A squad of heavily armored estate guards rushed into the square, but their shouts trembled almost as much as the steel in their hands. Lexel paid them absolutely no heed. He turned on his heel and began dragging the choking representative through the cobblestone streets by the scruff of his fine silk collar.
"Lexel!" Anthierin called out, running to catch up to him.
"It has to be done," Lexel stated flatly, his golden eyes locked dead ahead.
He ignored her inquiry just as completely as he ignored the guards swarming around him. The soldiers managed to close the distance, pointing their trembling blades at his back, but the sheer, domineering aura rolling off Lexel's broad shoulders completely paralyzed them. They didn't dare strike. Instead, they ended up awkwardly escorting him through the city out of pure terror.
The bizarre procession finally arrived at the towering, reinforced wrought-iron gates of the Baron's private estate.
Lexel didn't even slow his pace. He simply raised his free hand and casually slapped the heavy metal structure.
BANG.
The explosive impact echoed like a cannon shot. The towering iron gates were completely blown off their massive stone hinges, twisting violently through the air before crashing into the pristine courtyard beyond, ripping up chunks of imported marble.
"I-Impossible..." one of the guards stammered, the sword slipping from his sweaty grip and clattering to the floor.
"No way..." another whispered, his shoulders instantly slumping in utter defeat.
Any lingering hostility from the guards vanished into the wind. There was absolutely no meaning in fighting Lexel. Armor, weapons, and numbers meant nothing against a walking natural disaster. He wasn't a man; he was a monster.
Standing amidst the settling dust and shattered iron, Lexel looked past the ruined courtyard. His golden eyes locked onto the heavy mahogany double doors of the Baron's main manor.
A slow, predatory smirk spread across his face.
—
Inside his lavish private chamber, the Baron of Einjaar was aggressively enjoying his midday feast. He slurped rich meat straight from the bone, thick grease glistening on his chin and dripping down onto his straining, pot-bellied stomach.
His ears twitched. A chaotic crescendo of frantic shouting, heavy thudding, and panicked footsteps echoed from the corridors outside.
"Keep it down out there!" the Baron roared, his face flushed with gluttonous rage.
A second later, the unmistakable sound of multiple stained-glass windows violently shattering echoed right outside his chamber.
"What in the name of—"
*BAM!
The heavy oak doors of his private chamber exploded inward. A man came flying through the air like a discarded ragdoll, crashing face-first onto the end of the long dining table. The man violently slid down the polished mahogany, plowing through silver platters, roasted birds, and crystal wine glasses, completely obliterating the entire lunch before tumbling into a pathetic heap on the floor.
"Huh?" The Baron blinked, peering over the ruined feast at the groaning, gravy-soaked man. His eyes widened as he instantly recognized the stained silk collar of his own official spokesman.
Then, heavy, deliberate footsteps echoed from the ruined doorway.
The Baron slowly turned his head. His pupils shrank to absolute pinpricks.
Standing in the shattered doorframe, casting a massive, terrifying shadow across the room, was the walking natural disaster himself.
"Y-You..." the Baron stammered, all the blood draining from his face as his triple chin quivered. "You're dead?!"
Lexel slowly cracked his knuckles, a terrifying, dark grin stretching across his face. "Well, I guess you're joining in then."
"W-Wait! What are you—!"
*CRASH!
A massive, ornate glass window exploded outward from the second floor of the manor, raining glittering shards down onto the estate's ruined courtyard.
The gathered crowd of commoners, merchants, and trembling guards shrieked as one. They looked up just in time to see a massive, spherical shadow hurtling through the air.
There was absolutely no mistaking those luxurious, custom-tailored silk robes, or the sheer, mountainous circumference of the man's belly.
It was the Baron.
He plummeted toward the earth, landing with a meaty, earth-shaking THUD that cracked the courtyard paving stones.
A collective gasp sucked the air out of the courtyard, followed instantly by an eruption of frantic, disbelieving shouts.
"By the Gods! Is that the Baron?!" a baker yelled, completely dropping his basket of bread.
"The spokesman just announced the Champion was dead!" a merchant shouted, pointing a trembling finger up at the shattered window. "Does that man look dead to you?!"
"He threw him," a blacksmith muttered, his jaw hanging open. "He actually threw the lord of the city out a window..."
The untouchable ruler of the city—the man who ruled with an iron fist and taxed them into poverty—groaned in absolute, pathetic agony. He rolled onto his hands and knees, his triple chin quivering, before violently puking up the remainder of his greasy, half-digested feast all over the crushed stone.
The illusion of his absolute power completely shattered.
"Look at him," a commoner near the back whispered, not even trying to hide his dark amusement. "Squealing like a stuck pig."
Up on the second floor, Lexel casually stepped into the shattered window frame. He looked down at the groaning noble with a look of supreme, unbothered satisfaction.
Without hesitating, Lexel stepped off the ledge.
He plummeted from the second story and landed perfectly. His heavy boots cracked the cobblestones slightly as he absorbed the impact with monstrous, effortless grace.
"Get back! Move!" the crowd screamed, violently surging backward and practically climbing over each other to get out of his immediate radius. It was like watching a dragon casually land in the town square.
Even the remaining estate guards completely broke.
"I'm not doing this!" one of the guards shouted, unbuckling his sword belt and throwing it onto the dirt. "I don't get paid enough to fight a monster!"
Several others immediately followed suit, dropping their spears and abandoning their posts. They wanted absolutely nothing to do with the man who treated their lord like a discarded sack of flour.
A second later, the front doors of the manor swung open. Anthierin jogged down the stone steps, ignoring the panicking guards, and immediately took her place firmly by Lexel's side. She looked at the puking Baron, then up at Lexel, a mixture of exasperation and absolute awe on her face.
Lexel folded his massive arms across his broad chest, his shadow looming over the disgraced, trembling lord.
Lexel didn't wait for an excuse. He drew back his heavy boot and delivered a brutal, ribs-cracking kick to the Baron's expansive side.
The fat lord rolled over like an overstuffed barrel, violently puking across his own pristine courtyard. He scrambled onto all fours, coughing up a sickening mixture of blood, bile, and half-digested boar as Lexel slowly advanced on him.
"Kain tried to kill me in my sleep!" Lexel's voice boomed, amplified by his monstrous lung capacity. It echoed off the stone walls, making absolutely sure every single person in the square heard the raw truth. "And your precious daughter poisoned my drink!"
The crowd gasped. The frightened murmurs instantly mutated into an absolute uproar. Treason, assassination, and poisoning—the ruling family's treachery was laid completely bare in front of the entire city.
Lexel ignored the sputtering lord at his feet. He turned his back to the Baron, sweeping his glowing golden gaze over the terrified aristocrats and wealthy merchants hiding among the commoners.
"Nobles!" Lexel called out, a dark, mocking grin playing on his lips. "I know you've all been secretly eyeing this man's throne. A throne wide enough to fit two grown men's asses!"
A few shocked gasps and highly inappropriate, nervous chuckles escaped the crowd.
"Well, you better come up with a climax soon," Lexel declared, his voice dropping into a chilling, absolute promise that sent shivers down every spine in the courtyard. "Because the escalation is over."
The Baron spat a mouthful of blood, his eyes wide with sudden, paralyzing terror as he looked up at Lexel's broad back. "N-No! No, no, wait! I have gold! I can—"
Anthierin took a sudden step forward, her breath hitching as she recognized the dangerous, predatory shift in Lexel's posture. "Lexel, you're not going to—"
She was a fraction of a second too late.
Lexel didn't even look down. He simply stepped backward, planting his heavy boot directly onto the center of the Baron's quivering back. Using the lord's spine as a springboard, Lexel leaped high into the air.
He hung at the apex of his jump for a single, terrifying heartbeat.
[Tiger Stomp]
Lexel plummeted. His heel drove downward with accelerated, meteor-like velocity.
*SQUELCH.
*BOOM.
The impact triggered a concussive shockwave that violently spider-webbed the remaining courtyard stones. The Baron's head simply ceased to exist, exploding like a crushed melon under the sheer, ungodly force of Lexel's heel. A spray of crimson violently painted the shattered cobblestones.
Lexel landed cleanly amidst the settling dust, completely unfazed by the gore at his feet.
The silence of an annihilation ensued.
His shadow loomed not as a champion, but as a butcher with no hesitation— a warlord.