*Content Warning: This chapter contains mature themes, violence, blood, and morally dark actions. Reader discretion advised.*
After the brutal training, Leon lay on the ground beneath his tree, chest rising and falling like a bellows. His muscles burned, his bones ached, but there was a faint smile on his lips.
"With this routine," he muttered, "I'll definitely become stronger. It really did take everything out of me, though."
He pushed himself upright, rolling his shoulders. The sharp pain from his old wounds had faded into a distant throb. "My injuries from that battle are basically gone. If I fought the empires again right now… I could take them down. I might be the strongest in this world already."
The thought hung in the air.
He snorted. "But should I start acting arrogant just because of that? Being the strongest in this world doesn't mean I can beat a real god."
He remembered the storm‑filled sky, the towering figure wreathed in lightning.
"I'm sure of it now," Leon said quietly. "The God of Lightning couldn't use his full power. If he had gone all out in that fight, I'd be a corpse right now. I'm not that strong. Not yet."
His gaze turned distant. "What if it wasn't just one god? What if two… or five of them came at me together? Would I win?"
He chuckled at his own question, low and humorless. "How ridiculous. There's no way. If they used their full strength, I'd be erased. Even their clones could still kill me."
His fingers curled into fists.
"So I have to become stronger. More, and more, and more… until I can say I'm truly the strongest without lying to myself."
For that, he needed something to chase.
"A goal," Leon decided. "Something that keeps pushing me forward."
The answer came instantly.
"I'll surpass Master."
His eyes sharpened, a savage light flickering within. "One day, I'll become stronger than Master himself. That day will come. I'll make sure of it."
While Leon quietly swore to outgrow the man who had saved him, far away, a kingdom once again sharpened its blades in his direction.
***
In the Eternal Zenith Empire's great hall, tension coiled like a living thing.
Lyria's gaze hardened. "Tell me, Elder," she said, voice dripping with arrogance, "who do you think you are to lecture me?"
The elder bowed his head, face pale but stubborn. "This servant merely speaks out of fear for the empire's future, Your Majesty. If that boy returns stronger, our kingdom may not survive his wrath."
The emperor rubbed his temples. *If this continues, the hall will tear itself apart,* he thought. *But this matter is too important to simply dismiss. What should I do?*
Debate, fear, and pride tangled like threads around Leon's name.
Another elder stepped forward. "Your Majesty, Empress, please consider this calmly. We lost nearly all our elites in that battle. If we provoke him again and fail, there will be nothing left of our power. An apology, or at least a truce, might be the only path to survival."
Lyria scoffed. "Survival? You would have us crawl before a single boy because we were incompetent once?"
"He is not just a boy," the first elder insisted. "He is a monster who fought a god and walked away."
"Exactly." Lyria's eyes flashed. "If we let such a monster grow freely, what happens when he stops being satisfied with killing soldiers and starts looking at thrones?"
Murmurs spread through the hall.
Emperor Kaelen leaned forward on his throne. "If we seek peace, there is no guarantee he will accept it. If we seek war, there is no guarantee we'll win. Either path is filled with risk."
One of the generals, heavily bandaged, spoke up. "Your Majesty, if we move quickly, we may never face him at full strength again. He should still be recovering. If we strike now, with precision, with every resource left to us… we might succeed."
"And if we fail?" another elder asked softly. "We will have given him even more reason to wipe us out."
Lyria lifted her chin. "He already has every reason he needs. We tried to kill him once. Do you truly think he will forget? Waiting only gives him time to heal, grow, and come for us on his own terms."
She looked around the hall, eyes blazing. "At least if we act first, we choose the battlefield—and the story history will remember. Do you want to be known as the empire that hid in fear from one youth?"
Silence pressed in.
The emperor closed his eyes for a moment, then opened them with renewed resolve. "We cannot erase what we have already done," Kaelen said slowly. "But we can decide what we do next."
He looked to the elders and generals alike. "If we sit still, we gamble on his mercy. If we move, we gamble on our strength."
"And glory," Lyria added, lips curving. "If we succeed, we will be the empire that slew the disciple of a demon and a god‑slayer in one body. Our name will be carved into the annals of history."
Kaelen hesitated only a heartbeat longer.
"Very well," he declared. "We will take this risk. Prepare our remaining swordmasters. Gather the hidden troops, the assassins, the last cards we never intended to use. We will hunt Leon again—this time with no half‑measures."
The elders exchanged uneasy glances, but none spoke against the decision.
"For the glory of the Eternal Zenith Empire," Lyria said.
Reluctantly, the hall echoed her words.
***
While the empire finally moved its pieces, Leon sat beneath his tree, eating roasted meat with a simple satisfaction.
"If the empire tries to kill me again," he mumbled between bites, "I'll have no choice but to kill them. I don't care who comes. I'll just keep cutting them down as long as they keep walking into my blade."
He flexed his fingers, feeling the new density in his muscles. "Now that my physique has improved this much, I can crush them easily… as long as no one above the level of a typical swordmaster joins the fight. If someone stronger appears, that's when it gets annoying."
He stared into the fire, thoughts turning darker.
"Maybe I should just kill… or rather destroy every empire," he mused. "That would solve a lot of problems."
The idea hung there, heavy and tempting.
"After that, I need to learn a technique like Master's portal. When he killed that apostle of the gods and ripped open space… I still don't know where he went, but I want that power. Being able to leave any battlefield in an instant… that's real freedom."
Leon finished the last strip of meat and tossed the bone into the flames.
"I also can't let my guard down," he said. "The God of Lightning might come again. Though… I doubt it. I hurt him enough that he shouldn't want a rematch anytime soon. Right?"
He frowned.
"Or maybe he's waiting. Watching. Waiting for me to be heavily injured again so he can crush me in one blow. What a coward that would be."
Leon snorted and stood, brushing ash from his clothes.
"Hmph. Doesn't matter. God, empire, or something worse—if they want me dead, they can line up and see who gets to fail first."
He rolled his shoulders, feeling the fatigue settle in but refusing to rest.
"I should start training again after this. No pauses. No comfort. If they're coming…"
He looked toward the distant horizon, where countless banners would soon rise.
"…then I'll be ready to greet them."
***
**Author's Note:**
If you reached this point, you're a real one.
Leon finally sets his goal—surpassing his own master—while an empire decides to gamble everything on taking him down for glory. Do you think their choice is brave, stupid, or both? And does Leon feel more like a future hero or a disaster walking toward them? Drop a comment (even just an emoji) and share what you think.
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