242 Smooth Spiri

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Leonel had never expected that he wouldn't even get a chance to rest. 

A whirlwind of orders and roars shook the small fort. Lancelot's carefree demeanor completely vanished as he took hold of the situation. This fort was his own to control. 

The truth was that this base was in far better condition than the others would be. With a Knight of the Round Table protecting it, those stations here were several levels luckier than they otherwise might be. 

This was the first time Leonel had ever been on a true battlefield. Though he had fought the Englishmen alongside the French, those men were so much weaker than him that his life was never truly on the line. This was especially so when it was considered that Aina had been by his side. 

But this time, if he was just a bit careless, even a foot soldier could take his life. The warriors of this world were on a completely different level. He simply couldn't afford to take any of them lightly. 

For some reason, though… Leonel felt and urge to take the vanguard. 

Even he was shocked by this sudden change in his psyche. The thumping of his heart reminded him of the first time he stepped onto a football field. It was the very same feeling, that will to conquer and pit his wits against that of the enemy. 

However, all this time, such a thing had been repressed to the depths of his heart. He simply didn't like to kill. Such contradictory feelings always clashed within him to the point his initial instincts were tempered and snuffed out. 

But… the enemy was once again not human. 

Leonel suddenly smiled. 

He remembered charging toward the beast kings of the Project Hunt island. Back then, he had felt the fetters of his heart release a bit. After all, back then, his enemy was an army of beasts. And now… his enemy was an army of Demons. 

Leonel stood on the walls of the fort. The black wood felt exceptionally smooth beneath his feet. As a mage, it was only right that he stood at the back of the army. It was his job to observe a formation of Earth Mages and understand their procedure for future battles. But he was feeling especially agitated. He wanted to join the knights below. 

A synpase went off in Leonel's Dream World. When he sent his mind inward, he smiled bitterly. 

'So it's like that…'

In the sky of his Dream World sat his Dreamscape. Within it, arcs of lightning connected his memories of battle with Lamorak to a book titled 'Achieving a Smooth Spirit'. 

It was a level seven book, one at the limit of what Leonel was allowed to read currently. It was a theory speaking on the connection of one's mentality to their Spirit Pressure. 

In truth, it seemed like a crackpot theory, maybe similar to the holistic medicine of Earth. Though some people believe in it, many dismiss it as a ridiculous notion. Even Leonel hadn't thought much about it before… But right now, he understood where these feelings of agitation were coming from. 

His battle with Lamorak had left a shadow on his heart. It was impeding the pure flow of his spirit and limiting his future path. As a result, Leonel subconsciously wanted to prove himself on a real battlefield….

Leonel took a deep breath and closed his eyes. 

If others knew his thoughts, they'd believe he thought too much of himself. Lamorak was one of the four or five most powerful knights of Camelot. His age was easily three or four times that of Leonel's, maybe even more. It was only right that he defeated Leonel. Was Leonel even worthy to have such a shadow over his heart?

The fact such an impediment to his spirit existed was practically Leonel saying that he subconsciously placed himself on the same level as Lamorak or maybe even a higher level. 

To do something subconsciously was to say that Leonel believed this to the depths of his soul. He wasn't faking it, it was a confidence etched into his bones. 

Leonel chuckled to himself, causing the mages who were incredibly tense to his side to look toward him with shock. 

In the distance, a vile army of Demons surged forward like a tide. 

Black dogs with long grey tongues as rough as sand paper. Grey skinned humanoids with all sorts of horns and antlers on their heads. Scaled humanoids with reptillian eyes. Grotesque vultures looming in the skies with wrinkled, rotting skin…

It was a scene right out of hell. Yet, this young man was laughing? Had he lost his mind?

Leonel's blood rushed through his veins. He felt his bronze Runes flicking into and out of existence. He could hardly control himself. 

Leonel's eyes were like hawks, he automatically locked onto three Demon Lords in the distance. 

One was a massive minotaur carrying a bloodied ax. The tips of its horns were a deep, obsidian black, making it look as though it had been dripped in poison continuously. 

The second was a skeleton with blue flames for eyes. It wore a ragged black robe that couldn't hide the chains around its ankles and wrists. At the end of its chains there were massive heavy balls of black steel. Their weight were so substantial that they left long, deep trenches in the ground as the skeleton walked forward. 

The last was a zombie with rotting greenish grey skin. It wore nothing but a torn beast cloth to protect its groin. As for the rest of it, it was completely exposed. Leonel could even seen the lines of muscle fibers beneath its shedding skin. However, instead of these muscles being a healthy pink, they looked completely washed out to the point of nearly being white as though this zombie had not an ounce of blood left in its body.

Despite their grotesque appearance, Leonel could feel that their auras were billowing into the skies. They weren't as powerful as Lamorak or Lancelot, but the difference wasn't so large either. 

The more Leonel looked toward them, the greater the thumping of his heart became. 

Eventually, his heartbeat became so loud that those beside him could hear it. It felt as though his heart would leap from his chest any moment now. 

Leonel's aura towered into the skies. As though competing with the three Demon Lords before it, it shot into the rumbling black clouds above, even dispersing the ever falling rain for just a moment. 

Leonel could feel it. If he didn't step forward now, his blood would run in reverse. This feeling… he couldn't hold it down anymore. 

Military law? He simply didn't care. 

Several eyes landed on Leonel. Some were friendly and others were from the enemy army. However, he didn't have eyes for any of them. 

The blood surged throughout Leonel's body. It churned and spun, shooting into his chest. 

His lungs expanded, a mighty roar that seemed to drown out everything erupting from within him. 

A blinding light lit Leonel's eyes. By the time they dimmed, his eyes reflected a beautiful violet tinged with just the slightest hint of red. 

Then… 

He leapt from the walls of the fort.