Chapter 616

For a warrior whose existence was defined by the blade, the hand that gripped the hilt was as vital as breathing itself.

In a terrifying instant, that very hand had been brutally severed.

Overwhelmed by panic, Reid could do little more than clutch his bleeding stump and howl in agony. The raw physical torment radiating from the wound was immense, but the psychological devastation of losing his sword-hand was far more crippling.

“Which part of you should I sever next?”

That indifferent query cut through his hysteria, forcing Reid back to reality.

He was, after all, a champion acknowledged by the heavens—a man who had ascended to the rank of a legendary hero. No matter how profound the shock, he could not allow himself to wail like a child indefinitely while an adversary loomed over him.

Clutching his severed limb, Reid retreated rapidly, putting distance between himself and Leo. With his remaining strength, he retrieved the sword that his severed hand had still been holding.

That blade was the sacred heirloom of the Zerdinger clan, an ancient artifact infused with immense mystical power.

Switching the weapon to his left hand, Reid bared his teeth in a snarl.

‘I can still save my arm!’

Through high-level restoration magic, reattaching a severed limb was an easy feat. Fortuitously, Leo’s strike had been immaculately clean.

‘Rejoining the flesh will be effortless once this is over!’

Reid’s gaze burned with frantic determination.

‘Right now, my only priority is destroying this monster!’

“Guardians of the clan! Slay this blasphemous insurgent!”

At his desperate roar, a vanguard of warriors materialized, surrounding Leo and leveling their weapons at him.

Leo surveyed the surrounding perimeter, his countenance entirely devoid of emotion as he spoke.

“If you truly bear the blood of the Zerdinger house, step away. My purpose here is solely to execute a traitor.”

“Miserable fool!”

Reid erupted into a manic, mocking laugh, his face contorting with disdain.

“These men answer only to me! Do you honestly believe they would heed the words of an outsider?! And a traitor? Don’t make me laugh!”

Reid spat the words, his voice thick with venom.

“My only desire has been to elevate the Zerdinger name to the absolute pinnacle of heroism! The current patriarch, Seld Zerdinger, is pathetic and weak! He possesses immense strength yet refuses to wield it for greatness! Instead, he squanders our clan’s might in endless, futile skirmishes on the borders of Tartarus! And he is not the only blind one! That idiot Rwalin is just as short-sighted! As is the entire Imperial Court!”

Reid’s eyes gleamed with a feverish, fanatic light.

“Why waste our precious resources on a dead-end front like Tartarus?! Rhodran was never meant to be confined to the western lands! It is a empire destined to subjugate the entire world!”

Spurred on by the adrenaline and pain, Reid passionately screamed his twisted philosophy.

“Our house, the Zerdinger clan, must lead the charge! We must establish ourselves as the supreme power behind the throne! We must guide the monarchy and dominate this continent! That is how Zerdinger will become the greatest lineage of heroes in human history! This isn’t born of personal avarice! Anyone who genuinely cares for the future of our house must possess this grand ambition!”

“Is that the justification you used to form an alliance with the very global menace that slaughtered countless legendary champions in antiquity?”

“It was never an alliance! We are merely exploiting their resources for our own ends.”

“Every fool who fell before you used those exact words,” Leo replied calmly, lowering the tip of his blade. “Entirely blind to the fact that they were the ones being manipulated.”

The forces of Tartarus desired only one outcome: the fragmentation and ruin of civilization. If such entities managed to sway the leadership of the Zerdinger clan, the stability of the entire empire would crumble.

‘Is this another scheme orchestrated by that monster?’

Leo recalled the image of the Necrolord Hel Kaiser. That undead sovereign was a master of subversion and covert manipulation, drifting through the shadows of history to plant seeds of discord across the world. The Elven Pureblood Society had fallen into the exact same trap. They convinced themselves they were the masters of the exchange, but the moment they accepted that dark power, they handed over the very leverage that would undo them.

Yet, the short-sighted fools who shook hands with Tartarus never recognized their vulnerability.

‘Because they arrogantly assumed their raw power would allow them to crush their partners whenever they pleased.’

From the very beginning, the Necrolord never resorted to crude blackmail using the secret alliance. He simply allowed his puppets to believe they were using him, gradually guiding elven civilization toward self-destruction via the Pureblood Society. He merely set the stage for them to tear each other apart.

“I care nothing for the grand history of your empire, nor do I care for the legacy of your house.”

“Naturally. A bastard of your low status could never comprehend the heavy responsibilities of a true bloodline.”

“Perhaps. But you are uniquely unqualified to lecture anyone on the matter.”

“What did you say?!”

“The sovereign rulers of old… the ancient patriarchs of the Zerdinger line… and even the ancestral leaders of the Rwalin clan.” Leo’s crimson gaze locked onto Reid, pinning him in place. “None of them ever chose to launch wars of foreign conquest. Do you have any inkling as to why?”

“Our forefathers were tragically lacking in vision and ambition.”

“Wrong.” Leo’s eyes narrowed into sharp slits. “They chose peace so that this land could finally heal and become a sanctuary for life.”

Five millennia ago, during the cataclysmic Era of Ruin, the territory that suffered the most agonizing devastation was not the eastern lands where Tartarus first emerged, nor was it the frozen north or the southern expanses. It was the western continent. It had been the most advanced civilization, and consequently, it was reduced to the most thoroughly scorched and barren wasteland.

Even after the Great War concluded, the vast majority of what now comprised the Rhodran Empire remained heavily choked by the lingering corruption of Tartarus. The empire did not amass its vast borders by conquering neighbor nations; they earned it by reclaiming the blighted wilderness inch by inch from the monsters that had occupied it for centuries.

Today, it stood as the most fertile and prosperous realm in existence. It was a land that even Lysinas had once looked upon with despair, believing it could never recover from its wounds. Yet against all odds, it had transformed into the most vibrant and bountiful place on earth.

Leo, who carried the memories of that ancient era, understood precisely how much blood, sweat, and tears successive generations had poured into the soil to rebuild. The ancestors of the Zerdinger clan had tilled ash and risked everything they had so their descendants could know peace. To dismiss their noble sacrifice as a mere ‘lack of ambition’ was an insult of the highest order.

That selfless devotion was the very reason they were revered.

‘That is what it truly means to be a house of heroes.’

“The fire of the phoenix is sacred because it requires the wielder to burn away their own life force to eradicate wickedness. The progenitor of the Zerdinger line was granted that flame for that exact purpose.”

“A childish fantasy! If a man possesses ultimate power, why should he throw it away for the weak? That is the pinnacle of idiocy!”

“It is foolish,” Leo murmured, slowly closing his eyes. “But never forget this: the world continues to spin only because there have always been true champions willing to sacrifice everything for those noble ideals—the very ideals that parasites like you mock as foolishness.”

“Preposterous! A hero is defined by greatness and achievement! If I am a corrupt villain, how do you explain the heavens choosing me as a champion?!”

“A champion?” Leo tilted his head slightly, his expression vacant. “Who are you talking about?”

“You arrogant wretch! No matter how much you try to deny it, I bear the divine mark of the—!”

The mocking sneer died on Reid’s face, freezing into a mask of pure horror.

“You are not worthy of the title.”

[Heroic Status Revoked.]

A celestial decree manifested in his mind’s eye, and he intuitively understood its devastating meaning.

“You… what have you done?! What did you do to me?!”

He could not fathom how, but Leo’s mere words had stripped away his divine blessing.

“I did nothing but state the truth: you are no hero.”

“Slay him! What are you all waiting for?! Cut this bastard down immediately!” Reid shrieked to his guards.

“For the Council!”

The elite guardians of the Elder Council surged forward, closing the distance around Leo.

Thump.

Leo took a single, measured step forward.

Swifff—!

In a fraction of a second, a silver arc flashed, and the heads of the council’s elite guards severed from their shoulders in perfect unison, tumbling through the air.

Observing the immaculate strike from the periphery, Algs, the Northern Shadow Lord, breathed a word of pure awe: “Exquisite.”

There was no malice, no anger, and no theatricality in Leo’s swordsmanship. It was profoundly mechanical. He delivered death to the traitors with the casual indifference of a man performing a necessary chore. To Algs, the display felt less like a mortal duel and more like the cold, impartial hand of divine retribution.

Thud.

Leo turned his grey eyes toward Reid, the blade in his hand dripping crimson.

Thud.

Reid’s knees buckled under the sheer weight of the pressure, and he collapsed onto the stones. His entire frame shook with uncontrollable terror, his teeth chattering violently against one another.

Stomp. Stomp.

“P-please… spare… spare me…”

“You are granted two options,” Leo said, his voice entirely flat. “A swift end, or an agonizing demise.”

Reid’s instincts screamed the truth. The entity standing before him was the absolute manifestation of death itself. There was zero probability of survival.

“The… the first one… make it quick…”

As Reid whimpered his desperate plea, Leo looked down at him without a shred of pity.

“You chose the latter the moment you turned traitor.”

Thrust—!

“Gaaaaakh!”

Leo’s blade plunged directly through Reid’s open mouth. With a precise, surgical twist, the sword severed the tongue and shattered the jaw before being casually withdrawn.

Leaving Reid behind to writhe and thrash silently on the blood-soaked floor, unable to even scream through his ruined face, Leo turned his back and walked toward the Elder’s Corridor.

‘The coup has failed! I need to escape the Zerdinger estate immediately!’

Aggerson listened to the crackle of spreading flames and the echoing shrieks bouncing through the stone hallways of the Elder’s Corridor. His expression hardened into a grim mask as he sprinted toward a hidden escape passage.

The realization of their total defeat had struck him the moment the divine system notified them.

[Heroic Status Revoked.]

That singular event had instantly stripped Aggerson of his authority and pride. It wasn’t isolated to him, either; every single conspirator within the Elder Council had been stripped of their heavenly titles simultaneously. Stripped of their divine grace, the elders had broken formation and fled into the night like rats from a sinking ship.

To a warrior, the title of a chosen champion carried unmatched authority. They were viewed as apex beings selected by the gods to safeguard humanity, a living guarantee of moral nobility.

Aggerson’s rationale for employing the forbidden Hero Slayer had been calculated. Even if their dark deeds were eventually brought to light, he was still a divine champion. Once he consolidated absolute control over the Zerdinger clan, he could easily forge a narrative claiming he used the weapon for the greater good of the world. Even if the public condemned him initially, it would be a temporary setback. History was always recorded by the victors, and future generations would remember him as a visionary leader.

But without the divine title, that armor was gone. The council had lost their ultimate shield against retribution.

‘Curse it all! Why?! How could this happen?!’

Rage and a sense of profound injustice burned in Aggerson’s chest.

Stomp.

A figure stepped out from the shadows at the end of the corridor, blocking his path. Aggerson’s features twisted in immediate recognition.

“Regas!”

Regas looked upon his furious relative with cold detachment. “Surrender, Aggerson.”

“Don’t mock me! What crimes have I committed to deserve this fate?! My only sin was wanting my own flesh and blood to ascend to the head of this family!”

“The moment you resorted to shadow conspiracies and murder to fulfill your petty greed, you sealed your damnation.”

“Hah! You honestly believe the testimony of those wretched shadow agents? I maintain absolute ignorance regarding the Hero Slayer!”

“The Hero Slayer. I must admit, the Shadow Lords who patrol the world’s dark underbelly are remarkably efficient to have unearthed that piece of information so rapidly.”

Aggerson flinched, a cold sweat breaking out on his neck.

Regas’s gaze grew freezing. “You operated under the delusion that you commanded every shadow within the Zerdinger estate, but you were blind.”

Shhhk.

A silhouette detached itself from the absolute darkness behind Aggerson.

Aggerson’s body stiffened in horror.

“You were wrong,” Regas continued smoothly. “True shadows dwell far deeper within the dark spaces of our house than you could ever reach. Every single treasonous word you uttered within these walls was delivered directly to my ears.”

Aggerson ground his teeth so hard they threatened to shatter. “This is entirely your fault! If you hadn’t been so fiercely incompetent, our clan would have eclipsed the Rwalin family generations ago!”

“Our bloodline has never lacked exceptional prodigies,” Regas replied calmly. “But tell me, is surpassing the Rwalin clan truly the pinnacle of your existence?”

“Of course it is! And that would have been just the beginning! We could have forged the Zerdinger name into the unchallenged masters of all heroes! Yet you chose to cower in the corners! Complaining about bloodshed? You are a pathetic fool who cannot grasp that the few must bleed for the prosperity of the many! You, your pathetic wife, your miserable children—all of you are infected by the same idealistic delusions! If the seat of power had been mine, Zerdinger would already rule the Rhodran Empire!”

“Are those your final words to this world?”

“Damn you to hell!”

Aggerson unleashed a feral roar and lunged directly at Regas.

Regas didn’t even blink as his opponent closed the distance. “You seem to have overlooked a fundamental truth about our lineage, Aggerson. My father never inherited the title of patriarch merely because of his birthright. The same applied to our grandfather.”

In truth, Regas’s father—the patriarch from two generations prior—had been born a second son.

“There is only one reason I was chosen to lead this house.”

Slash—!

Thwack!

“…Uh?”

Aggerson’s vision spun wildly as his head was separated from his torso, sailing through the air.

“It is simply because my martial prowess completely eclipses yours. Just as my father’s strength eclipsed your father’s.”

Thud. Roll, roll, roll.

“Impossible… this cannot…” Aggerson’s dying thoughts fractured in absolute disbelief that a lifelong rivalry had been settled in a solitary, effortless stroke.

Regas looked down at the rolling head with total indifference. “Not all who bear the title of champion stand on equal footing. With a pathetic level of skill like yours, you would have dragged the Zerdinger name into utter ruin.”

Leo walked through the burning corridors of the Elder’s Office, systematically eliminating every hidden conspirator he encountered.

When he finally entered Aggerson’s primary study, he found Anya, Kirin, and Regas waiting for his arrival.

“Grandfather?”

Regas let out a rich, booming laugh. “The more I discover about my own grandson, the more I realize how little I knew. To think you commanded the hidden forces of the world’s darkness. It makes perfect sense why you never showed any interest in inheriting the clan’s mundane authority.”

‘The old man is sharper than he lets on,’ Leo thought, mildly impressed that his grandfather had secured the area so efficiently.

Anya stepped forward, interrupting his thoughts, and approached Leo with a solemn expression.

“Lord Leo, please examine this.”

Leo took the shimmering communication matrix Anya extended toward him.

“It is a specialized device constructed by the Hero Slayer.”

“…I can trace the fading magical resonance left behind on the frequency,” Leo murmured.

To any ordinary tracker, such a feat would be an impossibility. But Leo had spent millennia hunting down and executing traitors across the globe. Long before he was revered as the world’s strongest champion, he had been its premier shadow agent. His flawless execution of the traitors throughout the estate this evening demonstrated a tracking methodology that surpassed even the elite capabilities of the Shadow Lords.

Whirrrr—!

The matrix suddenly vibrated with life.

Leo’s eyes focused instantly as he channeled a precise current of mana into the artifact. The erratic vibrations ceased, stabilizing the connection.

A heartbeat later, a voice filtered through the crystal.

[Is that you, Leo Flovenia?]

The voice of the Hero Slayer echoed clearly in the quiet room.