In Another World, All Milfs Will Be Mine-Chapter 132: [ - - ] - Hero or Saviour? (Part -1)

Chapter 132: [Chapter - 132] - Hero or Saviour? (Part -1)

Leo stood atop the southern battlements of Auravale, the wind whipping his coat around him like a cloak of shadows. The air smelled of sulfur, sweat, and the coppery tang of spilled blood.

Below him, the world was ending.

The South Gate, a massive structure of iron-reinforced oak that had stood for a century, was groaning under the assault. It was under siege not by an army of men, but by a tide of nightmares.

Thirty brave souls—City Watch guards who hadn’t fled with Caelum—were holding the line. They were firing arrows into the mass of writhing bodies below, their faces masks of grim determination. Others were pouring cauldrons of boiling oil down the murder holes, eliciting shrieks of agony from the monsters climbing the walls.

"Reload!" a sergeant screamed, his voice hoarse. "Aim for the big ones! Don’t let the Ogre reach the gate!"

BOOM.

A cannon fired from the tower to Leo’s left. The shot plowed into a cluster of Grave Stalkers, turning five of them into a fine red mist. But for every monster that died, three more scrambled over the corpse.

"They’re climbing!" a young soldier screamed, pointing a shaking finger.

A Grave Stalker, its limbs unnaturally long and sticky with black ichor, scrambled up the rough stone wall like a spider. A guard swung a halberd, severing its arm, but the creature bit his ankle, dragging him over the edge. His scream was cut short by the roar of the horde below.

"Oil! Pour the oil!" the Watch Commander bellowed, his voice hoarse.

Leo watched it all with a calm, analytical gaze.

"They’re holding," he murmured. "Barely."

A displacement of air to his right announced an arrival.

Ryana appeared, stepping out of the shadows. She was dressed in her full combat gear—tight black leather, a rapier at her hip, and a heavy veil covering her face.

A second later, Belladonna arrived on his left. She wore a similar veil, but her outfit was more regal—a combat dress of dark silk armored with silver plating.

"They won’t hold much longer," Belladonna said, her voice low. "The horde is growing. Bane is struggling."

"Bane who?" Ryana asked sharply, looking at the Bandit Queen.

"My lieutenant," Belladonna explained smoothly, not looking at Ryana. "He is... directing the flow. But he is not a mage. He is using an artifact."

She pointed to the distance. Through the smoke and chaos, a faint purple light pulsed in the treeline.

"The Orb of the Dead," Belladonna said. "A Necromancer’s tool. Bane is using it to herd the undead, to keep them focused on the gate instead of scattering into the forest. But the Orb consumes mana at a terrifying rate. He is burning his own life force to keep them leashed."

She turned to Leo, a hint of concern in her blue eyes.

"Should I call it off?" she asked. "I can send the signal. Bane can break the connection. The monsters will disperse, return to the forest. We can end this now."

Leo didn’t look at her. He kept his eyes on the struggling guards below. He watched a young soldier take a goblin arrow to the shoulder and fall, screaming.

"Not yet," Leo said.

Ryana frowned. "Not yet? Leo, look at them. They are dying. If the gate breaks, the monsters will flood the lower district. Hundreds will die."

"I know," Leo said.

"Then why wait?" Ryana demanded. "You have the power to stop this. You have an army waiting in the woods. Call them in! End the siege!"

Leo turned to look at her. His face was hard, unreadable.

"If I call them in now," Leo said, "The Blackfangs are just bandits fighting monsters. They are criminals doing a good deed. The people will be grateful, sure. But they won’t forgive."

He gestured to the city behind them. The terrified families huddling in their homes. The merchants boarding up their shops.

"If we want the Blackfang Bandits to be legitimized... if we want them to walk these streets not as outlaws, but as protectors... they can’t just be helpful. They have to be essential."

"They have to be the only thing standing between Auravale and extinction."

Ryana stared at him. She saw the calculation in his eyes. The cold, ruthless logic of a warlord.

"You’re using them," Ryana whispered. "You’re using the fear of the people as currency."

"Fear is the strongest currency there is," Leo corrected. "Stronger than gold. Stronger than love."

He looked back at the battle.

"Who do people worship more, Ryana? A hero who stops a threat before it happens? Or a Savior who pulls them out of the fire just as their skin starts to burn?"

Ryana fell silent. She knew the answer.

"They need to feel it," Leo said, his voice dropping to a dark whisper. "They need to feel the cold breath of death on their necks. They need to see their walls crumble. They need to believe, truly believe, that this is the end."

He clenched his fist on the stone railing.

"And then... when all hope is lost... we give it back to them."

Belladonna shivered. The darkness of his plan, the sheer manipulative brilliance of it, aroused her. She pressed her arm against his.

"You are a devil," she purred.

"I’m a King," Leo said. "And Kings make hard choices."

He turned to Belladonna.

"Tell Bane to thin the herd," Leo commanded. "Have him break the connection on the low-level trash. Let them loose. Focus the Orb on the Elites. Keep the big ones back for now."

"And the gate?" Belladonna asked.

"Let it break," Leo said.

Ryana gasped. "You can’t be serious."

"Let. It. Break." Leo’s voice was absolute. "Send the signal. Unleash the first wave into the city. Send everyone Level 15 and below through the breach."

Belladonna nodded. She reached into her bodice and pulled out a small, jagged communication stone. She whispered into it.

"Break the seal. Let them in."

A moment later, the pulse of purple light in the forest flared bright, then dimmed.

The rhythm of the horde changed. The discipline vanished. The monsters roared, a chaotic, frenzied sound.

The Dire-Boars, freed from the magical leash, charged with renewed, mindless fury.

CRASH.

They slammed into the main gate. The wood groaned. Iron bands snapped.

CRASH.

The hinges screamed.

"HOLD!" The Captain of the Watch screamed from the wall. "BRACE!"

It was too late.

BOOM.

The South Gate exploded inward. Splinters of oak the size of spears flew through the air.

The barrier was gone.

A river of monsters—Goblins, Rot-Wolves, Grave Stalkers—poured into the city streets like black water.

"Retreat!" the soldiers screamed, abandoning the walls. "Fall back to the second line!"

They ran. The citizens who hadn’t evacuated screamed as the monsters flooded the market square.

An old man, too slow to run, tried to shield his granddaughter in an alleyway. A pack of Rot-Wolves lunged, its claws extending.

"Now," Leo said and dropped.

He activated [Wind-Chaser Boots: Active Skill - Wind Step].

He fell three stories, landing in the center of the street with a shockwave that cracked the cobblestones. He didn’t bend his knees. He absorbed the impact with pure stats.

"Hey, ugly," Leo said.

It landed between the old man and the wolves.

Leo straightened up, his Frost-Edge Longsword in one hand, a Serpent Dagger in the other. His black coat billowed in the wind.

He looked back at the old man. He winked.

"Don’t worry, grandpa," Leo said, his voice projecting over the screams. "I hate dogs too."

He turned to the wolves.

"Showtime."

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