Chapter 3206 A Father's Fury (1)

Chapter 3206 A Father's Fury (1)

Crackles of air shook around Leonel as he picked up his spear, stepping off of the wall and falling to the ground with what looked almost like a light brush with the soil.

A minor puff of dust rose up around his feet, but other than this, one would have thought that a feather had fallen from the skies.

Leonel exhaled a breath, trying to control his temper. But as he walked forward to the coming armies, he was finding it more and more difficult to do so.

Something rattled around inside of him, his body wanting to erupt. It was tempered by his own several controls and his insights for the future, but like a wild dog bucking against its chain, he could feel that it truly wanted to unleash.

The two armies came to a stop.

Vaelin and Ger'Ain stood at their helms, their eyes glowing with murderous intent as they locked onto Leonel...

And maybe for good reason.

Vaelin knew that Leonel had touched upon a taboo of the Sylvan Race, taking their Sylvan Hearts and using them for his own personal purposes as though they were truly trees to be lopped down for their lumber.

On the other side, Ger'Ain knew that one of his own had fallen at the hands of Leonel. Not only had he fallen, but Leonel had even gone as far as to turn him into a puppet. Any Race would be absolutely furious about this. Not a single one of them didn't have protections and caution against the Fawkes for this precise reason.

But not only was Leonel a threat because he could do it, he was also a threat because he actually dared to.

When these two factors were put into the same person, they formed the perfect recipe for an existence that should be wiped out at all costs.

However...

The two men looked toward one another, the dangerous light in their eyes still flaring. They almost looked as though they wanted to take one another out first.

Each one was a prideful man in their own right. They wanted nothing more than to deal with Leonel on their own. Something like teaming up wasn't on their mind in the slightest.

As expected, the fact that they had appeared here at the same time was nothing more than a "coincidence." One that was almost surely set up by the Regulator itself. Another flare of anger rose to Leonel's mind before he forcefully pressed it down.

He could feel that these were remnants of his flagrant arrogance. He wasn't just angry because of the danger this put him and his family in, but also that someone else was controlling his life to such an extent.

Every decision he made, and every attempt he began to try and rein in control of the situation ended up slipping out of his grasp and growing to become a new tool that was instead used to control him.

He absolutely hated it. He hated it with every fiber of his being.

Leonel gripped his fist so hard around his spear that the blade tip quivered.

He looked down at his once steady blade, realizing that he was truly losing control. This was unacceptable.

With a slow motion, he held his spear out, watching as the blade tip went from a vibrating metal to a steady statuesque mass that was unmoved by the aura spiraling into the skies and the swaying winds.

Leonel took a step forward, and then a quick second before he dashed forward. This fury...

He had to unleash it.

His body flickered, and he seemed to continuously accelerate, his body growing warm as the aches from the previous battles were suppressed by his adrenaline.

Blood poured down a side of Leonel's body in a rain.

The Sylvan stood over him, large and imposing. Whether it was Ger'Ain or Vaelin, the both of them were practically twice his height. It might have been even worse had they not been suppressed by the Regulator too.

And unlike him... There was a flicker of Spear Force on the end of Vaelin's blade.

Leonel could feel it rampaging in his flesh, making it near impossible for him to stop

the bleeding in short order.

"This is all you have? And you dare to blaspheme the warriors of my race?" Vaelin's

voice came out in an almost ancient cadence, as though he was several generations older than he truly was.

Leonel didn't respond, slowly rising to his feet and touching the gash on his shoulder

and neck.

The wounds were so deep that even an entire finger couldn't clog it up. His vision was already swimming, and it felt like he could collapse at any moment.

And yet, he had still forced himself to stand.

How many months had he been here already? Just two? It felt like so much more than

that...

"I'll take your head here and then feed your corpse at the altar of our young. It's the only way you can atone for your sins."

Leonel looked up for the first time, meeting the gaze of the Sylvan.

He looked like a man who could already be dead. Blood coated his hands, an entire

side of his body was a shower of his own crimson, and his neck looked as though it had already been an eighth slashed open.

Practically speaking, for a Third Dimensional existence, he was already a walking

corpse.

But for some reason, Vaclin suddenly felt uncomfortable.

"You know," Leonel began to speak, his voice coming out in a gurgle as blood spurted out from and into places that it shouldn't. "An Emperor like my grandfather really would be in perfect control of his temper. But I don't know why I'm wasting my time. All that effort to try and control my emotions, and it's just making me slower.

"Why bother?"

Leonel looked like he was genuinely asking Vaelin for answers.

"I'm no Emperor. I'm a King. And right now, you're really pissing me off."

Leonel's temper flared.