The Bishop. It had been too long since Leonel heard mention of this person.
Within the Joan Zone, this entity seemed to rule the lives of Joan and the men around her. At first, Leonel had thought that The Bishop was the man in the tunnels, Nicolas.
Leonel still remembered the fanaticism in Nicolas' gaze when he asked him if he was well known in the future. Despite the fact the man was his enemy, Leonel couldn't help but feel bad for him at the time.
These people were likely promised great things, but how many of them really got to enjoy these rewards? Nicolas thought he had become some famous legend in the future, yet... Leonel had never heard of him. Wasn't that too sick of a joke?
The moment Leonel heard Aliard's words, he realized that this really was related to the matters of the Joan Zone. In all likelihood, his previous conjecture that their purpose in the Joan Zone was related to their successful entry into this Mythological Zone was most likely also correct.
But, what made Leonel more apprehensive was that Aliard said he had been branded. Was he talking about the Force Art he had drawn on the back of his left hand? But hadn't he gotten rid of it? How was it that Aliard still thought he was branded?
The moment Leonel returned to Earth's Pseudo Fourth Dimension, the Art's effects were shattered. Could it be that Aliard had sensed its previous influence?
Leonel looked toward the back of his left hand. He could still see the vague outline of the once prominent scar, but the magic it once held had long since disappeared.
Leonel looked back up, facing Aliard.
"So you're the one who made Lamorak target me?" He asked coldly.
Aliard didn't respond, he seemed to feel that this conversation was meaningless.
Leonel's gaze narrowed. It seemed that he had been a puppet on a string from the very beginning. Whether it was his battle with Lamorak, his terrible reaction back then, even down to the fact Aliard's 'disciple' Elys had been the one following him and guiding him all this time, it might even be possible that Aliard was slowly manipulating things in the background to make more and more people turn their blades toward Leonel within the trial grounds.
After all, his suggestive magic on Lamorak had been weaved over several months to years. It was much too subtle compared to Ector who he rashly took control of just for a few moments.
Though he didn't mind being exposed now, he felt as though it was unnecessary and he felt forced by the circumstances. He didn't like not having everything in the palm of his hands. To him, Leonel's actions were akin to a jumping monkey stalling the path of a King.
However, even Aliard couldn't help but frown slightly toward Leonel's laughter.
He could tell that this laughter wasn't one of hopelessness nor was it one of madness. It was almost like the kind of laugh you gave a friend when you fell for a prank... it was simply too light.
Leonel brought the horn up to his lips and blew.
At first, the horn was a deep black luster. It curled up for over a meter and weighed almost a hundred pounds.
However, after Leonel blew, several gorgeous patterns lit up across its surface, shimmering with a beautiful pale green light.
The billowing wind from Leonel's blow tore into the skies, causing the thunderous storm to pause for just a moment.
Aliard's pupils constricted. It wasn't just him, but so did Pope Margrave's. As the two most accomplished mages on the battlefield, they realized exactly what just happened. This was definitely beast taming magic, but they had never seen it used in this way.
Leonel calmly put the horn away as though he hadn't done anything special. In its place, he pulled out a familiar golden rod. Though it no longer held France's flag on one end of it, Leonel would never forget this pole. It was none other than a replica of Joan's weapon.
"I didn't get to use this against the monocle wearing bastard. But, that's just fine. I happen to hate you all almost as much."
Did they think that he, Leonel Morales, was someone they could easily deal with whenever they wanted to?
He would make Aliard and the other lackies of this so-called Bishop pay a price for their arrogance.. And, the cost he was asking for was nothing less than their lives.