Leon didn't raise his voice.
He didn't quicken his pace.
But sothing in his gaze shifted - subtly, as if a thin layer of courtesy had been peeled away, revealing sothing far colder beneath.
Ragnar ground his teeth.
In a single instant, the pieces connected - the man who had killed the giant boar… who had survived despite the zombie horde Ragnar himself had lured there… was now standing in front of him. Healthy. Strong. Looking at him with that sa calm he had watched from afar that night.
Which ant only one thing.
The plan had failed.
Leon took another step forward, stopping clearly within combat range. His voice remained calm, yet there was sothing in it that sent a cold shiver down even Victor's and Arnold's spines.
"You know," he added, "I usually don't have a problem with people trying to kill . It's a new world. Everyone sches."
His eyes locked onto Ragnar's face.
"But I don't like it when soone does it from behind my back."
This ti, his smile held no warmth at all.
Natalia - who monts ago had been focused solely on breaking Ragnar's defense and managing her mana consumption - briefly tore her gaze away from him and looked at Leon with clear suspicion, as if she'd suddenly realized there was another layer to this story she hadn't known about.
"You know this bastard?" she asked coldly, not taking her eyes off Ragnar. Her tone wasn't jealous or emotional - purely analytical, as if assessing a new threat.
Leon glanced at her. His face stayed calm, but a shadow passed through his eyes, making it obvious the subject wasn't neutral to him.
"Do you rember that day you helped at the pharmacy?" he said more slowly, as though piecing together sothing that had once been only a hunch. "After the fight with the boar - when dozens of zombies suddenly started converging on from every direction? Like soone had deliberately led them there?"
He paused briefly, then gave a small nod toward Ragnar.
"That wasn't a coincidence. He lured them. Didn't have the guts to co closer, so he tried to finish off with soone else's hands."
His smile was thin, humorless.
"So yeah. You could say we know each other. He tried to kill . I just… haven't had the chance to return the favor yet."
Surprise flickered across Natalia's face - because even she hadn't known that incident had been a planned execution attempt.
But a mont later, the tension in her shoulders visibly eased, a cool sense of relief settling in her chest. If Ragnar had already tried to eliminate Leon before, then their relationship was obvious - not allies, not rivals competing for influence.
Enemies.
The kind bound to clash sooner or later.
Ragnar - who until now had still tried to maintain so shred of dignity - suddenly paled. His gaze darted between Leon, Natalia, and Roland with mounting unease, as if only now realizing he was facing three people, each of whom alone could've been trouble…
Together, sothing far worse.
Boom!
Without another word, he activated his ability at full power.
The air around him trembled. The ground beneath his feet cracked under the pressure of compressed wind as he spun and bolted at maximum speed, trying to gain distance before any of them could react.
The people watching from the building windows froze. A few couldn't stop quiet gasps when they saw the man who monts ago had been shouting about making soone his "personal bitch" and demanding to be called king…
…now running like soone who had just rembered that in this world, there were predators bigger than him.
Leon didn't move imdiately.
He simply watched Ragnar's retreating figure, his eyes growing visibly colder - like soone had dialed down the temperature in his gaze by several degrees.
"Where do you think…" he said quietly, though his voice carried clearly, "…you're planning to run?"
He stepped forward, extending his hand.
"You seriously thought I'd let you walk away after all this?"
Ragnar hadn't even made it halfway between the building and the intersection when Leon raised his hand…
…and the shadow trailing behind the fleeing man suddenly moved in a way that had nothing to do with natural light.
From the black stain beneath his feet, slender spikes shot upward - thin as needles, moving with surgical precision.
Before anyone could react, they pierced exactly where Leon intended - knees, elbows, shoulders, abdon. They didn't tear brutally through flesh; they punctured cleanly, almost aesthetically for a split second.
Ragnar's steps cut off instantly.
His body jerked to a halt like it had been hooked by sothing invisible. Fresh blood burst from his mouth, splattering onto the pavent before he even understood what had happened.
The black spikes vanished as suddenly as they'd appeared, dissolving back into shadow.
But the wounds remained.
Blood began streaming from them in thick rivulets, staining the ground beneath him.
Ragnar tried to take another step.
He couldn't.
His knees gave out - tendons pierced, muscles unable to bear weight - and he collapsed heavily, dropping to his knees before clutching his stomach as blood soaked through his clothes.
The scream that tore from his throat was shrill and stripped of all dignity.
There was no "king" left in it - only the raw, instinctive pain of a man realizing for the first ti that he might die.
Natalia and Roland froze for a mont, staring at Ragnar in shock, trying to process what they had just seen.
Neither of them had ever seen Leon use his ability before.
There had been no flashy explosion.
No spectacular clash.
Just a quiet, rciless strike that ended the fight in seconds.
Leon walked toward him calmly, step by step, unhurried - like soone going to collect a debt long overdue.
He didn't look angry.
He didn't even look particularly excited.
He looked cold.
When he reached Ragnar - who writhed on the ground trying to stanch the bleeding - Leon crouched beside him, shifted both daggers into one hand to free the other, and grabbed him by the hair without ceremony, forcing his head up.
Ragnar howled - the re movent sending waves of agony from his knees and abdon, nearly knocking him unconscious.
Their eyes t.
This ti, Ragnar wasn't the one looking down.
Leon studied him with a small, almost polite smile.
"There's a saying," he said calmly, as if chatting over coffee rather than kneeling above a man bleeding out on the pavent. "He who lives by the sword… dies by the sword."
He tilted his head slightly.
"I like that one."
Ragnar barely understood the words.
The pain was too overwhelming - his thoughts shattering into chaotic fragnts where survival instinct drowned out everything else.
He breathed heavily, unevenly.
For the first ti, there was no arrogance, no lust, no contempt in his eyes.
Only fear.
Roland - who had watched the last several seconds with the expression of soone who'd seen too much in life to be easily shaken - slowly stepped up beside Natalia, resting his hands on his wooden cane as he studied Leon's back in long contemplation.
"Now I understand," he said calmly, without mockery or exaggeration - like a man arriving at a simple conclusion, "why you said you're not the strongest in your shelter."
Natalia didn't answer imdiately.
Her gaze was fixed on Leon - who, without emotion, was dragging Ragnar across the asphalt by his hair like a torn, worn rag rather than a man who minutes ago had called himself king.
Ragnar scread.
"Let go, you fucking bastard!" he roared, trying to gather enough focus to activate his ability.
The air around him trembled again - like he was about to unleash another compressed wind blast…
But at that exact mont, his shadow twisted unnaturally once more.
Several thin, needle-like black blades pierced through the sa wounds, driving deeper.
Ragnar coughed blood. The pain spike was so violent his concentration shattered like glass hitting concrete, and the half-ford ability fizzled out before taking shape.
Leon didn't even look at him.
"There's no point resisting," he said calmly, as if stating an obvious fact. "The more you struggle, the worse it gets for you."
There was sothing in his tone that wasn't a threat - more like a clinical notification that Ragnar's fate was already sealed.
Enraged and humiliated, Ragnar gathered the last of his strength and tried to strike at Leon's legs - one desperate attempt to prove sothing.
Leon reacted faster.
One kick.
A short, dry crack.
"Arghhhhh!!!" Ragnar's scream tore through the silent street. "You fucking bastard! I'll kill you! I swear I'll kill you!!!"
The bone in his leg snapped under the blow like a thin stick. His eyes widened as he looked at Leon - not like at a man, but at sothing that shouldn't exist in a normal world.
Leon didn't stop.
A second kick.
Another crack.
The other leg broke just as coldly.
Ragnar's scream - longer this ti, almost animalistic - echoed between the campus buildings, bouncing off the walls and seeping into the hall where his people watched from the windows.
Inside, several survivors recoiled instinctively. So covered their mouths, others turned away.
Even if they hated Ragnar, watching a man be broken like that - without hesitation, without emotion - wasn't sothing easily ignored.
Natalia watched.
Roland too.
Neither spoke for a mont, but sothing flickered in their eyes - sothing difficult to na. Not pure fear… more the awareness that Leon, at this mont, wasn't just their ally.
He was a force to be reckoned with - in the fullest sense.
Leon stood over Ragnar with a cold expression, as if performing a task that required no emotional effort whatsoever.
That was when Valeria - standing nearby - slightly furrowed her brows, sothing rare for her.
She spoke faster than usual, and for the first ti in a long while, there was sothing resembling genuine concern in her voice.
"Leon…" she said quietly but firmly. "Check whether your Cold Mind ability has evolved to the next level."
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