CHAPTER 223: EX 223. RETREAT.

Leon had been confused about this trial since the very beginning. Find the source of corruption and stop it. On the surface, that task seemed like something not meant to be tackled at all. Instead it sounded like something one should run from, not confront. But Leon wasn’t built to turn away. If he ignored this, it would go against everything he stood for.

And now... now he had his first real clue.

The city lord, or rather the abomination that once bore his name, was corruption given flesh. Leon knew that even if the thing didn’t give him all the answers, bringing it down would point him in the right direction. Maybe even directly toward the source.

But first, it had to die.

His grip tightened on his sword as he whispered under his breath,

"Extreme Art: Flicker Fang."

Lightning snapped against his body, his speed skyrocketing. The world slowed around him as he became a blur. In the span of a heartbeat, he dashed across the broken marble, aiming low for the creature’s right leg. One clean strike there, and the hulking golem of faces would lose its balance, buying him time.

But just as his blade arced down, his instincts screamed.

They weren’t whispers, they weren’t warnings—

they were sirens.

Leon canceled the art immediately, cutting the momentum short. His body twisted violently as he hurled himself backward. The sudden shift tore through his balance, sending him smashing into the side of a stone building.

BOOOOM!!!

Dust rained down, pain rippled through his ribs, but nothing happened.

Nothing.

Leon’s pupils contracted.

And then the answer hit him in the most brutal way possible.

Not at him,

at them.

The guards, James, his squad... none of them moved. They weren’t cowering from fear. They weren’t too slow to react. They were frozen.

The roar. It hadn’t just damaged them. It had stunned them.

Leon’s chest clenched as he spotted her, a female guard, her sword trembling in her grip, her eyes wide with terror. She tried to move, her muscles strained, but her body didn’t obey. Not even a step.

The golem loomed forward, the countless heads on its chest and arms snarling, whispering, screaming. Its massive shadow swallowed her whole.

Four feet away.

Her skin began to pale, veins blackening like cracks spreading through porcelain. She convulsed as the black lines spread across her body. And then,

She crumbled.

Her entire form broke apart into a cloud of gray dust. A breeze caught it and carried her away. Nothing remained. Not bone. Not blood. Not a scream.

Leon’s breath hitched as his wide eyes locked on the spot where she’d stood.

’That’s why my instincts flared...’

He pushed himself free of the broken wall, fury burning in his veins. The thing wasn’t just dangerous, it was a calamity wrapped in flesh. It didn’t even need to touch someone to kill them.

A death zone.

And that changed everything.

****

Leon knew immediately, he couldn’t fight here. Not with James, his squad, the guards, and half the city standing like statues under that damnable stun. Against the golem alone, he had a chance. With this many liabilities in the way? He’d be sentencing them to death.

His jaw tightened. ’I need to get them out.’

And for that, he had just the skill.

Extreme Art wasn’t only about destructive techniques. It was an engine that pushed everything he had further. Skills that once had limits evolved under its influence, growing sharper, faster, stronger.

One such skill... was Mirror Split.

Originally, it could only produce a single copy of him. Useful, but limited. Now, shaped by Extreme Art’s growth, the skill had transformed.

Leon exhaled sharply and willed it to life.

"Mirror Split."

Light fractured around him. In the next instant, a dozen copies of Leon shimmered into being, each bearing his cold eyes and crackling aura.

They moved in perfect synchronization, darting into the stunned crowd like hunters. One hoisted a guard over his shoulder, another carried two at once, another seized a fallen servant. In moments, the frozen were being whisked away to safety, scattered in streaks of silver lightning.

One clone skidded to James’ side. James’ eyes flickered with something, shock, maybe even anger as if he wanted to protest, to demand answers. But he was still paralyzed, lips refusing to form words. The clone only smirked faintly, then swept him up and carried him off into the distance.

Within seconds, the courtyard was empty.

Everyone was gone. Everyone but Leon.

The real Leon straightened, his blade humming with force, his white hair fluttering in the abomination’s foul wind. His heartbeat thundered in his ears.

But he didn’t strike. He didn’t charge. Not yet.

Because the death zone still pulsed around the monster. Step too close, and he’d crumble just like the guard.

So for the first time in a battle, Leon did something alien to his instincts, he retreated.

He stepped back, boots grinding against stone as the golem lurched forward.

The creature’s hulking frame loomed, its countless heads groaning and howling in unison. But it was slow. Agonizingly slow. Its mass dragged it down, every movement like a glacier grinding across land.

Leon narrowed his eyes.

Step by step, he drew it away from the city, from Shantel’s people, from the library. To anyone watching, it might have looked like he was running. Like the new ruler of the forest had turned tail from the corruption’s spawn.

But in truth, Leon was waiting.

Waiting for the current cycle to end.

****

Despite the chaos, despite the bloodshed, despite the carnage, despite everything that had happened, this was only Leon’s second day in Pandora.

The world’s unnatural rhythm pressed against him like a secret he had already begun to master. The longer days weren’t just an oddity of this strange land, they were an opportunity. Hours stretched far beyond what he had known on Blue Planet, giving him time to harvest more attack points than usual, more than any normal. That was what he was counting on now. The last cycle had cost him. As He’d spent attack points reinforcing his Force affinity.

As for the Lord’s true form, it wasn’t the lumbering, titan that bore down on him with each trembling step. No, the truth was far more insidious. The head of Pius still lived, embedded and shifting across the massive abomination’s body like a parasite, darting from shoulder to chest to back, never still, never letting itself be an easy mark.

A distant strike, no matter how strong, would only shatter flesh. It wouldn’t reach the core.

Leon’s blue eyes narrowed, his jaw tightening as dust swirled at his feet from the golem’s approach. To win, he needed to get in close, close enough to put all his force into one blow, close enough to make sure the Lord couldn’t escape. It was reckless, maybe suicidal, but that was fine.

Because the longer the cycle dragged on, the more his points could climb. And the moment the count ticked high enough, Leon Kael would stop running. He would stop retreating.

And then, he would kill the monster.