Chapter 96 - Translation

Chapter 96: Safety Measures The Master stared hollow-eyed at Leon, lost in the past. He genuinely regretted killing the Storm King back then. He had fallen into something of a rut after the battles with the Thunderbird Clan, and it took him a while to figure out why; those two battles had been the last time he felt alive. Ever since, he had been overcome with boredom more often than not, with hardly anything to break the monotony he so despised yet had grown accustomed to. “Here’s the thing,” the Master suddenly said, startling the Disciple. “I don’t want that boy killed. Let him grow strong. I love making new friends, but I love having strong rivals even more. I can’t wait to see which he’ll be…” “And if he starts worshipping that demon within him?” asked the Disciple with a big frown appearing on his face. “Then he worships the demon within him,” answered the Master quite matter-of-factly. It didn’t matter to him if Leon was a demon worshipper. All he cared about was that he had the potential to shake up the status quo, and maybe, just maybe, grow strong enough to give him as exhilarating a fight as the Storm King had. The Master just hoped Leon didn’t get himself killed before then. — The mood in the Snow Lions’ camp was beyond jubilant; they had managed to secure not only their own banner, they’d even gotten the Deathbringers’ banner! And since no one knew where they had gone after leaving their tower, there was next to no danger of retaliation. If they weren’t as tired as they were, they would have undoubtedly started partying. Instead, they split off into their own small friend groups to excitedly chat about what to do over the weekend. Leon’s group, consisting of the man himself plus Charles, Matthew, Bohemond, Alain, and Henry all collapsed onto a number of chairs carved into the side of the cave. The cave systems the Snow Lions had moved into were quite extensive, as they found out in the days following their move. They had been specifically designed to house an entire training unit and so had several lounges complete with stone furniture. These caves weren’t nearly as comfortable as their tower, but they were perfectly adequate for resting after a late-night raid on a rival unit. “Haha! And did you see the faces of those oh so high and mighty third-tier nut-lickers when they came outside?! Priceless!” Henry shouted in glee. “Yeah! They normally consider themselves invincible among the lower tiers, but that attitude didn’t prove arrow-proof!” added a smiling Bohemond. “Ahhh, damned satisfying evening the score,” muttered a sleepy Charles. “But what’s going to be even more satisfying is getting back into the city tomorrow!” “Damn skippy, my friend! I think I might go insane if I stay in these caves another week without a break! Any of you got plans?” asked Henry. “Food,” responded Alain. “All the food. I’m getting all the food and putting it in my face.” Matthew raised an eyebrow, looking quite interested. “That is the best idea anyone has ever had. You know, there’s this place I know run by a guy from the Samar Kingdom, serves the best kebabs in the city. I’ve been craving some lately, want to go with me?” “Sure, but that certainly isn’t going to be my only stop for the day. I said all the food, and I meant it!” “Anyone else want in?” Matthew asked, looking around at the other four. “Sure!” said Bohemond instantly, making it clear just how eager he was to get some food that Leon didn’t have to carry back to the caves. “I’ll go too, but I’m reserving my afternoon for finding some ladies,” replied Henry. “I’m out. Spending time with Jeanne,” said Charles, to the disappointment of the other three. “*Fwooh-Ksh!*,” said Henry, miming the snapping of a whip. “Whatever, man. I get to spend time with my girl, while you’ve got to impress some random woman on the street with your winning personality. Good luck,” responded Charles, his words dripping with sarcasm. “Got room for one more for the food thing?” asked Leon, shocking the others into momentary silence; Leon asking to go with was perhaps the most unexpected thing he could’ve said. “Really?” Matthew asked upon recovery. “… Yeah. I like food, and Alain’s plan of finding and eating as much of it as possible sounds great…” Leon said. “Well the more the merrier!” shouted Alain, throwing his arm around Leon and laughing. With their plans set, they didn’t say too much more. They, like most of the other tired Snow Lions, simply sat back to savor their victory and the reclamation of their banner. After about fifteen minutes, the Instructors arrived. All the Snow Lions were called to gather around them in the largest cavern. “That was damn fine work, everyone! Get those banners over here so we all can see!” shouted the Senior Instructor. Normally, he was of an exceptionally stern and sober disposition, but once Aemilius and Castor brought both banners out, he allowed himself to crack a rare smile. The two Snow Lions raised the banners high, and the rest of the unit couldn’t help but puff out their chests in pride. A few of them even cheered. They quieted down quickly when the Senior Instructor indicated that he had something to say, though. “Now, as I told you previously, the restrictions I placed upon the unit preventing you lot from heading into the city can only be enforced for units that don’t have banners! You have seized yours back, so those restrictions are now lifted! After breakfast tomorrow, the three of us will hand out the stipends, including the money that has backed up over the past month, then you will all be released!” With that said, the Instructors didn’t stick around and departed, leaving the Snow Lions standing in stunned silence in the cavern. The surprise was understandable for them, as the Instructors had told them that they would be receiving a much larger amount of money than they were expecting. That silence didn’t last long, and the Snow Lions broke back into their usual groups. Most didn’t stay awake to talk for very long, heading for their tents less than half an hour after the Instructors left. They wanted to be fresh and well-rested for the following day. Leon’s group wasn’t an exception to this, with most of them going to bed without staying up to train. Given how their night had gone thus far, none of them felt any pressing need for the extra combat training. Charles did meditate for half an hour before falling asleep, though. Leon intended to do the same, feeling that nothing would cap the night off like some good restful meditation, but Castor seemed to have other plans. He approached Leon and said, “Hey, do you mind if we talk a little?” Leon frowned, but said, “I suppose it’s fine…” “Good. Head to our meeting chambers, I’m going to get Alphonsus to join us. We need to make some plans in case the Deathbringers attack us in the streets again.” “I guess. Not much we can do to stop them save for attacking them as they leave their tower in the morning, though.” “… Hopefully, that won’t be necessary.” Leon certainly had more to say about that, but he ended up holding his tongue and silently walking to the meeting chamber while Castor went to find Alphonsus. He found his target relaxing with a pair of his second-tier followers, not quite tired enough for sleep. “Hey, let’s talk a bit,” Castor said, interrupting the conversation. Alphonsus momentarily frowned at the annoyance before his face turned back into a lazy smile. “Yeah, I figure we have some things to talk about.” The two third-tier nobles walked to the meeting room in awkward silence. They were friends, born to a pair of southern noble houses whose lands bordered each other, yet neither was able to find any words to say to the other. Things between them had become awkward ever since Castor supported Leon’s idea to move out of the tower and into the caves. Alphonsus had argued vehemently against the idea as he was loath to leave the comforts of the tower behind, but in the end, his unwillingness to give up the finer things lost to Castor’s and Leon’s desire to move the Snow Lions to a safer location while giving them much harder training conditions. “So,” began Castor once he and Alphonsus entered the meeting room, “there’s no doubt in my mind that the Deathbringers will be planning some kind of retaliation.” Alphonsus raised an eyebrow in confusion. “Oh? I thought…” “What?” asked Castor after a moment of silence. “Nothing…” “Come on, my friend, out with it!” “… It’s just that, I thought this talk was about the unit moving back into the tower…” Castor looked at Alphonsus in confusion, not quite sure he’d heard his friend correctly. “We… It was never the plan for us to leave these caves, Al. They give us a tremendous advantage since none of the other units know where we are and they’re quite defensible even if they somehow manage to find out.” “I guess…” muttered Alphonsus. His shoulders slumped down a little and the happy light in his eyes vanished. He didn’t say another word for the rest of the meeting. “Back to the matter at hand,” continued Castor after Alphonsus made it clear through his body language that he wasn’t going to press the issue, “we ought to prepare some kind of counter-strategy.” “Well, there isn’t much we can actually do to prevent the Deathbringers from retaliation, though it probably won’t be tomorrow,” said Leon. The possibility of the Deathbringer’s Senior Instructor invoking the same policy that his counterpart in the Snow Lions had that deprived the Snow Lions of their weekend privileges only crossed Leon’s mind long enough for him to dismiss it; their own Senior Instructor had indicated that such an invocation was rare and thought to be cruel enough that the Legate had considered banning it. “What makes you say that?” asked Castor with genuine curiosity. Ever since he and Leon had fought almost back-to-back when the Deathbringers attacked their tower, he had developed a great respect for the other man, and he started putting a greater and greater deal of stock in what Leon had to say. “There isn’t much time for them to coordinate assaults on our guys again, especially with the morale blow of losing their banner and needing to wait for their unconscious people to wake up. Maybe they’ll seek retribution next week, but I think tomorrow ought to be fairly safe.” “I still think we should come up with a few rules for our unit to follow. For instance, those who were ambushed in the city back then were only attacked when they were in relatively low-traffic areas. If our people stay in more crowded locations, we can hopefully avoid those kinds of attacks.” “If you really want to avoid anything happening, we could always do what I mentioned earlier and just ambush the Deathbringers on their way out of their tower…” Leon said with a vicious smile. “No. Let’s not get too personal here. If they make moves against us off Academy grounds, then that’s another story, but for now, let’s wait and see how they handle losing their banner.” “So if they do attack us in the city…” Leon began. “Then we’ll hit them back Sunday morning,” responded Castor without hesitation. “Good,” Leon said, the smile he was wearing growing slightly wider. ‘If I didn’t know better, I’d say he actually wants them to attack us tomorrow!’ thought Castor, seeing Leon’s look of anticipation. “Additionally,” Castor continued out loud, “we ought to make sure the rest of the unit travels in groups of three or more. Safety in numbers.” “Makes sense,” Leon agreed. “And come to think of it, are we allowed to carry our training weapons outside of the Academy?” “We can ask the Senior Instructor tomorrow. Moving on, we should also move as an entire unit back to the tower…” Leon paused for a moment to fetch a detailed map of the training grounds. “… and we ought to decide on a good route. If I were in the Deathbringers, I would have someone watching our tower just in case anyone returned. If the returning group was small enough then they would be open for an ambush, while if it wasn’t, simply following the direction they came from could give a clue as to where the camp was. Thus, we need to figure out an approach direction beforehand, then proceed on to the city from there.” “That’s an excellent point. We can also have our trainees meet back up in the tower when their business is done in the city, then we can return to the camp together.” “Exactly what I was thinking.” Leon and Castor spoke for a few more minutes to hammer out the remaining details. They were so into their discussion that they didn’t even notice Alphonsus roll his eyes and leave until after the meeting had come to an end. !

**Chapitre 96 : Mesures de sécurité** Le Maître fixa Léon d'un regard vide, comme happé par les souvenirs. Une sincère pince au cœur lui rappela son regret d'avoir tué le Roi de la Tempête jadis. Après les combats contre le Clan de l'Oiseau-Tonnerre, il avait sombré dans une routine morne, mettant un temps considérable à comprendre pourquoi : ces deux batailles avaient été les dernières où il s'était véritablement senti vivant. Désormais, l'ennui le rongeait en permanence, à peine soulagé par quelques distractions insignifiantes. Une monotonie qu'il exécrait profondément, mais à laquelle il s'était résigné. « Voilà le nœud du problème, annonça soudain le Maître, faisant sursauter son Disciple. Je refuse qu'on tue ce garçon. Laisse-le grandir en puissance. J'adore me faire de nouveaux amis, mais un rival redoutable me comble davantage encore. J'ai hâte de découvrir l'étendue de son potentiel... » « Et s'il se met à vénérer le démon qui l'habite ? » interrogea le Disciple, une grimace de dégoût déformant ses traits. « Alors il vénérera son démon intérieur », répliqua le Maître avec un pragmatisme glacé. Que Léon soit un adorateur de démons lui importait peu. L'essentiel résidait dans sa capacité à bouleverser l'ordre établi, et peut-être – juste peut-être – à devenir assez fort pour lui offrir un duel aussi enivrant que celui contre le Roi de la Tempête. Le Maître espérait simplement que Léon survivrait assez longtemps pour cela. — Une euphorie sans précédent régnait parmi les Lions des Neiges. Non seulement ils avaient récupéré leur bannière, mais ils s'étaient emparés de celle des Porteurs de Mort ! Et comme personne ne connaissait leur nouvelle cachette, les risques de représailles étaient infimes. Si la fatigue ne les avait pas terrassés, les festivités auraient déjà commencé. À la place, ils se dispersèrent en petits groupes, échangeant avec excitation leurs projets pour le week-end. Le groupe de Léon – composé de Charles, Matthew, Bohémond, Alain et Henry – s'affala sur les sièges de pierre taillés dans les parois de la grotte. Le réseau souterrain où ils avaient élu domicile se révélait bien plus vaste qu'imaginé. Conçues pour abriter une unité entière, les cavités comprenaient plusieurs salles de détention meublées de bancs et tables lithiques. Loin du confort de leur tour, mais parfaites pour se remettre d'un raid nocturne. « Haha ! Avez-vous vu la tête de ces fanfarons de troisième tier quand ils ont déboulé ? Inestimable ! » s'esclaffa Henry, les yeux pétillants. « Ouais ! D'habitude, ils se croient intouchables face aux petits tiers, mais leur arrogance a fondu comme neige au soleil sous nos flèches ! » renchérit Bohémond, un sourire carnassier aux lèvres. « Ahhh, putain, quel bonheur de régler nos comptes, murmura un Charles ensommeillé. Mais le summum, ce sera demain en ville ! » « Tu m'étonnes ! Je vais péter les plombs si je reste cloîtré ici sans pause ! Des projets, les gars ? » interrogea Henry. « De la bouffe, asséna Alain. Rien que de la bouffe. Je vais tout engloutir jusqu'à l'indigestion. » Matthew haussa un sourcil intrigué. « Idée géniale. Tiens, je connais un Samarois qui tient un échoppe – ses kebabs sont légendaires. Ça te dit ? » « Carrément, mais ce ne sera qu'une étape. J'ai bien dit *toute* la bouffe, et c'était pas une figure de style ! » « D'autres intéressés ? » lança Matthew en parcourant l'assistance. « Ouais ! » s'exclama Bohémond sans hésiter, manifestement excité à l'idée de manger autre chose que les rations de Léon. « Moi aussi, mais je réserve l'après-midi pour draguer », déclara Henry. « Je passe – je suis avec Jeanne », annonça Charles, déclenchant des grognements déçus. « *Fwooh-Ksh !* », imita Henry en mimant un coup de fouet. « Rien à foutre, mon pote. Moi, je passe du temps avec ma meuf, alors que *toi*, tu dois séduire une inconnue avec ton charisme en toc. Bon courage. » Le sarcasme de Charles gouttait comme du miel empoisonné. « Y a de la place pour un de plus dans cette expédition culinaire ? » demanda soudain Léon, surprenant l'assemblée. « Sérieux ? » s'étonna Matthew. « ... Ouais. J'aime manger, et le plan d'Alain me semble parfait... », admit Léon. « Plus on est de fous, plus on rit ! » s'exclama Alain en lui passant un bras autour des épaules. Leurs plans finalisés, la discussion s'éteignit. Comme le reste des Lions exténués, ils se laissèrent bercer par la satisfaction de leur victoire. Quinze minutes plus tard, les instructeurs firent leur apparition. Tous furent convoqués dans la grande caverne. « Beau travail ! Exposez ces bannières ! » ordonna l'Instructeur Principal. D'habitude inflexible, il esquissa un rare sourire quand Aemilius et Castor brandirent leurs trophées. Les deux Lions levèrent les étendards sous les acclamations. L'orgueil gonflait chaque poitrine, certains hurlant de joie avant de se taire au geste de l'instructeur. « Rappel : les restrictions de sortie ne concernaient que les unités sans bannière. Vous avez récupéré la vôtre – elles sont levées ! Après le petit-déjeuner, vous toucherez vos soldes, y compris les arriérés, puis vous serez libres ! » Sur ce, les instructeurs partirent, laissant les Lions médusés. La surprise venait de l'annonce d'une solde bien plus conséquente qu'attendu. Le silence se brisa vite. La plupart regagnèrent leurs tentes dans la demi-heure, soucieux d'être frais pour le lendemain. Le groupe de Léon n'échappa pas à la règle. Seul Charles médita trente minutes avant de dormir. Léon projetait d'en faire autant, mais Castor en décida autrement : « Une minute, tu peux ? » Léon fronça les sourcils. « Si tu veux... » « Bien. Retrouvons-nous en salle de réunion – je vais chercher Alphonsus. Il nous faut un plan contre d'éventuelles attaques des Porteurs de Mort en ville. » « Logique. À moins de les attaquer demain à leur sortie de tour, nos options sont limitées. » « ... J'espère que ça n'ira pas jusque-là. » Léon se mordit la langue et gagna la salle en silence tandis que Castor partait convaincre Alphonsus. Il le trouva en pleine discussion avec deux partisans du deuxième tier. « On a besoin de parler », coupa Castor. Alphonsus leva un sourcil agacé avant d'afficher un sourire forcé. « Je m'en doutais. » Les deux nobles marchèrent côte à côte dans un silence tendu. Amis d'enfance issus de maisons voisines, ils n'avaient plus rien à se dire depuis que Castor avait soutenu l'exode vers les grottes – une décision qu'Alphonsus avait vivement combattue, avant de céder face à leur détermination. « Écoute, je suis convaincu que les Porteurs de Mort vont contre-attaquer », entama Castor une fois installé. Alphonsus parut surpris. « Je croyais que... » « Quoi ? » « Rien... » « Allez, dis-le ! » « ... Je pensais qu'on allait parler de notre retour dans la tour... » Castor le dévisagea, incrédule. « Ces grottes sont notre meilleure protection. Personne ne nous y trouve, et elles sont facilement défendables. » « Si tu le dis... », murmura Alphonsus, l'éclat de ses yeux s'éteignant. Il resta mutique durant le reste de la réunion. « Revenons au sujet, reprit Castor après ce silence éloquent. Il nous faut un plan défensif. » « Les représailles ne viendront probablement pas demain, estima Léon. L'idée que leur instructeur leur impose les mêmes restrictions lui effleura l'esprit avant d'être écartée : une telle mesure était jugée assez cruelle pour risquer l'interdiction par le Légat. « Pourquoi ça ? » s'enquit Castor, curieux. Depuis leur combat commun, il portait une attention croissante aux analyses de Léon. « Ils n'auront pas le temps de s'organiser, surtout après le coup porté à leur moral. La semaine prochaine, peut-être, mais demain devrait être calme. » « Restons prudents. Ceux attaqués en ville l'ont été dans des zones désertes. Évitons-les. » « Si tu *tiens vraiment* à être tranquille, on pourrait appliquer mon idée de les attaquer à leur sortie... », glissa Léon avec un sourire prédateur. « Non. Pas de provocation. S'ils nous attaquent hors de l'Académie, ce sera différent, mais attendons leur réaction à la perte de leur bannière. » « Donc s'ils passent à l'action... », commença Léon. « On les écrase dimanche matin », coupa Castor, sans hésitation. « Parfait. » Le sourire de Léon s'élargit. *On dirait presque qu'il* *espère* *qu'ils nous attaquent...* pensa Castor en observant son expression avide. « Autre point : déplacez-vous par groupes d'au moins trois. La sécurité par le nombre. » « Évident. » « Question : peut-on emporter nos armes d'entraînement en ville ? » « À vérifier demain. Sinon, retournons à la tour en groupe... » Léon déplia une carte. « ... avec un itinéraire précis. S'ils nous surveillent, un petit groupe serait vulnérable, un gros pourrait trahir notre position. Mieux vaut diverger vers la ville après. » « Excellente idée. On peut aussi organiser des regroupements post-sortie. » « Exactement. » Ils peaufinèrent les détails, trop absorbés pour remarquer le départ prématuré d'Alphonsus, qui leva les yeux au ciel avant de s'éclipser.