Leon was slightly surprised by how Archon Vyrra had suddenly called him out without warning to initiate this ceremonial counting.

Starting with me? Interesting choice.

He stood gracefully from his frozen seat and, with just a focused thought, emptied the monster cores he'd harvested directly from his inventory storage into physical space.

SHIMMER! APPEAR! CASCADE!

Hundreds upon hundreds of cores in different vivid colors and varying sizes materialized instantly, floating suspended in the air through his precise mana control—creating a mesmerizing display like a constellation of captured stars.

GLOW! FLOAT! SHIMMER!

He gently allowed them to descend, forming an enormous pile on the top giant stair where he'd been sitting—the sheer quantity was visually overwhelming.

CLATTER! PILE! STACK!

Leon already knew the exact number from his systematic counting during harvest.

He announced clearly to the assembled crowd, just as Archon Vyrra had instructed:

"In total, I personally eliminated 1,124 monsters. Including Ira's contribution—she killed 131 monsters independently—our unit's combined total comes to 1,255."

As his final words left his mouth and echoed across the arena, the entire atmosphere became utterly silent except for shocked gasps erupting periodically from various sections of the crowd.

Even the air felt still for a moment—like the city itself was holding its breath

GASP! "Impossible!" GASP! "Over a thousand?!"

During any battle, it was always life-or-death intensity—warriors were too focused on survival to accurately track anyone else's individual performance. Some had heard rumors about how powerful this outsider was, but this?

He's literally shattered the record for any counting ceremony in our entire documented history.

The previous highest kill count ever officially recorded was 979—achieved by a warrior whose identity had been lost to time, becoming almost mythological.

We don't even know which legendary fighter created that benchmark anymore.

It had stood as their unbreakable record for generations. Archon Vyrra herself had declared that number as the goal for all warriors to aspire toward, giving everyone a seemingly absurd target to chase.

And he just exceeded it by over a hundred kills. Effortlessly.

After Leon's stunning revelation, one after another, the other unit leaders began announcing their numbers—primarily reporting their personal leader's highest individual kill count, since the ceremony's exemption depended on a single warrior's achievement within each unit.

"Southwest unit! Leader Kelthara—431 kills!"

"Eastern defensive line! Leader Morvan—512 kills!"

"Northern perimeter! Leader—"

The announcements continued systematically.

The highest count besides Leon was an impressive 676, achieved by Korvek—Ira's father and the clan's Vice Chief.

MURMUR! WHISPER! DISCUSS!

The perception of this outsider in many people's minds had fundamentally transformed in that moment. They collectively realized with absolute clarity that he was probably the second strongest individual in their entire civilization, surpassed only by their legendary Archon herself—and potentially even stronger than Korvek, the Vice Chief.

He's not just strong. He's exceptional. Generational.

Most Pyrrhans accepted this new hierarchy immediately and without resentment, solely because of his undeniable demonstrated strength.

Strength is what matters. He's proven himself beyond question.

Rumors had circulated that he was powerful, yes. But this concrete evidence was something else entirely—impossible to dismiss or downplay.

After all unit announcements concluded, Archon Vyrra made the formal declaration:

"Leon is declared the winner of this ceremonial counting! As per our ancient tradition maintained through every such ceremony, his unit's resource tax obligation is completely waived today!"

Her voice carried across the arena with supernatural amplification.

Approximately ninety percent of the assembled warriors erupted in genuine cheers for the announcement, celebrating the record-breaking achievement.

"LEON! LEON! LEON!"

CHEER! ROAR! APPLAUD!

The remaining ten percent—those who still harbored resentment from the arena humiliation or simply disliked outsiders—remained pointedly silent, but didn't openly object.

After the official ceremony concluded, significant activity immediately began throughout the arena and the surrounding city.

Lots of people started moving with a clear purpose—monster corpses were being systematically transported for final processing, materials were being distributed to appropriate craftsmen and storage facilities.

MOVE! HAUL! ORGANIZE!

Along with all this purposeful activity, the soft rhythmic humming of ceremonial drums began playing in the background, creating an ambient soundtrack.

HUMMM... BOOM... HUMMM... BOOM...

Everything felt synchronized, as if the entire city was moving and breathing to a shared rhythm.

This is more than logistics. It's almost ritualistic.

Everyone appeared genuinely happy—the overall mood had shifted dramatically to something festive and celebratory rather than the grim focus of warfare.

Elaborate preparations were clearly being made for something significant.

The whole city is participating in whatever this celebration is.

Leon, however, had spotted someone departing the arena in considerable hurry during the announcement commotion—and he'd recognized that person immediately.

The hammer warrior. And she's with the woman I fought. They're leaving together, quickly.

He decided to follow them discreetly.

Something's wrong. Their body language screams urgency.

Leon was just about to depart when Ira's concerned voice stopped him:

"Where are you going, Leon? The victory celebration hasn't happened yet. It'll start in approximately an hour."

Her voice became slightly more meek and vulnerable at the end as she added:

"I... I wanted you to be with me during the festival celebration. I'd like to celebrate this victory together."

With me specifically. She's asking me to be with her during the celebration.

Leon replied with a small, genuine smile spreading across his face. The fact that she clearly wanted to spend the celebration with him was honestly quite endearing.

That's so cute of her.

"Don't worry at all. I'll definitely be back within just a few minutes. I promise."

Ira wanted desperately to say she'd accompany him—her mouth even opened to volunteer—but that seemed far too clingy and presumptuous given the circumstances.

I have no legitimate reason to follow him right now. It was already embarrassing enough that I basically just invited him to be my festival partner! What has gotten into me!

So she reluctantly let him go with a small nod and a firm reminder:

"You absolutely should not be late. Promise me."

Leon promised sincerely, then departed.

He flew rapidly through the red sky using his mana and various elemental powers for propulsion and control—but deliberately not activating his Holy transformation form yet.

As he left the arena's immediate vicinity and entered the city proper, tracking his targets became more difficult due to their speed.

They're moving fast. Really fast.

The wind screamed past his ears as he weaved through rising thermals. The scent of scorched stone and celebration fires drifted below.

Leon had to tap into his Holy power for enhanced perception—because the hammer woman was traveling at velocities where she became barely visible even to his enhanced senses.

There. Got them.

There they were—darting into a shadowed corridor, far from the main thoroughfare. Something was definitely wrong.

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