If there was one thing Leon knew with certainty now, it was that comparing the ravens to chickens would anger them to a great extent. That's exactly why he said it without hesitation.
The insult cut deep.
The moment the words reached their ears, their eyes shimmered with flickering fury. That flicker didn't fade—it blazed. Their blood boiled hot. All they could think about was meeting that cocky boy, ripping him into meat strips, and feasting on his remains. He had insulted not just one raven—but their entire bloodline. That, to them, was blasphemy.
'This boy wants to die… how dare he compare us to those ants!'
'You filthy insect… you've angered the wrong clan!'
Their thoughts weren't in words, but the emotions were identical. A storm of hatred clouded their instincts.
They had high intelligence—greater than most beasts, greater even than many humans. But their biology betrayed them. They could understand language, understand tone, strategy, and insult like a sentient being like a human being. But they couldn't speak because their body structure as beasts doesn't support that.
Their mouths weren't built for it—not yet.
Only through continued mutation and evolution could beasts develop speech… usually when they gained humanoid forms, or their vocal structure modified completely. Until then, they were voiceless—but far from stupid.
The moment they processed the insult, they stopped circling in the sky.
And swooped. Fast. Violently.
Their wings blurred. Air cracked.
Hundreds of them dove at once. A tidal wave of black feathers and sharpened claws came for him.
Most of the charging ravens were Level 4. The Level 5s and 6s hovered above, watching with cruel amusement. They didn't move. Why should they? Their subordinates were more than enough for this low-level pest, weren't they?
They were still confident—even though Leon had killed all the chickens.
To them, chickens were weaklings.
Leon? He was even lower on the food chain.
A mistake they'd soon regret.
Leon, however, felt the exact opposite of fear.
He grinned.
Eyes gleaming.
A twisted, excited smile curved on his lips.
The first row of ravens saw that grin… and their instincts screamed.
Something's wrong!
But it was too late.
The ones at the back were already pushing them forward. When over two hundred birds dive at once, there's no slowing down. No turning back.
Like a storm, they came.
Just before impact, Leon checked their stats.
┏━━━━━━༻❁༺━━━━━━┓
[MUTATED BLACK RAVEN]
─────⋅☾ Beast's Details ☽⋅─────
[LVL 4]
[HP: 1890]
─────⋅☾ Stats ☽⋅─────
[Strength: 43]
[Stamina: 43]
[Agility: 43]
[Defense: 33]
[Intelligence: 26]
┗━━━━━━༻❁༺━━━━━━┛
He almost scoffed.
'No skills? Lower level than me? Weak stats? Ha! These guys are nothing but feathered punching bags.'
His fists clenched with anticipation.
The moment they got close—he erupted.
He punched. Fast. Brutal. Precise.
Every punch landed like a cannonball.
The Mana Shield around him responded to impact like a living armor—any raven that made contact with it bounced off like it hit a spring-loaded wall. The shock reverberated through them, leaving wings twisted and bones shattered.
Within sixty seconds, over a hundred ravens had already been grounded.
Dead.
Slashed. Crushed. Flattened.
To the high-ranking ravens still floating above, watching from the sky, what they saw below was… madness.
Their subordinates were falling like rain.
Like bugs.
Leon moved like a blur—fists a blur, legs slicing the air like blades. He ducked, turned, spun, kicked. One movement flowed into the next, no pause, no hesitation. His body was a weapon. His mind—razor sharp. The longer he fought, the more precise he became.
Like a predator evolving mid-hunt.
He adapted with every second.
Two birds at once? One punch.
Crowd around him? A spinning Mana kick sent them crashing into each other.
Screech!
Above, the ravens cried out in alarm.
Their numbers were crumbling.
Three hundred Level 4 warriors… reduced to fifty in less than five minutes.
The leaders' expressions turned grave. Rage began to override pride.
'He's killing them all… and easily!'
Then… his voice pierced the sky again.
"What!? You afraid I'd kill them all!? Come on! Send more! The chickens put up a better show than you bunch of feathered frauds! PATHETIC! YOU'RE TOO WEAK!!!"
That voice…
That voice was a spike through their pride.
They shook in anger. Some even flapped backward briefly—just to calm themselves.
They were losing control.
But they didn't rush in blindly.
Instead… they paused.
Then one of them sent something strange.
A signal.
┏━━━━━━༻❁༺━━━━━━┓
Raven 14 has sent you a Death Match Invitation
[ACCEPT] [DECLINE]
┗━━━━━━༻❁༺━━━━━━┛
[Note: Accepting the death match means you must face all participating ravens. Win, and you may gain immense rewards. Lose… and you die.]
System Advice: Accepting this challenge gives them higher chances of killing you. Choose wisely.
Leon's smirk faded.
His face grew serious.
The crystal had warned him before—but this time, it wasn't a whisper in his mind.
This time, it sent the warning through the System interface itself.
That had never happened before.
That meant something.
This wasn't just another fight.
He narrowed his eyes.
'Why would the System warn me about this—but not when I fought the chickens?'
'Is it because these guys are stronger…? No. With how intelligent these beasts are I doubt that it's that simple.'
His mind started spinning.
This wasn't just a death match.
There was something else at play here.
Something bigger.
And if he accepted this death match...
He might be walking straight into a trap.
But would that stop him?