A tense silence hung in the cold evening air.
The bandits, once howling with laughter, now stared down at Leo with wary disbelief.
Their leader, the scar-faced brute standing atop the ruined battlements, narrowed his eyes. "You've got some nerve, kid," he growled. "Walkin' up here, alone, spoutin' nonsense like you're some kind of king."
Leo remained still, his posture relaxed, but his fingers lightly gripped the hilt of his sword. A strategic mind always had contingencies. He wasn't here to talk his way into the keep—he was here to seize it.
Scarface stepped forward. "Tell you what, 'Lord Valterion'—" he sneered, voice thick with mockery. "I'll be generous. Drop that pretty little sword, hand over whatever gold you've got, and maybe, just maybe, we won't skin you alive."
Gavin, standing just behind Leo, tensed. "Leo, this is bad," he whispered urgently. "We're outnumbered. We should—"
Leo raised a hand slightly, signaling Gavin to stay calm. Then, with an easy confidence, he tilted his head and smiled.
"I see."
Scarface grinned, mistaking Leo's reaction for fear. "Good, now be a—"
Leo moved.
In a single, fluid motion, he drew his sword and slashed the air in front of him. The blade whistled through the wind with impossible precision, sending a powerful shockwave of force that split the wooden post beside the gate in two.
A stunned silence followed.
The bandits froze, their eyes widening as the heavy wooden beam collapsed into the mud with a loud crack.
Leo lowered his blade. His stance was perfect, not a single wasted movement.
Just a day ago, he wouldn't have been able to swing a sword properly. But now? Now, battle was as natural to him as breathing.
Scarface's grin vanished. "What the hell…?"
Leo met his gaze, calm and deadly. "That was your warning."
A bead of sweat rolled down Scarface's forehead. He had underestimated this boy—but he still had the numbers advantage.
"Kill him!" he roared.
From the shadows of the ruined keep, ten armed bandits charged forward.
Leo exhaled slowly.
His first battle as lord had begun.
The first bandit lunged with a rusted axe.
Leo sidestepped at the last second, twisting his body just enough to avoid the swing. Then, with terrifying precision, he drove his sword through the man's gut, twisting the blade before ripping it free. Blood sprayed across the wet ground.
The bandit barely had time to scream before Leo kicked his corpse aside, eyes already shifting to the next opponent.
The others hesitated, stunned by how quickly and cleanly he had killed.
"This isn't the same weak noble brat they expected," Leo thought.
Before they could recover, Leo struck again.
One slash— another man's throat opened.
A quick spin— a third collapsed, his leg severed clean from his body.
A brutal thrust— the fourth was impaled before he even lifted his blade.
Three seconds.
Four men dead.
Gavin, watching from behind, felt his stomach drop.
"Leo is... not normal."
The remaining bandits panicked. One turned to run.
Leo's sword flew through the air, impaling the coward through the back. He collapsed into the mud, twitching once before going still.
Only four remained. They staggered back, eyes filled with horror.
Leo retrieved his sword from the corpse, shaking off the blood. His gaze flickered up toward Scarface, still standing atop the battlements.
"Is that all?" Leo asked coldly.
Scarface gritted his teeth. "You bastard—"
A loud whistle cut through the air.
Leo's instincts screamed.
He ducked just as a crossbow bolt whizzed past his head, embedding itself in a wooden post behind him.
Someone had fired from the shadows.
Leo's eyes narrowed. They had a sniper.
Scarface smirked. "Heh. You're fast, kid. But you're not faster than a bolt through the skull."
Before he could give the next command—
CRASH!
Something exploded through the wooden barricades of the keep.
The splintered remains of a door flew through the air as a figure emerged from within, dragging an unconscious bandit by the collar.
A woman.
She was tall, muscular, and moved with the grace of a seasoned predator. Her long silver hair was tied back into a loose ponytail, and her steel-gray eyes gleamed with sharp focus. Her armor—battered yet well-maintained—was worn not for show, but for survival.
She dragged the limp body forward and threw the unconscious bandit at Scarface's feet.
The bandit groaned weakly, his face swollen from what looked like a dozen well-placed punches.
Scarface's face twisted with rage. "You again? I thought I told you to get lost, you damn—"
"Shut up."
The woman's voice was calm, but filled with an authority that made even Scarface flinch.
Leo wiped his sword clean and studied her carefully.
This woman… she wasn't one of the bandits.
Scarface scowled. "Tch. Fine. Kill the brat if you want—I don't care anymore."
He turned to retreat deeper into the keep.
But before he could take another step—
The woman moved.
Faster than Leo expected, she closed the distance and grabbed Scarface by the throat.
The man choked, his feet lifting off the ground as she hoisted him up effortlessly.
The remaining bandits froze, terrified.
Leo raised an eyebrow. She's strong.
Scarface's hands clawed at her wrist, gasping. "Y-you—bitch—!"
She slammed him into the dirt so hard that his armor cracked.
Then, with a final, disgusted look, she turned her back on him—completely uninterested in finishing the job.
Leo smirked slightly. So she's not a killer. Interesting.
The woman stretched, rolling her shoulders before turning to face Leo.
Her gray eyes locked onto his.
"You're the new lord?" she asked.
Leo met her gaze without hesitation. "Yes."
She studied him for a moment. Then, a faint smirk crossed her lips.
"Not bad," she said.
Then, without waiting for permission, she walked toward him.
"Name's Selene. And you're going to need me."