Chapter 203 - Translation

Chapter 203: Fire Demon The demonic aura of the cave permeated everything within, including Leon himself. Traces of this aura seeped into his body, where it was carried to his heart and into his soul realm. This foreign magic power wasn’t nearly enough to do even superficial damage, but it was certainly enough to be detected, even by those not paying attention. Case in point, Xaphan, who had been silently focusing on his recovery for several months, suddenly opened his eyes upon the aura’s entrance to Leon’s soul realm. He hadn’t so much as moved, let alone spoken aloud for three months, so focused was he on regaining his power faster than Leon was growing stronger, but this aura immediately caught his attention and pulled him out of his meditative trance. “This aura…” the demon whispered in a hoarse and guttural growl, “I know it…” Xaphan rose from his sitting position on the island, the flames covering his body burning orange and his eyes a bright gold. The more of this aura he sensed, the more enraged he became, and his fire burned higher and greater until not even the shadow of his obsidian body could be seen within. “Amon…” Xaphan spat, packing more hatred and anger into that name than he could ever properly express. — The soldiers spread themselves out on the scaffolding, which encircled the cavern to provide support and stability. There were a few creaks and moans from the wooden planks as they moved, but whatever the vampire was doing below them seemed to be taking up all of his attention. “What is he doing?” Leon asked, whispering in Adalgrim’s ear. “I think he’s trying to make ghouls,” the older knight responded. Leon frowned but was grateful that the vampire seemed to be failing at his task. Ghouls were corpses that were controlled by a demon worshipper to perform basic labor not dissimilar to stone giants or the bronze golems he’d encountered in the past, only instead of a manufactured body, ghouls were made by puppeting corpses, making them much weaker and prone to rot. Creating a handful of ghouls was one of the first steps older and stronger vampires took in their establishment of a nest. But, for one reason or another, the vampire below them couldn’t accomplish his task. He kept injecting his magic power into the corpse he was leaning over, but it remained inanimate. “GET UP!” the vampire roared at the corpse. “DO SOMETHING!” The creature forced something that glowed red deep into the corpse’s open chest and waited. For several seconds, he stood there, watching in frustration as the glowing object slowly dimmed. The vampire then turned back to the bonfire and walked to a small table with several bowls placed upon it. He reached for the largest, made of dark grey metal and covered in glowing red runes. The bowl could easily hold several gallons of blood, and from the stains on the sides Leon guessed it frequently did, but now it was almost entirely empty. Dropping to his knees, the vampire begged, “Please, my Lord, tell me where I have failed in my task. Bestow your knowledge unto me, that I may bring others into your glorious light!” Once he finished his plea, the vampire then picked up the bowl, brought it to his lips, and began to drink the last dregs of blood within. “We can’t let him finish…” Adalgrim said quietly. Looking around, the soldiers had mostly gotten into position and were waiting on him to give the word. The vampire below was chugging the last drops of blood which was causing the demonic aura that pervaded the cave to roil and churn, so Adalgrim didn’t hesitate to raise his hand and make a fist—his silent signal to attack. Immediately, eight soldiers leaped down from the scaffolding, including Adalgrim, and attacked the vampire. Three of them were wielding spears, and they plummeted toward the creature seeking to impale him as they landed. Adalgrim led the attack, while his squire, Leon, and Alix watched. Leon was a little curious as to why the fifth-tier Adalgrim wasn’t using elemental magic, but it was already too late to ask. Whether it was by his magic senses or by hearing their descent, the vampire realized what was happening and barely managed to dodge the spears by the skin of his teeth. This might’ve left the three spear-wielding soldiers vulnerable, but Adalgrim charged with his sword drawn and closed the distance between himself and the vampire in less than a second; the vampire never got a chance to retaliate against the spear-wielders. However, even when surrounded and heavily outnumbered, the blood-sucker was a terrifying foe. He dodged Adalgrim’s opening sword stab and responded with a blast of fire, sending the knight reeling. Three more soldiers attacked from behind, preventing the vampire from capitalizing on the knight’s brief vulnerability. Adalgrim took the opportunity to regain his footing and charge again, ignoring the embers that smoldered in his armor. The vampire was cornered and desperate, with strong, armored, and experienced soldiers completely surrounding him, and it was only the liberal application of demonfire that kept them at bay. There was no witty banter, no pause to speak; Adalgrim and his soldiers were the pictures of professionalism, and they didn’t give the vampire a single moment to recover, constantly attacking when his back was turned and when the demonfire dissipated. After almost a minute of applying pressure, though, the vampire began to slip up. First by only sustaining a few nicks and cuts, but eventually, Adalgrim stepped back and conjured a small ice spike about the size of a large nail in the air. This spike was launched straight into the vampire’s back, eliciting a blood-curdling cry of pain. The soldiers on the other side didn’t waste this opportunity, and charged, with one cutting off one of the vampire’s arms and the other two stabbing him in the chest. “Nooo…” the vampire moaned as his blood poured out of him and he sank to his knees. His sunken, blood-red eyes turned to the bonfire as Adalgrim stood behind him, ready to cut the creature’s head off. “Maybe you could’ve used that ice spike from the beginning?” one of the other soldiers said. “Yeah, could’ve saved a ton of time,” another responded. Adalgrim chuckled as he raised his blade and said with equal amounts of sarcasm, “I suppose that would’ve been better, but I didn’t want all of you to feel useless…” The vampire continued to stare into the fire throughout all of this, completely unmoving. He didn’t even try to rise from his kneeling position. Leon followed the vampire’s gaze out of curiosity, wondering what the creature found so compelling—assuming it wasn’t just dejection from being abandoned by the demon he worshipped. Leon froze as he stared into the fire. He saw eyes, barely visible but still distinct enough for him to know that it wasn’t a trick of the writhing flames. These eyes seemed to stare back at him. Suddenly, as Adalgrim was bringing his sword down to strike the killing blow, the vampire burst into dark red flames hurling him backward and a voice boomed throughout the cavern, shaking the rocks and causing long streams of dust and soil to fall from the ceiling. “YOU HAVE BEEN REMARKABLY DISAPPOINTING. AS YOU CANNOT PROVIDE ME WITH ANYTHING OTHER THAN MORTAL BLOOD, I WILL TAKE MY DUE FROM YOUR OWN FLESH…” Leon stared in horror as the vampire burned. The creature screamed and thrashed around, desperately trying to beat out the fire that consumed him, but demonfire isn’t so easily extinguished when provided with a steady supply of magic power. A couple of soldiers instinctively tried to get close and put out the fire, but the power radiating out from it prevented them from getting close enough. [Don’t let that being die by fire!] shouted Xaphan, taking Leon completely by surprise. [Kill him now! Don’t let that demon take him!] Leon didn’t question his partner—if this was important enough for the demon to break his months-long silence, then the least Leon could do was to take it with the utmost seriousness. Leon called upon his magic power, channeled it into his right arm, and conjured a golden lightning spear. The spear was so bright that it illuminated the entire cavern, making even the bonfire seem pale in comparison. Taking only a second to aim, Leon hurled the spear at the vampire, who had fallen to the ground and ceased to move. The spear impaled the vampire and exploded into a shower of sparks and smaller arcs of lightning, enveloping the vampire completely. The force of the blast was enough to knock back several of the other soldiers who were standing too close, and everyone had to avert their gaze to prevent the lightning from searing their eyes. The lightning dissipated after a moment, and everyone opened their eyes to see the vampire lying charred and smoking on the ground. He was dead as far as anyone could tell, with not even the faintest wisp of magical power detectable upon his corpse. The bonfire in the center of the cavern, however, was still burning just as brightly, and the eyes within stared back at Leon. There was no hatred or anger to be seen within them, but Leon could see faint annoyance in that demonic gaze. Hatred and anger, however, he could feel rippling out from Xaphan like tidal waves. [Amon…] Xaphan whispered almost too quietly for Leon to hear. The bonfire then extinguished itself, plunging the cavern into darkness. [What was that ?] Leon demanded while Adalgrim and the other soldiers swore and tried to get their bearings in the sudden dark. [… Nothing…] Xaphan muttered. [My ass that was nothing !] Leon shouted back. [I can feel your anger, demon! We’re connected by our contract, you can’t lie to me! What was that ?] Xaphan was silent for a moment, debating with himself how much he wanted to say, but he could hear the insistence in Leon’s voice and knew that he wasn’t going to give this up, so he said, [That was Amon, one of my rivals from back when I was still competing to become a Lord of Flame. It was over his corpse that I claimed the title of Lord.] [That fire didn’t seem particularly corpselike,] Leon pointed out. [No, it didn’t,] Xaphan admitted, his anger cooling with every second that passed. [But he was dead at my feet! I checked countless times—he was dead! But now I have my proof… Amon yet lives…] [‘Proof’?] Leon asked. [So you suspected this guy was still kicking?] [I was told that he survived, and while it was by a trustworthy source, it still doesn’t quite compare to encountering evidence of his survival in some random cave in the middle of a lower plane!] As they spoke, the other soldiers finished channeling magic into their eyes, adjusting their vision to the dark, and started getting organized. “Let’s try and grab these bodies!” Adalgrim called out. “If we can transport them back to the village, then we should!” “What about the vamp?” one of the soldiers asked. “Leave it,” the knight responded. Leon and Alix jumped down to help out while Anzu stayed up on the scaffolding shaking like a leaf in the wind. The young griffin wasn’t taking this experience well, what with descending so deep underground and the primal fear of fire. Leon wasn’t needed to help with the bodies, so he and Alix returned to the top of the scaffolding to comfort Anzu. The griffin had laid down on the ground and folded his wings over his eyes, shaking all the while. Leon knelt down and began stroking the fur on his back, while Alix made soft humming sounds. It worked, as when the soldiers climbed back up the scaffolding with the bodies of the villagers, Anzu had stopped shaking, stood up, and tried to curl up into Leon’s arms. He still wouldn’t let Alix touch him, though, snapping at her when she tried. “That’s rude,” Alix said with a frown, trying not to sound too offended. “I’m sure he’ll come around eventually,” Leon said sincerely. It was starting to grate on his nerves a little how much Anzu depended on him, especially since he wouldn’t eat much unless Leon himself fed him. Regardless, the griffin had calmed down enough to follow Leon and the rest of the soldiers as they marched back out of the cave. [So, can you tell me any more about this ‘Amon’?] Leon asked as he walked. [… No,] Xaphan answered. [Really? After what I just saw?! That demon looked like it was going to try and burn us all to death!] [That would’ve been impossible,] Xaphan replied. [All he was trying to take was the magic power within that vampire, and he wasn’t being gentle about it.] [And you didn’t want him to take that power, so you had me kill the vampire,] Leon observed. [Right. It’s only denying him a minuscule amount of power, but I still couldn’t stand to let him have it!] Leon waited for Xaphan to continue, but after several seconds he realized the demon wasn’t going to. [Very well,] he said. [I’ll let you keep this secret for now, but I expect a story one of these days…] [That’s… fair,] Xaphan responded. The rest of the walk back out of the cave was done in silence. !

**Chapitre 203 : Le Démon de Feu** L'aura démoniaque imprégnant la caverne se répandait inexorablement, contaminant jusqu'à Leon lui-même. Des filaments de cette énergie ténébreuse s'insinuaient dans sa chair, pénétrant son cœur et infestant son domaine spirituel. Bien que trop faible pour lui infliger la moindre égratignure, cette présence magique étrangère demeurait suffisamment perceptible pour alerter même les moins sensibles. La preuve en fut donnée lorsque Xaphan, plongé dans une méditation silencieuse depuis des mois dans le but de restaurer sa puissance plus rapidement que Leon ne progressait, ouvrit brusquement les yeux. Trois mois s'étaient écoulés sans qu'il ne prononce un mot ni n'esquisse un geste. Pourtant, cette aura vampirique arracha instantanément le démon à sa transe. « Cette aura... », gronda-t-il d'une voix rauque et caverneuse. « Je la connais... » Se dressant de son trône insulaire, Xaphan vit les flammes orangées envelopper son corps d'obsidienne tandis que ses yeux s'illuminaient d'un or incandescent. À mesure qu'il percevait l'aura, sa fureur grandissait, attisant son feu intérieur jusqu'à ce que l'ombre même de sa silhouette disparaisse dans l'éclat. « Amon... », cracha-t-il, imprimant dans ce simple nom des siècles de haine inassouvie. — Sur les échafaudages entourant la caverne, les soldats prenaient position avec discrétion. Les planches de bois gémissaient sous leurs bottes, mais le vampire en contrebas, absorbé par son macabre rituel, n'y prêta aucune attention. « Que fabrique-t-il ? » murmura Leon à l'oreille d'Adalgrim. « Il tente manifestement d'engendrer des goules », répondit le chevalier vétéran. Leon sentit un frisson lui parcourir l'échine, rassuré toutefois par l'échec patent du vampire. Les goules, ces cadavres animés par la magie noire pour servir de sbires, lui rappelaient les golems de bronze ou les géants de pierre qu'il avait déjà affrontés. Mais là où ces derniers possédaient une structure artificielle robuste, les goules n'étaient que chair putrescible, fragile et éphémère. Leur création constituait pourtant une étape cruciale pour tout vampire ancien cherchant à établir son repaire. Pourtant, contre toute attente, le vampire échouait lamentablement. Malgré les flots d'énergie noire qu'il injectait dans le cadavre à ses pieds, celui-ci demeurait inerte. « LÈVE-TOI ! » hurla le vampire d'une voix stridente. « AGIS ! » Il enfonça violemment un artefact rougeoyant dans la poitrine béante du cadavre avant d'observer, impuissant, sa lueur s'éteindre progressivement. Dépité, le suceur de sang se tourna vers le bûcher crépitant et se dirigea vers une table où s'alignaient des bols rituels. Il saisit le plus grand, un récipient de métal sombre gravé de runes écarlates, assez vaste pour contenir plusieurs litres de sang - à en juger par les traînées séchées sur ses bords. Mais aujourd'hui, il n'en restait qu'un fond misérable. « Je vous en supplie, mon Seigneur, éclairez mon impuissance », implora le vampire en se prosternant. « Accordez-moi votre sagesse afin que je puisse offrir davantage d'âmes à votre gloire ! » Sa prière terminée, il porta le bol à ses lèvres et en avala les ultimes gouttes. « Nous ne pouvons le laisser achever son œuvre », murmura Adalgrim. Autour d'eux, les soldats, parfaitement positionnés, n'attendaient que son signal. Alors que le vampire ingurgitait les dernières bribes de son offrande, faisant frémir l'aura démoniaque emplissant la caverne, Adalgrim leva la main et serra le poing - l'ordre silencieux de l'assaut. Huit guerriers jaillirent des échafaudages, dont Adalgrim en tête. Trois d'entre eux brandissaient des lances destinées à embrocher le vampire dès leur atterrissage. Leon et Alix, restés en retrait, observaient la scène. Le jeune homme s'étonnait qu'Adalgrim, pourtant un mage de cinquième niveau, n'utilisât aucun sort élémentaire, mais il était trop tard pour s'interroger. Qu'il ait perçu leur magie ou simplement entendu leur chute, le vampire esquiva de justesse les lances. Les porteurs de lance se retrouvèrent vulnérables, mais Adalgrim bondit, épée au clair, couvrant la distance en un éclair. Le vampire n'eut même pas le temps de riposter. Pourtant, même acculé et largement surpassé en nombre, le suceur de sang demeurait un adversaire redoutable. Il para la première estocade d'Adalgrim et contre-attaqua par une vague de feu démoniaque, repoussant le chevalier. Trois soldats profitèrent de l'ouverture pour frapper dans son dos, l'empêchant d'exploiter cette brèche. Adalgrim en profita pour se ressaisir et charger à nouveau, indifférent aux braises rongeant son armure. Le vampire, désespéré, ne parvenait à contenir ces guerriers aguerris qu'en déchaînant un feu infernal continu. Adalgrim et ses hommes faisaient preuve d'une discipline implacable, ne laissant aucun répit à leur proie, frappant à chaque faille dans ses défenses. Après une minute d'assaut soutenu, le vampire commença à faiblir. D'abord par quelques égratignures, puis Adalgrim recula pour invoquer dans les airs un éclat de glace gros comme un poing. Le projectile transperça le dos du vampire, provoquant un hurlement déchirant. Les soldats en face ne laissèrent pas passer l'occasion : l'un lui trancha le bras, les autres lui enfoncèrent leurs armes dans la poitrine. « Noooon... », gémit le vampire en s'effondrant à genoux, son sang noir s'écoulant à flots. Ses yeux injectés de sang se tournèrent vers le bûcher alors qu'Adalgrim se positionnait derrière lui, lame haute. « Tu pouvais lancer ce sort glacial dès le début ? », interrogea un soldat. « Ça nous aurait épargné du temps », renchérit un autre. Adalgrim eut un rictus en levant son arme : « Je suppose, mais je ne voulais pas vous rendre obsolètes... » Le vampire, étrangement, fixait toujours les flammes, immobile. Il ne tenta même pas de se relever. Intrigué, Leon suivit son regard, se demandant ce qui pouvait captiver à ce point un mourant - à moins qu'il n'ait simplement renoncé, abandonné par son maître démoniaque. Leon sentit ses muscles se figer lorsqu'il scruta le brasier. Parmi les flammes dansantes, une paire d'yeux le fixait en retour - à peine visibles, mais indéniablement présents. Soudain, alors qu'Adalgrim s'apprêtait à trancher, le vampire s'embrasa d'un feu rouge sombre qui le projeta en arrière. Une voix tonitruante ébranla la caverne, faisant pleuvoir des gravats du plafond : « TU M'AS DÉÇU AU-DELÀ DE TOUTE MESURE. PUISQUE TU NE M'OFFRES QUE DU SANG MORTEL, JE ME SERVIRAI DIRECTEMENT DANS TA CHAIR... » Horrifié, Leon vit le vampire se tordre dans les flammes, hurlant alors que le feu démoniaque le consumait vivant. Quelques soldats tentèrent instinctivement d'intervenir, mais une énergie maléfique les repoussa. *[Ne laisse pas cette créature périr dans les flammes !]* hurla Xaphan, brisant des mois de silence. *[Tue-le maintenant ! Empêche ce démon de s'en repaître !]* Leon n'hésita pas - si Xaphan rompait ainsi son mutisme, la situation devait être critique. Concentrant sa magie dans son bras droit, il matérialisa une lance de foudre dorée dont l'éclat surpassa même celui du bûcher. En un éclair, la lance transperça le vampire déjà effondré avant d'exploser en une myriade d'éclairs. La déflagration projeta les soldats environnants, forçant tout le monde à détourner le regard. Quand la lumière se dissipa, il ne restait qu'un cadavre carbonisé, totalement dépourvu de magie résiduelle. Pourtant, les yeux dans les flammes fixaient toujours Leon, empreints non de haine, mais d'une irritation presque... dédaigneuse. Une colère bien plus tangible émanait cependant de Xaphan. *[Amon...]* murmura le démon, comme pour lui-même. Puis le bûcher s'éteignit brusquement, plongeant la caverne dans les ténèbres. *[C'était quoi, ce truc ?!]* s'exclama Leon tandis qu'Adalgrim et ses hommes juraient dans l'obscurité soudaine. *[... Rien...]* grommela Xaphan. *[À d'autres !]* rétorqua Leon. *[Je ressens ta fureur, démon ! Notre pacte m'interdit d'être berné ! Explique-toi !]* Xaphan hésita, mesurant ses révélations. Mais devant l'insistance de Leon, il capitula : *[Amon fut mon rival lors de ma quête pour devenir Seigneur des Flammes. C'est sur son corps que j'ai forgé mon titre.]* *[Ces flammes n'avaient rien d'un cadavre]*, releva Leon. *[Non,]* concéda Xaphan, sa rage s'étiolant. *[Mais je l'ai vu mourir ! Je l'ai vérifié cent fois - il était bel et bien mort ! Pourtant... cette vision confirme qu'Amon vit toujours.]* *[Tu le soupçonnais donc ?]* *[On m'en avait averti. Une source fiable, mais cela ne vaut pas cette confrontation dans une caverne perdue d'un plan inférieur !]* Pendant leur échange, les soldats recouvrèrent peu à peu leur vision nocturne et se réorganisèrent. « Récupérons ces corps ! » ordonna Adalgrim. « Si nous pouvons les ramener au village, faisons-le. » « Et le vampire ? » « Laissez-le. » Leon et Alix descendirent prêter main-forte tandis qu'Anzu, tremblant comme une feuille sur l'échafaudage, refusait de bouger. Le jeune griffon, tiraillé entre sa peur viscérale du feu et son aversion pour les profondeurs, était au bord de la panique. Une fois les corps remontés, Leon rejoignit Alix pour calmer l'animal. Celui-ci s'était recroquevillé, ailes couvrant ses yeux, secoué de tremblements incontrôlables. Leon le caressa doucement tandis qu'Alix entonnait une berceuse. Peu à peu, Anzu se calma, cherchant même à se blottir contre Leon - tout en grognant lorsque Alix tentait de l'imiter. « Quelle ingratitude », bougonna-t-elle, blessée malgré ses efforts pour le cacher. « Il s'habituera », assura Leon, bien que la dépendance excessive du griffon commence à le lasser - surtout depuis qu'Anzu refusait de se nourrir si ce n'était de sa main. Quoi qu'il en soit, le griffon avait suffisamment recouvré ses esprits pour les suivre hors de la caverne. *[Alors, tu vas m'en dire plus sur ce Amon ?]* questionna Leon en marchant. *[... Non.]* *[Sérieusement ? Après ce spectacle ? Ce démon avait l'air de vouloir nous réduire en cendres !]* *[Impossible,]* rétorqua Xaphan. *[Il ne cherchait qu'à siphonner la magie du vampire, sans ménagement.]* *[Et tu as voulu l'en empêcher, d'où ton ordre de le tuer.]* *[Exact. Une infime parcelle de pouvoir, certes, mais je refuse de lui céder le moindre atome !]* Leon attendit une explication plus complète, mais Xaphan se murà de nouveau dans le silence. *[Très bien,]* concéda-t-il finalement. *[Je patienterai... mais j'exigerai des réponses un jour.]* *[C'est... équitable.]* Le reste de la marche s'effectua dans un silence pesant.