Chapter 12: Sleep, Little Brother
A thunderous crash echoed through the ruined city square as Leon plummeted from the sky like a blazing comet, his sword a streak of molten flame. With a final roar, he drove it deep into the Bloodhound's chest. The ground split beneath them, a shockwave rippling outward, silencing all movement for a breathless moment.
When the dust finally settled, Leon stood tall atop the Bloodhound's corpse, steam hissing from his blade still embedded in the beast's ruined chest. Blood pooled beneath its twitching limbs. The monster—mutated, deranged, once thought invincible—lay defeated.
Leon yanked his sword free with a flourish, twirling it once before planting it on the ground and striking a ridiculously over-the-top pose. One hand rested on his hip while the other gripped the hilt of his sword, and his chiseled jaw tilted upward. His eyes narrowed in a mock attempt at intensity as he delivered his finest impression of the "smolder", a look he'd shamelessly perfected from old heroic murals and theatre plays.
Elena burst out laughing, clutching her stomach, her face contorted with amusement. Even the exhausted Duke cracked a weak smile.
Behind them, the black-cloaked figure of the Black Dragon Knight emerged from the shadows. He silently sighed and shook his head.
"Thank the stars the other brothers aren't as cringy as this one," he thought dryly.
As Leon maintained his dramatic pose—now with a raised eyebrow added for flair—the crowd slowly trickled into the square. Mercenaries, guards, and adventurers limped forward, dragging wounded comrades or helping citizens still dazed from the earlier chaos.
The Duke, still pale and bloodstained but bolstered by Elena's healing magic, stepped forward with effort. He raised his sword skyward, the steel gleaming in the morning light.
"We have prevailed!" he shouted.
A roar erupted from the crowd. Cheers filled the air, but they were laced with weeping and the sound of mourning. Many fell to their knees as they saw the faces of loved ones among the dead. The city was saved—but it had come at a heavy cost.
Bodies lined the cobbled streets, some crushed by debris, others torn apart by demon claws. Buildings stood cracked, windows shattered, and blood ran in small rivulets through the gutters. The devastation was everywhere.
By the Evening, the square was cleared of civilians, and a massive fire pit had been dug in the center. The bodies of demons and cultists were heaped together and burned, their flesh crackling under purifying flame. The smoke curled skyward like a pillar of sorrow.
Elena stood to the side, eyes fixed on the flames, calculating silently. The city had suffered terrible losses: over a third of its infrastructure was ruined. Hundreds had died, and many more were injured or missing. Her mind, trained in logic and political management, raced through the numbers and long-term consequences.
A warm voice broke her thoughts.
"You've done more than enough," the Duke said, approaching her. He gestured toward the estate atop the hill. "Come, rest. You've earned it."
Leon, ever the opportunist, threw his arm around the Duke's shoulders before he could finish.
"Say no more, my Lord. I shall graciously accept your royal hospitality—bed, bath, and buffet."
The Duke sighed as a muscle in his cheek twitched. The Black Dragon Knight, who had just returned, pinched the bridge of his nose beneath his mask.
As the group moved toward the estate, Elena noticed Bernard limping beside her, his armor battered and bloodstained. Without a word, she placed a hand on his shoulder and, drawing upon the faint reserves of mana she had managed to collect and cast a gentle healing spell. The warm glow wrapped around him like a balm.
Bernard gave her a faint nod.
"Thank you," he said. His voice was quiet, but for a moment, his impassive eyes softened.
Once they arrived at the estate, servants rushed to prepare rooms, baths, and food. The survivors were treated with the reverence of heroes. And yet, despite the comfort, silence lingered—echoing the price of survival.
Elena lay on her bed, staring at the ceiling. Her muscles ached, but her mind refused to rest.
This city had been utterly destroyed in her past life. Its citizens massacred. Yet now… here it stood, scarred but alive. Her presence and Bernard's had changed fate.
The Bloodhound had never mutated in her original timeline. That meant the enemy was adapting, evolving in response to their interference.
"The future is no longer fixed," she whispered to herself. "Which means I must prepare for anything."
As exhaustion claimed her body, her mind drifted to a face—not one of pain or rage, but calm, powerful, and untouchable.
Dragonguard.
A smile played across her lips as sleep took her.
High above
Leon sat on the estate's roof, legs dangling over the edge as he gazed at the starlit sky. For once, there was no smirk on his face—just a distant look, touched by nostalgia.
The Black Dragon Knight emerged behind him, his steps silent. He said nothing for a while, only watched the young man above him.
Eventually, he spoke, voice barely above a whisper.
"Thinking of the past again?"
Leon didn't answer. Not immediately. Because he was.
Flashback - Fifteen Years Ago
He had been ten.
A weak, scrawny kid from a nameless village. He never knew his father, but he had his mother—gentle, strong, the entire world to him.
The village boys mocked him for being fatherless, for crying too easily. But he was happy.
Until the night of fire.
Demons came without warning, tearing through the village, leaving nothing but screams and ash. Just when Leon thought salvation had arrived—when the Lord Viscount's army arrived and crushed the last demon—the noble turned on them. Survivors rounded up like cattle, to be sold as slaves.
Leon's mother grabbed him and ran. Through forests and fear. Three days of starvation and terror later, they reached a massive gorge. A massive chasm, stretching endlessly.
From the Forest behind them, a growl echoed.
Demons, remenants of the raid.
Five of them. Lean, snarling, their eyes glowing red.
Leon's mother stepped forward, shielding her son. Her legs trembled, but she stood tall.
Leon couldn't breathe. The fear in her eyes made something snap inside him.
Leon shook with fury.
But it wasn't him shaking. It was the gorge.
The gorge shook. From its depths, a sword wrapped in flames soared in to the sky and landed in Leon's hands. Power surged through him—knowledge, instinct, fury. He spoke, without knowing why:
"By blade and breath, I stand unbroken...Through darkness and despair, my spirit remains alight...I vow to hunt the night's terrors, to shield the innocent,And to strike without hesitation against the forces of evil.No fear shall sway me, no pain shall stop me...I will be their end...This is my oath—sworn in blood, forged in fire."
The demons felt extreme fear and immense Power gathering through Leon and charged him before he could finish gathering that power. He struck them down one after another with terrifying grace, like a seasoned warrior, He didn't understand how—only that he could.
But the threat was not over.
A monstrous presence rose from the nearby forest. A behemoth of twisted flesh and bone, twelve meters tall, its roar shook the trees. Attracted by the noise and smell of prey, it stared at Leon and his mother.
Leon charged. The sword felt like a part of him. But the beast was too strong—it swatted him away like a fly.
As his body crashed into a boulder, he saw the creature looming over his mother.
He screamed.
"STOP!"
But no one listened.
Not his mother.
Not the behemoth.
Not the dead demons.
And then.....
The sky cracked.
(Pov of ten-year-old Leon)
Lightning split the clouds with a deafening roar. Wind blasted the forest, ripping leaves from the trees. The air shimmered with heat and electricity. The behemoth paused.
Then a new sound came.
A sound Leon would never forget.
Wings. Giant, heavy wings.
And something fell from the sky.
A streak of silver and blue, scales glinting in the moonlight, thunder rippling behind it. A dragon.
Leon's jaw dropped. His fear vanished, swallowed by awe.
The dragon landed between them and the behemoth, the earth shaking with the impact. Its tail swiped, snapping trees like twigs. Its breath steamed in the cold night air.
On its back stood a boy.
No, not a boy.
A storm in the shape of a boy.
He wore Blue armor etched with Silver lines that pulsed like lightning veins. His hair was dark and wind-blown. His eyes, when they met Leon's, were the color of a storm.
Calm.
But terrifying.
He raised his hand.
Lightning danced in his palm.
"Valdora," he said softly. "Breath of the sky."
The dragon roared—a sound so massive it shook Leon's bones.
And then fire.
A torrent of white-blue flame poured from its mouth, engulfing the Behemoth. It screamed as its flesh burned.
The behemoth tried to run, but the boy was already in front of it.
He didn't blink. He didn't breathe.
He moved, and the world followed.
His blade slid from its sheath with a soft hiss.
One stroke. One flash.
The behemoth fell into two perfect halves.
Silence returned.
The boy stepped toward Leon. His armor sparked and hissed as magic cooled around him.
Leon was shaking. His knees gave out. He fell into the mud.
The boy knelt in front of him.
"Are you hurt?"
Leon stared, wide-eyed.
"Y-you… you have a dragon..."
The boy smiled. It was tired. But real.
"He's loud, isn't he?"
Leon nodded, dumbly.
"Who… who are you?"
The boy hesitated.
Then, with the gentlest expression, he answered:
"I'm your brother."
Leon's heart stopped.
"No. No, I don't… I don't have a brother…"
The boy tilted his head.
"You do now."
Leon stared at him. The storm eyes. The powerful hands. The dragon behind him.
"But you're… you're like a prince."
The boy laughed. Actually laughed.
It was rough and low, but there was warmth in it.
"I'm not a prince. I'm a Slayer."
He looked up toward the sky, where the stars had returned.
"And I'll never let anything take you away."
Leon opened his mouth to speak, but the world blurred.
Everything was spinning.
He felt arms around him.
Warm. Safe.
The last thing he heard before sleep took him—
Was the dragon's soft growl.
And his brother's voice:
"Sleep, little brother. I'll protect you now."
Back in the present
Leon blinked awake as dawn crept over the horizon. The Black Dragon Knight still stood behind him, arms folded.
Leon chuckled.
"You could've woken me up, y'know."
The knight shook his head.
"You were smiling in your sleep. I didn't want to interrupt."
Leon stretched, cracking his neck
"That obvious, huh?"
He turned, grinning.
"Well, guess it's time I finally introduced myself to the princess. Can't let big brother steal all the charm points."
He paused.
"I heard he danced with her. Tch. Bold move, brother. Don't worry… I've got your back."
And with a cocky swagger, Leon leapt from the rooftop, sword on his back, mischief in his heart.