The Storm King

The Snow Lions made one hell of an impression upon their unexpected appearance, but not even five minutes after they placed their banners upon the banner platform, perhaps the only thing that could distract the rest of the trainees from the new arrivals happened: their issued shields arrived.

From the Administration Building came forty horse-drawn carts on air plates—wooden tablets with robust, high-quality air enchantments that lifted the carts about three or four feet into the air, making them trivial for the horses to pull. These air plates were a similar concept to the air rune that Artorias had carved into his fur sled, but far more refined.

Within the carts were the shields the trainees were waiting for, the final piece of standard equipment that every person in the Royal Legions was issued. Unlike the defective enchantment-less armor they had received earlier in the cycle that wouldn’t stop a battle-ready weapon and barely did the job blocking their training weapons, these shields were the real deal. The shields were rectangular and long enough to cover an average man from shoulder to knee and wide enough to slightly curve around the body. They were primarily made of thick wood planks, but their front was a quarter inch layer of steel and painted a deep crimson.

On the inside of every shield was an enchantment carved with an ingenious fractal pattern that made the shield both sturdy and reliable. The shield’s true strength, however, was shown when used in conjunction with other shields. The fractal enchantments carved into them would connect with and amplify each other, turning even the smallest Legion unit into a mobile fortress once they had gotten into a shield wall.

The issued armor for the Royal Legions was strong but not of unusual quality for a nation as powerful as the Bull Kingdom. Similarly, their weapons and even cavalry weren’t anything special. But with these shields, no one in the Legion would ever stand alone, linked as they were through their shield’s enchantments. It would not be hyperbole to say that the Bull Kingdom had been built upon the strength of these shields.

When Leon was passed his shield, he found himself captivated by the enchantment, to the point of completely ignoring everything else around him. It took a nudge from Castor to bring Leon back to reality and follow the rest of the unit to their practice area.

“Take this. You reviewed the calls for each formation, right?” asked the Senior Instructor to Castor after handing him a whistle.

“Yes, Sir,” Castor answered.

“Good. Then let’s get started. Form everyone up into a standard battle line.”

Castor immediately whistled three times in quick succession, causing the Snow Lions to spring into action. There was a little confusion as the trainees weren’t used to handling their brand-new shields, but they got into their lines in short order. Castor and Leon were in their place at the front and Alphonsus watched the back. None of them had to say anything to the trainees as they had done some informal practice the week before to make sure the unit could form up at a moment’s notice.

“Keep going!” shouted the Senior Instructor once the Snow Lions had gotten into place.

Castor whistled again, this time two short blasts and one long blast.

“Shields up!” shouted Leon and Alphonsus in response. The entire unit raised their shields forming a long shield wall. With their enchantments helping to stabilize them, even the weaker first-tier mages appeared formidable despite the weight of their shields.

But appearances can be deceiving. The Senior Instructor made a subtle hand gesture behind him and the two other Instructors sprinted forward and threw themselves against the points where the shield wall was weakest: right in the middle of the first-tier trainees on the front line. They grabbed, kicked, and shoved at the shield wall, even ripping the shield away from a few overwhelmed first-tier trainees, utterly shattering the formation.

“That was a miserable showing!” shouted the Senior Instructor. “Get yourselves back into formation!”

Castor immediately blew his whistle three times again, with both Leon and Alphonsus shouting at the Snow Lions to get back into their shield wall.

“Brace yourselves this time!” Leon added.

“Make sure to channel your magic into your shields! Let the enchantments connect and overlap with the shields to your right and left!” Alphonsus shouted further.

It took the Snow Lions a few seconds to get back into formation, but the Instructors didn’t give them the time they needed to solidify their position. They charged again at the shield wall before every shield enchantment had been activated, causing the formation to crumble again.

“These are only two men! They may be fourth-tier mages, but your shields should be able to resist their charge with ease if you form up properly!” The Senior Instructor made a great show of scowling at the Snow Lions picking themselves up off the ground. “Again!” he shouted as the other two Instructors pulled back.

“Get back on your feet!” Leon shouted. Alphonsus and Castor added their voices to his, which along with a few whistles from Castor, galvanized the Snow Lions into getting back to their feet and into their formation.

And they just barely got back into line when the Instructors charged again, throwing themselves against the shield wall and knocking back the Snow Lions who tried to hold firm. It didn’t matter that the line was five men deep, it still broke apart with almost a dozen Snow Lions on each side falling to the ground like dominos.

This pattern repeated itself another half dozen times, with the Snow Lions failing to hold their shield wall. That being said, they managed to reform quicker every time. Leon could see that while that was important, not breaking formation at all was the far better outcome.

So, he was happy to see that after having had their fun with the inexperienced Snow Lions, the Instructors stopped gleefully tearing apart their formation and started to instruct their trainees in the proper stances for those in the back to support those at the front, and to allow their shield enchantments to connect with each other.

When the time for morning training was over, the Snow Lions joined the other units in the dining hall for lunch. Afterward, though, they returned to the training field to continue practicing forming and moving in the shield wall. Leon was the only exception, as he refused to miss a single enchantment class even though it left the Snow Lions down a third-tier trainee. They were able to compensate by having Leon’s spot taken by Obellius, one of the unit’s more promising second-tier trainees and de facto second in command for Leon’s squad.

A few hours later, Leon returned from his enchantment class and took his position again, which was also the same time that the Instructors once more took to shattering the Snow Lions’ formation after having given them some time to fix their problems. Of course, that one day of practice wasn’t enough and the Instructors had little trouble getting through the shield wall, but there had been some noticeable improvement.

By the end of the week, the Instructors found that it was much harder to break through the Snow Lions’ formation than it had been. Those five days of hard training had clearly not been wasted on the Lions, as they had become proficient enough to maintain their formation even in the face of the fourth-tier Instructors. This stood in stark contrast to the rest of the units, as without the same amount of time spent training, they struggled to do the same.

In the following weeks, the Instructors had them incorporate their fighting techniques into this training as well, mostly consisting of shield bashes and stabbing with their arming swords. Leon had a small amount of trouble with this given that his longsword wasn’t particularly suited for fighting in as confined a space as the shield wall, but he was able to make it work.

By the third week, the Instructors were having them shift their lines. Essentially, the front line would only fight for about five minutes, at which point the second rank would push past them and take their place as the front line, while those in the first rank would retreat all the way to the back. Five minutes later, the third rank would push forward and take over as the front line, letting the second rank fall back just as the first had done. This pattern of brief bursts of fighting, punctuated by much longer stretches of rest, would help the unit pace itself and keep the trainees in the front lines always at the top of their game.

A month of hard training flew by like this, and the Snow Lions almost lived and breathed this one formation. But finally, the Instructors finally began to teach the trainees other formations they would need.

---

Two months passed, and the Snow Lions trained and drilled with almost every waking breath. Archery, personal combat, and especially fighting in their formations, they drilled and trained and drilled and trained until these things started to become second-nature.

It was hardly eventful in the rest of the Academy during this time, with all the other units falling back into the old routine of probing other units’ strength, constantly testing each other to see if any of them left an opening for another unit to steal a banner.

There were a few other major assaults on towers during these months, but none targeted or perpetrated by the Snow Lions. Under Leon and Castor, they were content to sit on their two banners and watch the rest of the units, biding their time and training for the FTX, the month-long ‘war’ that would be waged amongst all the units that would serve as the last test of their skills. The other units kept an eye on the Snow Lions, and even sent a few probing attacks at their tower, but the Snow Lions kept their discipline, determined as they were not to lose their banner again.

None of the other units attacked their tower in this time, though there was one moment where things could’ve gone terribly for the Snow Lions, a moment when Leon was almost ambushed, leaving the rest of the unit vulnerable.

It happened during a rainstorm—the first one that affected him as deeply as the one that had him uncontrollably running into the mountains. There had been a little rain during these two months, but nothing that compelled Leon to head out into the mountains again until he felt the familiar itch in the back of his skull one late afternoon. He’d made his excuses with Castor and left the tower, but he kept his head enough this time to realize he was being followed after leaving.

In the end, he had to lose a small group of four trainees from the Obsidian Cataphracts, and two from the Steel Century before he could relax enough to revel in the storm, and when he returned to the tower, he noticed quite a few more scouts checking the place out. Scouts that, for the most part, promptly vanished back into the forest as soon as he returned.

---

Leon was nervous as all the hells as he made his way to the Heaven’s Eye Tower. Visiting Elise at the tower was the only reason he left the Knight Academy during the past two months, but those meet-ups were fairly short, with the two of them catching up with each other and just spending some time in each other’s company.

This time was going to be a little different. This time, they were going to a series of games in the capital’s arena on something that strongly resembled a date, and Leon couldn’t be happier about it. However, they wouldn’t be alone: Valeria and Asiya would be joining them, and that gave Leon no small amount of anxiety.

He and Valeria hadn’t spoken much since her reveal that she was connected to Adrianos Isynos. The knowledge that she was related in some way to those who’d orchestrated the death of his father, and potentially the fall of his House, had him full of anger and sadness, each emotion working to paralyze him when it came to how to deal with her. So, he acted mostly out of inertia, treating her about the same as he had before the reveal.

But it wasn’t until he and Elise decided to go out with Valeria and Asiya that he finally managed to decide on a strategy for dealing with Valeria: he’d maintain the status quo as much as he was able. He’d try not to grow too close with her, but he’d also try and maintain what relationship they had with each other. When he was stronger, he might be able to use that connection to find who was responsible for the attack on his home in the Northern Vales, and it was a little foolish, he thought, to throw that connection away just because he’d learned her last name. If he did destroy their relationship, it might even only serve to arouse her suspicion, and his enemies learning where he was the last thing he wanted.

When he arrived at the Heaven’s Eye Tower, he found that he was the last to arrive; Asiya and Valeria had evidently hurried over as soon as they were dismissed that morning, whereas he took his time getting ready. Now, all three ladies were waiting for him in the ground floor lounge.

Asiya saw him first. She sprang out of their private booth and hurried over to him waving enthusiastically.

“You’re finally here!” she happily exclaimed.

Valeria’s greeting consisted of only a single nod, but it was obvious that she was happy to see him from the smile on her lips.

Elise, too, didn’t say anything, choosing to instead wrap her arms around Leon’s neck in a loose hug. And she refused to let go until he returned the hug, impishly smiling at him until he did so.

When they let go of each other, Elise wore a smile of victory and satisfaction, but that quickly turned to something a little more business-like. “We should probably get moving. Thanks to someone, we might be late.”

Leon smiled awkwardly at his own late arrival and the group left the Tower. Their destination was the arena in the northern part of the city. It was a monstrously large construct, easily seating over one hundred thousand people. The stands were held aloft by colossal marble arches, beneath which were hundreds of shops selling everything from cheap food and souvenirs to high-end clothing and expensive jewelry. People from every class of society would attend the games showcased in the arena, thus there were shops that catered to those with means as well as to those without.

Their reserved seats were in one of the many private boxes that ringed the arena, separated from the rest of the spectators by thick walls and plenty of privacy wards so that people couldn’t listen into their conversation. If they wanted, they could even project a black screen so they couldn’t be seen in the box. The interior was luxurious, with several cushy seats, a fully-stocked bar, all the snacks they could want, and an attendant just outside ready to fetch anything else they might want.

The group took their seats to watch the opening games which had already started, but while there were enough seats for all of them to have one of their own, Elise decided to sit with Leon, squeezing herself in beside him. The chairs were just large enough for the two of them to sit comfortably, if intimately, and Elise got even more intimate by giving Leon a radiant smile and leaning in closer to him.

“Mind if I sit here? It just looked so comfortable…” she breathed, gazing into his bashful eyes.

“N-No…” he responded after taking a few breaths to calm his racing heart, causing both Elise and the watching Asiya to giggle. Valeria seemed like she wasn’t watching, but the ghost of a smile appeared on her lips, and her eyes repeatedly flickered in their direction.

Fortunately for Leon’s dignity, Elise didn’t continue to flirt, and all four of them were able to turn their attention to the day’s opening games.

The opening games were a series of chariot races between the four professional teams in the capital, the Whites, Reds, Blues, and Greens. Elise favored the Reds and ecstatically hugged Leon when they won the first race. The Reds essentially stopped participating afterward, though, leisurely riding around the outside of the track with the Whites just ahead of them. It seemed to Leon that the Reds and Whites had only shown up for the race in the most token way, almost as if they thought themselves above these races. These two teams left the rest of the day’s races to be decided between the Blues and Greens.

“What’s up with these teams?” Leon asked Elise. “Why aren’t they trying anymore?”

“The Reds and Whites are favored amongst the nobility. The Blues and Greens are the common teams. This event was organized by a merchant for the common people, so the noble teams don’t care about it after winning the first race.”

Leon frowned at their attitude, while Elise, when it became clear that no further questions were going to come from Leon, turned to Asiya and struck up a conversation about what she and Valeria had been doing during the past few weeks.

While the ladies were chatting, Leon found himself becoming fascinated with the races, despite the Reds and Whites barely participating. The Blue and Green charioteers didn’t conduct themselves with anything resembling sportsmanship, loudly insulting and swearing at their rivals. They would even try to ram into and destroy the other chariots if it seemed like they were going to be passed.

“I wonder if your whore mother fucked a turtle to make you!” Leon heard a Blue shout as he passed a Green. “That might explain both your lacking speed and your degrading color!”

The furious Green shouted back, “Well you’d certainly know about whores! I heard you’ve sold yourself so many times that you have to plug your loosened asshole to keep from leaking!” He pulled on the reins of his horses, moving his chariot a little to the right, seemingly giving way to the advancing Blue. As the Blue started passing him, the Green turned back left hard, crashing into the back of the Blue’s chariot and knocking one of his wheels loose, tossing the Blue off his chariot and high into the air.

“VICTORY! VICTORY! VICTORY!” chanted the Green fans as the Green passed the finish line in first place. The Blue fans were none too happy to see their guy injured and his chariot destroyed, and there was some pushback against the celebrating Greens to the point of several small fights breaking out in the more densely packed sections of the arena.

“This place is certainly… lively…” Leon muttered as he saw several of the fighting Greens and Blues struggle to continue their fight even as the arena’s security guards swarmed over them and dragged them away.

“It’s like this at every game,” Elise said, her conversation with Asiya pausing after hearing Leon speak. “The chariot teams are serious business here. Insulting another person’s favorite team is a sure way to start a fight.”

“I guess I won’t say anything about the Reds, then,” Leon said with a faint smile.

“You’d better not,” Elise said back with a sinister chuckle and an ominous look in her eyes.

When the races were over, the real games—gladiator fights—began, and Leon couldn’t hide his fascination. He’d momentarily considered becoming a gladiator after his father’s death, and even now, he had to admit that the prospect of becoming a professional sports fighter held some appeal.

He intently watched as the first gladiators took to the sand, playing to the crowd and loudly extolling the virtues of the merchant who’d arranged the day’s games. Both gladiators were very lightly armored, with only a helmet and weapon apiece. They didn’t even have shirts, letting the entire arena drink in their perfectly built bodies. One of them was shorter, leaner, and faster, while the other was a slow hulk of a man. Neither was of the fifth-tier or higher, so they weren’t able to show off any elemental magic, but they made up for the lack of spectacle by expertly playing to the crowd. The hurled insults at each other, and many of the moves in the first half of their fight boiled down to knocking the other man down then raising their arms to call the roar of the watching masses.

After several minutes, Leon noticed something odd. At first, the crowd seemed to favor both men. However, the smaller gladiator had managed to endear himself to the crowd better than the other gladiator, with flashier moves and a sharper tongue. The people made more noise when it seemed like he was winning, and when it became clear that they wanted him to win, that’s when the fight turned in his favor. The bigger man seemed to slow down and allow the smaller man to knock him to the ground. He left more openings for the smaller gladiator to exploit and seemed, in Leon’s eyes at least, to throw the fight.

“These fights,” Leon asked, turning to Elise, “are they rigged?”

Elise smiled at him and helpfully explained, “There’s no need to pay attention to these first matches, the crowd decides the victor. All except maybe the last two or three fights are done solely to please the people.”

Leon frowned. He’d heard a few things about gladiators from Artorias, but he’d never heard about that. Then again, he figured that his father probably wouldn’t really remember the opening fights as he’d have been too busy talking with his friends just as Elise, Asiya, and Valeria were doing.

So, Leon turned away from the arena profoundly disappointed. The ladies had moved on from talking about the Knight Academy to talking about a play they had seen the week before that Leon couldn’t be less interested in, so he ended up zoning out for a while.

But, two hours after they had arrived, the preliminary fights were over and it was time for the first of the two main events.

Leon only returned to reality after noticing that the ladies had stopped talking and were staring down into the arena with such expectant looks that Leon couldn’t help but stare as well.

“And now,” shouted the announcer, “here after more than thirty consecutive wins, we have the Golden Man returning from his latest victory in Teira! The Archon of the Arena himself! Antonius Agrippa!”

With these words, the single most beautiful man Leon had ever seen entered the arena. He walked with such grace that he almost seemed to glide across the arena’s sand. His hair and eyes were a brilliant shining gold, as was his spear and plate armor. Upon reaching the center of the arena, he slowly turned to survey the crowd, striking several heroic poses and enjoying every deafening cheer he received—and he received many, from every corner of the stands.

Antonius was so beautiful that even Leon felt himself slightly captivated and felt the urge to join everyone else and cheer for the Golden Man’s victory, despite knowing nothing about his opponent. It wasn’t until he felt Elise next to him inching forward in their seat to get a clearer look at Antonius with a dreamy look on her face that Leon snapped out of the trance. In that instant, any good feeling he had for the gladiator disappeared like heat around an ice wraith. His sword arm instinctively twitched toward the blade at his hip, which Elise noticed as it was the arm she’d taken hold of and was unconsciously gripping even tighter after Antonius’ entrance.

“Oh my,” she said with a smile, “are you getting jealous, Leon?”

Her words drew the attention of Asiya and Valeria, who turned to look at Leon. Valeria was as stoic as usual, but Asiya burst into a fit of giggles.

Elise, meanwhile, pressed herself against Leon’s arm and whispered into his ear, “You don’t have to worry about that pretty boy. He has a nice face, but I prefer the man I’m with right now…”

Her words, whispered so close to his ear that he could feel her breath, caused Leon’s heart to skip a beat, and he had to bite the inside of his cheek to maintain anything that resembled dignity. But despite his efforts, a smile still spread across his face. “Careful there,” he replied with as much composure as he could summon, “my ego’s fragile. Best not to play with it like this…”

“Who’s playing?” Elise asked as she leaned in closer, Antonius down in the arena apparently forgotten—at least, until the announcer continued with the introductions.

“Facing our reigning champion is a man who many of you know! He fought and lost to Antonius five years ago and is now here for his revenge! Ladies and gentlemen, I present one of our brightest rising stars, Themistocles Aurelianus!”

From the other side of the arena came a man who seemed like Antonius’ polar opposite. He was clad in spiky black armor and wielded a shield and short sword. The crowd’s reaction to him was far more mixed compared to the near-rapturous response given to Antonius, though still positive on the whole.

The two bantered back and forth for a while, but Leon hardly listened. He was far more captivated by the woman on his arm, and he almost hoped that the gladiators would banter for a while longer, giving him much more time to be with her.

He found himself leaning closer to her, his fingers brushing against hers. Seemingly without hesitation, Elise took his hand, entwining her fingers with his, and when he looked at her, he found her looking right back, the brightest smile on her face that he’d ever seen. He smiled back, all thoughts of gladiators and arena games completely driven from his mind.