Chapter 472: Frog In A Well
(2 days later, Planet Juxta)
Compared to the newly crowned Dragon Aegon, who now lived under an avalanche of ceremonial duties and diplomatic obligations, Leo’s days post the historic match were spent in relative calm.
He spent a couple of days with family before returning to Planet Juxta, where Charles greeted him with a firm handshake and a familiar smirk.
"Well done, boy. You did not embarrass me out there," the old monarch said, as applause erupted across the Juxta Military Base.
Whistles, cheers, claps.... They all welcomed Leo back like a returning war hero.
Secretly, many on the base had hoped that Leo would rise to become the next Dragon, and were therefore left disappointed when he willingly chose to cast the title aside.
However, once Charles took the time to explain the immense responsibilities that came with bearing the mantle of Dragon, and how Leo might have genuinely felt, deep within, that he was not yet ready to shoulder such a burden, a shift began to take place.
The initial reactions, which may have leaned toward quiet judgment or confusion, gradually gave way to a more empathetic view.
And in time, what might once have been criticism transformed into a quiet understanding... and for some, even admiration.
"I broke through," Leo said, grinning. "Next time we fight, I’ll be able to hold my own."
He meant it. After unlocking intent, Leo felt like he had finally found the cheat code.
The clarity he’d experienced during his fight with Aegon had been nothing short of revelatory.
For the first time, he could see it.
See the direction of an opponent’s killing intent.
Where they wanted to strike. When they were about to strike.
It felt like seeing into the future.
Charles, however, just laughed—a full-bellied, knee-slapping laugh that echoed across the courtyard.
"HAHAHA! Oh, son..." he exhaled, wiping a small tear off his eye.
"Just because you’ve unlocked intent doesn’t mean you’ve mastered it. Hell, it doesn’t even mean you understand what it is."
Leo blinked, thrown off.
"What do you mean? My odds of taking you on in a fight should mathematically be better now, than they were before I unlocked intent, right?" He asked, as Charles took out a cigarette and lit it with a flick of his thumb.
"Mathematically? Your odds haven’t improved at all," He said, as Leo frowned.
"That makes no sense. I fought Aegon. I saw the thread of intent before every one of his attacks. That’s how I blocked him. If I can do the same with you, I should be a better fighter, at least on paper, yeah?" Leo asked, as Charles nodded in agreement.
"Right. And how many threads did you see?" Charles asked, as Leo hesitated.
"Just... one." He said, as listening to that response Charles smirked yet again.
Seeing a single thread of intent was the limit of Leo’s current capability.
Whether he was on the offense or defense, there was only ever a single crimson thread.
If he aimed for his opponent’s elbow since he saw a weak spot there, then the thread extended from his body and pointed there.
Conversely, if Veyr aimed for his neck, the thread would glow from Veyr’s blade to his throat.
It was simple.
Direct.
A guiding line from point A to B.
"That’s your problem," Charles said. "You’re still seeing intent as a line. One thread. One attack. One weakness."
Then, without warning, Charles let loose a pulse of killing intent.
Leo’s breath caught.
Suddenly, hundreds—no, thousands of red threads exploded from Charles’s body, like tendrils of death latching onto every inch of Leo’s skin.
His chest, throat, knees, armpits, ribs.... even the soles of his feet were tethered.
And this was his situation when Charles wasn’t even holding a weapon.
"Wha—?" Leo staggered back instinctively.
This wasn’t just a show of force. It was visual confirmation of how thoroughly outmatched he was.
His entire body was a weak spot in front of Charles. Every square inch.
Panicked, Leo drew a dagger and tried to scan Charles for weak points, thinking that surely there’d be some flaw within the monarch’s defence that he could exploit now that he had unlocked intent.....
However, to his disappointment, nothing appeared.
Not a single thread.
Charles stood relaxed, cigarette between his fingers, not even in a combat stance... and yet Leo couldn’t find even one opening to strike.
"Why don’t you have any weak points?" Leo asked. "Why can’t I hurt you?"
Charles exhaled smoke slowly, lips curling in amusement.
"Because you’re still just peeking through a keyhole, boy."
He let the words settle.
"Intent isn’t about seeing one thread. True mastery means seeing every possibility... and hiding your own. You’re still at the beginner’s level, reacting to one intent at a time. But the deeper you go, the more you’ll realize—real fighters don’t fight with one thread. They fight with millions"
Leo lowered his blade, sobered.
The illusions of strength that had buoyed within him since his duel with Aegon now seemed childish..... Laughable, even.
He wasn’t strong.free\we\bnov(e)(l).com
He wasn’t close.
He was still just a frog in the well.
And now... he finally understood just how deep the ocean above him really was.
"HAHAHAHAHA—-" Charles chuckled, as he pointed at Leo’s face and laughed.
"You think what you’re seeing is terrifying?" Charles asked, his voice unusually grim, as his pupils narrowed, likely from dredging up a memory buried deep in time.
A memory not just of violence, but of witnessing a presence so overwhelming that even recalling it seemed to weigh down the air around them.
"If this meagre display of strength is enough to frighten you, boy, then you’re nowhere near ready to stand in front of Soron."freew\ebno\vel..(c)om
He paused for just a moment, letting the silence stretch.
"Because when Soron unleashes his killing intent, it’s not just you that gets caught in it. It’s the entire third dimension. Every inch of space. Every molecule of air. Every single atom within reach is tethered to his will in a web of red so dense, it makes the concept of escape laughable."
He lifted his eyes and met Leo’s gaze without blinking.
"Not just your body, but the entire fabric of space around you becomes laced with his presence. Up, down, sideways, forward, backward... it doesn’t matter. There is no direction you can move in that does not already belong to him. It’s as if, the moment he decides you’re his target... you’re already dead. You just haven’t realized it yet."
As Charles’s words settled, Leo felt an involuntary chill climb up his spine, crawling through every nerve like icewater.
His earlier discomfort he felt when Charles unleashed his killing intent, now paled in comparison to the raw dread taking root within him, as despite all his training, despite all he had endured to reach this point, he realized just how far he still remained from touching the realm of true power.
If standing before Charles had made him feel helpless, then standing before Soron.... someone who could drown an entire dimension in murderous will was a concept that remained still inconceivable to him.
Yet even so, Charles’s words had offered him a slight glimpse into the brutal truth of the power scale of the universe.
And that truth was that when a God moved... the entire third dimension became a part of the battlefield.
And everything within it, whether living or not, became a part of the kill.