Bermuda Chapter 82

The mbers who had finished their al were erasing traces of their stay in the cave, moving about relatively freely as they organized the remaining luggage. However, so, including the 8th Platoon leader, stood at a distance, keeping a wary eye on Leonardo.

This was because, during the al, he had suddenly sprung up and tried to leave the cave—an incident that made all the 8th Platoon mbers rise in alarm, afraid he might escape. As a result, Leonardo couldn’t get far and ended up slumping down onto the low, flat rock where he had sat with Hugo the day before.

Aside from the few watching him, the rest of the mbers who had finished eating gathered the tableware and headed toward the crater lake. Since the water was so clear and pristine, they deed it suitable for rinsing dishes and filling canteens.

As they reached the water’s edge, ripples stirred across the tranquil surface of the lake and began to spread outward.

Leonardo fixed his gaze aninglessly on the ripples, his mind drifting deep into thought as he bit his lip.

‘There’s a mountain of things I have to do... Can I even finish the subjugation and return in ti at this rate? If only I could move around alone... No, even if Agrizendro doesn’t know anything else, there’s no way he’ll let roam free.’

Too distracted to pay attention to his surroundings, Leonardo didn’t notice Flynn slowly approaching. Flynn set down the luggage he’d been carrying a short distance away and spoke carefully to him, who had seed lost in thought for quite so ti.

“Aren’t you hungry?”

Leonardo had barely eaten again, having rushed out of the cave only to be stopped by the others. He furrowed his brows and bit his lip, glancing briefly at Flynn before turning his gaze back toward the lake.

“You really like , don’t you.”

Flynn’s expression twisted into confusion, as if Leonardo had just said sothing utterly absurd.

“What? What are you even talking about all of a sudden?”

Leonardo, who had spoken so abruptly, kept his eyes fixed on the water and responded with a completely emotionless face.

“Because you keep talking to .”

It would’ve been strange if Leonardo got along well with the Council mbers, but Flynn was particularly concerned about how he always tried to isolate himself and wasn’t eating properly.

Of course, Flynn himself wasn’t entirely comfortable around him either. But since the other mbers were openly wary of Leonardo, Flynn felt a responsibility to at least keep an eye on him.

But the way Leonardo phrased that answer—as if Flynn’s concern was a nuisance—irritated him. Flynn narrowed his eyes and snapped,

“Then should I stop caring?”

Leonardo’s mind was a tangled ss, and he’d planned to just ignore it, but Flynn’s blunt tone and unwavering gaze made him turn his head. Those clear, fresh light-green eyes were fixed on him with a hint of disappointnt.

This guy’s thoughts had been written all over his face since the mont they t. That’s what made him so exhausting—from Leonardo’s perspective, it was tireso how transparently he expressed when he was hurt or disappointed.

And yet, the fact that he still hadn’t backed off, that he kept trying to talk to him—maybe that was just his nature.

Leonardo shook his head and patted the spot beside him.

“Sit. Don’t just stand there gawking.”

Flynn’s tense expression softened, and he walked over to sit beside Leonardo, his face lighting up with surprise—as if he’d been waiting to hear those words.

However, as soon as they sat side by side, Flynn found himself unsure of what to say. In the silence that flowed between them, he looked over at Leonardo’s face, which still wore a serious expression as he stared out at the lake. Casually, he asked,

“Is sothing going on? You look really serious.”

“Sothing?”

Leonardo let out a hollow laugh.

“A lot.”

Though it could have co off as arrogant, the way he said it—quiet and solemn—made it clear that he really was troubled by the weight on his shoulders. Flynn, however, instinctively knew that even if he asked, Leonardo wouldn’t elaborate. So despite his curiosity, he held his tongue.

In fact, although Leonardo hadn’t said anything, Flynn had a strong suspicion that he was the one who had helped Brianna Dixie—the forr grandmaster of Delberg in the Frost Territory—escape.

But he wasn’t keeping quiet because he believed Leonardo was involved in the monster smuggling. Rather, he believed Leonardo understood the truth of how Brianna had been exploited by the rchant group, regardless of how he’d co to know it.

So he even speculated that Leonardo might be secretly resolving incidents behind the scenes—cases that never made the public eye. Given how easily he could change or conceal his appearance, it wouldn’t be surprising if there were other operations he’d been involved in, among the many cases the Council had taken on.

Suddenly, Flynn rembered when he’d asked Leonardo—disguised as Tergio—where he was heading after their ti in the Frost Territory. Back then, he’d simply said: “Where I’m needed.”

Recalling that conversation, Flynn glanced sideways, quietly thinking to himself.

‘The Council is the place that needs you most.’

The Council dealt with an overwhelming range of incidents. The world was still full of strange, extraordinary threats—and countless people still needed help.

So might say the world had beco more peaceful since the war ended, but many were still caught in hidden storms beneath that peace.

And the kind of hero who rose in those tis of chaos—was soone the world longed for.

In fact, sitting next to Leonardo now felt almost surreal. Flynn rembered how, back then, Leonardo had seed like an unreachable figure—a true hero. Even though the Armsilver military command was based in the capital, seeing Armsilver mbers there was rare.

Especially Leonardo Blaine—known as one of the strongest among Armsilver—only appeared during large-scale operations. He always wore a helt on those expeditions, so Flynn had never imagined he’d one day sit beside the man behind that mask.

Now, he no longer had the glory of those days due to so unknown incident, but Flynn could feel—just from this brief ti together—that Leonardo wasn’t a bad person. And that made it all the more bitter that he was still seen as a criminal.

So Flynn wished, deep down, that Leonardo could beco part of the Council—and a hero to the world once again.

Just like in the past, when children at the specialized Bermuda orphanage in the Agrizendro Territory were asked who they respected most, and they unhesitatingly answered: Leonardo Blaine—even with Hugo Agrizendro standing right there.

But knowing it was his own selfish hope, Flynn swallowed the words instead of speaking them aloud.

Just then, as Flynn sat beside him steeped in those thoughts, Leonardo stared intently at the lake and suddenly opened his mouth.

“Hey... was that always like that?”

Flynn snapped out of his reverie and followed Leonardo’s gaze to the lake. At the center of the water—once clear and glassy—sothing black and massive had appeared, dyeing the surface.

It was slowly moving toward the mbers by the water’s edge, who were still rinsing their tableware.

Flynn narrowed his eyes, unsure if he was seeing things.

“...What is that?”

Sothing enormous was lurking in the lake. Just as Flynn rose from his seat in alarm at the unnatural movent, the 8th Platoon leader bolted over and shouted,

“Get away from the water!”

At the sa ti, the black shadow burst from beneath the surface. Thick, elongated limbs erupted from its body, snatching up two mbers in an instant.

“Aaaaah!”

“W-What is this?!”

The unidentified monster resembled a multi-limbed mollusk, and its size was so massive that it was hard to believe it had remained hidden underwater until now.

Its mottled skin—dark red and slick—was coated in a viscous fluid. Dozens of sunken sockets embedded with eyeballs were clustered around the central body where the limbs extended, giving it a grotesque and hideous appearance.

One limb, thicker and more muscular than the others, had a scorpion-like tail tipped with a venomous stinger, aid directly at the captured mbers.

One of them quickly drew his sword and stabbed the limb binding him—but instead of piercing, the blade slipped uselessly off the creature’s slick skin.

The 8th Platoon leader was the first to charge, shouting to her team,

“All mbers of the 8th Platoon—attack!”

At her command, the platoon mbers sprang into action, leaping into the air and rushing the monster. It swung its massive limbs to knock them back, but they were quicker—darting in and out of reach.

Sword-wielding mbers dove in first, slashing at the side where their comrades were ensnared. But the slimy limbs deflected the blades with ease, shrugging off the attacks as if in mockery.

Realizing physical strikes weren’t working, the leader scowled and extended her hand, chanting,

“Brute Force.”

A grayish-white magic circle flared to life from her palm. Compressed air, invisible and lethal, blasted into the monster’s body.

It let out a screech and faltered, its movents slowing. The other mbers imdiately wrapped mana around their blades and struck again—this ti cleaving through the flesh and slicing off one of the writhing limbs.

Freed from the binding pressure, one of the captured mbers quickly slipped away. But the severed limb twitched grotesquely—and a new one sprouted rapidly in its place. The 8th Platoon leader shouted,

“It’s regenerating! Take it down before it heals completely!”

“Yes, ma’am!”

The mbers who could cast long-range spells quickly backed away midair, aiming their hands at the monster. But just as they prepared to unleash their attacks, the scorpion-like tail opened, and from within, a jet of sticky, mucus-like substance sprayed into the air.

“Dodge it!”

As the fluid shot toward them, Flynn instantly cast a barrier in front of himself and Leonardo. He didn’t know what that liquid was, but it was clearly dangerous.

Other mbers hastily raised barriers as well, but one was too slow—and the substance splashed over him entirely.

Just as he began to breathe a sigh of relief, thinking there was no damage, the monster’s tail shifted—returning to its sharp, stinger-like shape—and lashed out at the soaked mber, grazing his arm.

“AAAAARGH!”

“Ken!”

The mber—Ken—scread as he plumted from the air. Another mber dove after him and managed to catch him mid-fall, but by then, Ken’s torso was already entangled tightly in the monster’s {N•o•v•e•l•i•g•h•t} limb.