In Another World, All Milfs Will Be Mine-Chapter 153: [ - - ] - You hurt my heart!

"I heard there was a party," Leo said, his voice smooth, carrying effortlessly through the hall, "Celebrating my death, apparently."

He walked over to a nearby serving cart. A waiter was frozen there, holding a tray with a bottle of wine. Leo plucked the bottle from the tray, inspecting the label casually.

"I was a little hurt I didn’t get an invite," Leo drawled, popping the cork with his thumb.

He took a swig straight from the bottle, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. His glowing purple eyes locked onto Volkov’s.

"So I decided to crash it," Leo said, his grin widening, revealing teeth that looked just a little too sharp. "Don’t stop laughing on my account, gentlemen... I am not here to kill the celebration."

CRASH!

Baron Volkov scrambled backward so fast that his massive, ornate chair couldn’t handle the shift in weight. The chair tipped over, sending the fat lord sprawling onto the floor, tangled in his expensive robes.

"Guards! Guards!" Volkov shrieked, like a possessed maniac. He kicked his legs in the air, trying to stand up, "Kill them! Don’t just stand there, you useless sacks of shit! Kill them all!"

The half-naked courtesans who had been massaging him moments ago didn’t wait for instructions. They shrieked and bolted, diving under the heavy table, or behind the curtains, joining the corrupt ministers who were already cowering there, praying to the gods for one last chance.

Meanwhile Leo just stood there, holding the bottle of wine. He took a leisurely swig, watching the fat baron shriek out, looking utterly unimpressed.

"Is that how you greet a guest, Baron?" Leo asked, his voice cutting through the panic, "I even brought my own date. Three of them, actually."

He gestured loosely to the women flanking him.

Belladonna, who was running her thumb along the serrated edge of her massive blade.

Seraphine, who was staring at the cowering nobles with a look of absolute disgust.

And Ryana, who was watching the room with wide, calculating eyes.

Leo took a step forward. The broken glass crunched under his boots.

The nobles huddled closer to the floor. Some tried to cover their faces with their sleeves, as if hiding their eyes would make the monster go away.

"I see you, Treasurer Harlon," Leo called out, his purple eyes glowing faintly, "And you, Minister Nolan. I see you trying to crawl under the tablecloth."

The men froze.

"I offered you all an easy way out," Leo sighed, shaking his head, "I gave you a chance to serve the city properly. But instead..."

He gestured to the debauchery around them. To the spilled food, the half-naked whores, the overflowing wine.

"You chose to leech onto a pig," Leo finished. "Disappointing."

"Help me up!" Volkov roared, slapping the hand of a servant who tried to assist him, "Get off me!"

Two trembling soldiers finally rushed forward, hauling the Baron to his feet. He was breathing heavily, his face a mottled map of red and purple splotches. The alcohol was still coursing through his veins, warring with the adrenaline.

As he stood, realizing that Leo hadn’t instantly vaporized him, the fear began to recede, replaced by the arrogant, drunken rage that had fueled him for years.

"You..." Volkov spat, wiping a line of drool from his chin. He pointed a shaking finger at Leo, "You arrogant little shit! You think you can just walk into my house? Into the house of a Baron in the service of the King?"

"You must be courting death."

Leo ignored him. He began to walk.

He walked down the length of the long banquet table. He didn’t rush. He moved with the fluid, predatory grace of a jungle cat stalking a wounded buffalo.

"I was hurt, Volkov," Leo said conversationally, trailing his free hand along the edge of the table, knocking over a crystal goblet. "I really was."

"We had such a nice chat yesterday. I thought we understood each other. And then? You didn’t even invite me to the victory party."

"Invite you?" Volkov laughed, a hysterical, barking sound, "I sent men to peel the skin off your face! I sent assassins to mount your head on my wall!"

"I know! I know!" Leo tutted, "And it was very rude."

"Kill him!" Volkov screamed, his eyes bulging. He looked at the two dozen soldiers lining the walls. "What are you waiting for? He is one man! One man and three whores! Cut them down!"

The soldiers gripped their spears. They looked at their Baron. They looked at the coin pouches on their belts.

Then they looked at Leo.

But none of them dare move.

"Move!" Volkov shrieked, "Captain Jorah! Captain Kael! Do something!"

Captain Jorah, a scarred veteran who had killed dozens of men on Baron’s order, tried to step forward. He gripped his sword hilt.

Leo didn’t even look at him. He just kept walking.

Belladonna shifted slightly. She didn’t attack. She just flared her own aura, a bloodlust refined by years of slaughter in the Endless Forest. It crashed against the Captain’s resolve like a tidal wave.

Jorah froze. His hand shook. He couldn’t draw his blade. It felt heavy, like it was made of lead.

"They can’t hear you, Volkov," Leo said softly.

The soldiers parted. As Leo walked down the side of the table, the armed guards scrambled backward, pressing themselves against the tapestries to get away from him. They lowered their eyes, submitting like beaten dogs.

Volkov watched in horror as his paid protection melted away like snow in a furnace.

"Cowards!" Volkov screamed. "I pay you! I own you!"

Leo reached the end of the table.

He stopped right in front of the Baron.

Volkov was a big man, tall and wide, but Leo seemed to tower over him. The pressure coming off Leo was suffocating.

"You don’t own anything," Leo whispered.

Volkov tried to step back, but his chair was behind him. He stumbled, collapsing back into the seat with a heavy thud.

Leo raised his leg.

SLAM!

He planted his heavy combat boot right between Volkov’s legs, resting it on his crotch and the edge of the chair, effectively trapping the Baron in place. He leaned in, resting his elbow on his knee, bringing his face inches from the sweating, terrified Baron.

"You know," Leo said, his voice dripping with sarcastic warmth, "I actually liked you, Baron. You were simple. Predictable. Greedy."

He reached out and patted Volkov’s wet, greasy cheek. Volkov flinched violently, squeezing his eyes shut.

"I wanted to work with you," Leo lied smoothly, "I thought, ’Here is a man who knows what he wants.’ But then... you gave in to your woman’s need."

Leo shook his head, looking genuinely disappointed.

"Trying to kill me? Making enemies with the guy who just took over the town and threw away the Lord all on his own? That’s not very smart, Volkov."

Volkov’s eyes snapped open. He tried to muster some bravado, "The Crown... you can’t..."

"To be honest," Leo interrupted, "Since you are clearly not that smart, I like you even more. It means I don’t have to use my brain to deal with you."

Leo’s eyes glowed brighter.

"But being influenced by a bitter old woman? Letting her talk you into suicide? That is just sad."

But while Leo was busy expressing his admiration for the Baron, something moved behind him.

One of the captains, a man desperate to prove his loyalty, or perhaps just stupid enough to think he saw an opening lunged at Leo. He was fast. He raised a broadsword, aiming for the back of Leo’s neck.

"Die, you bastard!" the captain roared.

Ryana gasped. "Leo!"

But Leo didn’t turn. He didn’t flinch. He didn’t even blink.

Whish! THUNK!

A silver blur tore through the air. A short sword flew with terrifying velocity.

It slammed into the captain’s chest, punching through his plate armor like it was wet paper. The force of the impact lifted the man off his feet. He flew backward, and pinned to the wall with a wet crunch.

Blood sprayed in a wide arc.

A heavy splash of hot, crimson blood flew across the table and slapped directly onto Baron Volkov’s face.

The captain gurgled once, his legs twitched, and then within ten breaths, he went still.

Belladonna stood there, her arm still extended from the throw, a bored expression on her face. She reached back and pulled another massive blade from her back.

Leo didn’t even look back at the dead man. He just stared at Volkov, who was now covered in fresh blood, trembling so violently that his chins were vibrating.

The Baron stared at the corpse pinned to his wall. Then he looked at Leo.

The realization finally hit him. The alcohol evaporated instantly, leaving behind only the cold, hard reality of death.

"Like I was saying..." Leo started at the Baron, "You hurt my heart!"

"P-Please..." Volkov whimpered. Tears began to mix with the blood on his face. "I... I have gold. I have the keys to the... the..."

PHFFRRR!

Leo wrinkled his nose.

He leaned back slightly, sniffing the air. The heavy scent of roasted pork and wine was suddenly overpowered by something sharp, acrid, and disgusting.

He jumped back, removing his boot from the chair.

"Ughhh!" Leo groaned, waving his hand in front of his nose.

"Who the fuck shit himself?" 𝑓𝑟𝑒𝘦𝓌𝑒𝑏𝑛𝑜𝘷𝑒𝘭.𝒸𝘰𝑚

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