The Storm King

Chapter 671: Ilion’s Tools

At first, Leon found himself not particularly interested in the exhibition between the Forest Watchers and the Ilian Empire. It was between a pair of fifth-tier mages, so it wasn’t like he was going to see much in the way of magic that he’d never seen before, anyway. He was far more concerned about having the Lord Protector himself sitting next to him, even though the man had been unfailingly polite, almost more so than his station even required; and with the fact that both mages fought with weapons incredibly reminiscent of the blades of light used by the two angels he’d seen. The exhibition itself was hardly something that he thought he’d pay much attention to.

However, things changed when Emperor Adam announced the beginning of the exhibition, and the two combatants began their spar. Their styles couldn’t have been more different, and Leon found himself fascinated in watching their interplay, despite his other distractions.

Both combatants fought with ferocity, but from the moment the fight began, Leon thought that the Ilian was going to win. He fought with a bigger blade than the Watcher did, drawing what at first appeared to be a bladeless handle of a longsword, but which soon sprouted a golden blade about four feet long. The Watcher’s blade of golden light, meanwhile, was shorter, at only about three feet long. Both weapons were still magically impressive, and from what Leon could sense of their magics, were fully functional weapons, not training gear.

Blows were exchanged quickly, neither giving an inch to the other. Their defenses were practically flawless, leaving no holes that Leon could see the other could exploit, and they didn’t overcommit to any attacks. However, the Watcher seemed to have more trouble getting past the Ilian’s slight range advantage, with the longsword keeping the Watcher too far away to properly use his arming sword.

Leon was impressed with the few opening moves they made, noting that neither held much back, striking with purpose and intent and not a shred of hesitation. If either one made a mistake, they would be seriously injured or potentially killed.

Aside from that, their first exchanges were without magic, leaving it an impressive display of martial prowess, but little more than that. Leon hadn’t even a fraction of the exposure to the Forest Watchers as he’d need to form expectations, but for the Ilian Empire, he was rather disappointed.

And then, without a word from anyone else, both combatants’ auras spiked. The Ilian’s skin hardened into mottled gray stone, while the silver tattoos that covered the Watchers’ deep purple skin began to glow with magical light. Leon wasn’t entirely sure what the Watcher was doing, but both combatants threw themselves at each other, their fighting styles changing completely as they appeared to abandon all defenses.

For the Ilian, this was understandable: his stony skin could protect him like armor. The Watcher’s behavior was a little stranger, but it soon became clear why he was so willing to do this when the Ilian’s blade scraped across his ribs in a barely-dodged stab that left blood and a few drops of bright red mana running down the side of his waist. But, with a flash of light magic, the Watcher’s wound closed so quickly that only a few drops of blood were spilled, and the Watcher didn’t even slow down. In a vicious riposte, the Watcher had thrown the Ilian back, though only managing to scratch the man’s stone skin.

As the two exchanged more blows, the Ilian just taking everything the Watcher could throw at him, while the Watcher simply healed all strikes that came his way, Anastasios leaned over to whisper to Leon, “So, what do you think so far?”

Leon’s brief reverie analyzing the magic and fighting styles at work was instantly shattered, and all his momentarily forgotten discomfort came roaring back. Before he answered, he cast a quick glance around, and saw that while most people were politely watching the exhibition, there were a few whispering people taking glances of their own at him. More worryingly, the Lord Protector had turned to regard him expectantly, a strange smile on his lips.

Forcing the words out of his mouth, Leon said, “Interesting weapons.”

“That they are,” Anastasios murmured back. “Not much use in a practical setting, though. Too expensive to power—enchanted steel is still the best bet we have for serious one-on-one fighting. But for exhibitions like these, the flashier, the better.”

Leon almost snorted. “It doesn’t seem like those two are paying much mind to performance—they look like they’re actually trying to kill each other.”

“Of course they are,” Anastasios practically growled, though he still wore his pleasant smile. “One ought to never take half measures when dealing with their enemies, should they?”

Leon forced himself to smile as he stole a look at Anastasios, and found the aged man still looking at him, a smile on his lips.

The Lord Protector continued, “An enemy that lives is an enemy that can strike back at you, so the problem must be dealt with using whatever tools are available, wouldn’t you agree?”

Leon caught a strange glint in Anastasios’ nebulous eyes, and the man’s graceful smile tightened fractionally.

‘He absolutely knows who I am,’ Leon thought. Were he not with his family and a couple members of his retinue, he thought he might’ve started running right then, despite the complete lack of killing intent he could feel from the Lord Protector, and the seeming indifference to their conversation that the Emperor held—Adam was busy watching the fight and commenting on it with the ambassador from the Forest Watchers, while Cristina nodded along with whatever he was saying.

Leon couldn’t bring himself to quickly respond to Anastasios, and could barely even bring himself to smile back at the man. After several long, awkward seconds, he finally managed to asked, “And… what tools do you have at your disposal?”

Anastasios’ eyes narrowed slightly. “Steel and magic, among other things. Those who threaten my Empire pay for their transgressions in blood.”

Leon cleared his throat, forcing himself to return to his usual stoic composure. “As well they should,” he said.

Anastasios hummed in agreement, then turned his eyes back to the fight. But he was hardly done speaking with Leon, saying, “In the old days, I think steel and magic would’ve been the first resorts of those in my position, but these days, we try to work our differences out with words as much as we can. We don’t take half-measures, but we strive to ensure that when we must take more drastic measures, it’s because the situation demands them.”

With a nod, Leon asked, “When were these ‘old days’?”

“Before my time,” Anastasios replied. “The wars with the Sacred Golden Empire fifty thousand years ago. The unification of this Empire ten thousand years before that. The expulsion of the Sky Devils twenty thousand years earlier.”

Leon felt more than saw the Lord Protector’s eyes sweep over toward him for just a moment as he spoke his last sentence, and it took a titanic effort for Leon to maintain the stoic façade that he’d desperately rebuilt. The attention of a tenth-tier mage was no light thing; it settled in around his shoulders and felt like it pressed him down into his chair for as long as the Lord Protector’s eyes remained upon him.

Vaguely, Leon was aware that the Watcher was losing out in his fight, being forced more and more on the defense as the Ilian pushed, more and more wounds marring the wine-skinned man’s otherwise perfect physique. The Watcher’s aura flickered and declined, his magic unable to keep up with the damage his body was taking; likewise, his body wasn’t healing nearly as quickly as it was, and his wounds lasted longer and longer. But even with his opponent weakening, the Ilian pushed hard and moved with purpose, striking with deadly accuracy. The fight was soon decided when the Ilian sliced through some of the muscles in the Watcher’s wrist, causing the man to drop his blade and collapse to the floor, his wound not closing.

The Ilian, however, didn’t stop moving, and Leon thought he would’ve killed the Watcher right there as he lay on the ground since no one seemed to be stopping the fight, but as he raised his blade and brought it crashing down on the Watcher’s supine form, the Lord Protector tapped his finger on the armrest of his chair, and the Ilian’s blade froze mid-swing, looking like all momentum simply vanished. To Leon’s magic senses, though, he could see the Lord Protector’s opaque power surround the Ilian combatant, and without even transforming into elemental magic, it seemed to exert physical force upon the Ilian, squeezing him into motionlessness.

The Watcher fell unconscious with the Ilian’s blade hovering only a few inches above his nose, and as if appearing from nowhere, several uniformed healers surrounded him, one of whom was seventh-tier. Her magic was so potent that only ten seconds later, the Watcher was back on his feet, looking grim, but not angry about his defeat.

There was some scattered polite applause, but no one got loud enough to make things embarrassing for the Forest Watchers, and the two combatants even clasped each other’s wrists once both were fully healed in a show of solidarity, and they set off toward the tables of food together.

Leon, however, just sat in his seat quietly impressed that the two could come so close to killing each other and yet just walk off practically as friends like that, but any good cheer he had built up in those last few moments of the fight vanished as he felt Anastasios’ gaze upon him again.

“We live in more civilized times,” the Lord Protector stated as gravely as Leon had ever heard anyone speak with such a wide smile on their face. “Blessed by the gods are we to live with such peace and prosperity; this has given us much better tools for dealing with our enemies than our forebears ever had. We rarely us force of arms as our first resort anymore. But that has not made us weak, or soft. We’ve never forgotten our roots, and if pressed, we will slaughter our enemies without mercy or hesitation.”

Anastasios stared at Leon for a long moment, his eyes narrowed, his aura towering, pressing down upon Leon, making him feel small and insignificant in a way that he’d never experienced from someone not trying to actively kill him. But then it was all gone like it had never been there in the first place, with Anastasios giving Leon the widest, friendliest, most welcoming smile that his face seemed capable of giving and still seeming genuine. The pressure that seemed to accompany Anastasios’ gaze lightened considerably, and Leon felt like he could breathe again.

With the fight over, everyone rose from their seats, and Leon did what was expected of him: he thanked Anastasios for the invitation to sit with him, and the Lord Protector graciously denied that any favor had been rendered. Then, the Lord Protector went back to making the rounds, welcoming people into the palace, while Leon returned to Elise. The two reunited with his retainers and the rest of the Heaven’s Eye cadre and ducked out as soon as they could. Fortunately, as representatives of Heaven’s Eye, they weren’t expected to stay too long, and none of them wanted to stick around in Ilion’s Imperial Palace for too long when Occulara, and the Director of Heaven’s Eye, were so close. Cristina and those members of her retinue stayed a while longer, with their carriage remaining behind to ferry them back to the guest house once they were ready to leave.

But Leon wasn’t going to wait around with Anastasios in the same room—besides it wasn’t like Cristina really needed him there. He felt like the Lord Protector had been almost looking for a reason to kill him, and if he had his way, after they left Ilion, he wouldn’t be returning for a long time.

—

“He knows who you are?” Valeria asked with deep concern etched across her face.

Leon slowly lowered himself into a chair around the hearth, so exhausted and his mind so taxed with worry that he couldn’t appreciate the luxury that surrounded him. “Yes,” he said, no doubt at all in his mind that he was wrong.

“And he just let you go?” Valeria wondered more than asked. “Why would he do that?”

“I don’t think it’s quite accurate to say that he’s ‘just letting me go’,” Leon whispered.

Elise agreed, saying, “We should get used to the idea that the Ilian Empire will be keeping an eye on us from here on out.”

Maia visibly bristled at that statement, but remained characteristically taciturn. In fact, aside from a muttered curse from Valeria, all four of them fell into momentary silence.

Leon broke it first, quietly saying, “I’m Leon Raime. Not Ursus. Raime. I’m not going back. I can’t.”

Elise smiled at him and said comfortingly, “No one’s asking you to. Hells, if you tried, I think I’d have to give you a good whack to the head to try and get your brain working properly!”

Leon looked to his wife, and her playfully intense smile spread to him.

“You’re Leon Raime,” Elise whispered as she slithered into his lap. “I love you, and I don’t want you to be anyone else.”

From behind, Valeria wrapped her arms around his neck. “Same here,” she said, and no more.

Maia said the least, merely taking one of Leon’s hands and entwining her fingers around his.

Leon’s smile grew wider, and he leaned back into Valeria’s embrace as Maia hugged his arm tighter and Elise snuggled up against his chest.

This was his family, and they weren’t going anywhere. The attention of the Lord Protector was distressing, to be sure, but they weren’t going to run from this problem. They’d face it head on, and just as they had so many other obstacles, they would surmount this one, too.

With his ladies with him, Leon was certain in that beyond all doubt.

—

“So,” Leon said as he sat down with Helen and Anna in a small sitting room in the guest house, “what’s been going on with you two?”

“What do you mean?” Anna rather curtly asked.

“You’ve been quiet since the party yesterday, and I wanted to check up on you two,” Leon explained.

Anna looked just about ready to jump down his throat, but just as the indignity was spreading across her face, she paused and took a deep breath. “We’re… fine,” she quietly said as she took Helen’s hand. “Just some personal issues that we’re dealing with. Nothing imminent, nothing that’s going to cause you any problems.”

“Is it related to whatever the ambassador gave you last night?” Leon asked.

“You saw that?” Helen sniped, her eyes narrowing in anger.

Leon shrugged. “You two are my retainers. I try to keep an eye on all my people, especially when they draw the personal attention from important people, like the ambassador from one Empire to another.”

Helen almost replied, but Anna squeezed her hand and gave her a silencing glare. The green-haired woman then said, “I’m sorry, Leon, but this is a personal matter, and as you can see, it’s one that does have us a bit out of sorts.”

“I understand completely,” Leon responded. “But if the two of you need anything, I’m here for you. What would be the point of this arrangement if I wasn’t?”

“I… We appreciate it,” Anna said, a sad smile spreading across her face. Leon almost left there, with the assurances that he’d been given that this wasn’t an issue that necessarily needed solving, but after a quick glance to Helen, Anna continued. “It was just some news about… our parents…”

Leon cocked an eyebrow and sat back in his chair, silently waiting for Anna to continue, if she wanted to. Over the past few weeks, Leon hadn’t yet sat down and had a long discussions with Helen and Anna about their past and their family, but in some off-hand remarks, he had learned that their parents had died some time ago, and the two sisters were the only family they had left. He could understand her not wanting to talk about them with him when he was still barely more than a stranger, but if she was willing to, then he would listen.

After giving herself a bit of time to work herself up to it, Anna told Leon, “Our parents were killed by vampires. We don’t have any other family, so things were bad for a while after it happened. The vamps who did it were never caught.”

Leon nodded, respectfully averting his gaze for a few moments as Anna tried rubbing at her eye without quite making it seem like that was what she was doing. “I’m sorry to hear that,” Leon said. “Were there any possible clues as to who did it?”

Anna shook her head, and Helen whispered, “We only know that it was someone powerful. Our family lived in our country estate, mostly, but our mother worked for Heaven’s Eye. A bunch of vampires hidden in a cave somewhere afraid of entering civilization wouldn’t have… they wouldn’t have the nerve to… It had to have been someone powerful, someone who wasn’t afraid of Heaven’s Eye’s retaliation.”

Leon nodded again as he turned the issue over in his mind, instinctively trying to figure out some way to ‘solve’ this problem. “How did they know it was vampires, then?”

Anna answered with as clinical of a tone as she could muster, “Bite marks. Exsanguination. Signs of demonic magic.”

Leon cringed in response, quickly saying, “I’m sorry if I’m prying, I guess I just…”

He trailed off, not quite knowing what to say, but Anna just smiled and said, “Don’t worry, Leon. We’re not upset.” She gave Helen a quick look, the sisters seeming to communicate something without saying a word. “The reason I’m telling you all of this is because the ambassador shared with us the results of her investigation.”

Leon listened with rapt attention, remembering that Anna had told him that the ambassador had been a friend of her family’s.

As Anna paused for a moment, Helen interjected, growling, “And the result was a fat load of fuckin’ nothing!”

Anna’s smile twitched, and she responded, “Accurate. Very accurate statement. Anyway, Leon, we’re not looking for revenge. We just want to live as we see fit. And we’re alright, this investigation thing just picked at an old wound. But we’re alright.”

Leon smiled as comfortingly as he could. “I know what it’s like to lose a parent,” he said. “If the two of you need anything, don’t hesitate to ask. You’re my people now, and I won’t tolerate someone screwing with my people, no matter who they are.”

“Thanks, Leon,” Anna replied, a sad smile now gracing her lips. “We don’t need anything, but thanks for listening.”

“Anytime.”

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