Chapter 723: [Final Event] [Blood Moon Festival] [5] Leon And Kleah

"The look of despair people make... right when they realize what they’re actually going through—that helpless, hollow stare—it’s one of the best sights there is, don’t you think?"

The man’s voice was calm and amused. A soft chuckle followed, echoing through the narrow tunnel beneath the bridge.

It was the middle of the night. The road above was empty, forgotten. Down here, only two of the ceiling lights still worked, flickering weakly against the damp walls. Shadows swayed with every pulse of that dying light, leaving most of the tunnel drowned in darkness.

A faint click broke the silence—then a burst of orange flame from a lighter. The man spun it between his fingers, letting the small fire bloom and fade as it caught on his cigarette. The glow brushed against his face, outlining the rough stubble on his jaw and the black patch that covered his right eye.

He sat slouched against the wall, legs stretched out, looking at the broken figure across from him.

Leon lay on the cold ground, gasping. His face was swollen, blood drying in streaks along his jaw. Every breath sounded like it hurt. He had taken a beating from Rickward’s men—if those five brutes were really his men at all.

The ambush had been fast, cruel. One moment, he and Gladys were walking home. The next, they were surrounded. And now...

Leon’s eyes, red and wet with tears, turned toward her. Gladys lay only a few feet away, naked, motionless. Her skin was pale under the flickering light, her body bruised and broken. She had been defiled until she could barely breathe. And all the while, Leon had been forced to watch.

When it was over, Rickward killed the others himself—five quick deaths, their bodies slumping one after another. Then, as if nothing had happened, he sat down beside Leon, speaking like an old friend sharing a memory.

"I like it, personally," Rickward said, placing a cigarette between his lips and lighting it. The flame’s glow caught his smile, thin and crooked. He exhaled a stream of smoke that coiled lazily upward. "I used to work in a hospital, you know. Boring job. But I made it interesting. Sold the bodies of women in comas to private clients. They could... do whatever they wanted, as long as they paid up."

He smiled wider, smoke escaping through his teeth. "It was going great, honestly. The women never knew a thing. But then my brother-in-law found out. Said he’d report me. Would’ve been the end of me if he wasn’t married to my dear sister. So I told him to give me a few days to turn myself in. And the idiot agreed."

Rickward crouched, his tone lowering into a hiss. "He’s still out there, you know. Living happily with his wife and kids. Completely unaware of what I’ve got planned for him—and that perfect little family of his."

He stepped closer to Leon, who was inching forward, trying desperately to reach Gladys. Just as Leon’s trembling fingers brushed the floor near her, Rickward slammed his boot down on his hand, grinding it against the cold concrete.

Leon let out a broken groan, too weak to scream.

Rickward bent down, his shadow swallowing the faint light. His smile lingered—sharp, venomous, full of pure malice.

"That woman was good," Rickward said, smiling as if he were admiring a finished painting. "Thankfully you left her warm for me, Leon."

Leon’s body shook—not with cold, but with a rage that made his limbs tremble. He hauled his head up, eyes burning. "I—I will... kill—"

"Shhh." Rickward cut him off. He dragged the smoldering tip of his cigarette across Leon’s forehead. Leon spat a raw, animal sound of pain, twisted and writhing beneath the boot that pinned him to the concrete. Rickward’s foot kept him pinned down.

"Blame the gods and fate for handing you one of the Sins," Rickward said. He smirked, then removed his boot lazily. Grabbing a near-empty bottle of cheap liquor, he tipped it and forced the contents down Leon’s throat. Leon choked and gagged, trying to breathe through the burn, but Rickward kept pouring until the bottle was empty. When he was done, he flung the glass aside as if it were trash.

Then, without ceremony, he hauled Leon upright by the back of the neck and dragged him across the cold, gritty floor. Leon’s fingers scrabbled toward Gladys, clawing at the one thing in the world he wanted to save, but every inch he gained was ripped away by Rickward’s rough grip. Half-conscious, delirious and exhausted, Leon kept whispering her name.

"Gl—Gladys..."

***

Leon woke with a start. The room rushed in—familiar, solid, and warm—dragging him back from the edge of whatever nightmare had held him. He bolted upright so fast his heart hammered; his lungs felt like they’d been filled with gravel. Sweat plastered his shirt to his back, and his hands trembled as he rubbed at his face.

"Kleah?" He whispered.

She sat on the edge of the bed, hair mussed, eyes wide with worry. Her fingers found his shoulder and patted him.

"You okay?" She asked softly.

"Yeah." He nodded. "It was just a dream. The day’s coming—I can’t help being on edge."

"You’re going to take Wrath and Sloth from Edward..." Kleah said lowering her gaze.

Leon nodded. "Yeah."

"If you do that," she whispered, voice nearly breaking, "he’ll die."

Leon let that hang in the air. "Like any Avatar losing their Sin."

Kleah’s hands clenched in her lap. "B—But..." Her voice trembled. Her conflict was visible, small fingers pressing into palms until the knuckles whitened. Leon knew what she was thinking. Nyrel Loyster—someone she’d known back on Earth. He was a close friend of her.

"I know you care about him," Leon said, "but Edward isn’t Nyrel. He only has Nyrel’s memories."

Kleah’s eyes flashed. "Then what about you, Leon?" She asked, tears threatening to spill. "Wouldn’t that mean you’re Edward with Leon’s memories?"

"My case is different. I chose it. I erased Amael’s presence from this body. I’m in control." He didn’t say it arrogantly—but just matter of fact.

Nihil had merged both of them and Leon completely erased the influence of Amael inside him.

"Nihil did things differently with Amael. He didn’t just copy the old method and hope for the best." Leon’s eyes narrowed.

He had no idea how he did differently with Nyr but it was different. Nihil made sure to not reproduce the same mistake and gave most influence to Amael.

"What about Kleines... do you really think he’ll hold up his end of the deal?" Kleah asked then.

"Kleines only wants his son back," he said. "Amael’s soul is bound to his body like any other—tethered. Nyrel’s soul, though, is inside Wrath. Once I take control of it, Kleines will probably thank me. All he wants is to reclaim his son."

Kleah frowned, her fingers tightening on the blanket. "Putting Kleines aside, I don’t trust the people behind him. The Iris Project... they’re dangerous."

Leon gave a humorless smile. "There won’t be any problem. I’ll be ready. Once I take the Sins, they won’t have the power to touch me."

It was a nice line, but even Leon knew it was half a lie. There was an uneasy balance between Ante Eden and the Iris Project—a fragile, temporary alliance built on shared convenience rather than trust. Both sides were already sharpening their knives behind each other’s backs.

Kleines himself wasn’t truly part of the Iris Project. He was a desperate man chasing a ghost, trying to reclaim the son he’d lost to Wrath. But those backing him wanted something entirely different. They wanted Wrath itself—and Sloth with it. Power disguised as salvation.

Leon understood that game far too well.

In the first timeline, he had barely interacted with them. He had planned to erase them entirely once he dealt with Edenis Raphiel. But before he could, Nevia had destroyed everything—his plans, his preparations, his world—and thrown him into this one.

This time, though, he wasn’t going to lose.

Seeing that Kleah had still a gloomy expression, Leon reached out and brushed a thumb against her cheek. "I promise you," he said quietly, "in the new world, the new timeline, everything will be fine. Nyrel and all your friends will be there. But until then... we have to fight. We have to shut down what we feel."

Kleah grasped his hand, holding it tightly against her cheek as her tears slid down. "And Sylvia? The others? Can we really trust them?"

Leon shook his head immediately. "No. Not Ante Eden, not Sylvia, not any of them."

He didn’t trust a single one of them.

Sure, they’d given him full control in dealing with Wrath and Sloth, even dressed it up as a gesture of faith. But it was far too easy, far too convenient. Sylvia especially wasn’t a woman to underestimate. She had her own agenda.

Leon knew the truth. The real purpose of Ante Eden was Samael’s resurrection as always it had been.

Maybe they were simply watching him for now, waiting to see if he could actually handle Wrath and Sloth. If he succeeded, maybe they’d consider him a suitable vessel. But Leon had no intention of becoming Samael. He had never cared about that being, divine or not. He had joined Ante Eden for one reason only: to reach his goal.

He needed every Sin—each fragment Samael—to rise to the level of a Primordial God. Then he would find Emilia Raonpherys... and Nevia. With all three, he could create a new timeline, one he could shape and control. But creating a new timeline and obtaining control over it wasn’t easy, that was why he needed Lucifer Morningstar’s power. At least that was what they told him but Leon couldn’t deny that there was definitely truth in it.

He might even need Eden but he had to take things steps by steps.

And then, one by one every enemy would be erased—starting with Rickward.

"Don’t worry," he said, almost absently. "They won’t be a threat for long. Once I hold three Sins, they’ll kneel. And ’he’ is already prepared to do what I asked. Amael will fall the same way I once did."

A faint smirk touched his lips. "Some things never change. Some things are just... written."

He looked toward the window. "Amael Idea Olphean... Edward Falkrona... whichever name he wears, his fate is the same. He’ll die in Sancta Vedelia, this very year, under the light of the Blood Moon Festival."

In the first timeline, Leon had died—or something close to it.

That day, Amael ceased to exist within his own body. Leon however survived only through Lucifer’s power, clinging to life by a thread. Whether Lucifer had his own schemes or not didn’t matter to Leon anymore. What mattered was that he lived—and that he would make sure they all died.

A new world for him and Kleah. That was enough.

"I’m just... scared," Kleah said with a small voice.

Leon glanced at her. The fear wasn’t new—just deeper now, carved into her over time. The enemy they were facing wasn’t a name or a face anymore. It was a shadow—an unseen hand that had twisted their fates and hunted every one of her friends from Earth.

They knew almost nothing about them. Only one thing was certain: Rickward was involved.

Both Leon and Kleah suspected that Eden—or someone tied to him—was part of the force targeting the Sin Holders and everyone close to them. It wouldn’t surprise Leon. Eden had always been cruel enough for that. But for Kleah, the thought stirred something darker: doubt.

Eden was a monster in her eyes, but... was he truly the one behind it? Or was there something worse, something deeper still?

"I promise you, they’ll pay for what they did. Gladys, the others... all of them." Leon drew Kleah close, his arms wrapped around her trembling form. His left eye gleamed black in the dim light—then deepened, a pool of endless darkness. "Every last one of them will pay."

Kleah clung to him, her tears damp against his chest. "Don’t leave me alone again..."

"I won’t," Leon whispered, stroking her hair. "Never again."

"You seem to be enjoying yourself, Leon Grimlock."

"...!"

Without hesitation, Leon spun and summoned a sword, hurling it like lightning. The sword cut through the air with a thunderous speed, slamming through the wall—only a blur of motion had saved the intruder’s head.

"Is that how you greet a colleague?" The masked man asked casually, crossing his arms. His mask was deep blue, a mark of Nemes etched faintly along the edges.

Leon’s expression hardened. He knew that mask.

Ante Eden—an organization with two faces.

The world saw one side: Brandon Delavoic led that side. Sylvia, Lisandra, and Jasmine were also part of it. That was the public face that Leon also led in the first timeline.

But beneath it, buried deep, was the true face: the Inner Circle. The ones devoted solely to one thing—Samael’s resurrection.

Kleah stepped back instinctively. She wasn’t sensing power equal to Leon’s, but there was something wrong about the man.

Leon vanished and reappeared beside him, his sword pressing against the man’s throat before the masked intruder could blink. "What are you doing here?" Leon asked coldly.

"You’ve recovered well, Lord Grimlock. But the Goddess of Fate dealt you lasting damage. You should be careful. You don’t belong to this timeline, please remember it."

"I asked you a question." The blade pressed closer, a drop of blood sliding down from where the edge kissed his skin.

"They sent me to check on you," the man replied easily. "To ensure you’re ready to claim the Sins. Sancta Vedelia has lost a Demigod—it’s the perfect moment to strike."

Leon’s eyes narrowed. How the hell did they know that? Only the highest nobles of Sancta Vedelia knew Lazarus Raven’s true nature. The only person who could’ve told him that might be the one Leon was working with directly to take the Sins from Amael.

However Leon doubted he would tell anything. Leon knew about his secret after all and he doubted he would risk anything exposing his true identity.

Then another possible answer: a spy, planted deep within Sancta Vedelia’s inner circle.

Or maybe simply, Earth told them? He was also a high ranking noble though Leon had no idea who exactly was aware of Lazarus Raven’s crimes and imprisonment. But it wouldn’t be surprising that Leon told them since from the beginning he worked for them, they were the ones who reincarnated him there actually and thought he joined later Leon’s side, the latter never trusted him. He had his own ally in Sancta Vedelia.

"I know what I’m doing," Leon said coldly.

"I hope so, Lord Grimlock," the man replied. "But if one of the Eyes of Xenos Arvatra appears... things could become complicated. Consider this a warning."

"Warn me?" Leon’s aura flared, a dark wave that pressed against the air violently. His Demigod presence filled the room, bending the shadows around them.

The masked man’s knees nearly buckled, but he endured it—barely. "You should know," he said hoarsely, "they don’t forgive failure. Especially when the Sins are at stake."

Blood trailed from his neck where the sword had bitten deeper. Still, he managed a shallow bow before stepping back into the darkness. Within seconds, he was gone—his presence snuffed out as if it had never been there.

Leon stood still for a moment, before putting away the sword.

Kleah approached quietly, her eyes full of worry. "Leon... who was that?"

"Nothing," he said quietly before turning around.

Was that a threat?

Did they really dare to threaten him knowing very well what he was capable of? He had Pride and Lucifer Morningstar’s Legacy.

Whatever, it didn’t matter since he will get those Sins in the end.