Empires | Arc 3 | Chapter 5 | Number One

Leon walks across the flattened grass, taking the exact spot Lesca had occupied. He closes his eyes and begins to stretch. He rotates his wrists, rolls his massive shoulder blades, and twists his torso. Soft, sharp cracks echo from his joints.

It is a subtle realization—during the bloodbath with the griffins, Leon wasn’t even fully warmed up.

He opens his eyes, staring directly at Taglia. Then he exhales.

“Weapons of Doom.“

There is no feral roar. The activation is quiet, laced with absolute, chilling conviction. A reddish aura erupts around his body. It doesn’t burn like normal fire, nor is it an invisible, abstract pressure. It shimmers like a violent aurora borealis—a tear in the air, caught somewhere between the visible and the invisible.

Friling’s jaw drops. “Wooow.”

Maven steps forward, a fiercely proud smile breaking across her face. This is what her student has been training for.

Lesca scoffs at Friling. “Come on, Fri. Even I have that.”

“It’s not about the color, Lesca,” Jarrod says, his eyes surgically locked on Leon. “Look at Leon. It’s the conviction. He is literally manifesting 5D energy into our 3D reality. Through sheer focus, he’s forcing the metaphysical to bleed into the physical.”

The clearing falls dead silent.

The Weapons of Doom begin to radiate outward. The grass around Leon’s boots violently flattens and blows backward, pushed away not by the wind, but by the sheer, suffocating gravity of his Heat.

Jarrod nods, his mind already imagining Leon‘s current devastating potential compared to the previous brawl they had.

Lesca lets out a low, impressed whistle.

In the shadows, Makisa narrows her eyes. She isn’t impressed, but her gaze is intensely focused. This is the first time she has ever seen an internalized Heat user besides Taglia push their energy to a degree where it actively warps the physical world.

Opposite of Leon, the myth simply stands there. Taglia looks at the swirling 5D aura and offers a slight smile. It might be a gesture of praise. Or it might just be a silent command: Come.

Arrow. Speed 100. Strength 0.

SHEESH.

In the blink of an eye, Leon vanishes. He fires himself across the grass. The fifteen-foot gap evaporates in a microsecond. There is no man running—only a violent, red streak tearing through the space. The grass violently parts on both sides of his trajectory.

DHIIIISK!

Leon materializes point-blank, burying a right hook directly into Taglia‘s chest. The shockwave bursts out behind the Vagabond’s back—

SALACKKK

—instantly flattening the grass behind him in a massive radius. The sheer velocity of the impact is like a sniper bullet violently colliding with a steel vault.

Taglia is forced to slide his right foot back one step to absorb the force.

The group’s eyes widen in shock. Jarrod and Friling combined couldn’t force Taglia to budge an inch, but Leon just made him take a step backward.

“What the actual fuck,” Makisa whispers.

Taglia slowly lifts his head from looking down at the fist buried in his chest. He shakes his head, that same subtle smile resting on his face. “That was… wow.”

The exact millisecond Taglia speaks, Leon shifts.

Spear. Speed 90. Strength 10.

DHIDHIDHIDHIDHI!

Leon unleashes a blinding, explosive barrage. The speed-to-strength ratio generates a concussive storm of punches that rain down across Taglia’s chest, shoulders, and arms. His entire body vibrates under the relentless, blurring impacts. Without breaking the rhythm, Leon drops his center of gravity, sweeps his right leg to cut out Taglia’s footing, and uses his left boot to violently kick him up into the air.

As Taglia goes airborne, Leon crouches and detonates upward.

DHSUH!

He jumps higher than Taglia‘s altitude, hovering directly above the his exposed chest. He interlaces his fingers into a massive double-fist.

Hammer. Strength 100. Speed 0.

DHUTRUCK!

The strike connects with apocalyptic force. A sickening snap echoes across the clearing—the distinct sound of a bone or two giving way inside Taglia‘s chest.

Taglia plummets toward the earth faster than he rose. But before he can even hit the dirt, Leon shifts back to Arrow (Speed 100). He dives past Taglia, planting his hands into the grass in a handstand, and violently kicks upward with both boots directly into Taglia‘s right flank.

DHICKK!

Taglia is fired diagonally like a cannonball once again into the air, sliding across the field. Almost like Leon using him as a Volleyball, and he cannot do anything about it.

SHIIIIIII.

He crashes violently into the jungle, snapping the trunks of five ancient trees before disappearing into the brush.

Silence falls onto the field. Leon lands on his feet, standing perfectly upright, taking long, steady breaths as he glares at the treeline.

Lesca, Jarrod, Friling, and Makisa stare at the shattered jungle. Maven’s eyes remain fixed proudly on Leon.

Some moments pass by nothing but quiet. Slowly the field returns to normal the subtle air currents, the chirping of birds.

Then the brush parts. Taglia strolls out of the shadows.

He shakes his head, lazily rubbing his right flank with his left hand. But as he steps into the sunlight, Lesca and Makisa’s eyes instantly widen. The olive duster coat is suddenly suffocating him. His traps, shoulders, and arms are unnaturally engorged, fighting the heavy fabric just to contain the mass. His calves bulge tightly against his trousers. It isn’t a human athletic pump; it looks like his muscles just grow.

The rest of the group doesn’t immediately grasp this change. But Jarrod‘s analytical eyes catch the structural shift.

“He increased his mass,” Jarrod whispers.

Makisa, her eyes locked onto him, mutters the reality. “Twenty-five percent.”

“Hmm,” Taglia mumbles to himself. “Feels like I cracked a rib.”

Hearing his voice, Leon launches himself again. He charges, channeling Spear (Speed 90, Strength 10). But two steps away, the moment he closes the gap, he suddenly shifts his Heat.

Axe. Strength 90. Speed 10.

He throws a devastating left hook aimed directly at Taglia’s navel. But the moment the gap closes, Taglia smirks. He casually raises his right hand.

DHUSH.

The myth catches the incoming fist flawlessly in his palm.

But Leon is already smiling.

Using the trapped fist as an anchor, Leon throws a vicious kick directly into Taglia‘s knee. The joint buckles. Taglia loses his momentum and grunts, but he doesn’t lose balance like last time, only his torso leaning forward. The moment his face enters range, Leon drives a point-blank right hook directly into his cheek.

THUCRUCK!

Taglia is launched sideways again. But Leon refuses to let him breathe. He shifts back to Arrow (Speed 100) and blitzes after the airborne body. He catches Taglia mid-throw, wrapping his left arm around him to force him upright, then locking his right arm around his torso in a lethal embrace, while both being in motion.

Leon’s boots hit the dirt. He squats.

DHUCRACK!

The bedrock beneath them shatters into three massive slabs as Leon launches them both twelve meters into the sky. Taglia‘s eyes are slightly foggy from the concussive, rapid co-ordination of attacks.

Holding him in the sky, Leon leans in and whispers directly into his ear.

“Go…… home!”

Lance. Strength 60. Speed 40.

Leon grabs Taglia by the collar and the waist, torquing his entire body to hurl Taglia diagonally toward the earth.

ZIIIIIIII.

Taglia streaks downward like a missile. Leon instantly shifts again to Arrow to sustain his hover, making himself lighter and watching the result below him.

The moment Taglia’s head strikes the earth, the ground doesn’t just crack—it yields. The soil fractures in eleven massive directions before completely collapsing inward, dragging him down with it. A pitch-black crater, large enough to swallow a blue whale, opens in the center of the field. Taglia is entirely buried beneath tons of collapsing soil and bedrock.

Leon drops gently to the edge of the abyss. He taps his left boot, then his right, gaining footing perfectly, looking down into the darkness.

“Is he the god?…… Seriously, he is only taking hits.”

The group is paralyzed.

Lesca stares in absolute disbelief. Even she hadn’t pushed Taglia to this extreme. Jarrod is locked onto Leon, his mind reeling. Was he always this strong? Has he mastered his Heat to the point of generating mid-air thrust? Jarrod smiles. The world might be ending, but they have a genuine monster on their side.

Friling stares at the hole, his gut twisting. Why didn’t Taglia fight back? If he’s at twenty-five percent, he should be supersonic. Was Leon’s assault that overwhelming that he couldn’t think fast enough or dodge?

Makisa stands perfectly still, her eyes narrowed at the darkness. The only sign of her anxiety is the violent, rapid tapping of her boot against the grass.

“Do not get distracted, Leon,” Maven calls out.

Leon glances back at his mentor, roaring his reply. “I know! He was initially toying with me, testing my limit. But now I have glued him to the ground. He isn’t smiling anymore is he?”

Hearing Leon‘s tactical assessment, Jarrod and Lesca sober up. Leon isn’t just brawling; he is calculating the psychology of his opponent.

Maven finally allows herself a genuine smile. Seeing his mentor’s approval, Leon sighs.

“Fine. Just to keep you at ease, let me end it.”

Leon detonates upward, channeling Arrow to launch himself high into the sky, positioning himself perfectly over the center of the hole. He cannot see Taglia, but he smirks. He doesn’t need to. He closes his eyes, points his boots downward, and takes a massive, heaving breath.

Hammer. Strength 100. Speed 0.

He dives. It isn’t a fall; it is a gravitational execution. Wrapped in a violently swirling, reddish aurora, Leon streaks toward the earth with the velocity of a dying star.

The group watches the red flash plummet into the crater. For one exact, agonizing second, the valley goes entirely silent.

Then, he makes contact.

BOOOOOM!

A catastrophic shockwave erupts from the abyss. A raging cyclone of pressurized wind violently blows outward, tearing the crater horizontally for hundreds of meters. The ground splits open in every direction. Massive chunks of bedrock are blasted out of the hole, raining down across the grass as a thick cloud of dust swallows the field.

The tremor finally stops. The group slowly approaches the edge—except for Makisa, who stand frozen behind them, still trying to comprehend what just happened. The blue-whale-sized hole is gone. It is now a jagged, terrifying canyon splitting the earth in two.

As the dust settles, everyone holds their breath. It isn’t a question of who won anymore. It is a question of survival.

Footsteps echo from the dust. Leon leaps from one jagged slab of bedrock to another, climbing out of the canyon. His boots and the lower half of his pants have been completely incinerated. Dust clings to his skin, his chest heaving heavily, but his body is perfectly intact. He turns around to survey the geographical devastation he just authored.

And Taglia?

Nothing. The suffocating, heavy pressure of his existence is entirely gone. As they walk toward the edge, they feel it. The air is unnaturally light. It feels as though Taglia has simply ceased to exist.

Makisa’s eyes are blown wide. She finally stops tapping her foot. Her face remains a mask of feral apathy, but her heart rate violently spikes.

Leon looks at Maven, his smirk returning. Maven is stunned. “You not only channeled five different weapons under shortest amount of time, but used them in such synchronicity…… Phenomenal.”

Jarrod’s eyes twitch, completely overwhelmed. He doesn’t know whether to cheer for the tactical victory or be horrified by the ecological damage. Friling simply stares at the chasm, whispering, “God of destruction.”

But Lesca does not cheer.

Her bossy arrogance is gone. Her face is hauntingly serene. She looks from the canyon to Leon, then slowly takes a few steps closer to the precipice. She needs to know. Is this the end? Is he dead?

Is her Yang gone?

It has only been one minute since his presence vanished, but it feels like a lifetime. He hadn’t even complimented or insulted her after her fight with Makisa. She refuses to let a tear fall for a man she barely knows, but the realization hits her with physical force. She already misses the terrifying weight of his presence.

Framed against the vast, empty sky, the Goddess of Death suddenly feels profoundly small. A hollow, aching void opens in her chest—a new, inexplicable emptiness. The dead silence of the canyon feels like the ultimate, horrific confirmation. Taglia is gone.

Leon basks in the silence, taking it as the ultimate ovation. He takes a triumphant step toward the group, whispering “Number one!”

Lesca, completely numb, prepares to take another step toward the edge.

But before either boot can touch the grass, the quiet shatters.

A voice echoes up from the pitch-black depths of the canyon. It isn’t an ominous, demonic growl. It is chillingly calm, booming outward as if the heavens themselves are clapping for what is about to happen.

“Did someone say god of destruction?”

Leon’s smirk vanishes. He freezes mid-step. A single bead of ice-cold sweat breaks across his forehead as he locks eyes with Maven. Unable to turn back towards the canyon the voice came from.

Lesca stops dead in her tracks. She slowly drops her gaze, staring blankly at the dirt beneath her boots.

From deep inside the earth, a sound begins to echo.

Dhup. Dhup. Dhup. Dhup.

Heavy, impossible footsteps. Someone is walking up the sheer vertical wall of the canyon. And the owner of that voice is getting closer and closer with each step.