Chapter 58: The Future of Avangard
The air inside the captain's tent at the Training Grounds was thick, humid, and suddenly too small. Leornars stood before Captain Luke and Stacian, utterly motionless, his gaze distant, as if the tent and the people in it were minor inconveniences.
"So it's just three people who are leading this coup?" Leornars asked.
It wasn't a question. It was a statement delivered with the chilling neutrality of a judge reading a death sentence. Luke felt his gut twist. He swallowed, forcing a ragged nod. "Yes, the coup is led by three villagers from the village on the west -"
Leornars cut him off mid-syllable, addressing Stacian. "Take Zaryter, Shullah, Ayesha and Salene to Avangard. I'll be doing things here alone for a bit." He spoke of building a nation with the ease of ordering breakfast. "The undead are near completion—over three hundred houses are already built. I need you to formulate the new occupants and assimilate the neighboring villages. No bloodshed."
The man who spoke of building a kingdom out of the ground possessed eight billion gold coins and discussed vital rice shipments like a merchant—a level of ambition that crushed Luke's petty "coup" into dust.
Stacian bowed, accepting the world-altering task without a flicker of emotion. "But I'm your personal assistant, Lord," she stated in a calm tone.
"Don't worry, I'll finish things here in two weeks, or three if something weird happens," Leornars replied, his neutral tone implying that he was the only variable in the equation.
As Stacian began to exit, Vice-Captain Shirlene intercepted her near the tent flap, her face pale but determined.
"I don't trust you, and your leader," Shirlene said, her voice strained.
Stacian stopped. The calm mask she wore cracked, revealing something terrifying beneath.
"Pressure," Stacian hissed. The single word was a silent, concussive force.
An overwhelming wave of dark blue aura, thick and heavy like liquid midnight, exploded outward from the girl. It was the purest form of Killing Intent Luke had ever felt. The blue field stretched across the training grounds, suffocating the air, driving the very earth down.
Shirlene instantly collapsed, her armor rattling as she was forced onto her knees, gasping.
"Don't you ever talk about Lord Leornars like that," Stacian stated, her gaze one of pure disgust. "If I hear a single word you say wrongfully against him... I'll kill you."
The aura vanished as quickly as it had erupted, leaving behind only an unsettling silence. Stacian stepped over the kneeling vice-captain and disappeared.
Luke's breath hitched. That wasn't a skill. That was sheer, unadulterated power.
Leornars finally turned from the doorway, his eyes falling on Luke.
Now. Find the flaw.
Luke frantically channeled his focus, pouring his life force into his unique skill.
"Chain Breaker: Eye of Indra."
The tent fractured. The world exploded into three hundred shimmering, translucent layers of the near future. Luke searched desperately through the infinite possibilities, seeking the thread of fate where his blade could find an opening, where he could survive the encounter.
But every thread ended the same way: Instant Death.
In one glimpse, Leornars' sword was a flash of silver—decapitation. In another, a casual backhand split reality itself, and Luke's body crumpled before his mind even registered the pain. The futures collapsed, all ending in absolute obliteration.
Luke's grip tightened on his useless blade. His foresight failed. There were no openings.
Leornars finally spoke, his voice low, his expression almost amused.
"You're seeing it too, aren't you?"
Luke took one, involuntary step backward, the truth of his utter powerlessness crushing him. What kind of monsters are these?
" Out of four hundred visions,I have lost to him"Captain Luke thoughtfully said.
The thought was a silent scream of surrender.
With a smirk captain Luke said
"It was worth the shot, trying to see if I had a chance against him"
____________
Meanwhile, miles away in the bustling demi-human village of Lurtra, the midday sun felt warm and benevolent on Sahara's skin as she stepped outside. She smiled, savoring her recovery from the stab wound.
"Beautiful," she whispered, looking up at the sky.
A blur of silver hair and boundless energy—the demi-human child Sasha—saw her and immediately dragged her toward the village chief's cabin.
"Oooooh, I see you have fully recovered, great hero," the old beast-kin man said, rocking gently in his chair.
They discussed the new heroes' quest: the King of Durmount's order to kill Leornars. Hearing this, the old man erupted into a fit of hacking, wheezing laughter.
"Do those children think they can defeat The Great Emperor Leornars, our 'White Plague?'" He wiped a tear from his eye. "They must be Pollium addicts or just plain mad!"
Sahara, though expecting the response, raised an eyebrow. "And how sure are you of that?"
The chief leaned in, his tone suddenly serious. "I have a rare skill that enables me to see someone's abilities and power level. With that, and my informant, I can say it clearly: It will take those heroes ten million years to reach his level. And even then, Leornars would have evolved." He paused, his eyes sharp. "I don't think I know anyone who is immortal and can tank a Soul Erasure ability from him."
Sahara's eyes widened, a mixture of shock and wicked delight.
"My, my," she murmured, turning to see Sasha already stuffing her mouth with sweet bread. "Those backstabbing bastards will have something not in their documents."
She sighed, watching Sasha. "Huh? Didn't we have lunch twenty minutes ago?"
"That's too long ago," Sasha mumbled. The chief laughed, a warm, genuine sound.
"So where will you be heading?" the old man asked Sahara.
"I don't know," she admitted, her voice tightening. "Leornars and I share a dark past. My father tortured him. He killed my father and half my village in a night. I can't face him knowing that."
The chief shook his head. "It's the past. Let it be. Lord Leornars is stern, but he now has people he truly seems to connect with. I highly doubt he'd kill you purely for vendetta."
A rush of powerful hope washed over Sahara.
"Okay, Sasha. We are heading to Vurnam!"
"Don't go there. There'll be bloodshed soon," the old man cautioned. "Go to Leornars's nation: Avangard."
Sahara stared. "He only arrived in this world six months ago and already has a nation?!"
__________
Leornars had left the troubled Knight Captain to his thoughts. He walked through Vurnam, arriving at the Yamaguchi Outfits shop.
The interior was a controlled chaos of creativity. New salespeople moved gracefully between customers, selling beautiful Yukatas. The business was clearly thriving.
As Leornars surveyed the room, Kurumi Yamauchi tried to spook him, leaping up behind him, reaching out to grab his shoulder.
She passed straight through.
She landed, utterly stunned, watching Leornars seated a few meters away, casually sipping tea.
"An illusion? And I fell for it!" she complained, hands on her hips.
"It seems your shop is doing well," Leornars said, the hint of a smile touching his face.
"All thanks to you! The transportation help was a very good idea," she replied, beaming. "I used to sell ten Yukatas a month; I now sell twenty a day!"
"Avangard's construction is complete," Leornars stated. "I was thinking of expanding your clothing store to three places: here in Vurnam, in Avangard, and in Lurtra. Later, to Seraphim or Durmount."
Kurumi jumped up in pure elation, grabbing his hand. "Thank you, Lord Leornars, for making my clothing dream a reality! I look forward to working with you for a very long time."
Leornars did not pull away from the warm, sincere contact. "Don't worry about it. You mentioned having other ideas from your original world... Japan?"
"Yes! With Salene and Ayesha, I've created hair shampoo, dye, and even body lotion!" she declared.
Lotion? Sham... poo?
Leornars, the man who could quantify and manage the economics of a nation, felt a genuine, incomprehensible blank spot in his knowledge.
Yes! Finally, I get to explain and tell him something he doesn't know! Kurumi thought, her triumph complete. For Leornars, the vast, simple gap in his knowledge was a surprisingly welcome distraction from the weight of his power.
____
In the Lord's manor, Stacian was a pillar of efficiency in the kitchen, preparing food for the journey to Avangard. The rhythmic sound of her knife was a soothing counterpoint to the political violence she had just averted.
"Get your belongings ready, we are leaving in an hour," she called out.
Zaryter walked in, his young face clouded with confusion. "Leaving? Where's Lord Leornars?"
"He'll be staying behind. He has things to do," Stacian replied calmly.
The child instantly burst into tears. "I'm not going! He said he'd never abandon me, then why?"
Stacian sighed inwardly. Unnecessary emotional output.
Shullah walked in, her calm demeanor a sharp contrast. "Big brother, why are you crying? Aunty Stacian, is Uncle Leornars leaving us?"
Stacian stopped her cooking, scooping Shullah up. "Lord Leornars has his plans to achieve first in Vurnam. Then he'll join us later in Avangard."
The change was instantaneous. Zaryter stopped crying, his face shifting from tragic despair to cheerful acceptance in a single breath. "Wait... he's... so that's what you meant! Okay, let's head out!" He snatched Shullah and ran off to pack.
Stacian stared at the swinging door. What the hell just happened? Her calm was momentarily shaken. He recovered fast. I guess having an empty head sometimes is not that bad. I truly envy him.
She returned to her cutting board, letting the mundane task anchor her. The vast, dark blue aura that protected her master was gone, replaced by the simple, peaceful necessity of preparing food.