The World Is Mine For The Taking-Chapter 669 - 103 - The War For The Holy City (4)

Out of nowhere, a surge of soldiers came crashing through, their heavy boots pounding against the ground like thunder as they raised their rifles in unison, barrels glinting with deadly intent, all aimed directly at us.

Sister Lily didn't hesitate. In one fluid motion, she whipped out her dagger and hurled it with brutal accuracy. The blade flew like a streak of silver lightning and embedded itself in the throat of one of the men. His body jolted as blood sprayed from the wound, and he dropped like a lifeless sack of flesh.

I quickly gathered my mana, heat searing in my chest before bursting outward through my fingertips. Flames erupted violently and engulfed several soldiers in searing fire. Screams tore from their throats as their bodies flailed, caught in the blaze.

"Go!!" Sister Lily yelled with fierce urgency.

The children bolted, feet slapping against the ground, their terrified cries echoing through the chaos. We sprinted after them, our only goal now was to protect them. As the soldiers opened fire, bullets whistling through the air like death's breath, I summoned walls of wind to deflect the shots. The gusts howled with fury, spinning and crashing against the projectiles, slowing them just enough to save our lives.

Sister Alice, without a weapon, took on the soldiers hand-to-hand. She did everything she could to buy the children time.

But it was hopeless.

There were too many.

Their numbers kept growing, an endless tide of guns and steel. My fire flared again and again, colliding with the metal storm, while wind burst from my palms in violent gusts. I tried—desperately—to push the bullets away, to hold them back, but in the end, my spells weren't solid shields. They were elements—intangible, flowing, and fragile against real steel. The bullets tore through like ghosts in a storm.

And then I saw it.

A single bullet—faster than the others—cutting through the air straight toward the children, aimed to take one of them from behind.

Without thinking, I threw myself in its path.

A deafening crack rang out as the bullet hit me, slamming into the side of my stomach with a vicious, burning force.

"Urk…!"

The sound of flesh tearing echoed in my ears. My teeth clenched so hard I thought they might shatter. The bullet tore through muscle, punching clean through my side, hot blood pouring out as my body jerked from the impact.

But I stopped it.

I stopped the bullet from reaching them. It clattered to the ground behind me, useless now.

And then… I collapsed.

My body hit the ground hard, vision blurring, breath shallow.

"Alice…!" Sister Lily's voice broke, panicked. She made a move toward me, but I raised my hand weakly, signaling her to focus on the kids. Protect them.

She froze for a heartbeat, then met my eyes.

Tears shimmered there, threatening to fall, but she turned away, swallowing her emotions. She began ushering the children forward again, urgency driving her voice now laced with dread.

But it wasn't enough.

More soldiers appeared, stepping into their path like shadows of doom.

They raised their rifles, cold metal pointed at the trembling children, and ordered them to their knees.

And then… their eyes turned to Sister Lily.

Those eyes—filled with something vile. Grins crept onto their faces, crooked and evil, thick with the kind of desire that made my skin crawl.

"J-Just… please don't hurt the children…" Sister Lily pleaded, her voice cracking, shoulders slumped in surrender.

My chest tightened. I shut my eyes.

Men were closing in on her.

I couldn't move.

I couldn't save her.

I was pinned by pain, helpless, broken. I could do nothing but scream silently inside.

At that moment, all I wanted was for Leon to be here. Just once—just today. If he had stayed, maybe… maybe I would've told him how I felt. Maybe none of this would've happened.

And then—like someone had answered my prayer—chaos exploded around me again.

The soldiers holding me down were suddenly ripped apart.

Their bodies split open like paper dolls—limbs flung aside as blood sprayed the walls and floor. The sound of flesh slicing echoed like a sick melody in the air.

I looked up, barely able to lift my head.

And there he was.

Leon.

Standing tall, his figure drenched in blood, his eyes cold and focused.

"What the fuck are you doing right now?" he growled, voice low and dangerous, as he glared at the men holding Sister Lily down.

The soldiers flinched and turned, raising their rifles to shoot him—but they were too slow.

Leon moved like a demon unleashed.

He didn't dodge the bullets—he cut them down.

With a blur of his blade, he slashed through the hail of lead as if it were nothing but falling leaves. Sparks danced in the air, and metal clinked to the ground in pieces.

Then, he was on them.

They screamed.

They begged.

It didn't matter.

Leon showed no mercy.

One by one, he cut them down, slicing through armor and bone like they were made of air. Blood painted the earth. By the time it was over, Leon stood in a sea of corpses, his body soaked in red, chest heaving.

"Leon…" I whispered through cracked lips, tears burning in my eyes.

"Big bro Leon!" the kids cried out, rushing toward him. They wrapped their small arms around him, their sobs muffled against his bloodied clothes.

"Wait. We're not safe yet," Leon told them, his voice calm, but firm. "You have to head for the Holy City. Take shelter there. Now."

"What about you, Leon?" Sister Lily asked, her voice quivering. "You're not staying, are you…?"

Leon didn't respond right away. He stared ahead—toward the shadows approaching, toward more enemies lining up with rifles in hand.

"Leon can take care of himself, Sister," I said softly. I turned my head, struggling to keep my eyes open. "Right?" I asked him, almost pleading.

If he didn't answer, I wouldn't be able to let go.

But he did.

"I can," he replied with certainty.

That was enough.

I smiled for him—one final smile—before we turned away… and left him behind.

***

Leon's POV

I made my decision right then and there.

No more holding back.

As soon as Alice and the others had finally escaped—safe, far from the reach of those bastards—I let out a breath I hadn't realized I'd been holding, and reached for the one thing that signaled I was done playing games.

My faceless mask.

The faceless mask was similar to Ayuru—it could be summoned from thin air—but technically, it was always attached to every set of clothes I wore. That's why I could put it on whenever I needed to. It was part of me. Part of what I became when I was serious.

And today, I was serious.

I was going to burn these fuckers into ash for daring to harm the people I cared about. The ones who made me who I am. The people I grew up with, laughed with, protected, and loved.

They weren't going to get away with what they did. Not a single one.

For the first time in ages, I reached deep into the pit of my soul… and invoked it.

Magic Creation.

A skill so devastating I'd almost forgotten the weight it carried. But tonight, I remembered.

I was going to create something that matched exactly what I felt inside.

And that something… was Nuclear Magic.

To create it, you didn't need an incantation, or materials, or complicated rituals.

No.

All you needed was one thing.

Unfiltered rage.

Not just anger—but fire—a smoldering, relentless inferno of wrath that could reduce cities to glass.

And right now?

I was a fucking volcano ready to erupt.

My eyes narrowed as I watched the enemy forces pour into view. It was an unending stream of soldiers, all too confident in their numbers.

I rose into the air, my body breaking free of gravity's chains like I was ascending to judge the world below. The wind howled around me, thick with heat and death.

From above, I stretched out both hands, summoning every ounce of raw fury I had into them.

And between my palms, flames sparked to life.

Not ordinary fire.

This was dense. Heavy. Pulsating with destructive power. The light from it didn't just illuminate—it pierced, slicing through the shadows with searing intensity. The mass grew—slowly at first—until it became a blazing orb of sheer, concentrated annihilation.

A miniature sun born from hate.

The enemy soldiers below finally noticed the shift. I could see their eyes widening, their shouts rising in panic. They scrambled, rifles raised, fingers squeezing triggers in desperation.

Bullets screamed through the air, but I didn't even flinch.

Guardian.

I activated it with a flick of thought. The magic barrier shimmered into existence around me, deflecting every projectile with a low, vibrating hum. Sparks ricocheted off like raindrops on steel.

I didn't even look at them.

All I focused on… was the growing sphere of fire. Feeding it. Nurturing it. Letting it swell until the heat alone warped the air around it.

And then—

In a voice that echoed with the weight of judgment, I spoke loud enough for every single soldier to hear.

"Take a look at hell."

And I hurled it.

The moment it left my hands, the sphere plummeted downward, spinning and whistling like a fallen star. The earth itself seemed to scream in anticipation.

And then it struck.

The explosion wasn't just loud—it consumed sound. A white-hot wave of destruction roared outward in every direction.

Before the shockwave could reach the Holy City, I snapped my fingers and cast a massive Guardian.

Inside, peace.

Outside, Armageddon.

I floated there, unmoved, unfazed, as soldiers burned alive below me—screaming, writhing, disintegrating under the merciless touch of Nuclear Magic.

Their bodies melted, armor twisted, bones turned to ash.

And me?

I watched them.

Emotionless.

Cold.

Empty.

Not a flicker of sympathy in my eyes.

Not a shred of mercy.

Just silence.