C546 - Elorin
Leonel's bow disappeared, only to be replaced by an odd metal. Just looking at it, one couldn't feel anything special. It looked even less special when Leonel bent it in his hands as though he was pleating fabric rather than a metal bar.
But, when the two kneeling figures felt this metal wrap around their wrists and lock into place, they felt as though they couldn't exert any strength at all.
After he was done, Leonel walked to the obese merchant who was still sickly pale. He didn't seem to realize that the last response by the dictionary gave him some breathing room, likely because the pressure Leonel put on him was too much. Or, more accurately, it was Aina's pressure.
From the very beginning, Aina had had a bad impression of this man. So, the moment she found out that he was one of the spies, she no longer held back her killing intent.
Luckily, it seemed that this merchant was more adept at selling wares than battling. But, this only made sense.
After a world completed its first Metamorphosis, it would slow into a lull. By then, not everyone needed to be combatants any longer.
On the current Earth, practically everyone needed to know how to fight with the exception of a few. However, as things settled down more, it was likely that Earth may return to the previous days where the army and a regular citizen's life were kept separate.
"You… That…"
Leonel didn't wait for the obese man to finish and simply locked his arms into place just like his colleagues.
This metal bar was the very metal used to line the walls of Dark Cloud Prison. With all the destruction, Leonel managed to snap a few pieces for himself with quite some ease. Now, he wouldn't have to worry about these spies using secret means of communication.
Though Leonel could easily see through more conventional communication methods, stopping abilities would be more difficult.
The reason he was able to weed out the spies to begin with was because White City simply made it too easy. Every spy, without fail, had communication Force Arts drawn into the foundations of their home. Not only were there communication Force Arts, but there were also Force Arts that made monitoring the City several times easier.
Of course, the obese merchant and his two accomplices were a bit different in this regard since their homes were only recently built. But, even then, seeing through them hadn't been very difficult. Leonel only had to pay attention for special talismans.
Since the merchant and his men weren't citizens of White City to begin with, it was obvious that the people of Terrain would account for this, giving them more mobile options for espionage. For someone with senses as sensitive as Leonel's, seeing through these hidden mechanisms was simply too easy.
The main mistake White City made was that it didn't consider the fact that someone knowledgeable about Force Arts would even exist on Earth to this point and this could be considered their downfall.
In the end, Leonel chose to simply imprison the members of the Milky Way Guild. He could tell that this might lead to problems later, but he couldn't afford his plans being revealed, even if there was only a small chance.
…
A long while later, the spies who survived the purge were group together and thrown into the White City dungeons. As a City, there was no surprise that White City would have such a thing, so it made things many times more convenient.
The patrol units looked toward Leonel in a completely different light.
With their training, they could easily tell that Leonel had indeed picked out spies. If it was just an act, maybe their disdain would have reached another level. But, this was very clearly not that.
"Station a few to look over this area." Leonel said.
"Yes, Prince!"
Leonel walked away, not minding their change in attitude. To him, actions always mattered more than words. Now that all the spies were dealt with, he could really begin.
As for what he planned to do?
Well, the people of Terrain liked dropping Cities onto battlefields right? He might as well give them a taste of their own medicine.
**
On a secret location on Earth, there was yet another meeting taking place.
The war for Earth was reaching a new level. But, everyone knew that unless The Capital fell, Terrain would be left with nothing. Of course, Terrain had their own plans in this regard, but the truth was that they were making no progress on that front, at least on the surface.
This meeting, however, didn't include people of Terrain, nor did it include people of The Empire. Rather, each and every soul here was an upper echelon member of the Slayer Legion.
Among those present, there were several that Leonel would recognize. The first of which being Supreme Monet. Aside from her, there was even the angelic man who appeared that day to stop Hutch and there was even Hutch himself.
The old man lazed around as usual. But, compared to when Leonel first saw him, aside from having his feet up on the table, the old man also cradled a machete resting in an age-worn leather sheath.
His head nodded away as though he might fall asleep at any time. In fact, even though the conference table was practically packed to the brim, there wasn't a single soul within a meter of Hutch, it was as though they all tacitly agreed to stay away from him.
Still, though many avoided Hutch, their focus wasn't on him at all. Rather, they were all focused on a particular young man.
Despite the fact that he was the youngest in attendance, many looked toward him with awe and respect. Some gazed toward him with fear and still other looked upon him with admiration and … anticipation as though he was a shining hope prepared to change their futures.
The young man had striking blue eyes and hair whiter than snow. Despite this, his skin was a deep shade of brown. It was a warm, gentle sort of brown that reminded one of a wizened oak tree.
The young man sat quietly, as though he was waiting for something. But, seemingly without cause or reason, he sat up slowly, his gaze brimming with vitality.
If citizens of Terrain had been present, they would have immediately recognized this young man.
He was none other than the first on their list of targets, the young man who cleared the Zones of Earth the second fastest.
Elorin.
To be continued