behind the collapsing golem. Delua gritted her teeth and forced the golem’s arms to grab onto the cliff above. The maneuver prevented the team from being crushed—but it couldn’t stop the Sigal’s approach.
The monster, shaking its arm free from the rubble, advanced with overwhelming force. The golem’s hands, still gripping the cliff wall, scraped and ground against the stone. Dust and shards of rock tumbled in waves.
As the haze thickened and the valley blurred in a gray fog, the Sigal’s eyes—fixed on its prey—burned with clarity. Its wide maw gaped, reeking of decay and dried blood, as it stretched its arm out to reach its victims.
Kraaaah!
A sudden, guttural shriek tore through the canyon. The Sigal’s massive arm—mere feet from the soldiers—was severed cleanly.
In a blink, its vile tongue and head were sliced off. Blood, said to flow only through a Sigal’s head, neck, and spine, erupted in a red geyser.
The severed neck hit the ground with a sickening thud and writhed. The headless corpse toppled over, crashing into another Sigal beside it, sending both tumbling under their own enormous weight.
The soldiers of the 6th Battalion, who had been bracing for death, stared in mute disbelief as the monstrous forms fell like dominos—arms and necks severed, limbs collapsing mid-motion.
Leonardo, who had disappeared moments earlier, suddenly reappeared before the soldier trapped in the Sigal’s frozen grip. Wedging himself between the creature’s fingers, he leaned back and drove his foot into the opposite side, forcing the digits apart. A sickening crack followed.
Adjusting his stance, he gripped the fingers with both arms and bent them backwards, snapping them fully. He cast the enormous chunk of rock aside and pulled the trapped man free.
“Step back.”
The soldier, nearly yanked off his feet by the sudden rescue, nodded wildly—still reeling—at the sound of Leonardo’s voice. Once he staggered away, clutching his stomach, Leonardo turned and charged.
He moved like lightning through pitch-dark air, cleaving through the Sigal’s arms and torso at a speed the human eye could barely follow. The monster never even registered his presence before its body was split open and crumpled, spraying blood.
Its final howl echoed like a dirge through the cliffs. Blood from the dead monsters flowed into the valley like a red stream, pooling and cascading downward—a vision torn straight from hell.
Leonardo darted through the air, disorienting the Sigals. While their senses faltered, he stopped before them—just for a moment.
One lunged at him—and smashed its own face with its massive fist.
The force knocked the monster off balance, and Leonardo leapt high, slamming a devastating blow straight down onto its head. The skull didn’t just cave in—it crumpled, and then burst into shreds.
Delua, having ceased her golem’s movements, stood frozen as she watched.
Three Sigals, alarmed by the slaughter of their kin, attacked at once. Leonardo extended the blade of his flaming sword into a massive greatsword. Without a flicker of hesitation, he rammed it through all three—skewering them—and split them in two with sheer arm strength.
Three pairs of twitching upper and lower halves lay scattered.
“...”
The members of the 6th Battalion said nothing. ❖ Nоvеl𝚒ght ❖ (Exclusive on Nоvеl𝚒ght) What they witnessed was no longer a battle—it was butchery.
Then, a shadow larger than anything yet loomed over the already dark valley. From behind the mist, a creature stepped out—towering, enormous, terrifying.
Even Delua, hardened by war, gaped wordlessly at the scale of the creature. It was the largest Sigal she had ever seen.
Perhaps hearing its brethren’s screams, it bellowed at Leonardo and glared warily.
It ripped massive slabs of cliff from either side, hefted them like stones, and hurled them straight at him.
Leonardo didn’t dodge.
Behind him stood his allies.
Instead, he shattered the flying boulders with a single swing of his sword. Rock turned to powder midair. Frowning, he muttered, “This is why bipedal creatures with hands are such a nuisance.”
Still hovering, he dropped down in front of the 6th Battalion. He extended his arm toward the Sigal. Delua, sensing the incoming storm, signaled her people to retreat.
Mana surged from Leonardo in waves, the air distorting around him. The wind howled through the canyon, and even standing nearby became suffocating.
Even the mindless Sigal flinched, trembling before such power.
A golden magic circle the size of the creature itself bloomed before him. Sparks crackled violently in his palm. In less than a heartbeat, a bolt of lightning—fierce, radiant—shot forth.
Like thunder crashing from the heavens, the lightning streaked across the valley. It incinerated the corpses in its path, engulfed the towering Sigal at the rear, and reduced it to smoking ash.
The thunderclap shook the entire gorge. The 6th Battalion threw up barriers and covered their ears.
When the light finally faded and their eyes reopened, the valley had changed.
The cliffs had been obliterated. The monsters? Unrecognizable heaps of burned meat. The thick fog? Gone—scattered like ash in the wind.
For one fleeting moment, the sunlight pierced through the smoke.
But it was short-lived.
Chunks of the exploded Sigal, flesh and gore, rained down like hail and blood.
Under the rippling golden sky, red meat splattered onto the earth with visceral sound. It was grotesque—and yet awe-inspiring. A scene from a divine nightmare.
Leonardo stood beneath it all, untouched. A barrier shielded him. Not a single drop had stained his pristine ivory robe.
Wind whipped through the ruins, his cloak and hair swirling.
The blood rain crowned his still figure like a twisted halo. That single moment—the lone figure in a world of carnage—struck at something primal. It terrified. It mesmerized.
Delua stared in a daze.
A chunk of flesh landed near her feet with a wet thud, splashing blood across her face. She lowered her eyes, watching it twitch—still alive at the cellular level. Wordlessly, she wiped the blood away.
The valley fell silent again.
But it was no longer peaceful.
The ground was soaked in red. Mangled corpses lay strewn in every direction.
Leonardo looked down at his hand.
Wearing those cuffs too long messed with my control.
Just like when he'd accidentally obliterated the third peak while targeting only two—his mana had surged out stronger than intended.
And now, instead of simply clearing out the Sigal, he had carved out a perfectly clean path where a valley once stood.
It wasn’t a problem now. But if he couldn’t regulate his output on future peaks, it could cause landslides—or worse, awaken dormant volcanoes.
He clicked his tongue in mild irritation.
Mana control had dulled just from wearing the cuffs too long.
Lowering the barrier, he turned and walked back toward the 6th Battalion.
He scanned the area. No major injuries—by his standards. Passing through their formation, he said,
“Let’s move. We’ll lose the procession.”
Behind him, the scene he left was unmistakable.
A red valley, drenched in blood. A gaping gorge carved by pure mana. No monsters remained.
And through the center of it all walked a blond man in an immaculate ivory robe and black cloak—like a god returning from war.
Delua and Marlen locked eyes.
Neither spoke.
They didn’t have to.
At the same time, with rare sincerity, both muttered the exact same words:
“Damn, he’s cool.”
