Bermuda

"Platoon Leader, the monster is escaping!"

As the monster, clutching the injured member, immediately dove back into the water, the 8th Platoon leader gritted her teeth and raised her hand toward the fleeing creature once more.

"Air Expansion."

The surrounding air rapidly expanded and exploded as if detonated, sending up a massive spray of water. Leonardo, who had been watching their battle from afar, widened his eyes slightly in surprise at the unexpectedly large scale of the magic.

Water splashed in all directions from the spell’s aftermath, and several severed monster limbs floated to the surface.

However, the monster had already vanished into the depths, dragging the captured member with it—and the other member, who had been holding his arm, was also pulled underwater.

Seeing the black shadow retreating deeper into the lake, the 8th Platoon leader shouted,

"Delta Team, enter the water with me! Sigma Team, remain on standby in the air!"

"Yes, understood!"

Around ten members, including the 8th Platoon leader, dove into the lake simultaneously. The remaining personnel flew up to hover above the surface, ready to respond at a moment’s notice.

As the situation grew urgent, Flynn hurriedly reached for the radio and tried to call the Commander. But the transmission didn’t go through—likely because the Commander was out of radio range.

Flynn, frowning as he held the radio in frustration, soon turned to look at Leonardo. He was still seated on the rock, and when their eyes met, Leonardo only lifted one brow slightly.

"What."

Flynn had assumed that if things turned serious, Leonardo would step in. After all, members of the 6th Battalion who’d fought alongside him said that although he wasn’t friendly, he always stepped in to save others when it truly mattered.

But now, seeing him sit there like a bystander, Flynn found himself unable to muster the words to ask for help.

Leonardo, noticing his hesitation, seemed to understand what he wanted to say and casually crossed his legs, resting his chin in one hand.

"The 1st Battalion is made up of combat specialists. They'll handle it."

"But—"

Flynn looked like he wanted to argue, but Leonardo’s cold gaze turned toward the lake.

"Let’s just wait and see."

At those firm words, Flynn, though still «N.o.v.e.l.i.g.h.t» reluctant, nodded. It was true—the ones in the water were the elite of the 1st Battalion. Maybe he was overreacting.

However, after a few loud splashes were heard from within, only a few members surfaced briefly for air before diving back in. No one had emerged completely.

That meant they still hadn’t retrieved the captured members.

As more time passed, Flynn, now clearly anxious, attempted radio contact again. Still no response.

After a while, Leonardo, who had been quietly observing the lake with his chin propped in his hand, slowly rose to his feet.

Flynn turned at the sound of gravel crunching and looked at him with a flicker of hope—only to realize Leonardo’s gaze was fixed on the ground, not the lake.

The mucus-like substance the monster had ejected earlier was still wet where it had fallen. Leonardo quietly examined the puddle, then knelt before it and touched the sticky fluid with his fingers.

The transparent substance was thick with viscosity and gave off a strange odor. As Leonardo brought it closer to his mouth, Flynn’s eyes widened and he rushed forward, shouting,

“What are you doing?!”

Ignoring him, Leonardo touched the mucus to his tongue, tasted it, then immediately spat it out and stood up.

"Give me some water."

Flynn was still horrified by the act, but at his request, he quickly took a water bottle from the supply pack and handed it over. Leonardo accepted it and asked,

"Is this water from the lake?"

"No?"

Only after hearing the answer did Leonardo take a mouthful, rinse his mouth, spit it out, and begin washing the sticky substance from his hand. Flynn, still frowning in confusion, asked,

"Why the hell would you taste that stuff?"

Leonardo handed the bottle back and replied calmly,

"To find out what it is. That mucus—it’s laced with poison."

"Poison?"

Flynn’s eyes widened further, staring at the man who had just tasted it, now with genuine concern.

"It’s fine. I didn’t swallow any. And this isn’t pure toxin—it’s been diluted in the mucus. As long as it doesn’t get into an open wound, it won’t do much harm just touching the skin."

Flynn let out a huge sigh of relief, the tension in his shoulders easing. Still, his curiosity lingered.

"You could tell just by looking at it?"

But Leonardo replied with a half-smirk,

"I could tell by tasting it."

"What?! What if it had been something lethal—!"

Flynn’s voice rose in alarm, but he fell silent mid-sentence at Leonardo’s calm, unreadable expression.

It felt frustrating—like he was the only one constantly getting shocked and scolded while the other acted as if it were no big deal. Leonardo chuckled at his disgruntled face and said,

"You really think I’d just go around licking unknown poisons without a clue?"

"...So you’ve seen it before?"

Leonardo nodded.

"Remember when I told you about monster traits before we entered the peninsula?"

"Yeah."

"There was one among them that used poison."

"...Ilaptor."

Flynn recalled the name. Leonardo gave a faint smile.

"This poison behaves just like that creature’s."

Flynn let out a soft “ah” as realization dawned, then quickly turned toward the lake again, his expression now clouded.

"Then... the members who went in—will they be okay?"

Leonardo turned his gaze to the lake as well and replied,

"It’s inevitable that they’ll swallow some water during battle, but the toxin is already diluted in mucus, and with the lake being so large, the concentration won’t be enough to affect them. Not immediately, anyway."

Flynn’s anxiety didn’t vanish entirely, but Leonardo’s explanation at least gave him some reassurance. Meanwhile, Leonardo himself was deeply conflicted over whether he should step in or not.

Because no one could predict what would happen if the diluted poison lingered too long in the water while the battle dragged on.

‘Underwater combat... it’s risky.’

He furrowed his brows and glanced down at his hand. Fighting underwater was one of the worst conditions for someone like him, who relied on fire.

The water constantly tried to extinguish the flames. Trying to counter that by pouring out more mana would only make it harder to control the scale of the magic.

Electricity wasn’t an option either—he might shock his own allies. The only viable alternative was the kind of wind-based magic the 8th Platoon leader had used.

On top of that, he was facing a creature he’d never seen before. While monsters could share traits, the fact that this one had poison like Ilaptor meant it might also possess acidic properties like others.

So far, there’d been no evidence of that—at least not from the 8th Platoon leader’s attacks—but if it did possess acidic traits and its body were ruptured underwater... the consequences could be catastrophic.

But more than that, what Leonardo was most concerned about right now was the sheer number of people in the water. If he miscalculated in such a tight space, with his unstable control, he might end up harming them instead of helping.

Thinking through all of this, he ran a hand through his hair in frustration and scanned the area.

‘If just one water-type specialist was here, this could be over quickly. Where the hell is that guy and what’s taking him so long?’

If Hugo Agrizendro—an expert in water magic—were here, this would’ve been resolved in an instant. But despite the chaos, the man who had gone off to scout was nowhere to be seen.

Leonardo could feel traces of his mana now and then, but it was faint and scattered—he must have gone far.

Worse still, because of the strange conversation they’d had the previous night, Leonardo hesitated to make independent decisions. But seeing how much time had passed with no sign of Agrizendro returning, Leonardo eventually stepped forward and said to Flynn,

"I’ll go in. You go find your Commander."

Flynn’s eyes lit up, and he nodded at once. Without hesitation, he flew off in search of the Commander and the two missing members.

Leonardo watched him go, then slowly walked toward the lake, rotating his shoulders and rolling his neck to loosen up.

Under his breath, like a vow to himself, he muttered,

“Close range only. I’ll stick to close range.”

As he neared the lake, the members hovering above it looked down at him with puzzled expressions. Leonardo crossed the surface in a single stride—and before any of them could call out to him, he inhaled sharply, held his breath, and dove into the water without a word.