Leo : The Lion King

Chapter 232 232: Leo vs Ten lions (2)

[3rd POV]

Dust rose before blood did.

Imagine Prime Mike Tyson fighting a five-year-old boy.

But to add context to that controversial statement, the five-year-old was gay, not the muscular gay type but someone who would grow up to be a petite femboy. But I said it would be because imagine the boy has blood and bone cancer. The boy was on a bed his whole life, so he has zero skills.

And this Mike Tyson was on hard meth, the type that Nazi used to feel brave and basically go on a wild rampage during the war. And this Mike Tyson just came out of prison and is jacked.

Imagine the clash between these two.

If you can imagine, you can imagine the clash between Leo and the average lion from the Masai Mara.

Leo picked out the weakest looking one among the group, his main priority was to reduce their number as soon as possible, hence the choice.

And when Leo picked him, the lion lost his identity and became a full victim.

Not only was this lion the smallest among the group, but he also had a limp from the injury on his shoulder. It was caused by the hyena attack a few minutes ago.

Dust rose, hiding the pitiful sight of two entities that were barely a lion for two different reasons.

A growl became a roar.

The other growl became a cry.

The lion opened his mouth wide, trying to bite but he clamped down on hair. Leo's mane was so thick that one would never guess where the mane stopped and flesh began.

On the other hand, Leo did not miss his mark and plunged his dagger like teeth into the skull of the lion.

The victim did not go limp, he froze and his body without brain instinctively fought back with every ounce of strength.

Leo just clamped down harder, reducing skull like biting a cake. Then he thrashed, once, twice, a good chunk of the lion's head was torn off.

Dead.

If cats had nine lives he would still be dead.

Leo's paw weighed down on the ribs, crushed the neck with the thrashing, and broke the spine with another stomp.

Such violence happened in the span of less than five seconds.

The other lions committed fully at that point since they were no longer the first unfortunate victim. Their hesitation was replaced by the desperate courage that only came when they were not the first to die.

It was hard to see amid the smoke.

Leo's initial run through the coalition was not just a way to reduce their morale but also to churn the fine sand into a smokescreen of sorts.

His greatest weapon had never been his monstrous body but his sharp mind.

Nine lions leapt into the chaos, turning the whole fray into a storm of flesh and fur. In such a cluster of numbers and with no strategy, believe it or not they had the disadvantage.

Leo was surrounded by enemies, every hit landed on the correct target.

On the other hand, they were surrounded by allies, it was hard to distinguish the sole enemy in such a chaos.

They'd have a better chance coming at him three or four at a time and hope he tires out. But these stupid and arrogant lions never considered the disadvantage of ten lions against one.

Clearly, they weren't Scarface.

One lion correctly came for the throat, another found success in biting the spine. A third lion went for the hind leg, but was kicked away by a spasm of Leo's legs.

Claws found mane, teeth sank into hide, and weight crashed into Leo from all sides in a desperate attempt to bring him down.

That was where they succeed. Although their lethal weapons could not correctly find a target, their combined weight managed to bring Leo down.

Maybe they could suffocate him like this.

...

Leo vanished beneath them.

A tangle of fur and muscle slammed into the cracked earth as nine kings of the Mara piled onto the one who ruled the Serengeti. Dust exploded upward in a choking cloud that swallowed the battlefield whole.

Wild, untamed violence was the best way to describe the scene as the lions on top of Leo began biting and tearing with wild abandon.

Sumu was one of the lucky lions that found Leo's shoulder. He clamped down with all his strength. His jaws strained, teeth grinding against a muscle that did not yield the way flesh should.

Blood came, Leo's blood.

But it was not enough.

It was so not enough.

These bunch of lions, although plenty in number were less of a threat than the Four Musketeers.

They had zero brains.

Piling up on him like this would've worked well after maybe a few minutes into the battle when Leo was running out of energy. But the Leo they decided to pile on was fresh, while they just fought against a clan of hyenas.

And the king of the Serengeti had two rhinos, weighing 800 kilograms now whom he played with often. And he had been hunting buffalo for half his life.

Lions, especially Leo were not built for sustained combat but a burst of strength. And now, they gave Leo the perfect opportunity to flex that strength.

Leo rose.

Just like that?

Yes, just like that.

Not with speed but with clear difficulty but he still rose. Like someone doing a PR deadlift.

It was as if the ground itself had decided to stand up. Bodies that had moments ago forced him down began to slide from his back as he pushed against the earth with paws the size of a buffalo's skull.

Leo took a step.

The lions still attached to him felt their jaws tremble as the muscles beneath their bite shifted, flexed, and tightened with a strength that should not belong to a cat shaped predator. As the muscle fibres grinded, they nearly became victim of their own bite and had their fangs pulled out.

Leo turned and stepped on one of the lion that fell from his back. His already massive weight was multiplied by the other lions that were on top of him.

The lion growled wildly, feeling his ribs break and puncture organs as Leo applied more weight.

Hearing that painful growl, the lions dropped off from Leo's back. He snatched down, taking a portion of the poor lion's nose before he bolted out from the pile. His claws raked at the fallen lion as he ran.

Immediately, the lions that had not landed a significant damage followed behind Leo. They lagged initially but caught on as Leo's acceleration was over.

Running here was a strategy. Leo couldn't fight them one by one and outlast them even after they had clashed with the hyenas. But running like this tired everyone on the same scale.

It was fair.

One lion lunged when he caught up to Leo.

A stupid habit of lions was the roar they released whenever they leapt at prey. Leo was all too familiar and suddenly slid to slow down.

The lion leapt too far and crashed in front of Leo. The king blitzed forward then, flipping the lion like a pancake and immediately biting on the soft underbelly.

But Leo couldn't focus on one lion too long, so he turned back immediately. But when he turned, he never released his bite so he tore flesh in his turn.

Thick red blood, almost black in colour, flowed out from the puncture. It was internal blood. A grave injury that would kill the lion eventually if not instantly.

Leo stood up and clashed with another lion that leapt at him. Since the lion was mid air and he was not, Leo was able to turn around and slam the lion on the ground. Even the most basic grappling sense was vital against wild animals.

Leo's bared claws latched into the hide of the weaker lion and he tore violently. But in every clash, his eyes were never at his victim but at the other lions.

They were quick to surround him.

This was not really a conscious strategy but a predatory instinct. Leo left the lion mostly unharmed and charged at the lion that extended too far in an attempt to surround him.

Leo braced his head and slammed into the lion. He was so tall for a lion that their head only reached his muscular shoulders. The lion had opened his teeth, expecting a normal clash but was shoved instead.

There was crack on the lower jaw and he fell down, knocked out for a while.

Leo did not finish him off, he did not have the luxury to do so. If they piled on him again, he wouldn't be able to get up like he did last time.

He knew his limits.

He continued running in circle, making rapid turns to make sure he was never circled. And when he saw a lion that was separated a little too far in an attempt to surround him, he charged at them.

Running. Leo knew that was the best way to tire them all out.

They didn't know it yet, but Leo was slowly chipping away at their advantage which was their number and attrition.

On the other hand, the Mara lions were left completely stunned.

The way Leo moved was wrong. It was all wrong.

Each turn was tight despite the absence of a tail, his massive paws digging into the earth for balance. The limbs that drove him forward were thicker than they had any right to be, muscles layered upon muscles as though his body had been forged for this very act.

Leo funnily utilized his acceleration advantage. He was fast in short distance but slow if they had all ran at top speed. He initiated a fight frequently to make sure it was always a short burst of running.

He did not look like he was running to them as he zig zagged and sometimes circled back. He never left the battlefield for them to see it as running and having a higher morale.

Another thing to note was the way he was better at tight turns. A lion without a tail should stumble, but his body had adapted and built in such a way that he outclassed them in every field of skill he met them in.

Leo pivoted with terrifying precision, his weight shifting through his limbs like a siege engine adjusting its aim. One lion finally saw another opening as he predicted a turn.

He lunged at Leo's back, careful to not overextend like the rest.

But then Leo rolled before he was struck, he caught the lion mid air with his paws and then slammed him into the ground.

The lion was winded. Leo swung his paw at the ground, clutching a pawful of sand that he threw directly at the lion on the ground before clawing at the face too.

When the lion roared loudly. Leo shoved his paw into the open mouth and tore the soft tissue of the insides. Blood gurgled, the lion could breathe as he was on his back and he choked on his own blood.

Couldn't breathe, could see.

Leo left him immediately.

But the lions that came after him to chase Leo sounded like an attack and he lashed out at his own allies.

Finally, Sumu found success in mounting Leo from the back. He clamped down on the loose skin and dragged his legs so as to slow down Leo.

Another lion ran up to Leo from the side, trying to get a bite at Leo's ears or the side profile of his face. Leo dodged by turning to the other side. For a moment the lion thought he was safe.

But then Leo twisted, allowing the lion to find purchase. The lion took the bait and bit at Leo's side neck. Leo waited until the lion committed fully before his feet were off the ground and he fell sideways.

Leo slammed his entire weight into the lion and rolled on top of him to crash with Sumu too.

Sumu released his bite, his lungs out of air so he needed mouth to breathe. Leo simply got up, clashed with a few other lions before he moved away again.

Blood ran now, dark streaks along Leo's flank and shoulder where claws had found their mark. The nine were not weak. Their numbers were not meaningless. Every bite drew something from him, every claw tore at hide that even now began to slick with red.

But it was not enough.

Not nearly enough.

"Dumb fuckers,"

Leo did a sudden turn. The lions were too focused on him to notice but there was only three of them left.

The rest were either recovering or lagging behind to join the fight.

Three, Leo could take three.

...

...

[IMAGE]

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