novelraw Chapter 71 71: Now I understand
Chapter 71 71: Now I understand
Leon didn't raise his voice.
He didn't quicken his pace.
But something in his gaze shifted - subtly, as if a thin layer of courtesy had been peeled away, revealing something far colder beneath.
Ragnar ground his teeth.
In a single instant, the pieces connected - the man who had killed the giant boar… who had survived despite the zombie horde Ragnar himself had lured there… was now standing in front of him. Healthy. Strong. Looking at him with that same calm he had watched from afar that night.
Which meant only one thing.
The plan had failed.
Leon took another step forward, stopping clearly within combat range. His voice remained calm, yet there was something in it that sent a cold shiver down even Victor's and Arnold's spines.
"You know," he added, "I usually don't have a problem with people trying to kill me. It's a new world. Everyone schemes."
His eyes locked onto Ragnar's face.
"But I don't like it when someone does it from behind my back."
This time, his smile held no warmth at all.
Natalia - who moments ago had been focused solely on breaking Ragnar's defense and managing her mana consumption - briefly tore her gaze away from him and looked at Leon with clear suspicion, as if she'd suddenly realized there was another layer to this story she hadn't known about.
"You know this bastard?" she asked coldly, not taking her eyes off Ragnar. Her tone wasn't jealous or emotional - purely analytical, as if assessing a new threat.
Leon glanced at her. His face stayed calm, but a shadow passed through his eyes, making it obvious the subject wasn't neutral to him.
"Do you remember that day you helped me at the pharmacy?" he said more slowly, as though piecing together something that had once been only a hunch. "After the fight with the boar - when dozens of zombies suddenly started converging on me from every direction? Like someone had deliberately led them there?"
He paused briefly, then gave a small nod toward Ragnar.
"That wasn't a coincidence. He lured them. Didn't have the guts to come closer, so he tried to finish me off with someone else's hands."
His smile was thin, humorless.
"So yeah. You could say we know each other. He tried to kill me. I just… haven't had the chance to return the favor yet."
Surprise flickered across Natalia's face - because even she hadn't known that incident had been a planned execution attempt.
But a moment later, the tension in her shoulders visibly eased, a cool sense of relief settling in her chest. If Ragnar had already tried to eliminate Leon before, then their relationship was obvious - not allies, not rivals competing for influence.
Enemies.
The kind bound to clash sooner or later.
Ragnar - who until now had still tried to maintain some shred of dignity - suddenly paled. His gaze darted between Leon, Natalia, and Roland with mounting unease, as if only now realizing he was facing three people, each of whom alone could've been trouble…
Together, something far worse.
Boom!
Without another word, he activated his ability at full power.
The air around him trembled. The ground beneath his feet cracked under the pressure of compressed wind as he spun and bolted at maximum speed, trying to gain distance before any of them could react.
The people watching from the building windows froze. A few couldn't stop quiet gasps when they saw the man who moments ago had been shouting about making someone his "personal bitch" and demanding to be called king…
…now running like someone who had just remembered that in this world, there were predators bigger than him.
Leon didn't move immediately.
He simply watched Ragnar's retreating figure, his eyes growing visibly colder - like someone had dialed down the temperature in his gaze by several degrees.
"Where do you think…" he said quietly, though his voice carried clearly, "…you're planning to run?"
He stepped forward, extending his hand.
"You seriously thought I'd let you walk away after all this?"
Ragnar hadn't even made it halfway between the building and the intersection when Leon raised his hand…
…and the shadow trailing behind the fleeing man suddenly moved in a way that had nothing to do with natural light.
From the black stain beneath his feet, slender spikes shot upward - thin as needles, moving with surgical precision.
Before anyone could react, they pierced exactly where Leon intended - knees, elbows, shoulders, abdomen. They didn't tear brutally through flesh; they punctured cleanly, almost aesthetically for a split second.
Ragnar's steps cut off instantly.
His body jerked to a halt like it had been hooked by something invisible. Fresh blood burst from his mouth, splattering onto the pavement before he even understood what had happened.
The black spikes vanished as suddenly as they'd appeared, dissolving back into shadow.
But the wounds remained.
Blood began streaming from them in thick rivulets, staining the ground beneath him.
Ragnar tried to take another step.
He couldn't.
His knees gave out - tendons pierced, muscles unable to bear weight - and he collapsed heavily, dropping to his knees before clutching his stomach as blood soaked through his clothes.
The scream that tore from his throat was shrill and stripped of all dignity.
There was no "king" left in it - only the raw, instinctive pain of a man realizing for the first time that he might die.
Natalia and Roland froze for a moment, staring at Ragnar in shock, trying to process what they had just seen.
Neither of them had ever seen Leon use his ability before.
There had been no flashy explosion.
No spectacular clash.
Just a quiet, merciless strike that ended the fight in seconds.
Leon walked toward him calmly, step by step, unhurried - like someone going to collect a debt long overdue.
He didn't look angry.
He didn't even look particularly excited.
He looked cold.
When he reached Ragnar - who writhed on the ground trying to stanch the bleeding - Leon crouched beside him, shifted both daggers into one hand to free the other, and grabbed him by the hair without ceremony, forcing his head up.
Ragnar howled - the mere movement sending waves of agony from his knees and abdomen, nearly knocking him unconscious.
Their eyes met.
This time, Ragnar wasn't the one looking down.
Leon studied him with a small, almost polite smile.
"There's a saying," he said calmly, as if chatting over coffee rather than kneeling above a man bleeding out on the pavement. "He who lives by the sword… dies by the sword."
He tilted his head slightly.
"I like that one."
Ragnar barely understood the words.
The pain was too overwhelming - his thoughts shattering into chaotic fragments where survival instinct drowned out everything else.
He breathed heavily, unevenly.
For the first time, there was no arrogance, no lust, no contempt in his eyes.
Only fear.
Roland - who had watched the last several seconds with the expression of someone who'd seen too much in life to be easily shaken - slowly stepped up beside Natalia, resting his hands on his wooden cane as he studied Leon's back in long contemplation.
"Now I understand," he said calmly, without mockery or exaggeration - like a man arriving at a simple conclusion, "why you said you're not the strongest in your shelter."
Natalia didn't answer immediately.
Her gaze was fixed on Leon - who, without emotion, was dragging Ragnar across the asphalt by his hair like a torn, worn rag rather than a man who minutes ago had called himself king.
Ragnar screamed.
"Let me go, you fucking bastard!" he roared, trying to gather enough focus to activate his ability.
The air around him trembled again - like he was about to unleash another compressed wind blast…
But at that exact moment, his shadow twisted unnaturally once more.
Several thin, needle-like black blades pierced through the same wounds, driving deeper.
Ragnar coughed blood. The pain spike was so violent his concentration shattered like glass hitting concrete, and the half-formed ability fizzled out before taking shape.
Leon didn't even look at him.
"There's no point resisting," he said calmly, as if stating an obvious fact. "The more you struggle, the worse it gets for you."
There was something in his tone that wasn't a threat - more like a clinical notification that Ragnar's fate was already sealed.
Enraged and humiliated, Ragnar gathered the last of his strength and tried to strike at Leon's legs - one desperate attempt to prove something.
Leon reacted faster.
One kick.
A short, dry crack.
"Arghhhhh!!!" Ragnar's scream tore through the silent street. "You fucking bastard! I'll kill you! I swear I'll kill you!!!"
The bone in his leg snapped under the blow like a thin stick. His eyes widened as he looked at Leon - not like at a man, but at something that shouldn't exist in a normal world.
Leon didn't stop.
A second kick.
Another crack.
The other leg broke just as coldly.
Ragnar's scream - longer this time, almost animalistic - echoed between the campus buildings, bouncing off the walls and seeping into the hall where his people watched from the windows.
Inside, several survivors recoiled instinctively. Some covered their mouths, others turned away.
Even if they hated Ragnar, watching a man be broken like that - without hesitation, without emotion - wasn't something easily ignored.
Natalia watched.
Roland too.
Neither spoke for a moment, but something flickered in their eyes - something difficult to name. Not pure fear… more the awareness that Leon, at this moment, wasn't just their ally.
He was a force to be reckoned with - in the fullest sense.
Leon stood over Ragnar with a cold expression, as if performing a task that required no emotional effort whatsoever.
That was when Valeria - standing nearby - slightly furrowed her brows, something rare for her.
She spoke faster than usual, and for the first time in a long while, there was something resembling genuine concern in her voice.
"Leon…" she said quietly but firmly. "Check whether your Cold Mind ability has evolved to the next level."