***
"Bounty Hunter?" Leonidas repeated, both confused and threatened.
Meanwhile, Leo turned pale, as if he saw a ghost. "Ja Arz'o? T-the most… infamous Bounty Hunter in the E-East?"
The man had a conceited smirk plastered on his face. "Thas right, I'm takin' orders from him. M' companions over 'ere, we're all under his command," he gestured with an open palm to the darkness behind him, though nothing could be seen in the shadows. "Now," he thrust forward his arm and pointed his weapon at them. "Empty yer pockets."
Instead of fear rippling through Leonidas, he felt nothing but annoyance. He couldn't decide whether it was because his moment of relaxation had been disrupted, or if he was still troubled by the mysterious woman he had met before; but nevertheless, the emotion remained. With a low mutter under his breath, he uttered:
"Father, bless me with the power to wage war."
"Whaddya say?" The man before him asked, arching his eyebrow. Abruptly, he froze in place, the gravity of the situation hitting him like a ton of bricks. His eyes widened as if he was piecing together what was about to happen but it was much too late.
Without warning, an intimidating sword of scarlet appeared out of thin air, a deep red aura radiating from its blade. It was like a stream of pure crimson, searing through the night and imbuing everything in its path with a bright illumination. Its aura oozed out into the air, bleeding into the surrounding environment.
In a split second, Leonidas had a firm grasp on the sword's blood-red hilt before viciously slicing it across the man's body.
Blood filled the air like an eruption of gore as he desperately attempted to dodge. But it was too late; with a crippling scream, his arm was left severed, falling limp and lifeless to the ground with an unstoppable flow of carnage pouring from his body like a relentless waterfall.
"Son of a… bitch!" He roared in fury as he tumbled out of the carriage. He leapt to his feet, glaring around in rage. His fists clenched tightly and his eyes flashing with anger, he bellowed, "Men! Come out; he's a Battle-Magus!"
At his word, a dozen men materialized from the darkness. Most carried long-swords, a few hefted battle-axes. Hairy and dwarf-like in stature, their silver eyes were the only distinguishable feature on their faces; it was as if they were all cut from the same cloth.
"Charge!" The man roared, his sword outstretched, pointing to Leonidas.
With a war cry, they all charged. Leonidas front-flipped from the entrance of the carriage, his sword outstretched. Instantly he lunged forward and with one sweep of his blade, he beheaded the man from before with brutal ferocity.
His head was severed cleanly and blood sprayed forth from the gaping neck stump, splattering onto the floor in a grotesquely display. His head rolled away, still wearing an expression of rage as cries of fear and anger erupted from his comrades.
Leonidas' eyes shone a crimson red, a malicious smile curling across his lips. Whenever he called on his father's power, an innate craving for blood and violence coursed through him. And he loved it.
Two men raced forward from either flank, while the remaining three held their ground behind them. On the left, a broad-shouldered man unleashed vicious swings of his long-sword with an animalistic fury that rivaled even that of his companion, who cleaved and chopped with his battle ax. Despite their best efforts, Leonidas' defenses remained unbreached. The air was thick with sweat and the bellows of exertion as each futile strike failed to make its mark.
Leonidas moved with an almost unnatural grace, skillfully blocking and counterattacking every assault that was thrown his way. He bided his time with the patience of a master swordsman, all the while waiting for the perfect opening to strike back until... finally it presented itself.
In a stunning flash, Leonidas lunged forward, slashing with brutal accuracy as his sword cut deep into the chest of the one wielding the battle-ax. Leonidas felt his blade enter through the flesh, rending and tearing organs in its wake.
Entrails spilled out like tentacles from a beast, accompanied by a sickening spray of blood. The body slumped to the floor in a lifeless heap, now only held together by thin strips of meat and tendon while a pool of red trickled beneath it.
Paralyzed by the gruesome display, the second adversary remained still. A strangled cry emitted from his throat as he prepared for a powerful strike, yet his weapon merely cut through thin air. Leonidas had deftly sidestepped him and out of the corner of his eye, he now saw the final three men quickly advancing, their voices raised in cries as tears streamed down their cheeks.
With a maniacal grin, Leonidas ruthlessly sliced the second foe across his neck, plunging his blade with all of his strength. The excruciatingly sharp blade easily sliced through flesh and bone, carving an agonizingly deep gash on the adversary's Adam's Apple.
Guts were spilled out as blood spewed from the wound like a geyser, splashing onto Leonidas and drenching him in an unholy mixture of warm life essence and crimson. He welcomed it with open-arms, his hunger for bloodshed still unsatisfied.
With a roar of fury, the three men charged Leonidas, their blades flashing in the moonlight. But no matter what they threw at him, their long-swords and battle-axes alike were deflected or sent clattering to the ground. He moved like a blur, dispatching each warrior with lethal precision until all that was left was a handful of corpses and a rising sun painting the scene in shades of crimson.
One final foe remained, his right arm reduced to a mangled, bloodied ruin hanging limply from his shoulder. He knelt upon the stained floor, his labored breaths ringing off of its surfaces as he attempted to regain composure.
Leonidas held his blade aloft, the tip just an inch away from the man's throat. "Speak or meet the same fate as your comrades," he growled. "Why did you choose to attack us?" The man's eyes widened in fear, but he remained silent. Leonidas pressed the sword closer, drawing a drop of blood and repeated his question.
"Orders..." the man quickly rasped. "Grant me a chance to live... and I shall not disturb you. Where my battalion stands, we are the least of all; unable to even utilize Celestia," he gasped, his body racked with coughing fits.
Leonidas' gaze remained unwavering. "What does that prove? Why should I spare your life when I could just as easily take it from you now?"
The man's face twisted into shadow, and his voice rose with newfound authority as if he had found an ace up his sleeve. "Ja Arz'o won't let this pass unanswered," he said gravely. "He'll finish you off if you don't take heed! His Celestia surpasses even that of the Malfeficars. You must tread carefully."
"I have tread as carefully as I should have," dryly stated Leonidas.
And with one last swing, he brutally decapitated his last foe. A bloody stump remained where a head once was; the reminder of the horrific violence that had just taken place. Blood gushed out in grotesque fashion, and his body fell to the floor with a sickening thud, joining the rest of his butchered comrades in their gruesome river of blood.
Leonidas surveyed the landscape before him with a stoic gaze. The sword in his hand reluctantly melted away, its presence no longer necessary in the current peace. He was finally beginning to understand a key fact.
'This world, despite a new realm, holds similarities to my past. It is teeming with men, all wishing to cause me harm, seeking to prevent my ascension to the throne. But it doesn't matter. I shall slaughter anyone who dare to oppose me— as a son of war should.'
And with that, he turned, leaving lifeless corpses in his wake.
***