Leonel's gaze flashed, sliding into a boxing stance with incomparable ease. He became as light as a feather on his toes, his breathing syncing with his actions.
His bronzed hair fluttered with his movement, rebounding into the air as he hopped to and froe. The instant it fell back down to his back, he shot forward, his speed blazing.
Despite the fact that he was pincered by two, Leonel protected the side of his face with his right and sent a straight left forward.
A whipping kick shot for Leonel's right hip even as the young man on the left seemed content with simply blocking his straight. From the perspective of the lackies, this would be over quickly. Just one of them was more than enough to deal with a freshman. The only reason they had even chosen to send two was due to the accumulating crowd.
Leonel had shown that he wasn't intelligent enough to not speak what shouldn't be spoken. So, when dealing with such people who didn't understand fear, the best course of action was teaching them exactly that.
BANG!
The kick was fast and sturdy. Without wasted movements, it perfectly made use of the young man's torque. Even his planted leg tore a rotating hole into the ground, a sharp wind following the trail of his assault.
However… When his leg actually came into contact with Leonel's right arm, it felt as though he had just kicked at a steel wall.
Leonel winced slightly, feeling his fractured ribs rattling upon impact. But, his straight left never stopped.
With perfect form, his fist blew past the guard of the young man's forearms, connecting with his nose with a speed too fast to react to.
Leonel could feel a satisfying crunch beneath his knuckles, a bloody spray launching into the air. What was a face of soft and fragile skin and bone worth in the face of Leonel's fist which might as well have been a steel brick?
The instant Leonel connected, he turned his attention toward the kicker, his hips shifting. His speed was so fast that he had already closed the distance between them before his leg even lowered.
Unbalanced and unable to protect himself, the young man could only watch as Leonel retracted his left hand and landed a right hook right into his rib cage.
It felt as though all the air within his body was expelled at once. An audible snapping noise sounded, followed by a muffled cry.
With muted thuds, two seniors fell at once. One clutching their chest and the other their face.
As though completely unsatisfied, Leonel had already shot by them, not minding their reaction in the slightest. While they looked down on him, in his mind, one punch was already more than they deserved in the first place.
Leonel closed the distance between him and Wielor. Though shocked, the latter reacted quickly, his expression turning solemn.
Leonel shot a fist forward, only for it to be met by Wielor's. Having learned his lesson, Wielor coated his own in as much Force as he could muster, bearing down on Leonel with absolute strength and power.
Leonel reacted calmly. His mind drifted to the times he had utilized the incomplete Four Seasons Realm for his fists. He imagined the way the Force had flowed around him, the way it melded with his attacks with perfection, without him even thinking about it.
His Force matched the flow in his mind, his simulations so perfect that one would almost think that he had begun to use Universal Force if it wasn't for the fact it was very clearly just of the Third Dimension.
Both Leonel and Wielor took a single step back. But, whereas the latter was stunned, Leonel had already shot forward, closing the distance once more.
In the blink of an eye, the two exchanged a flurry of blows, Wielor using whatever means he had while Leonel used nothing but his fists.
Leonel's movements were sharp and focused. If he only had to throw a single punch to neutralize a combination, he would do so. It almost felt that everyone was watching a combat puppet battle, his style was that immaculate.
However, while Leonel was growing more and more focused, Wielor felt as though his arms and legs might just shatter at any moment. Fighting Leonel may have looked like fighting a combat puppet to the people outside, but to him, it felt exactly like that. It was as though Leonel's limbs were made and formed of the universe's most precious materials.
Wielor roared. The longer this fight went on, the more people who would accumulate and the more humiliated he would be.
The truth was that hardly anyone knew his face. He was nothing more than a glorified janitor of Hero Peak. Aphestus wasn't exaggerating when he said that Aina's standing was now below even the floor sweepers.
However, if this blew up too much, the more resourceful youths would definitely find a way to connect this back to Hero Peak.
Spikes began to grow off Wielor's arms, enlarging to the point they arched over his fists and protected his knuckles.
A strong corrosive energy hung in the air, bearing down on Leonel.
To Wielor, it didn't matter how strong Leonel's defenses were. Before his corrosive Force, it was all meaningless.
However, what Wielor didn't expect was that Leonel hadn't gone all out either.
The instant it seemed as though Wielor didn't want to be humiliated any longer, illusory golden wings seemed to appear to Leonel's back for just a split moment. It was so brief that the vast majority of the crowd didn't even notice.
With a flick of his palm, a spear appeared.
It was bland, even having a wooden pole. If it wasn't for the feathers strapped to its polearm, it wouldn't have any character whatsoever.
This was none other than the primitive woman's spear.
Wielor went stiff as he suddenly felt something sharp pierce through his leg.
After a moment of lag, he roared out in pain, stumbling and falling to his knees.
Leonel's piercing motion was too fast, too swift. Before anyone could react, all four of Wielor's limbs were rendered useless.
He stood amidst three collapsed seniors, his visage expressionless.