Quiet Judgment Beneath a Burning Horizon

After understanding everything, Leon nodded and didn’t make things difficult for them.

The gesture was small—barely a movement—but to the Lavahound family members standing before him, it felt like a blade that had been hovering over their necks had suddenly withdrawn.

No pressure followed.

No cold killing intent.

Just... calm.

A calm so natural that it made their earlier fear feel almost foolish.

Leon stood there, his expression indifferent, his purple eyes reflecting nothing but quiet thought. The wind brushed against his midnight robes, lifting the amethyst threads into faint ripples of light.

Although they had offended Leon before, to the current Leon, the Lavahound family was nothing more than dust beneath his feet—something that could be swept away with a flick of a finger.

He did not take it to heart.

Nor did he have the patience to care.

In his eyes, strength drew the line between relevance and insignificance. And these people... no longer belonged on the side worth noticing.

They weren’t enemies.

They weren’t rivals.

They were simply... there.

And that was the most humiliating truth of all.

Leon’s gaze drifted past them, toward the distant wasteland beyond the city walls. His thoughts moved elsewhere—faster, sharper, already leaving this trivial matter behind.

Ants...

That was the simplest way to describe it.

Not in arrogance—but in perspective.

These ants were no longer a threat to him, but dealing with them would still be troublesome.

Not dangerous.

Just... tedious.

Like stepping on each one individually.

Too slow.

Too pointless.

Too beneath the time he had.

He had no interest in wasting his energy on something like that.

There were bigger things waiting.

More dangerous things.

Things that actually required his attention.

If he really decided to eliminate every person who had ever offended him...

He might spend his entire life doing nothing else.

And what would be the point of that?

Leon let out a faint breath.

I don’t have that kind of time...

More importantly—

He wasn’t someone who enjoyed killing.

He never had been.

His actions were simple.

Direct.

Driven by instinct, not obsession.

He killed when necessary.

When his mood aligned with it.

Nothing more.

Nothing less.

If he was in a good mood... he might let you live.

If he wasn’t—

Then even if you begged, screamed, or regretted everything...

It wouldn’t matter.

That was the kind of man he was.

Not cruel.

Not kind.

Just... honest to himself.

The air fell quiet for a moment.

Then—

"Let’s go."

Leon’s voice broke the silence, calm and steady.

He didn’t even look back as he spoke.

Harry Taylor blinked, snapping out of his daze. "Ah—yes, Teacher!"

He hurriedly straightened, but before leaving, he couldn’t resist turning his head slightly.

His eyes landed on Freddy Lavahound.

And just like that—

That familiar, annoying grin returned.

A grin that practically screamed victory.

Harry lifted his chin slightly, his expression smug, almost glowing with pride.

No words.

No insults.

Just that look.

You see this?

I’m walking with him.

What can you do about it?

Freddy’s fingers tightened unconsciously.

A faint crack echoed as his nails dug into his palm.

That single glance—

More humiliating than a slap.

Harry then turned away casually, as if Freddy wasn’t even worth another second of attention, and quickly caught up to Leon’s side.

Without hesitation—

Leon stepped forward and leapt down from the city wall.

His figure descended smoothly, robes flowing like dark water in the wind before landing lightly on the ground below.

Harry followed right behind him.

A beat later—

Both figures began heading toward the wasteland.

Toward the chaos.

Toward the unknown.

Their silhouettes grew smaller with each step.

But the pressure they left behind...

Lingering.

Heavy.

Unforgettable.

On the city wall—

Freddy stood frozen.

Watching.

Until they were nothing more than distant shadows.

Then—

BANG!

His fist slammed into the stone wall.

A dull, heavy sound echoed through the air.

"Damn it!" Freddy growled, his teeth clenched tight, his voice laced with frustration and disbelief. "Didn’t this kid offend Respected Leon before? How did he become Respected Leon’s follower in the blink of an eye?"

His voice wasn’t loud—

But it carried.

Raw.

Unfiltered.

It wasn’t just anger.

It was confusion.

And something deeper...

Something closer to unwilling jealousy.

He couldn’t understand it.

No matter how he thought about it—

It didn’t make sense.

Harry’s talent?

Average.

His background?

Inferior.

The Taylor family—

Weaker than the Lavahound family in almost every measurable way.

And yet—

That same person now stood beside someone like Leon.

Walking with him.

Following him.

Even being acknowledged by him.

While they—

Could only stand here.

Watching from a distance.

Freddy’s chest rose and fell heavily.

His mind churned.

Why him?

Why not me?

Beside him, Lavahound Elder observed quietly.

His aged eyes followed Leon’s departing figure for a long moment before slowly shifting to Harry... and then to Freddy.

There was no anger in his expression.

No surprise.

Only a faint, complicated sigh.

He stroked his beard gently, fingers moving through the strands as if sorting through thoughts that had long been forming.

"Sigh..."

The sound was soft.

But heavy.

"Harry Taylor..." he began, his tone calm, almost reflective, "...cannot be considered a genius."

Freddy frowned slightly.

"...but there is one thing in which he surpasses everyone."

He paused.

Letting the words settle.

Freddy turned toward him, brows furrowed.

"And that is..."

Lavahound Elder’s eyes flickered with something unreadable.

"...he is shameless."

Silence.

For a brief moment—

No one reacted.

Then—

"What?" Freddy’s expression twisted slightly, confusion overtaking his anger. "Elder... what do you mean?"

He stepped closer, genuinely puzzled now.

"This... this is your explanation?"

Behind them, the other experts also exchanged looks.

Some looked baffled.

Others uncertain.

But no one laughed.

Because Lavahound Elder... was not joking.

The old man gave a faint smile.

Not mocking.

Not amused.

Just... knowing.

"You don’t understand," he said quietly.

Freddy clenched his fists.

"Then explain it."

Lavahound Elder nodded slightly.

"Tell me," he said, turning his gaze fully toward Freddy now, "if you had offended someone like him..."

His eyes subtly shifted in the direction Leon had left.

"...would you dare to approach him again?"

Freddy froze.

His lips parted slightly.

But no answer came.

Because he already knew it.

No.

He wouldn’t.

He couldn’t.

Fear alone would stop him.

Pride would chain him in place.

Lavahound Elder continued, his voice steady.

"But Harry Taylor?"

A faint chuckle escaped him.

"He doesn’t care about pride."

"He doesn’t care about face."

"He doesn’t care about how others see him."

Freddy’s brows tightened.

"He only cares about one thing..."

Lavahound Elder’s gaze sharpened slightly.

"...getting closer."

"To survive."

"To gain."

"To rise."

"That kind of person..." he added softly, "...is far more dangerous than a so-called genius."

Freddy’s heart trembled.

Something in those words struck deeper than he expected.

Lavahound Elder looked toward the horizon again.

"That boy knew very clearly what kind of person he was dealing with."

"And he made a choice."

A pause.

"He chose to follow."

Freddy’s jaw tightened.

"But I—"

"You hesitated," Lavahound Elder cut him off calmly.

The words landed clean.

No hostility.

Just truth.

"And that hesitation..."

He shook his head slowly.

"...was the difference."

Silence fell again.

This time—

Heavier.

Freddy stood there, unmoving.

His mind replayed everything.

The past.

The encounter.

The fear.

The pride.

The distance he had kept.

And then—

Harry.

Laughing.

Shameless.

Unbothered.

Walking straight toward the same person he had feared.

Freddy’s fists slowly loosened.

Not because the anger faded—

But because something else had taken its place.

A realization.

Uncomfortable.

Sharp.

Unavoidable.

Lavahound Elder let out another quiet sigh.

"Talent... can be cultivated."

"Strength... can be gained."

"But mindset..."

He shook his head.

"...that is what decides everything."