The Martial Unity

Leonel's eyes snapped open. He didn't know how long he had slept for, it was impossible to tell. There were no windows in this temple. He had only roughly guessed that he had been here for three days.

Using his silver rod to stand, he stood to loosen his stiffening limbs.

Leonel's jaw set. His mind had regained its clarity. He hadn't even noticed that his senses had severely dulled the more tired he became. In fact, he felt that he was even sharper than when he first entered this Sub-Dimensional Zone now.

Without a word, he began to get ready.

He took his six rifles, strapping through across his left shoulder than the remaining three across his right.

Two days ago, he had almost lost his life because he trusted that these muskets were always loaded. He ended up aiming and firing one without a bullet, a mistake he could thank for the deep gash in his thigh.

Since then, he learned to tell whether the rifle was loaded or not first. His method seemed simple, but maybe he was the only one on Earth who could do it. There was a very slight weight difference, maybe fractions of a gram, between a loaded and unloaded gun. If a gun was too light, he didn't keep it.

Once the six muskets laid organized on his back, he accounted for the eight hand axes around his waist and finally clutched his silver rod.

With a deep breath, he slowly made his way back toward the hidden path. It seemed that during his sleep, others entered this floor once more through the main stairway. Leonel could only clear them out first in order to avoid any untoward variables.

Though his heart was still heavy, he managed to control his trembling hands this time. Without having to account for his wavering aim, his efficiency reached a new level, his throwing ability especially.

Half a day later, Leonel felt that he had emptied the floor once more. With how many Spaniards he had taken it, it was definitely only a matter of time before their leaders realized that something was wrong.

As expected, when Leonel went to peek on the weaponry, the 12 number he had counted before had increased to 18.

The weaponry was the largest space Leonel had come across to now. It was a rounded room with a single exit. All around, weapons hung from the walls. But, compared to the Spaniards, they were incredibly crude.

The Spaniards turned their noses up at these weapons. Not even a single one had been touched. But, who could blame them. It was obvious that Spanish weapon technology was more than a single level higher.

They had set up camp in this space for only two reasons. One was to stop the Mayans from regrouping and recouping strength. And second was to set up camp.

It seemed that this Sub-Dimensional Zone had deviated from history. There was much more of a stalemate than there should be. An internal battle was taking place within the temple between the two parties.

What Leonel didn't know was that this was only due to his actions. He hadn't wanted to count the number of Spaniards he had killed, but it was over a hundred. There were only two thousand in total. He had single handedly taken down a good percentage of their army.

As a result, the Mayans had been able to put up some resistance. And, due to losing so many soldiers, the Spaniards had taken a step back, trying to re-evaluate the strength of their enemy.

Leonel took a deep breath. When his eyes opened once more, his eyes had completely stilled, glowing in the dark like a predator stalking his prey.

First, he took apart his silver rod. He didn't split it into all three pieces. Instead, he only took a single third of it. Using the small ledge on either side of the narrow staircase, he balanced both ends across it.

It was nearly a perfect fit, just barely over two feet apart. The remaining part of the rod was just over four feet in length, but it was enough. If Leonel was lucky, he wouldn't have to use it at all.

pour several flasks of alcohol through the small cracks in the false wall,

Smells like some good booze, who's

'Drunkard. What booze?'

'Wait look over there!'

but his armor was definitely shinier and he strapped a pike across his back and a long

a loud boom, kicking up

'Enemy attack! Form up!'

falling stone and the

had seen everything he needed in that split second. And still now, he could see faint pictures of the changing

would be burned away quickly and he

one meter high doorway, he aimed toward the leader and

BANG!

had just been giving out commands froze, his last words being lost

trigger, he retreated, leaping to up to the ledge above him and to

squatted down, balancing on the balls of his feet as he

of bullets sounded and instant

seven… ten… eleven… sixteen…

that barbarian

moment the Leonel locked onto the 17th fired gun, Leonel jumped from his perch, charging through the wall of already waning fire. He would have put his rod back together, but he simply didn't

from his back aiming it

BANG!

musket aside even as a Spaniard fell. Without hesitation he pulled

BANG!

rifle and

the side of the leader he had killed. With inhuman strength, he ripped the rifled from his corpse, his lip twitching when he realized it was

allow himself to be surrounded, so he aimed the gun toward the closest soldier, causing him to retreat with

without bothering to fire, reaching with

cocked back, his hand drawing a silver light

who had retreated had his face destroyed

movements hid the dread that loomed over his heart with

there were only

corpse, holding

retreated to the secret

of them thought of running, but the punishment for retreat was too severe. They could only hold out and hope the noise

breaking through the Shrine Room.

that Leonel had run out of things to throw, they could only steel

at once, but that was when they couldn't see him. This was completely different. Not only could they see

'Calm down…'

realized something important. These Spaniards were just normal humans, they didn't have an 'awakened' ability. This was where Leonel's advantage