Chapter 158 - Translation

Chapter 158: Battle for the Fort VI Leon felt incredible. It was like he knew exactly where every speck of power within him was, and as if he could direct it with perfect control. It wasn’t that he was stronger or more powerful, but that his magic flowed through him with such ease as to be startling. ‘Is this… the fourth-tier?’ he wondered. However, before he could really do anything to experiment, he heard Xaphan shout, [The Valemen are here! One of them is preparing to launch a wind blade at the tower!] Leon’s eyes widened in alarm as he stood up from where he was kneeling and drew his sword. He cut an imposing figure, standing in the center of the tower with his armor on and sword drawn, and he drew the eyes of every soldier standing guard. “We’re under attack!” he shouted, making his voice heard above the rain and wind. There was a moment of silence as the soldiers processed what he had just said, and then they all scrambled to rise and arm themselves. “Alix, go downstairs and raise the alarm!” Leon continued. Alix quickly nodded and ran downstairs, her relief that Leon seemed to be back to normal vanishing into the panic of another Valeman attack. Then, Leon turned his attention to Xaphan. [Where is the attack coming from? The south?] [Of course it’s coming from the south!] the demon responded, with a slightly irritated tone at being asked such a question. Leon wheeled around to face the south and stuck his head over the battlements. He couldn’t see a thing for the dark and the rain, and channeling magic into his eyes did little to help. He could, however, feel the magic in the air swirling around and being sucked away into the gloom, giving an idea about where the attack was going to come from. [Will I be able to use your fire to counter?] Leon asked Xaphan. [Yes,] Xaphan replied instantly. Leon smiled. He was ecstatic at the thought of finally ascending to the fourth-tier, but he had to suppress those feelings of elation until the current crisis was dealt with. He was facing down a fifth-tier mage, after all, and simply being fourth-tier wasn’t going to deliver victory to him and the rest of the soldiers in the tower. Suddenly, what looked to be a wave came streaking out of the darkness and straight toward him. In that moment, Leon summoned as much of Xaphan’s power as he could, and let loose with a huge blast of fire, into which the wind blade careened. [You stopped it,] Xaphan remarked. Leon heard the demon, but he didn’t respond. Instead, he glared back at the Valeman who had shot the wind blade, who he could now see from the light of the demon fire and from the wind blade cutting through the rain. They stared at each other until the rain extinguished the demonfire, with Leon’s stoic face hidden behind his black helmet and Hakon’s face twisting in rage. “CHAAARGE!” Hakon bellowed from below, and hundreds of Valemen sprinted out from the cover of the trees. “Fire,” Leon said just loud enough for those around him to hear. The soldiers at the top of the tower fired first, as they had the greatest range. Dozens of Valemen fell in the charge, but it was only a small drop in the bucket compared to how many were bearing down on the tower. Alix sprinted back up the stairs, drawing Leon’s attention. She nodded to him, indicating that everything was ready. To confirm it, arrows began flying out of the arrow loops on the second and third floors, fired by two of the other three squads in the tower. But, even with their casualty rate doubled, the Valemen kept charging. [There’s another wind blade coming,] Xaphan warned. Leon looked out into the rain and sensed the same gusts of magic in the air indicating a strong magical attack on its way. [Yes,] he said to Xaphan, [I can see it…] [Good,] the demon responded. After several seconds, another wind blade, much bigger than the last swept over the Valemen struggling up the muddy hill and toward the tower, and again, Leon channeled as much of Xaphan’s strength as he could. Fire burst out of his outstretched hand and met the wind blade, warping the air and dissipating the magic. However, it wasn’t enough to stop the attack; the wind blade slammed into the tower and left a light scar across the stone battlements. Leon was hurled back from where he had been standing, but the wind blade hadn’t managed to penetrate his armor, so he picked himself up and ran back to the battlements, sheathing his sword and drawing his bow as he went. Several of the soldiers—including Alix—almost abandoned the battlements to rush over to him, but his immediate rise let them breath of a sigh of relief and get back to shooting. [Please make sure to warn me if another wind blade is incoming,] Leon asked Xaphan. [I’ll be too busy to notice.] [No problem, but there may not be another,] Xaphan responded. Leon would’ve asked why, but there were Valemen who had made it to the top of the hill and were taking shelter at the foot of the tower, so he focused on his bow. He drew a handful of arrows, took a quick moment to locate suitable targets, then started shooting. In a mere two to three seconds, Leon killed four second-tier warriors and one third-tier warrior, and he was only getting started. — Hjalmar and Hrorekr stared at Hakon as he panted from the exertion of the two large wind blades. Neither said a word, as they had seen Hakon use his magic enough times to know how draining it was—and after a day of killing Southerners, Hakon was getting tired indeed. Plus, there were still hundreds of Valemen running past them to start climbing the hill, and implying any weakness on the part of the Great Chief wouldn’t do with so many of them around. “… Get… moving…” Hakon sputtered, waving his hand toward the tower. Hjalmar made a few hesitant steps in the direction of the tower, but Hrorekr shook his head in refusal, so Hjalmar came to a quick halt. “We’re not going anywhere just yet,” Hrorekr said, allowing a look of concern to appear on his face for a split second, just long enough for Hakon to see it. The Great Chief was a little angered, but a lot more happy, as he clapped Hrorekr on the shoulder with a huge smile on his face. “I’ll… be fine,” he said. “You two… goo and… break down those… doors!” “… I think Bragi can handle himself, but if you want me to reinforce him, I can do it myself,” Hjalmar said, nodding to Hrorekr. As he heard this, Hakon straightened up, took a deep breath, and forcefully said, “Get into the damned tower!” Hjalmar took off toward the hill, leaving Hrorekr to keep an eye on the exhausted Hakon. — Leon fired arrow after arrow, felling more than two dozen Valemen in less than five minutes. A few intrepid Valemen tried to shoot back at the soldiers, but the rain and the incline of the hill made that nearly impossible. Making matters worse for the Valemen were the growing piles of bodies that were accumulating all over the hill. But then, as he was searching for his next target, he saw one particular Valeman near the foot of the tower. What struck Leon about this man was his aura, which he was able to identify as fourth-tier! It wasn’t a shapeless and formless mass that blended almost seamlessly into the magic in his surroundings, but could be clearly distinguished! Leon smiled and prepared more arrows—including one he was saving for just such an occasion—targeting this Valeman. Bragi, the Valeman in question, had struggled to get up the hill; the rain seemed like it was only growing more intense, and the mass of Valemen trying to get up the hill behind him was only resulting in small mudslides. The thunder and howling wind made it prohibitively difficult for the third-tier Valemen to assert control, so by the time he made it to the tower, Bragi was left with less than a hundred Valemen at his side. And that group was only growing smaller, as the soldiers on the roof shot downward to pester him and his warriors, while those in the middle floors of the tower fired out into the sea of Valemen. Bragi himself had to rely on a shield to make it through the withering fire. He ran straight to the door on the ground floor and rammed into it with his shoulder, hurling himself into it with as much of his strength and weight as he could. He didn’t expect the door to burst open, but he did hope for some give. However, he was disappointed and slightly dismayed to see that the door held firm, without a single tremor shaking the hinges from the force of his blow. Bragi grit his teeth and tried again, slamming his shoulder into the door, but the second blow did no more than the first. Behind him, above the rain and the wind and the thunder, he could hear the sounds of Valemen falling, cursing, and screaming in pain. He howled in frustration, then threw away his shield so he could reach for the ax on his back. However, as soon as he wound himself up to try and chop through the thick wooden door, an arrow appeared from above and sank deep into his shoulder. Bragi stumbled back from the shock and pain, dropping his ax as his main weapon arm lost all strength. For a moment, all he could do was stare at the arrow sticking out of his shoulder and try to raise his arm. The Valemen around him stared in fear; seeing an injured thane was a rare thing and seeing it before their eyes filled them with dread. “BRAGI!” came a shout from the crowd of Valemen. The Valeman in question turned around, disregarding his defenses and situational awareness in the shock of his injury. Above him, Leon wasn’t going to give the Valeman an opportunity to recover, so he nocked his special arrow, one that had a spell attached to it. He held the arrow by his cheek for a split second to confirm his shot, then released. In an instant, the arrow pierced Bragi between his shoulder blades and struck Bragi’s heart. One of Hakon Fire-Beard’s last remaining thanes fell face-first to the ground, mortally wounded. As Bragi fell, Hjalmar burst forward, freeing himself from the crowd of Valemen stuck on the muddy hill behind the bodies of their kith and kin. From above, Leon could see the thane running to his fallen comrade, but he didn’t prepare another arrow. Instead, he watched and waited. “Bragi! Get up!” Hjalmar shouted as he sprinted to the side of his fallen friend, who the other warriors had pulled away from the door and behind a small shield wall. Seeing the arrows in Bragi, Hjalmar turned to the other Valemen near the tower and shouted, “Get over here and help me with hi-“ As Hjalmar shouted for help, the spell attached to Leon’s arrow activated, detonating in a spectacular pillar of bright orange flame. From the trees, Hakon and Hrorekr watched in horror as the fire enveloped Bragi, Hjalmar, and the half dozen shield-bearing Valemen who had rushed over to help. Without someone there to sustain it, the fire died down in seconds, but the damage had been done. Hjalmar and Bragi had been incinerated, and the Valemen who tried to help them were horrifically burned. Hakon and Hrorekr silently watched the last embers of the spell die in the rain, while Leon merely clenched his teeth and got back to shooting his arrows. “That man…” Hakon growled, staring up at the top of the tower. He couldn’t see through the rain and darkness, but he knew that’s where Leon was. “We’ll kill him…” Hrorekr said with a vicious look in his eyes. The two Valemen started walking forward with a slow, deliberate gait. Hakon was still recovering some of his magic power, but Hrorekr was fresh and ready for battle. Their combined auras and killing intent were towering, so much so that Leon could feel it from the tower. [I think you’ve pissed off that wind mage,] Xaphan said, unable to hide his slight anxiety. Leon frowned, then replied, [I defended against him twice, now. Doing so again shouldn’t be too difficult…] [Fighting at range is very different than fighting in close quarters,] Xaphan mused, [but I hope you’re right…] Down below, Hakon and Hrorekr’s advance seemed to part the Valemen in front of them. The hardened warriors made way for their Great Chief and his last remaining thane. With those two going forward, many thought, they might have the chance to scale the hill and join them in razing the tower. As they came into his sight, Leon targeted the two leading Valemen with his arrows. His first arrow missed. It had been aimed at Hakon’s unarmored chest, but a seeming random gust of wind knocked it off course. Fortunately, it veered into the arm of a nearby first-tier Valeman, but Leon was hardly satisfied with that. He quickly drew and fired another arrow at Hakon, but again, it was blown off course, this time to land in the mud at Hakon’s feet. [He’s using a wind barrier to deflect your arrows…] Xaphan analyzed. “Shit…” Leon muttered out loud. “They’re going to get to the door…” !

Chapitre 158 : La Bataille du Fort VI Leon se sentait incroyablement puissant. C’était comme s’il percevait chaque parcelle de magie en lui avec une clarté absolue, capable de la diriger d’un simple effort de volonté. Ce n’était pas tant une question de force brute, mais plutôt une harmonie nouvelle dans le flux de son énergie, d’une fluidité à couper le souffle. *« Serait-ce… le quatrième échelon ? »* s’interrogea-t-il intérieurement. Pourtant, avant qu’il ne puisse approfondir cette sensation, la voix de Xaphan retentit dans son esprit : [Les Valemen approchent ! L’un d’eux prépare une lame de vent dirigée vers la tour !] Les yeux de Leon s’écarquillèrent sous le choc de l’avertissement. D’un mouvement vif, il bondit sur ses pieds depuis sa position agenouillée et dégaina son épée. Sa silhouette se dressa, imposante, au centre de la tour, son armure scintillant sous les éclairs tandis que son arme attirait tous les regards des soldats en alerte. « Nous sommes attaqués ! » hurla-t-il, sa voix dominant sans peine le rugissement de l’orage. Un bref silence s’ensuivit, le temps que les hommes assimilent l’information, puis ce fut un branle-bas de combat général. « Alix, descends immédiatement donner l’alerte ! » ordonna Leon sans attendre. Alix opina d’un geste sec avant de dévaler les marches à toute allure, son soulagement face au rétablissement de Leon instantanément balayé par l’urgence de la nouvelle offensive valemane. Se tournant vers Xaphan, Leon questionna : [La direction de l’attaque ? Le sud ?] [Évidemment que c’est le sud !] rétorqua le démon, une pointe d’agacement perceptible dans sa réponse. Leon pivota vers l’orientation indiquée et scruta l’horizon par-dessus les créneaux. La nuit et le déluge rendaient toute visibilité impossible, et même en canalisant de la magie dans sa vue, il ne distinguait guère plus. Pourtant, il percevait distinctement les tourbillons d’énergie magique convergeant dans les ténèbres, lui indiquant clairement l’origine de la menace. [Puis-je utiliser tes flammes pour parer ?] interrogea-t-il Xaphan. [Absolument,] répondit sans hésitation l’entité démoniaque. Un sourire furtif traversa les traits de Leon. L’euphorie de sa probable ascension au quatrième échelon palpitait en lui, mais il dut la refouler immédiatement. La situation exigeait toute sa concentration : faire face à un mage de cinquième échelon restait périlleux, et son nouveau rang ne garantissait en rien la victoire, ni pour lui ni pour ses hommes. Soudain, une masse indistincte jaillit des ténèbres, filant droit vers lui à une vitesse terrifiante. Réagissant instantanément, Leon puisa dans la totalité du pouvoir que Xaphan pouvait lui offrir et projeta une colonne de flammes démoniaques qui intercepta la lame de vent dans un choc titanesque. [Contre réussit,] commenta sobrement Xaphan. Leon enregistra la remarque sans y répondre, son attention rivée sur le Valeman désormais visible dans la lueur des flammes. Les deux adversaires se mesurèrent du regard à travers le rideau de pluie, le visage impassible de Leon dissimulé par son heaume noir contrastant avec la fureur déformant les traits de Hakon. « CHAAARGEZ ! » beugla ce dernier depuis la base de la colline, déclenchant l’assaut de centaines de guerriers valemans surgissant de la forêt. « Feu, » ordonna Leon d’une voix calme mais portant parfaitement. Les archers postés au sommet de la tour ouvrirent les hostilités, leur position dominante leur offrant une portée optimale. Des dizaines d’assaillants s’écroulèrent sous les volées de flèches, mais leur nombre restait écrasant. Alix réapparut en haut des escaliers, captant immédiatement l’attention de Leon. Un hochement de tête lui confirma que les préparatifs étaient terminés. Comme pour sceller cette information, des projectiles commencèrent à fuser depuis les meurtrières des étages intermédiaires, doublant soudain le taux de pertes ennemies. Malgré cela, la horde valemane progressait inexorablement. [Une nouvelle lame de vent se prépare,] prévint Xaphan. Leon balaya la pluie du regard, percevant les mêmes perturbations magiques annonciatrices. [Oui,] reconnut-il, [je la sens approcher…] [Parfait,] répondit le démon. Quelques instants plus tard, une lame démesurée, bien plus massive que la précédente, balaya les rangs valemans peinant à gravir la pente détrempée. Une fois encore, Leon canalisa la puissance de Xaphan au maximum de ses capacités. Les flammes jaillissant de sa paume entrèrent en collision avec l’attaque magique, dissipant une partie de son énergie. Cependant, l’impact fut si violent que la lame résiduelle entailla profondément la pierre des créneaux. Projeté en arrière par le choc, Leon atterrit lourdement mais intact, son armure ayant absorbé l’essentiel de la force. Se relevant avec agilité, il regagna son poste tout en échangeant son épée contre son arc. Plusieurs soldats — dont Alix — eurent un mouvement vers lui avant de se raviser en constatant sa résilience. [Alerte-moi pour la prochaine lame,] demanda Leon à Xaphan. [Je serai trop occupé pour la détecter.] [Entendu, mais cela pourrait ne plus être nécessaire,] répondit l’entité. Leon allait questionner cette réplique lorsqu’une vague de Valemen atteignit enfin le sommet de la colline. Concentrant toute son attention sur son arc, il sélectionna une poignée de flèches spéciales avant d’entamer une série de tirs d’une précision mortelle. En quelques minutes, une vingtaine de guerriers — dont plusieurs de troisième échelon — gisaient à terre. — Hjalmar et Hrorekr observaient Hakon, visiblement éprouvé après le lancement de deux lames de vent d’une telle puissance. Aucun n’osa rompre le silence, connaissant le coût énergétique exorbitant de telles attaques — d’autant plus après une journée entière de combats. Par ailleurs, des centaines de leurs guerriers continuaient à défiler vers la colline, et toute marque de faiblesse de leur chef en leur présence aurait été catastrophique. « … Allez… y… » haleta Hakon, esquissant un geste vers la tour. Hjalmar fit un pas hésitant dans cette direction, mais Hrorekr secoua vivement la tête en signe de désapprobation, stoppant net son élan. « Nous restons ici pour l’instant, » déclara ce dernier, laissant transparaître une infime inquiétude que Hakon ne manqua pas de remarquer. Le chef valeman ressentit une légère irritation, mais surtout une satisfaction certaine, et il frappa l’épaule de Hrorekr avec un large sourire. « Je… vais bien, » affirma-t-il. « Vous deux… enfoncez ces… maudites portes ! » « … Bragi pourrait s’en charger, mais si tu veux que je le soutienne, j’y vais seul, » proposa Hjalmar, désignant Hrorekr du menton. À ces mots, Hakon se redressa brusquement, inspira profondément, et tonna : « Foncez dans cette tour maintenant ! » Hjalmar s’élança sans plus attendre, laissant Hrorekr veiller sur leur chef épuisé. — Leon enchaînait les tirs avec une efficacité meurtrière, abattant plus de vingt-cinq Valemen en cinq minutes à peine. Certains tentèrent bien de riposter, mais la combinaison de la pluie diluvienne et de la pente glissante rendait leurs efforts vains. Pire encore, les cadavres s’amoncelaient, formant autant d’obstacles pour les assaillants. Alors qu’il cherchait une nouvelle cible, son attention fut attirée par un guerrier isolé près de la base de la tour. Ce qui frappa Leon, c’était son aura clairement identifiable : un quatrième échelon ! Contrairement aux énergies diffuses des autres, celle-ci se détachait nettement du brouillard magique ambiant. Un sourire prédateur aux lèvres, Leon sélectionna une flèche spéciale qu’il réservait précisément pour ce genre de menace, ajustant sa visée sur le thane valeman. Bragi, le guerrier en question, avait peiné à gravir la colline transformée en bourbier. La tempête redoublait d’intensité, et les mouvements désordonnés de ses hommes ne faisaient qu’aggraver la situation. À son arrivée, il ne lui restait qu’une centaine de combattants — nombre qui diminuait rapidement sous les tirs précis des défenseurs. Lui-même devait se protéger derrière son bouclier pour avancer dans cette pluie de projectiles. Parvenu enfin devant la porte, il la heurta de toutes ses forces, espérant au moins l’ébranler. Sa déception fut grande lorsqu’elle résista sans même un grincement de gond. Il tenta un second assaut, aussi inefficace que le premier. Derrière lui, les cris de ses hommes mourant sous les flèches résonnaient sinistrement. Fou de rage, il jeta son bouclier pour saisir sa hache, mais une flèche transperça soudain son épaule droite. Sous le choc, Bragi lâcha son arme, son bras devenu inutile. Les guerriers alentour le regardèrent, médusés — voir un thane blessé était si rare que cela glaça leur sang. « BRAGI ! » hurla une voix dans la cohue. Se retournant instinctivement, le blessé négligea toute prudence, aveuglé par la douleur. Perché au-dessus, Leon n’eut aucune pitié. Il encocha une flèche enchantée, prit une micro-seconde pour ajuster, puis relâcha. Le projectile traversa Bragi entre les omoplates pour se loger dans son cœur. L’un des derniers thanes de Hakon Barbe-de-Feu s’effondra comme un pantin désarticulé. Alors qu’il s’écroulait, Hjalmar surgit de la foule, se frayant un chemin à travers le chaos. Leon observa la scène sans intervenir, attendant patiemment. « Bragi ! Relève-toi ! » hurla Hjalmar en atteignant son compagnon, que des guerriers tentaient de mettre à l’abri derrière un mur de boucliers. Voyant les flèches, il se tourna vers ses hommes : « Aidez-moi à le— » Le sortilège encapsulé dans la flèche de Leon choisit ce moment pour s’activer, engloutissant le groupe dans un pilier de flammes orangées d’une intensité aveuglante. Depuis la lisière de la forêt, Hakon et Hrorekr assistèrent, horrifiés, à l’embrasement soudain qui consuma leurs deux compagnons et six de leurs meilleurs guerriers. Les flammes s’éteignirent aussi vite qu’elles étaient apparues, ne laissant que des corps carbonisés. Une silence lourd s’abattit sur le champ de bataille. Hakon et Hrorekr contemplèrent les derniers braises mourantes sous la pluie, tandis que Leon, impassible, rechargeait simplement son arc. « Ce… démon… » gronda Hakon, fixant la tour avec une haine palpable. Bien qu’il ne distinguât rien dans l’obscurité, il savait que Leon s’y trouvait. « Nous allons le détruire… » murmura Hrorekr, les yeux brillants de vengeance. Les deux géants s’avancèrent d’un pas déterminé. Hakon récupérait encore ses forces, mais Hrorekr était frais et avide de combat. Leur présence était si intense que Leon pouvait littéralement sentir leur fureur à distance. [Tu as visiblement irrité ce mage du vent,] commenta Xaphan, une pointe d’inquiétude dans la voix. Leon fronça les sourcils avant de répondre : [Je les ai contrés deux fois. Un troisième ne devrait pas poser problème…] [Un duel à distance et un combat rapproché sont deux choses très différentes,] objecta mentalement le démon. [Espérons que tu aies raison…] En contrebas, Hakon et Hrorekr avançaient inexorablement, leurs guerriers s’écartant respectueusement devant eux. Pour beaucoup, la présence de leurs chefs annonçait enfin le tournant décisif du siège. Dès qu’ils entrèrent dans sa ligne de tir, Leon visa les deux hommes avec des flèches spéciales. La première fut déviée par une bourrasque inexplicable, se plantant dans le bras d’un malheureux guerrier voisin. La seconde atterrit dans la boue aux pieds de Hakon sans l’atteindre. [Il utilise un bouclier de vent pour dévier tes projectiles…] analysa Xaphan. « Merde… » maugréa Leon. « Ils vont atteindre la porte… »