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.

to himself. Then, he began to pour several flasks of alcohol through the small cracks in the false

do you smell that? Smells like some good booze,

'Drunkard. What booze?'

'Wait look over there!'

forcing them to fall silent. He wasn't dressed much differently, but his armor was definitely shinier and

a loud boom, kicking up dust

'Enemy attack! Form up!'

followed a flame erupting from the falling stone and the edges it had just

had seen everything he needed in that split

he didn't have long. The alcohol would be burned away quickly and he didn't have any other sources of fuel with him. But

he aimed toward the leader and pulled the

BANG!

just been giving out commands froze, his last words being lost in a spurt

didn't pause. The moment he pulled the trigger, he retreated, leaping to up to the ledge above him and to the silver rod piece

of his

of bullets sounded and instant later,

two… five… seven…

way that barbarian bastard

fired gun, Leonel jumped from his perch, charging through the wall of already waning fire. He would have put

from his back

BANG!

Spaniard fell. Without hesitation he

BANG!

pulled out another rifle and another Spaniard fell. Five steps, five breaths, five rifles,

making it to the side of the leader he had killed. With inhuman strength, he ripped the

he aimed the gun toward the closest soldier, causing him to retreat with fear coloring the eyes

with

his hand drawing a

face destroyed in the blink of an eye, falling

His quick movements hid the dread that

flash, there

up the leader's long sword from his corpse, holding it in one hand and his silver rod in the

retreated to the

the punishment for retreat was too severe. They

through the Shrine Room. Only a few of them were tasked with guarding

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

used to fighting many opponents at once, but that was when they couldn't see him. This was completely different. Not only could they see him, but there

'Calm down…'

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