章 135: 9-15
Chapter 9 - Mayan Temple (1)
Leonel felt a slight dizziness that soon disappeared. He could vaguely feel that his quick recovery was anything but natural, however he didn't have much evidence to back this.
He found himself in a long corridor, dimly lit by flickering torches that hung from the walls. Large irregularly shaped stones formed the bricks that built the surroundings, giving the place the feel of an ancient tomb.
Just as Leonel was about to take a step forward, something completely unexpected happened.
[Subject detected. Leonel Morales, 17]
[Credit: First to enter Sub-Dimensional Zone. Accomplishment recorded]
Leonel stared blankly at the wrist watch on his arm.
[Earth is currently in a state of metamorphosis, ascending from the Third Dimension to the Fourth. Its present state is that of an In Between Dimension. To complete the evolution, certain requirements must be met. The Ascension Empire will rely on its citizens more than it ever has before, Godspeed]
To someone else, maybe these words would have had a calming effect. But to Leonel, his chest tightened as he tried to suppress the desire to simmer with rage.
Leonel didn't know what was going on, but what he did know was that whatever 'metamorphosis' was happening didn't account for this oh so 'helpful' aid on his wrist. This meant that the Ascension Empire knew that this change was coming and did nothing to prepare for it.
No. That wasn't accurate. They had prepared. It was just that they felt the lives of the billions who fell from the skies weren't worthy of protecting. The Empire was capable of creating technology that worked in this 'In Between Dimension', yet they hadn't made it widespread.
Eventually, Leonel's anger turned to laughter, his grip tightening around his metal rod to the point his knuckles turned an unhealthy shade of white.
[Subject: Leonel Morales]
[Ability detected: Sensory Type]
[Ability grade: D]
[Warning, margin of error for subject Leonel Morales is outside reasonable bounds. Only 5% of DNA recognizable. Abnormality recorded. It is advised that subject not trust his life to this data]
[Sub-Dimensional Zone detected: Mayan Tomb. Spanish invasion]
[Sub-Dimensional Zone grade: F]
[Clear requirements: Enter Chief Priest's Sacrificial Room. Save Chief Priest]
[Side Quest: Unable to detect. Scope of system too limited]
[Reward: Unable to detect. Scope of system too limited]
Leonel reined in his rage.
His initial instinct was to smash the watch on his wrist, however he knew this was foolish. His deductions told him that it wasn't normal for one who entered a Sub-Dimensional Zone to gain so much information without doing much of anything.
'If this is a process of a world evolving from the Third to Fourth Dimension, I have a hard time believing that this is the first time such a thing has ever happened. Something about this is too systematic, too planned. It doesn't have the erratic nature one would expect from organic evolution.'
Just how many instances of trial, error and failure were there in the evolution of a species? Too many to count. But something like being teleported into a new sub-dimension and having quests to clear sounded too phony. Leonel would die before believing this wasn't created by someone. And, he also had a feeling that said someone wouldn't expect its new batch of evolutionaries to have technology capable of doing such a thing.
So, Leonel concluded three things.
First, the things that appeared in his mind from his wrist watch were just guesses. They likely wouldn't be 100% accurate. But there was a good chance they would be mostly correct.
Second, if his watch was already struggling with what it deemed an 'F' grade Sub-Dimensional Zone, then it likely wouldn't be useful for very long. Maybe by the time it got to the 'D' grade, it would be completely unable to tell Leonel much of anything.
And third, since his watch was so limited, the likelihood of these changes being caused by the Ascension Empire were incredibly low. But… That didn't stop Leonel from keeping in mind the possibility that the Empire he had grown up in had saved the best 'systems' for those they deemed the most worthy. In such a case…
Leonel took a deep breath.
'Good, then I'll let you stay for now. Once you stop being useful, I won't hesitate to destroy you. Monitoring my movements and giving me nothing in return? I'm not so cheap.'
In the past, destroying this watch was as difficult as ascending to the top of the world. However, Leonel had a feeling that with these changes… The Ascension Empire's control was just that much weaker. Maybe they themselves knew this as well, or why else would they allow so many to die…? Maybe they wanted a more manageable population…
The sound of footsteps suddenly shook Leonel out of his thoughts. What was he doing? He was in the middle of a hostile environment with his life on the line. It was then Leonel remembered something even more horrid.
The Spanish had guns!
'Dammit!'
Without hesitation, Leonel sprinted forward, his mind oddly clear. Every time he passed by a torch, he unceremoniously put out its fire.
'First important point, temples are always built with many false turns and dead end pathways. Second important point, guns from this time period can only fire once as long as I don't give them time to reload. Third important point, my ability is a sensory type, I'll do better in the dark than they can.'
As though greeting Leonel's thoughts with open arms, the echoing footsteps and the sounds of armor clanging bounced off the walls and into Leonel's ears.
It was a magical feeling. Leonel could almost draw a perfect map of the trajectory the sounds followed, etching a path from his position to that of the Spanish with a line of three turns. It was as though he had gained a sonar ability, but it was much more complex than this because the sound wasn't coming from him at all.
Compared to the heavy armor the Spanish wore, Leonel's sneakers were almost completely silent.
'They just split apart, good. One group is headed toward me, there are three of them.'
Leonel's heart beat wildly. He hadn't felt this way since the very first time he stepped onto a football field. The way his sweaty hands slid across his silver rod, the butterflies the flew through his stomach, how his heart seemed to want to burst from his ribcage…
Leonel slammed his back against a wall at the edge of a corner, holding his rod tightly to his body with both hands.
The path he was on was the horizontal line of a 'T', while the Spaniards were walking toward him along the vertical line. He had managed to put out all the torches through the horizontal path, but had only made it halfway through the vertical portion before he was forced to run and hide here.
Luckily, he was correct about his sensory abilities. Making his way through the dark wasn't an issue at all.
Words Leonel couldn't understand entered his ears, causing him to inwardly curse. He knew how to speak three languages. English, French and Latin. He had a choice to learn Spanish, but because Aina chose Latin, he hadn't. Plus, he thought French was the language of love, so he had to learn it, right?
Who knew his hormones would come back to bite him like this?
Throwing these thoughts to the back of his mind, Leonel focused with all his might, steadying his breathing.
He heard the sound of metal scraping on metal, but it was much different from the sounds of armor he had heard before. Following this, the distinct sound of a sword being unsheathed followed.
'That first sound should have been one of them pulling out a torch from the wall…'
Leonel's jaw clenched. A faint part of him had hoped they'd be too stupid to think of this solution. But he knew that was asking for too much. Still, this put him in a better position. It wasn't possible to aim a musket if you only had one hand, let alone reload it. That was one less gunmen he had to worry about.
'Come on… Come on… Turn right… Turn right…'
And of course they turned left.
However, Leonel was ready. As expected, the one holding the torch was in the lead. Without hesitation, Leonel swung down his rod fiercely, aiming for the hand that held the torch.
A swarm of words Leonel didn't understand entered his ears, but he didn't need to be intelligent to know the torch wielding Spaniard was alerting the other two.
In order to properly wield their guns, the Spanish wore a armor that combined aesthetics of the medieval era and leather guards. Of course, these leather guards were on their hands and wrists. With Leonel's rod weighing just a bit over 30 pounds, did the soldier's wrist even stand a chance?
'The barbarians are scuttling around like rats! AGH!'
The torch fell to the ground. Leonel kicked it away as far as he could without hesitation, collapsing the T shaped pathways into darkness once more.
Though Leonel's actions were smooth and without pause, waves were inwardly flooding his heart. He was certain of it, he was several times stronger than he had been in the past. But, his ability wasn't related to the strength of his body, so what was going on?
Leonel didn't have more time to think. The sound of sharply whistling wind rang out in his senses like a blaring horn.
Without hesitation, he dove backward. The feeling of a blade just barely tearing his compression shirt and into his skin played in his head in slow motion.
Sparks flew as the sword hit against hard limestone.
Another cry of pain sounded. They were normal humans, after all. If a mortal man swung a weapon full force at a stonewall, what do you think would happen?
The sword clanged, dropping to the floor. It wouldn't be a surprise if the Spaniard who had attacked broke his wrist just like his companion. But what choice had he had? With them descending into darkness, his only chance was to swing where he had seen Leonel last.
'Two injured, one in full health. Can't let them retreat to the light.'
With a roar, Leonel didn't retreat at all. Raising his rod far above his head, he swung down as hard as he could, bashing it against the head of the Spaniard who had held the torch originally.
Every muscle of Leonel's body flexed to its utmost limit. He squeezed so hard that the line of blood that ran across his chest spurt out like a waterfall.
The sickening feeling of the metal helm bending under his rod made Leonel shudder. For a moment, he froze completely, his hands trembling.
He hadn't thought about it before. But… Were these people real?
Leonel wanted to retch, but he simply didn't have the luxury. As one Spaniard crumpled to the ground, the shifting sound of leather sliding across metal caught Leonel's attention.
'That's the sound of a musket's strap being pulled across chest armor!'
Leonel's mind had completely memorized the appearance of the Spaniard's in the split second the torch had lit them up. He remember instantly that they had all had their rifles strapped to their backs. It was the only thing he could associate this sound with.
'I can't sweep my rod from left to right, I'll end up hitting the wall first…'
Leonel immediately dropped to the ground.
He choked up his grip on his silver rod, sweeping it upward through a pair of legs and turning it like a corkscrew. In a moment, the rod had swept across the back of one knee and the front of another.
As the Spaniard that broke their wrist against the wall tumbled forward and to the ground, the last Spaniard turned to the sound of the noise, blasting their single round.
Unfortunately for him, both his partner and Leonel were on the ground, causing him to miss completely. However, the instant flash of light had allowed him to lock onto Leonel one more time.
His leg swung forward, hitting the kneeling Leonel across the chin.
Leonel's mind spun. It didn't need to be said. The feeling of a metal covered shoe kicking you anywhere wasn't very nice, but this was especially so for the face.
The sound of a sword being unsheathed snapped Leonel out of his stupor. Maybe it was due to the fear of death being too great, but Leonel felt it was something else. When he was transported here, hadn't he recovered from the dizziness incredibly quickly as well?
Leonel's mind worked quickly. His rod was still trapped between the legs of the fallen Spaniard, he didn't have time to pull it out. Plus, pulling it out would bring him closer to the rampaging Spaniard.
Using the momentum of the kick, he allowed himself to fall backward, landing near the sword of the Spaniard who had broken his wrist against the wall. The vivid image of it clanging against the ground had already been mapped in Leonel's mind
Leonel accidentally grabbed the blade, but he could only suck it up.
Flipping it in his hand to the handle, he ran it across the neck of the of the Spaniard he had tripped with his rod. The latter was confused about how he died even as he breathed his last.
In that moment, the last Spaniard was swinging wildly. He knew that Leonel had to be in front of him. If he kept going, he was sure that he'd hit him.
However, his swinging arm suddenly stopped.
Completely shocked, he looked down in the dark, visualizing the sword he knew must have just gone through his heart. Till the end, he had no idea how Leonel had done it through his wild swings. How could he know that every time he swung, he was giving Leonel more and more information about his position…?
Leonel collapsed to the ground, looking up at the darkness of the ceiling above him.
He slammed the back of his head repeatedly against the sturdy stone walls as though trying to forget what he had just done.
His hands fiercely trembled. Even in the dark, he could feel the sticky liquid substance coating his palms. But, there was nothing he could use to wash it off.
Chapter 10 - Mayan Temple (2)
Leonel's breathing was erratic. For a long time, he felt a shortness of breath that didn't match with the abundance of air around him, nor his extraordinary physique. He could run a mile with a sub 5 minute time, yet this single exchange left him in shambles.
Of course, he knew it wasn't because he was that exhausted, but rather because of his emotional state. Even if this was a 'game', it was too real. No matter how much he willed it, the dead bodies around him weren't disappearing.
In fact, Leonel knew the blood on his hands was actually his own. He had cut his palm on the sword he picked up from the ground the wrong way. But it still made him feel dirty.
'Water…'
Leonel knew he had to pull himself together. Who knew how far away the group they split from had traveled. They had gone too far for Leonel to hear their footsteps anymore, but the screams of these Spaniards had obviously been much louder than footsteps.
Steeling himself, Leonel could only push his dark thoughts to the back of his mind. Maybe he was lucky that he was dealing with such a moral dilemma in such a situation, at least he didn't have the luxury to sit and sulk.
After making up his mind, he jogged over to the torch he had kicked away during the fight and brought it over.
Rummaging through the bodies, Leonel found three flat circular shaped containers of water. Without hesitation, he drained two completely before strapping the third to his waist.
The wound on his hand and chest were pretty bad, but none of them seemed to carry bandages with them. Luckily, what they did have were flasks of alcohol. Leonel didn't hesitate to grit his teeth and pour it over his wounds.
Afterward, he left his chest alone. But, for his hand, he snatched the leather guards the Spaniards used for himself. He also slipped on a chest plate and a helm. Of course, he chose the undamaged ones.
He took both muskets from the two Spaniards who had broken their wrists. He had no idea how to reload them. But, he did know how to aim and shoot. Safeties shouldn't have been invented in this era, he didn't think.
Either way, he would get two shots out of them before discarding them.
Finally, he took the two best quality swords with him, changing his silver rod back into a bike. Blades of this era likely lost their edge and chipped really easily. Having more than one, especially for attacking armored warriors, was definitely the smartest move.
Leonel took a seat on his silver framed bike, closing his eyes and steadying himself. Soon, the sound of rushing footsteps reached him once more. However, it seemed the reason they had taken so long to get this close was because they were lost.
After making a mental note to himself to memorize every path he crossed, Leonel's mind flashed with a plan. Not waiting another moment, he got to work. Not even a minute later, he pedaled his bike hard, reaching a dead end quickly.
At that moment, the next group of three appeared. They too had brought a torch with them, noticing the darkened tunnel.
'What the hell is on the floor? Who pissed themselves?'
'Those barbarian bastards!'
It seemed the Spaniards had finally noticed the corpses of their companions.
'Over there!'
One of the Spaniards pointed toward Leonel who was sitting on his bike in the distance. But the reason he had noticed Leonel in the dark at all was precisely because Leonel was holding the same torch he had kicked away in the previous battle.
Unfortunately, by the time they realized what was happening, it was already too late.
A line of fire raced across the stone floors, swallowing the line of alcohol Leonel had drawn and reaching the three Spaniards and the three corpses in a flash.
There was no time to react. A harsh explosion sounded, burying the screams.
Using the flames as a light, Leonel brought a musket forward to aim, his hands trembling. However, he knew he had no choice but to shoot. There was no better opportunity to test the range and accuracy of these weapons. The flames had engulfed all three of them, but it likely wouldn't kill them in a short time.
Steadying his sights as best he could, Leonel fired.
The recoil wasn't as bad as he predicted. In fact, he had overcompensated for it far too much. Still, his aim was terrible. There was little he could do about his trembling arms.
Leonel could actually see the round bullet fly through the air. It was moving at speeds far beyond the limits of humans, but he could inexplicably track it. He didn't even need for it to land to know he had missed.
But that was when the unexpected happened. In their agitated pain, one of the Spaniards fell right into the bullet's path, allowing it to travel directly through his throat.
Even as he crumpled to the ground, Leonel bit his lips so hard he drew blood.
'Come on, Leonel. You're better than this. Maybe this is why that Gene Assessment slotted you in to spend the rest of your life throwing balls. That sort of safe profession is just right for someone as pathetic as you.'
Even as Leonel was berating himself, he still raised his second musket.
This time he learned his lesson. His brain did calculations he wasn't even consciously aware of.
When aiming, you had to not only account for where your target was, but also where said target would be.
With his second shot, the bullet stayed true, flying right through the eye of a second flame covered Spaniard.
Throwing the rifles aside, Leonel gripped the handle of one of his swords. He pedaled down the path lit with flames, not worried that his tires would melt. His bike was far more resilient than that.
Like a horsemen holding a lance from his steed, he sped toward the final Spaniard with a speed nearing 25 mph.
However, even as he did so, he knew he wasn't ready to experience that feeling again. He couldn't stand the disgust he felt as a life dissipated under his own hand.
So, in an act of madness, he threw his sword forward with all his strength.
It perfectly arched in the air, spinning several times before its sharp edge entered the mouth of the screaming soldier. Like that, the hall fell into silence once more. Except this time, Leonel didn't have the luxury of darkness. He could only dully skid his bike to a stop, looking toward the pile of six corpses blankly.
Leonel couldn't help but replay everything that had happened in his mind. The moment he remembered the fact guns of this era needed to be loaded with gun powder during every reload, the rest was simple. Everything from the alcohol flask to his use of the torch was perfectly calculated.
But once again, his actions had taken away more lives. It was fine to plan something like this out in your mind, but actually seeing the results painted a picture of something other than success for Leonel.
His throw in the end was something that really surprised him. He had subconsciously felt that he could count the number of turns his sword would take in the air and exactly where it would land before it even left his hand.
A part of this probably had to do with his years of playing quarterback, but the much larger reason was definitely as a result of his new awakened abilities. He now knew he had great talent for throwing weapons.
If he recalled correctly, the Mayans were well known for their throwing spears. If he could find their weaponry, it would be of great help to him.
Leonel knew he had to slowly adapt to reaping the lives of others. If he didn't get over his apprehension and fear, he was doomed to die one day. The world outside was no longer the world he had come to know, and the Ascension Empire wouldn't protect him.
After yet another deep breath, Leonel took his musket straps off, tossing them to the side. They were no longer useful since he had no idea how to reload them. He would rather not have gun powder blow his arm off.
Withstanding the scorching heat, he pulled his sword from the Spaniard's throat. Then, he pushed his bike backward to gain some distance before building up momentum to leap over the six bodies.
Only taking a single glance backward, Leonel didn't look again, pedaling down a new corridor to blow out a new line of flaming torches.
The cycle continued. Leonel never attacked a group of more than three, always waiting for them to split down different corridors before he made his move.
Eventually, he found a group of Spaniards who carried small hand axes with them which inevitably replaced his throwing swords. Though he could be accurate with either, the hand axes were more convenient. They were lighter and were better weighted, easing the pressure on Leonel's throwing arm.
Aside from this, there also came a point where Leonel carried no less than five or six rifles on his back. His look would have been quite comical had it not been for his pale face. He had hoped that the longer he spent in this Sub-Dimensional Zone, the more accustomed he would become. But the reality was that his guilt only grew.
Finally, on the third day, carrying bloodshot eyes, Leonel descended a flight of stairs far too narrow for his broad shoulders and found the weaponry he was looking for. Unfortunately, it was flooded with Spaniards. Leonel counted at least 12. To make matters worse, there was no way he could use his normal darkness tactic here.
However, there was good news. The narrow stairway he was on was purposely made this way to act as a hidden path. It seemed the Spaniards had yet to notice that the meter tall stone that covered its exit was a false wall.
From here, Leonel was able to peek through the gaps to get a read on the numbers he was facing.
After a moment, he gingerly turned, careful not to make any noise as he made his way back up. Though his sneakers were still silent, he had too many things on him now. It was lucky that the Spaniards were laughing it up and having a great time, likely comparing how many 'barbarians' they had killed, or someone would have already noticed the odd scraping sounds.
Leonel reached the top of the stairs, re-entering the floor he believed he had cleared. There was nothing but darkness and the stench of blood in this place.
Taking out a water jug, he emptied it before tossing it aside. Then, he carefully placed the stone that hid the top of the stairs back into place. He wanted to rest after not sleeping for an entire three days, but doing so in that narrow corridor was foolish. If anyone found it, he was finished.
So, Leonel back away, rounding a few corners to sit in the dark corner of a dead end. His nerves were still tight, but at some point, he grew too tired to avoid sleep any longer. Luckily, he managed to enter the meditative sleep state his father taught him before his consciousness slipped away.
The way he looked now, even if a Spaniard somehow managed to stumble upon him, they'd likely believe he was another of their fallen comrades.
Blood coated Leonel's face and armor, numerous burn marks, bruises and cuts running along what small part of his skin were exposed. His sweat pants were in tatters, suffering several cuts through to his thighs and calves due to his lack of experience and recklessness…
Leonel had no idea that this Sub-Dimensional Zone wasn't meant to be cleared alone. There was a reason four portals had appeared...
He could only cling onto his last bit of sanity as he slept in the darkness.
Chapter 11 - Mayan Temple (3)
Leonel's eyes snapped open. He didn't know how long he had slept for, it was impossible to tell. There were no windows in this temple. He had only roughly guessed that he had been here for three days.
Using his silver rod to stand, he stood to loosen his stiffening limbs.
Leonel's jaw set. His mind had regained its clarity. He hadn't even noticed that his senses had severely dulled the more tired he became. In fact, he felt that he was even sharper than when he first entered this Sub-Dimensional Zone now.
Without a word, he began to get ready.
He took his six rifles, strapping through across his left shoulder than the remaining three across his right.
Two days ago, he had almost lost his life because he trusted that these muskets were always loaded. He ended up aiming and firing one without a bullet, a mistake he could thank for the deep gash in his thigh.
Since then, he learned to tell whether the rifle was loaded or not first. His method seemed simple, but maybe he was the only one on Earth who could do it. There was a very slight weight difference, maybe fractions of a gram, between a loaded and unloaded gun. If a gun was too light, he didn't keep it.
Once the six muskets laid organized on his back, he accounted for the eight hand axes around his waist and finally clutched his silver rod.
With a deep breath, he slowly made his way back toward the hidden path. It seemed that during his sleep, others entered this floor once more through the main stairway. Leonel could only clear them out first in order to avoid any untoward variables.
Though his heart was still heavy, he managed to control his trembling hands this time. Without having to account for his wavering aim, his efficiency reached a new level, his throwing ability especially.
Half a day later, Leonel felt that he had emptied the floor once more. With how many Spaniards he had taken it, it was definitely only a matter of time before their leaders realized that something was wrong.
As expected, when Leonel went to peek on the weaponry, the 12 number he had counted before had increased to 18.
The weaponry was the largest space Leonel had come across to now. It was a rounded room with a single exit. All around, weapons hung from the walls. But, compared to the Spaniards, they were incredibly crude.
The Spaniards turned their noses up at these weapons. Not even a single one had been touched. But, who could blame them. It was obvious that Spanish weapon technology was more than a single level higher.
They had set up camp in this space for only two reasons. One was to stop the Mayans from regrouping and recouping strength. And second was to set up camp.
It seemed that this Sub-Dimensional Zone had deviated from history. There was much more of a stalemate than there should be. An internal battle was taking place within the temple between the two parties.
What Leonel didn't know was that this was only due to his actions. He hadn't wanted to count the number of Spaniards he had killed, but it was over a hundred. There were only two thousand in total. He had single handedly taken down a good percentage of their army.
As a result, the Mayans had been able to put up some resistance. And, due to losing so many soldiers, the Spaniards had taken a step back, trying to re-evaluate the strength of their enemy.
Leonel took a deep breath. When his eyes opened once more, his eyes had completely stilled, glowing in the dark like a predator stalking his prey.
First, he took apart his silver rod. He didn't split it into all three pieces. Instead, he only took a single third of it. Using the small ledge on either side of the narrow staircase, he balanced both ends across it.
It was nearly a perfect fit, just barely over two feet apart. The remaining part of the rod was just over four feet in length, but it was enough. If Leonel was lucky, he wouldn't have to use it at all.
Ducking beneath the bar, Leonel nodded to himself. Then, he began to pour several flasks of alcohol through the small cracks in the false wall, drenching it as quickly as he could.
'Hey, do you smell that? Smells like some good booze, who's holding out?'
'Drunkard. What booze?'
'Wait look over there!'
The highest ranking officer of the Spaniards waved his hand, forcing them to fall silent. He wasn't dressed much differently, but his armor was definitely shinier and he strapped a pike across his back and a long sword strapped to his waist.
Suddenly, the stone was kicked over. It fell with a loud boom, kicking up dust that obscured the dark pathway.
'Enemy attack! Form up!'
A strong WHOOSH followed a flame erupting from the falling stone and the edges it had just been hidden between.
Leonel steadied his breathing, kneeling behind the flames, he aimed his first rifle. He had seen everything he needed in that split second. And still now, he could see faint pictures of the changing situation through the flickering flames.
He knew he didn't have long. The alcohol would be burned away quickly and he didn't have any other sources of fuel with him. But he was already ready.
Through the short one meter high doorway, he aimed toward the leader and pulled the trigger.
BANG!
The leading Spaniard who had just been giving out commands froze, his last words being lost in a spurt of blood that came from his eye.
Leonel didn't pause. The moment he pulled the trigger, he retreated, leaping to up to the ledge above him and to the silver rod piece he laid across them.
He squatted down, balancing on the balls of his feet as he crouched across the silver rod.
As expected, a rain of bullets sounded and instant later, ricocheting off of the steps below Leonel.
'One… two… five… seven… ten… eleven… sixteen… seventeen!'
"No way that barbarian bastard survived that!"
The moment the Leonel locked onto the 17th fired gun, Leonel jumped from his perch, charging through the wall of already waning fire. He would have put his rod back together, but he simply didn't have the time.
He swung the second rifle from his back aiming it with a single arm.
BANG!
He tossed the musket aside even as a Spaniard fell. Without hesitation he pulled out the third rifle.
BANG!
With every breath and step, Leonel pulled out another rifle and another Spaniard fell. Five steps, five breaths, five rifles, five deaths.
Leonel dove across the room the moment he dropped his final musket, making it to the side of the leader he had killed. With inhuman strength, he ripped the rifled from his corpse, his lip twitching when he realized it was too light. How could the leader be the only one without a loaded rifle?
However, the other Spaniards didn't know this. Leonel couldn't allow himself to be surrounded, so he aimed the gun toward the closest soldier, causing him to retreat with fear coloring the eyes hidden behind his helm.
Without hesitation, Leonel tossed the musket aside without bothering to fire, reaching with his now free hand into his belt and pulling out a hand ax.
His back drew tight and his arm cocked back, his hand drawing a silver light across the air as he rocketed the ax forward.
The very same Spaniard who had retreated had his face destroyed in the blink of an eye, falling to the ground lifeless.
Leonel worked quickly. His quick movements hid the dread that loomed over his heart with every life he took.
In a flash, there were only four left.
Leonel picked up the leader's long sword from his corpse, holding it in one hand and his silver rod in the other.
With quick steps he retreated to the secret passageway.
The fear Leonel's marksmanship put into the Spaniard's was profound. Several of them thought of running, but the punishment for retreat was too severe. They could only hold out and hope the noise would capture the attention of the others.
Most of their numbers were working on breaking through the Shrine Room. Only a few of them were tasked with guarding and resting here.
However, when they saw that Leonel had run out of things to throw, they could only steel themselves and charge.
Leonel's heart beat quickly. He had become used to fighting many opponents at once, but that was when they couldn't see him. This was completely different. Not only could they see him, but there was one more than he dared to fight alone even in the dark.
'Calm down…'
Over these several days, Leonel had realized something important. These Spaniards were just normal humans, they didn't have an 'awakened' ability. This was where Leonel's advantage lied.
Leonel didn't wait for them to close in. He had been planning to retreat to the narrow staircase and take them on one at a time, but this wasn't smart. It might give them time to reload their muskets. He had to stay confident and not give them time to think.
In a flash, he ran up to the closest Spaniard. Yelling as though to force all the fear out from his chest, he swung down the long sword with everything he had.
If a swordsman saw him, they'd probably look away so as not to cringe. Not only was Leonel wielding a two handed sword with just one, but his wide stance and telegraphed movements were terrible even for a beginner.
However, this wasn't an anime. No matter how good a mortal swordsman was, there was a limit to how well they could respond to wild movements, especially when their attacker was so much stronger than them.
A scream of agony escaped the Spaniard. His arms hadn't been able to block Leonel's strike.
The long sword cut into his shoulder armor and into his collarbone before stopping. Such an injury left a normal human completely crippled. His death was only a matter of time.
Leonel ignored the aching in his wrist, pulling the short sword from the fallen Spaniard, he threw it with all his might across the room, nailing the closest Spaniard in the chin. The blade split his lower lip and jaw in half, leaving him to fall over — dead.
The whistle of a swinging sword came from Leonel's left, but he was prepared. Raising his silver rod, he braced himself with all of his strength. Remembering what had just happened to the Spaniard he cut down, he knew the danger of failing to block properly.
A sharp clang came. The Spaniard was shocked when he saw that his sword actually chipped against Leonel's seemingly simple rod.
How could the alloys of the 2100's not be far better than those from this era?
The rebound was violent, but Leonel used his larger frame and power to his advantage, recovering quicker and slashing across with his long sword. Another life fell beneath his blade.
This time he had learned his lesson. Cutting through metal was too difficult. This time, he only targeted the exposed vitals, using his great control to emphasize accuracy over power.
Picking up another short sword, Leonel turned his hips quickly and reaped the last Spaniard.
His chest heaved, hot air billowing into and out of him. A scorching feeling filled his throat and lungs, but he didn't have the luxury of resting.
He sprinted with all his might toward the rounded opening of the weaponry. It was easily two and a half meters tall with a width that was just as large. Its door was a stone circle so massive it should take at least ten men to move. But, Leonel had no choice but to do it on his own.
The door was designed to be a size larger than the doorway. As long as he rolled it over from the inside, it would be impossible to open from the outside without destroying the stone first.
The sounds of shouts and footsteps filled Leonel's ears. The time he had left was too little, but he dug deep, pulling every ounce of strength he had left out.
"ARRGGHH!"
Leonel roared with all his might. His senses could pick up on his muscles tearing beneath the pressure, but he had no choice.
He pressed hard against the rolling door, finally feeling it move just the slightest bit.
The footsteps got closer and closer before Leonel could distinctly hear the shift from walking to sprinting.
'The barbarians regained their weaponry! Stop them from closing the door!'
Under the strain, blood flowed from Leonel's nose. His teeth clenched tightly against each other to the point his gums began to bleed.
A final roar escaped his lips, snapping the door into its closed position just as a Spaniard attempted to dive through. The ghastly sight of a man being cut in half was the last sight Leonel saw before he blacked out.
Chapter 12 - Mayan Temple (4)
Leonel awoke with his body on fire, the slight whiff of something catching his attention. The smell made his stomach growl furiously, his mouth almost dripping with water despite how dry it felt.
Leonel didn't know how his friends were being sustained, but he did know that he hadn't felt the need for water until he woke up. And, now that it had been over four days since the last time he ate, he finally couldn't suppress his hunger anymore.
It was only then that Leonel realized that the Spaniards had been roasting a full pig when he initially entered. He must have not smelt anything before because it had just started to cook.
Leonel struggled to pull himself up, peeling all the heavy armor he wore from his body. He hadn't felt this light in a very long time.
Luckily, since there was no one to tend to the fire, the embers had died off while Leonel slept, sparing the pig from being overcooked.
It was inevitable that it was still burnt in some places, especially since no one had been there to turn it, but Leonel could hardly bother to care. He ripped off a leg, devouring the meat madly.
Initially, he had believed that a leg or two would be enough. But before he realized what was happening, he had already cleaned away half of the pig. Leonel had always been a big eater, but it was always within reason. Something like eating half of a 20 kilogram pig was far beyond his means.
"I want you to find that damned entrance! There's no way that barbarian entered from the front, there must be a hidden entrance! Look at how many of our people those savages have killed!"
Words Leonel couldn't understand drifted from the hidden entrance. It became obvious quickly that he didn't have much time. All those who saw him come out of the hidden staircase were already dead. But, it was only a matter of time before they started looking for false walls.
Because Leonel had knocked down the false wall on this side without replacing it, it was much easier to hear things than it had been in the past.
Moving quickly, Leonel replaced his armor with that of the dead leader's. He was going to pour some more alcohol on his wounds first, but he was shocked to find that many of them had faded. In fact, the aches in his body from his torn muscles had become quite dull as well.
'… Food. It must be food.'
Leonel bit his lip. Where else would he get food so easily? There was no point in carrying this pig with him because it would go bad in at most a few more days. Plus, considering the pace at which he ate it, it wouldn't last that long either.
'The only option is to continue to steal food or to leave this temple…'
Leonel couldn't come up with the perfect choice now. He had to hurry.
'I came here for… there it is, the atlatl.'
Atlatl's were essentially sling shots for throwing spears. They were a wooden attachment one could slot a spear or 'long dart' into to gain more leverage. Then, using the same throwing motion one was used to, it was possible to throw more than double the distance and with much more speed and force.
To think such a thing was invented over 20 000 years ago, even before the era of the Mayans.
Leonel abandoned his hand axes, using the belt he had stolen from a Spaniard to slip in a few atlatl's. Considering they were reusable, it was unnecessary to have more than one. However, Leonel had learned to plan for the unexpected.
He kept four atlatls with him on one hip and strapped a short sword on the other. He would have taken the leader's long sword, but he had his reasons for not.
Along the walls, countless barrels of throwing spears fitted for the atlatls. Well, to call them spears was a bit inappropriate. They looked like sturdy arrows one might fire from an large-scaled crossbow.
However, Leonel obviously couldn't carry them all. He realized after carrying around his 30 lb silver rod for so long that his body's limits were far higher than they had been previously. However, it wasn't to an exaggerated extent.
Thinking to this point, Leonel chose a square backpack shaped of wood. It was about a meter and a half in length and by Leonel's estimations could hold about 50 atlatls darts or spears.
He filled it quickly. His initial instinct was to try and overfill it, but he knew this would be foolish. If he failed to pull out a spear at a critical time, it would be too late to regret it.
'Let's test it.'
Leonel took out one of his atlatls, fitting an extra spear to it, he held its handle like a javelin.
The spear sat atop the atlatls. As for the atlatls itself, it attached to the end of the spear, allowing it to sit upon it. The body of the atlatls, which Leonel held, curved back around like an 'S' drawn much too tall and lanky.
Flexing his arm, Leonel bowed his body and launched the spear. But the results left him stunned silent.
The metal tip of the spear stuck into the stone wall, vibrating back and forth wildly.
'It covered a 20 meter distance in 0.4 seconds. That's an average velocity of 50 meters per second or 180 kilometers an hour. It was even still accelerating when it hit the wall, so it still had more left. The effective range is easily anything within 200 meters…'
Leonel sucked in a cold breath. First he was surprised at his sharp calculations, but he was even more surprised at just how much the atlatls improved his throwing ability. Such a simple technology, yet so effective.
Snapping out of his stupor, Leonel ripped the meter and a half long dart from the wall and hid it within the barrels of spears. In case the Spaniards made it to this room again, he didn't want them to be able to figure out his limits.
After that, he dug deep and lifted the stone that covered the hidden entrance back up and into its place. This way they wouldn't be able to tell which path he came from. Of course, he only did this after retrieving the last third of his silver rod.
That was right, Leonel had already found another hidden entrance in this very room. In fact, he counted a total of five. It could only be said that the Spanish were too negligent. Either that, or his senses were simply too sharp.
Following this, Leonel left through the hidden pathway with the least activity on the other side, slipping away to unleash hell on the Spaniards.
In the following weeks, he mapped every floor of the temple with the exception of the lowest which he believed must have housed the Sacrificial Room.
As time passed, Leonel's senses grew sharper. He could hear footsteps from further away, and from those footsteps he could tell everything from the height of the soldier in question to their weight. At the same time, his control over his body reached great heights. He no longer threw will his full power every time, only using just enough to maintain his stamina and slay his opponent.
About two days after he left the weaponry, he did manage to find a path outside. Once he had mapped out the hidden pathways he could use to reach it, he exited frequently, hunting for his own meals before returning.
He realized that he simply had no chance fighting the Spaniards from the outside. Without the ability to take advantage of guerrilla tactics, it was a futile effort.
Unfortunately, as time passed, the Spaniards grew more and more wary, making it difficult for Leonel to find small groups to attack. As a result, he had no choice but to begin assaults on groups of four, five, eventually even groups of ten were the smallest he could find.
However, at the same time, his skill grew more pronounced. His throwing ability was already at a near unconscious level, but it was his combat ability that took the greatest leap forward. He learned to keep his movements reserved, yet firm. Simple, yet potent.
He had never been formally taught in any martial arts, but as his mind spun and his deductive abilities deepened with his growing senses, he felt as though it didn't matter.
With every encounter, a new possibility was stored in his memory. With this additional data point, he would adjust his fighting style ever so slightly to account for it. Months later, Leonel no longer had to rely on his throwing prowess to gain victory against large groups. Even when battling a group of ten Spaniards, the combination of his inhuman senses and battle experience was enough to take them on.
By this point, Leonel was certain that his wrist watch's assessment of him bordered on fraudulent. He wasn't entirely sure how the grading system worked, but if others had higher grade abilities than what he was already able to accomplish, it would be far too exaggerated.
Leonel reached a point where with a single glance, he was able to categorize his opponent by giving them an athleticism score. He broke down his categories into Strength, Speed, Agility, Coordination and Stamina.
Strength was simple, just how much power a person could generate. However, with how many different ways strength could be applied, it became incredibly complex. Leonel chose to weigh this category by how much power a person could generate by swinging, throwing or using their best attack. In this case, it would be how hard a Spaniard could swing their sword or stab their pike.
Speed was something Leonel categorized as straight line running velocity.
Agility encompassed both acceleration, speed in changing direction, and how quickly a person could use their weapon — how fast a sword swung, etc.
Coordination was mostly hand-eye coordination. How precise a person was in using their strength, speed and agility. How accurate were the swings of their weapons. So on, and so forth.
Finally, stamina was the most straight forward. How long could you maintain your optimal fighting strength?
Leonel ranked all of these from a scale of 0 to 1, where 0 was having this ability completely crippled and 1 represented the pinnacle of the human race. This pinnacle was something Leonel used the limits of his own body to extrapolate and estimate.
By Leonel's estimates, an Olympic athlete of Earth would have a 0.5 in the category they needed the most for their event.
As for the Spaniards, they averaged about 0.4 in every category. And Leonel…
[Strength: 0.67; Speed: 0.51; Agility: 0.55; Coordination: 0.82; Stamina: 0.63]
After a few more weeks passed, Leonel felt it was necessary to add a sixth category: Reactions. Unexpectedly, it ended up being his highest 'stat', sitting at 0.91. This category not only encompassed reaction speed, but also factored in the instinctual movements battle experience gave you. Of course, most of the reason Leonel's Reaction was so high wasn't due to his experience, but because of his inhuman senses.
Leonel found that when he broke down his opponents systematically with his self-created method, taking them down became even easier. He shamelessly targeted their weaknesses without remorse.
For those with great speed and agility, he overwhelmed them with strength. For those with great strength, he overwhelmed them with speed and agility. For those with great stamina, he left them to last, allowing them to tire themselves out first before he dealt the finishing blow.
Before Leonel realized it, he had grown numb to the slaughter. After breaking down their lives to mere numbers floating in his mind, it suddenly became easier to do what needed to be done. At the very least, it became easier to use the excuse that the Spanish committed terrible atrocities in this era to bury his guilt.
Emboldened by his growing strength, Leonel began to assault the Spanish from within the temple and in the camps outside under the cover of dark.
Their numbers continued to fall quickly. Leonel had no idea how much time he had spent in this Sub-Dimensional Zone, but it was enough for the Spaniards to start calling him 'El Diablo'.
He might not have known much if any Spanish, but he definitely knew what that meant. It was a name that let his actions over the last months truly set in.
His numbness turned to cold.
On yet another seemingly monotonous day, a drastic change finally occurred. With the number of Spaniards drastically lowered, the Mayans holed up within the Sacrificial Room burst out, leading a mighty counter attack of their own.
Leonel watched the battle play out from one of the few small windows he had found in the temple. He felt a wave of relief overcome him. Maybe he would be able to head home soon…
But, that was when another question struck him. Did he have a home to return to now?
Sighing, Leonel made his way through the network of hidden tunnels. A few had been found by the Spaniards in this time, but many of them were still intact.
Slowly but surely, he finally entered the only floor he hadn't. Victory seemed close at hand, but Leonel knew that the Chief Priest was currently in the greatest danger now. He had led enough football comebacks to know that people were the most vulnerable when they believed victory was at hand. So, Leonel chose to watch silently behind a false wall.
He had found this tunnel long ago but had never exited it. There was no point. He couldn't communicate with the Mayans since he couldn't speak their language, so it was better if he helped from the shadows.
But, who knew that the first things Leonel would see was an old man with wrinkled brown skin, standing over the body of a youthful beauty who seemed to be trying her best not to cry.
Her nude form could just barely be seen by Leonel, as could the knife the Chief Priest held high in the air as he chanted something he couldn't understand.
Leonel was so stunned that his face drained of all color. That girl was about to die, and the reason she would was in part his fault. Had he not…
No, that didn't make sense. Wouldn't her fate at the hands of the Spaniards be even worse? Just forget it, they're not real people anyway. Just finish the quest.
Protect the Chief Priest… Just protect the Chief Priest…
Before Leonel knew what he was doing, he had kicked down the false wall in a maddened rage. Guilt he had suppressed in his heart for months came spilling over in a bloody killing intent built from the deaths of hundreds of Spaniards.
His left arm reached into the container of long darts, his right gripping his atlatls as he hooked in his first attack.
"Die!"
This was the first time in Leonel's life he truly wanted to kill. Even with Conrad, his intent hadn't truly been there.
But the result was far beyond his expectations. The chanting Priest turned toward him with a stunned expression, but reacted quickly, a barrier of something Leonel couldn't see appearing to block the piercing spear.
Leonel stood frozen.
[Chief Priest]
[Strength: 0.12; Speed: 0.13; Agility: 0.15; Coordination: 0.42; Stamina: 0.33; Reactions: 0.73]
Not only was the Priest's reaction the highest Leonel had ever seen aside from his own, it was the highest score Leonel had ever given, period. On top of this… Leonel suddenly felt that he was missing a seventh category…
Just what was that wall of energy?
Chapter 13 - Priest (1)
The Chief Priest wore a tall head guard, beautifully decorated in all sorts of bright feathers and fabrics. His chest was bare except for the cape that hung across his collarbone with finely polished jewels and precious metals. His lower body was covered by a skirt which first wrapped around him like a loin cloth before extending into two long pieces between his legs that stopped just below his knees.
He had no weapons aside from the crude sacrificial dagger that seemed formed of obsidian. However, he still felt like the most dangerous opponent he had ever come across.
The Priest began to speak words Leonel had no ability to understand. Still, the latter's nerves remained tight, whatever senses he had honed to this point being pushed to their upper limits. The strain even caused blood vessels in his eyes to burst, coloring his whites in red.
With little more hesitation, Leonel knocked another atlatls dart. This time he used more power, pulling back with as much as 50% of his strength.
Out of habit, he hadn't gone all out with the first strike because the physical stats of the Priest were so low. But now he knew this wasn't a normal enemy.
Seeing that his attempts at communication failed, the Priest's brows furrowed as he raised his dagger once more. But this time, he aimed it toward Leonel, chanting with a calm rhythm.
The nude young lady strapped to the table watched on blankly, her gaze, once filled with fear, turning dull. She seemed to believe that no matter how this all ended, her fate was already sealed.
Leonel's spear shattered against an invisible barrier once more, but this time Leonel could faintly feel it condensing. It wasn't a feeling as sharp as his touch, sight or hearing, but it was there.
'A sixth sense?'
Suddenly, Leonel dropped down at his fastest speed. A moment later, a loud boom shook the Sacrificial Room's wall, leaving a deep impact.
A cold sweat matted Leonel's back as he hopped up, sprinting to the side as he knocked another dart.
He dove forward, sliding his arm across the air sideways and causing another dart to whistle across the air with a sharp sound.
'Dammit, I thought I would only have to fight normal humans in this place. Could it be that ancient humans found these awakened abilities too? Or maybe is it that these Sub-Dimensional Zones aren't as historically accurate as I originally believed?'
[Anomaly detected… Recalculating…]
[Sub-Dimensional Zone detected: Mayan Tomb. Spanish Invasion]
[Sub-Dimensional Zone grade: C]
[Clear requirements: Enter Chief Priest's Sacrificial Room (Complete). Save Chief Priest]
[Side Quest: Unable to detect. Scope of system too limited]
[Side Quest: Defeat 100 Spaniards (Complete) … Reward pending]
[… Recalculating…]
[Side Quest: Unable to detect. Scope of system too limited]
[Side Quest: Defeat 1000 Spaniards (Complete) … Reward pending]
[… Recalculating…]
[Hidden Quest: Defeat the Chief Priest]
[… Recalculating…]
[Reward Upgraded]
[Reward: Unable to detect. Scope of system too limited]
[It is recommended that subject, Leonel Morales, complete this quest with a minimum of three other individuals. Subject's D-grade ability is too low]
For a moment, Leonel almost forgot his rage toward the Priest. He wanted nothing more than to throw this broken watch across the walls till it broke. How was this considered a system? How could it be anything other than a jumbled mess?
Instead of telling him that he should enter in a team of 4, it waited until it was already too late to tell him. Instead of telling him what the side quests were, it waited until he had already completed them to tell him. And, it couldn't even get the grade of this Sub-Dimensional Zone right. What absolute bullshit.
'Forget it! Focus.'
Leonel's father's note told him that his father had to suppress his awakening during his youth. What if other people besides him had experienced this as well? The only problem with this theory was that his father had also said his constitution was different than others… But who was to say there weren't others like him?
Leonel's dart was blocked once more, but his sharp senses caught the fact the Priest was forced to slide back, albeit a minuscule amount.
With a flip, Leonel took advantage of his own centrifugal force, landing on his feet and not losing a single dart carried on his back.
'I only have 47 more darts. If I can't see any results by the time I have 25, I need to take the risk and get closer.'
Leonel maintained his strength perfectly, never using more than 50%. He realized that this Priest was entirely reliant on his odd energy. The old man getting on in years didn't make any large movements. Aside from shifting his feet every so often to face Leonel and raising his arms, he did nothing else.
'It can't be endless, I don't believe that he can do this forever.'
Suddenly, Leonel felt a strong sense of danger from his back.
Immediately he knew he had made a mistake. He dodged the Priest's last strike, but he hadn't heard a loud boom to his back like he had heard every time previously. He hadn't accounted for the possibility that the Priest could control the trajectory of his attacks!
Leonel managed to leap out of the way just in time, but his pack of long darts didn't survive.
The sound of splintering wood followed the ugly expression Leonel wore. Just like that, the 40 some odd darts he had left were shattered to pieces, leaving the Priest grinning an ugly yellow toothed smile.
Leonel sprung upward a moment later, running for his life.
Without having to divert his attention toward Leonel's darts, the Priest completely unleashed his strength.
Leonel dodged like a mad man sprinting around the room as though he was on a racetrack and not in a temple. His mind spun trying to think of solutions.
'First important point, every strike takes 2 seconds to charge and fire. Second important point, it only seems possible to control one strike at once. Controlled strikes take 5 seconds to charge but can be prepared as lesser strikes are being fired. However, a normal energy strike cannot be formed while the controlled strike is being maneuvered.
'Third important point, these strikes carry a strength of 0.82. I should adjust his strength before I figure out how to rank this seventh category. The speed of these energy strikes is at 0.89. The agility of the controlled strikes are only at 0.46.
'If I want to keep surviving, I need to dodge before he sends out his strike or I'm finished. Luckily I've overestimated the Priest's coordination. If his control over his energy strikes are factored in, it's dropped by 0.03 to 0.39.'
Leonel continued to run, taking out three silver rods he had strapped to his left hip and twisting them together, discarding his atlatl completely.
In a smooth motion, he shrugged off what remained of the box of darts, leaving about 20 pounds behind.
Gripping his silver rod, Leonel abruptly changed directions. The moment he ducked the most recent controlled energy strike, he leaped into the air toward the Chief Priest, his silver rod morphing into a bicycle before he landed on the ground.
The Priest was stunned for a moment. Where could he had ever seen such technology? Luckily for Leonel, his silver rod worked with folding technology and not electrical technology, or it would have lost its morphing ability long ago.
The Sacrificial Room was quite large, being about 200 meters in diameter. The distance between Leonel and the Priest was currently just over a hundred meters. Even if he ran full tilt, it would still take him over nine seconds to make it. However, with some momentum built up and his bike, he could cut it to eight.
'One second… two!'
Leonel tilted his bike to the side so far that his knee scrapped against the ground. Sparks flew as the metal fitting he placed over it skid.
With an abnormal feat of strength, Leonel slammed his palm into the ground, pushing himself and his bike back upright. He had fought with his life on the line for too long to feel the same shuddering nervousness. There had been nothing but him and his own thoughts for months. There was no way he was going to lose to the first person he consciously chose to kill.
'The next strike will very likely target my bike itself… two!'
Leonel's thighs flexed, his bike hopping just over meter in the air. His instincts from countless battles kicked in. All things considered, only having to account for just one opponent at a time was marginally easier despite the godlike abilities of this Priest.
'Here it comes.'
The controlled strike finished charging, shooting toward Leonel like a bullet.
Vaguely formed in Leonel's head, he could see the difference almost as though they were vibrant colors of their own. His eyes were slowly gaining the ability to see the shifting energy through the air, the pale fog circulating around the Priest.
Maybe if this was really a game and not real life, Leonel would get a notification achievement about awakening this level of sight before even gaining mastery over the energy.
The energy sped toward him. But this time, it was no longer a vague feeling Leonel got. He could see it cutting through the air from his right, curving for his head while slicing down in an arching path.
If Leonel jumped, it would destroy his bike. If he ducked it would take off his head.
The Priest likely realized that Leonel was previously only able to get a vague sense of where his energy was coming from due to the fact Leonel had taken more drastic actions than what was necessary.
Not only did he start taking control of the energy strike before it met Leonel this time, but he also actively dissipated its energy, trying to confuse Leonel about its exact location.
Unfortunately, the Priest could have never imagined that Leonel's senses would evolve once more at this very moment. Even more unfortunately, Leonel was well aware how low the agility of the controlled energy strike was.
Leonel suddenly skidded his bike to a grinding halt, the tail of his back wheel spinning to the front and whipping around.
His maneuver was perfectly timed. The controlled strike sped by his right side across his face and out into the distance toward the left.
The Priest's eyes widened as he quickly tried to control the energy strike to turn back, but Leonel's bike had already finished its spin and furiously sped forward. Though in a straight line the energy strike had a speed of 0.89 and Leonel's speed was only 0.51, there were two important factors Leonel had already considered.
First, the time it took for the energy strike to slow, turn around, then gain its top speed once more was long due to its low agility. And, second… Leonel's speed on his bike obviously just wasn't a mere 0.51 anymore.
The Priest was too late to realize this. Leonel was already 2 seconds away and he still hadn't abandoned his controlled energy strike. He didn't have enough time to prepare another strike.
In a panic, the Priest grabbed the naked girl on the table and threw her toward Leonel who had just unsheathed a sword.
Shocked, Leonel squeezed the hand-breaks of his bike as hard as he could catching the girl in the air.
'Dammit!'
Analyzing the situation, Leonel knew his time sensitive plan was ruined. He also realized something else. The Priest's strength was too low to throw a girl who must have weighed at least 110 pounds across 10 meters to him. That meant the Priest had another method of amplifying the strength of his body directly.
In that instant, the Priest's strength stat rose to… 0.97!
'The Priest still doesn't know I attacked him to protect this girl. If he knows this, he'll use it against me.'
Leonel recovered from his apprehension quickly, battle instincts he had honed for months kicking in as he apologetically dropped the girl to the ground without hesitation. It might have been cruel, but a drop of a less than a meter was better than whatever attack she would have to suffer from the Priest otherwise.
His plan worked just as intended. The Priest completely ignored the girl, believing that Leonel wouldn't care about her life one way or another. However, by now, he had already prepared another strike.
Leonel clicked the button on his bike, turning it back into a pole and rolling out of the way.
It was already too late to build up momentum with his bike again, he had to cross the last few meters himself.
Chapter 14 - Priest (2)
Leonel's senses were like sparks running through his body. He could feel his Reactions increase again, reaching 0.93.
With another dodge, he entered the two meter radius of the Priest, swinging downward with all his might.
'His controlled strikes are interrupted when he has to form a shield… But if the shield is made, it can sustain itself for a period while he creates the next…!'
A sharp reverberating strength traveled through Leonel's body as his silver rod violently crashed against the Priest's barrier. It was painful, but his body was resistant. The glow in his eyes only grew fiercer when he saw the barrier give way a bit.
The Priest's next shot was at point blank range, but Leonel's reactions were too quick. The former's arm had only barely twitched when Leonel shifted his body, dodging the next strike.
At such a close distance, the controlled shots had become meaningless. With their poor agility, if Leonel timed a dodge well enough, the Priest could end up hurting himself.
'He can only shoot these strikes of energy from the hand wielding his dagger. But is that true? Or is it superstition? When he threw the girl over, he clearly used a hand without the dagger in it…'
The Priest's arm suddenly shot forward. Maybe believing that his shield would be down soon, he preemptively struck, his strength soaring past his base stats once again.
But Leonel was ready. With the Priest's poor coordination, catching Leonel off guard was too tall a mountain to climb. At the same time, however, the Priest was more clever than Leonel gave him credit for.
The instant his arm punched toward Leonel, another strike of energy was sent forth. Except this time, there was no two second wait like Leonel was expecting.
Caught completely off guard, Leonel's eyes widened in shock. In those split seconds, he managed to tell that the strike was shooting forward at a speed of 0.94 and it was completely impossible for him to dodge.
'That dagger… it can charge and store attacks too… Shit.'
Leonel managed to shift his shoulder out of the way of the Priest's punch, but the flash of energy barreled into his left hip, treating Leonel's armor like scrap metal and fracturing his hip bone before its strength dissipated.
A cold breath rushed through Leonel's teeth as he spun like a top. He had never felt such excruciating pain in his lifetime. He was certain that the him of just a few months ago would blackout in an instant.
'… If he has another one…'
Leonel's heart trembled. But luckily, even with his vision growing foggy, he could sense the Priest gathering energy once more. Whether it was because his dagger's ability had a timer, or because he didn't feel it was necessary to use it again, or maybe because he couldn't, it didn't matter.
With a wince, Leonel collapsed to the ground, but he had already pulled out another atlatl.
All this time, the Priest had completely forgotten about his ability to throw. How could he not, Leonel made a big show of throwing his atlatl away as though it was useless to him. Those action made the Priest completely miss the fact that Leonel had three more to his right hip. And just now, he just so happened to have landed by one of the darts the Priest blocked when he first entered this place.
As for whether it was by coincidence or not… If someone asked his best friend James… He would emphatically choose not.
Leonel took control of his senses, forcefully sealing the pain in his hip from traveling to his brain.
Rolling over, he plucked the damaged dart from the ground and fitted it into his atlatl.
By the time the Priest noticed that something was wrong, it was already too late. He was in the middle of conjuring another energy strike and he would have to cancel it in order to form a shield. But that singular second was all Leonel needed.
With a roar that expelled every drop of energy he had left, Leonel balanced himself on his only good hip and butt, angling his torso up as he finally threw his first full force spear toward the Priest.
The speed was blinding. It was as though a line of brown had been drawn from Leonel's arm to the Priest's neck. The splintered wood of the dart lodged into the latter's throat, causing a fountain of blood to rain down as the Priest collapsed, his dagger falling along with him.
Seeing this, the last bit of will that held Leonel together collapsed. He fell back, a familiar pain returning to his left hip that almost made his eyes roll back.
He knew he couldn't stay. The Mayans had gone out to fight, but there was no telling when they'd be back. He needed to move.
'Has the quest ended? Send me out of here.'
[Sub-Dimensional Zone detected: Mayan Tomb. Spanish Invasion]
[Sub-Dimensional Zone grade: C]
[Clear requirements: Enter Chief Priest's Sacrificial Room (Complete). Save Chief Priest (Failed)]
'Oh for fuck's sake. It can't be that they won't teleport me out because I failed, right?'
If he had the strength, he would definitely smash this watch now regardless of the consequences.
Breathing heavily, Leonel rolled to his right again. He found his silver rod to his side and gripped it. Using it as a crutch, he slowly pulled himself up, relying on his one good leg.
He slowly made his way to the dead Priest, pulling the fallen dagger to his side and wasting what must have been at least a good ten minutes picking it up. He didn't know how it worked, or if he could even use it, but he knew it held some power in the eyes of the Mayans without a doubt. Maybe if they came rushing here, he could scare them away with it.
Finally, Leonel hobbled to the still naked girl who sat dazed on the ground. Now that the fight was over, his teenage hormones seemed to want to kick in. She was truly a beauty with delicate brown skin, though it was now covered in bruises and scrapes. She should have been around 20 years old, so though she was young, she still held a maturity to her that too easily swayed boys as young as Leonel.
However, Leonel snapped out of it, trying his best to avert his eyes from her most treasured places though she didn't seem to care anymore.
"Are you alright?" Leonel asked.
The moment he did, he started kicking himself. She couldn't understand a word he was saying, what the hell was wrong with him? If Aina saw him babbling like a fool here, she'd never talk to him again.
The young woman seemed to shake out of her daze, looking up at Leonel from her seated position as though shocked he was before her. Still, what shocked her even more was his kind gaze. She hadn't seen such a thing in a long while. Even her own parents had only looked toward her with sadness and grief after they learned she was the chosen virgin for the Chief Priest's sacrifice.
Though Leonel's face was mostly obscured by his metal helmet, it was still the best she had seen in a long time.
She reentered her daze for another long while as she recalled what happened. Looking toward the Priest's dead body, her body suddenly started to tremble.
Her breath quickened, her breasts undulating beneath the far too fast beating of her heart.
Leonel snapped out of his embarrassment and bent down with a worried expression.
"It's alright, you'll be fine now."
Leonel knew she couldn't understand him. But he hoped that a soothing voice would do something.
However… What he didn't expect was for his heart to stop beating completely when her gaze met his own next.
It was an inhuman gaze. A reddish, devilish stare that looked like a madwoman intent on seeing the world burn.
She shrieked, lunging at Leonel's neck with both hands. No matter how quick Leonel's reflexes, with almost one half of his body being completely useless, and with how close the two were, there was absolutely nothing he could do.
A sharp pain shook Leonel's body as he fell to his back. The breath was knocked out of him as he gasped in shock. But he noticed a second later that he couldn't breathe. His throat was completely sealed by this seemingly frail girl.
She was almost like a rabid dog, snarling and screaming as she squeezed with all her might. It was as though the only wish she had in this world was for Leonel to die.
Leonel was in shock. Hadn't he just saved her? What was she doing? Even if she didn't thank him, she shouldn't be trying to kill him, right?
Leonel's eyes reddened both due to a lack of oxygen and a slowly building anger. He didn't have to step out and save her life. In fact, his quest didn't ask him to anyway.
Because of her, months of toil and pain were completely wasted, yet she was trying to kill him? How dare she?!
His silver rod and the dagger still gripped in either arm, all Leonel had to do was drive the dagger into her ribcage. Just like that, she would be dead and he could breathe again.
His hand raised, his emotions bubbling over, but that was when his gaze met hers again.
He could see them. The tears falling from her eyes, the sheer desperation. He could even faintly see the glint of his knife in the corner of her eye, something that made him certain she saw it. All she had to do was drive her knee into his shattered hip and he would probably lose himself to pain, unable to do much of anything.
Yet she did nothing. It was as though she was hoping he would just end her life.
Leonel felt his vision blackening, his dagger still raised in the air. His hand trembled… He knew that her delicate skin wouldn't be able to last even a split moment against the sharp edge of the blade, yet he couldn't bring himself to do it.
His hand fell back to the ground, his body finally succumbing to his injuries and lack of oxygen. As his consciousness faded, he could only see a sea of black.
'Maybe this is just what I deserve…'
[Side Quest: Defeat 1000 Spaniards (Complete) … Reward pending]
In his last moments, this was what he thought of.
'Defeat'. What a nice way to put it. In reality, he had slaughtered them all.
Were they fake? Leonel could no longer fool himself into believing this. The emotions that colored that girl's eyes… They were too real. He could almost peer into her soul and see through her secrets, her insecurities… How could they be fake?
'Oh, today's my 18th birthday…' Leonel thought. '… I guess I'm an adult now, right? You don't have to feel bad about my death then, dad… you officially finished raising me… I'm no longer… your responsibility…'
Leonel no longer had the strength to form anymore thoughts. So, he slipped away.
The naked girl sat over his torso in a daze, looking from Leonel's handsome face and to the dagger he hadn't used and back again. Now that his helm had been knocked off in his fall backward, she could see him clearly. She was stunned to find that he was even younger than she was.
The tears that fell from her cheeks grew into a torrent, her savage shrieks turning to maddening sobs until she collapsed, unconscious.
It was then that a white light enveloped Leonel and his body disappeared.
[Quest cleared. Subject Leonel Morales being sent to —]
The wrist watch's mechanical voice cut off. Clearly, wherever Leonel was headed, it had no ability to exist.
Chapter 15 - Rewards (1)
Leonel was beginning to see a new pattern in his life that he wasn't very fond of.
Battle to the point of death. Fall unconscious. And finally, wake up without knowing where the hell you were.
Once again, Leonel found himself in a similar situation. Except this time, it was even weirder than appearing atop a Mayan temple, if you could believe it.
He sat on the ground, or what he perceived was the ground, in a blank white space. If it wasn't for some kind of gravity telling him which way was down, he would have a hard time distinguishing just which direction was which.
To make matters weirder, it was hard to tell if the ceiling was a centimeter from his head, or if it was miles away. Was there even a ceiling? He wasn't sure.
However, maybe it was due to his ability, but Leonel found that he adapted quite quickly. Soon, that feeling of disorientation faded and he began to slowly stand with the help of his silver rod.
'Hold on…'
Just when Leonel was feeling that the process was too easy, he realized that his hip was no longer broken. In fact, he felt better than he ever had in his entire life. The only discomfort he felt in his hip was due to his deformed armor pressing into it.
Without much of a choice, Leonel took it off. He wasn't sure where he was, and equally unsure if he still needed to be alert. But, this armor was no longer any good to him in this state.
'Wait… Why am I alive? Unless… I'm not?'
This sort of white space, wasn't it just like every stereotype of heaven he had ever read about? Maybe he really was already dead.
Leonel sighed. After unbuckling his armor, he set it aside. He really did smell quite terrible, but after so many months, it had stopped bothering him as much. His sweat pants and compression shirts hadn't lasted, so he was currently wearing so odd leather pants he snatched from a dead soldier. His chest was fitted with chain mail, but other than that, it was bare.
To sum it up, he was a mess.
'My scars seem to be gone too…'
The number Leonel had accumulated were definitely not few. His body had become a canvas of bullet wounds and blade scars, but they had vanished.
"Oh? It's quite rare for someone to regain their bearing so quickly in this place."
The sudden voice snapped Leonel out of his own thoughts. His tension still running high, his neck practically broke off from his torso turning toward the sound, his silver rod and dagger being gripped tightly.
"Whoa there. It wouldn't be the first time someone attacked their Guardian, but I'd prefer not to be added to that list, please and thanks."
A handsome man that seemed carved of precious stone had appeared a few meters from Leonel. He was more perfect than any human should have been. Leonel had a hard time believing that he was anything other than an ascended being. He somehow managed to wear a gold plated armor without looking absolutely ridiculous to a man of the modern era like Leonel.
"Guardian?"
"Mm, yes." The man said. "It's my job to hand you the rewards you've earned in your Sub-Dimensional Zone. In return, I receive a bit of Karma."
"Karma?"
The man waved his hand. "Guiding a baby isn't part of my job description."
With that, the man unfurled a golden scroll. Maybe it was due to whatever it is he read, but he froze for a very long time.
'He seemed to be speaking English, but his lip movements were nothing like English. Something is translating?' Leonel thought to himself.
"First to clear a Sub-Dimensional Zone in your world, huh? Not bad… Oh, that's unfortunate. It seems that someone skipped ahead and took the World Spirit for themselves, or else you'd have a right to a fourth of it. Shame, your world has Eighth Dimension potential, its World Spirit should have great talent… Not bad, a Third Dimensional world that can create rudimentary Sub-Dimensional Zone analysis technology definitely has a bright future ahead of it.
"Just who could… Oh?" The man's brows raised as though he saw something amusing. "Is Morales your maternal or paternal name?"
"… Paternal."
"I see… I see…"
"Excuse me, sir. Are you saying that my reward should have been this World Spirit but someone else took it?"
"You could say so. But it's less about the World Spirit being taken away and more about it choosing its master. You shouldn't feel that it's unfair, it can only be said that this person is more gifted than you are. Or rather… That's not definitive. After all, this World Spirit was taken even before you were born.
"Also, being the first only nets you a reward of a chance to gain the World Spirit's recognition and the equivalent of a fourth of its power. Many worlds still have the power of their World Spirit split into four, passed down through generations of the same Clan… Not that that matters much to you, now."
"Oh, I see…"
"… Entering a Tier 4 Black Ranked Sub-Dimensional Zone on your own for your first try? With a pseudo Fourth Dimensional world's constitution for a body? You must be insane."
Leonel opened his mouth to answer, but he couldn't make heads or tails of what the man just said. His watch ranked the world he entered a grade 'C'. How did that translate to this man's ranking system?
"It was a Tier 4 Black Ranked Zone meant for four people? What the hell is wrong with you kid? No wonder it took so long for me to fix you up. Leave these kinds of things to youths born in higher Dimensional worlds. It's my job not to be prejudiced against you, but I'm giving you advice. Your world has a lot of potential, more than mine by a good margin. Take your time and stop rushing things."
Leonel was shocked by the care in the man's voice. It seemed out of place… Or maybe he was just a good guy, or was just fond of his accomplishments.
But, he could still only smile bitterly at the man's words. He hadn't known anything before he stepped in. Plus, his father had implied that he should enter. How could he know his old man would send him to his death?
"… Alright, I'll stop nagging you."
"Sir, can I ask your name?"
"My name is Montez."
"Thanks for the advice, Uncle Montez. I'll do my best."
Montez blinked in shocked for a long while before he laughed heartily.
"Uncle it is, then… Hm, your rewards…
"Clearing both side quests. Activating the hidden quest. Completing the hidden quest. Clearing the objective."
"I cleared the objective?.. I thought I failed…"
"You would have, had you killed that little girly. But it seemed you didn't."
Leonel's face twisted with a weird expression. What kind of quest was that? Wouldn't it go on forever then?
"The quest objective was to repel the Spanish and save the girl."
Leonel's expression darkened. The wrist watch told him to save the Chief Priest. What kind of sick joke was this?
Had he known the true objective, he wouldn't have gone into the Sacrificial Room without a plan because he would of deduced the Priest would be his toughest enemy. If he was prepared, he wouldn't have ended up in such a sorry state.
Montez began to laugh, eventually wiping tears from his eyes.
"I told you it was rudimentary Zone analysis technology. How could it be completely accurate?"
Leonel took a deep breath. "Before my rewards, do you mind explaining two things to me? What exactly are Sub-Dimensional Zones and how does the ranking system work?"
"Well, I'm normally not allowed to explain these things… But I think I can get away with it this time.
"Zones are key points in history which connect your Third Dimension to the Fourth. Due to a sort of buffer the Universe has, these Dimensions were 'stored' in time so that they couldn't influence the timeline too much. In order for your world to successfully evolve to the next Dimension, these instances in time must be resolved.
"If they are not resolved, they will begin eating away at your timeline, altering important events in history until your world is unrecognizable. If the problem becomes severe enough, your world could collapse."
Leonel's eyes widened. He hadn't expected the problem to be this severe.
"So I'm guessing… the reason why you higher worlds help us little guys out is so that one day you'll have more help with clearing your own Sub-Dimensional Zones?"
Montez couldn't hide his mouth hanging open in shock.
"… Yes… That's exactly right. It's in our best interest to unite in this matter. A world with as much potential as yours will receive a lot of help. In fact, there should be a lot of influences from other worlds in your own already… You're quite a smart boy, but I really can't say much else. Influencing your timeline too much can have its own poor effects.
"To answer your second question, Black Zones are assigned to Fourth Dimensional events, Bronze to Fifth, Silver to Sixth, and Gold to Seventh. My own world is only of the Seventh Dimension, so I don't know much more."
Leonel had many more questions. Like the man had mentioned 'world potential' before, and even said that Earth had the potential of an Eighth Dimensional World. On top of that, he said that Earth had more potential than his own world. But if that was the case, and his world was already of the Seventh Dimension, shouldn't his world's job be done? Since there was no hope in reaching the Eighth Dimension for them, why did they still help lower worlds?
And if his job wasn't finished for some unknown reason, wouldn't his Seventh Dimensional World be facing Eighth Sub-Dimensional Zones right now just like Earth as a Third Dimensional World was facing Fourth Sub-Dimensional threats? So why did he not know anything about Zones above the Gold grade?
There seemed to be a secret here that was nagging at Leonel's heart. But… He knew better than to ask.
"Each rank of Black to Gold is divided into nine level, one being the lowest and nine being the highest difficulty. In addition, the chosen difficulty is ranked by how many are allowed to enter as well. The Zone you completed had an entry limit of four since it was relatively stable and could support that much influence without collapsing. But, you completed it alone, so it was more like a Tier 5 Black Zone to you."
Montez clapped. "Alright, that's enough. I wasted much of our time together with too many words.
"I'm sure you know by now that the reward system is separate from the Zones. It's something us higher worlds created. Only Silver and Gold Zones can form rewards of their own, kind of like that dagger in your hand… Though that dagger will disappear once you leave this place. That's the difference between low grade Zones and higher grade ones."
Leonel couldn't help but inwardly smile. Every time Montez swore he couldn't tell Leonel anymore, he would continue to drop tidbits of helpful information.
"Either way, since this is a four person Zone, you can normally choose four Tier 4 Black rewards for a minimum clear. But, since you completed the hidden quest, that's good for a Tier 5 Black reward. Including the two side quests… the clearing 100 Spaniards reward is another Tier 4 Black reward, clearing 1000 is a Tier 5 Black reward.
"I also have to factor in the fact you were the first of your world to clear a Zone, and that's worth a Tier 9 Black reward. So, five Tier 4 Black rewards, two Tier 5 Black rewards, and one Tier 9 Black reward.
"You are allowed to trade down by handing in a higher Tier for three lower ones. You can trade up by using five. Don't ask why it's like this, you know people at the top are misers."
Montez clapped his hands. A moment later, a counter filled with treasures Leonel was practically blinded by appeared. Maybe the most shocking part was the fact this 'counter' extended for hundreds of meters to the left and right.
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