Editing Tales of Leo Attiel:Volume2 Chapter3 (section)

===Part 1===


Just as Leo had explained to Percy and the others, the construction of a church and the prince’s religious conversion were, for now, being kept hidden. The official reason was that “it’s best to wait for a good opportunity to advertise these facts.”

Sovereign-Prince Magrid looked sullen and grim again as he worried that the vassal-lords would once again denounce the way he ‘acted without taking advice’. However –

“Isn’t it fine to ostensibly be preparing a place to hold the wedding ceremony?” said Leo, looking unruffled. “First of all, it’s not even a lie. And then, it goes without saying that the vassal-lords fear Allion. If you emphasise the fact that we are holding the ceremony on a large scale in order to mend the relationship with Allion, they won’t utter a word of criticism.”

After obliquely conveying the information that Savan’s quarries had come under attack from marauders, Leo further added:

“Sir Savan is having to move soldiers away from defending the western border. Father, you should send some guards in your name as ruler… Oh no, it doesn’t need to be any great number. The point is simply to make it known that this is His Majesty’s edict,” he sounded out his father.

Sovereign-prince Magrid could not conceal his surprise at the way Leo was giving out opinions one after another. When he further insisted on taking command of those soldiers, Magrid stared fixedly at his son’s face. Still, since it was a purely nominal position, he gave his permission. After all, once Leo got married and set up a family, he would need to provide him with a suitable territory, or perhaps with an official position within the palace. So it wasn’t a bad thing to have him undertake various tasks from here on.

“Up until I sent him to Allion, I thought he was such a quiet and docile son.” Magrid smiled wryly to his oldest son, Branton, after Leo had finished giving his opinion and left the room. “But why is it? It’s been nothing but surprises from him ever since the banquet.”

“Leo has obviously inherited the blood of the House of Attiel.”

“There’s that but… Seeing him change so much is a bit terrifying. Let’s hope the boy hasn’t received a bad education in Allion,” Magrid passed off his concern as a joke.

Leo Attiel was provided with soldiers from the Royal Guards, which were the military troops under the sovereign-prince’s direct command. All of them were of aristocratic lineage, but although they were all children of the nobility, most of them were second or youngest sons, who would inherit neither land nor title. Since Percy fulfilled that condition, and given also that he hoped to make his way through the military, his father had, as a matter of fact, recommended that he enlist into the Royal Guards.

However, as Percy explained to Leo, “I wanted to stand on the battlefield more than anything, and to earn glory through my own achievements.” And when the Royal Guards took to the battlefield, they were given very few opportunities to perform anything of merit.

Leo had been given twenty cavalrymen. Since each of these was accompanied by five retainers acting as infantrymen, the total number of troops came out at more than a hundred. Along with Leo and the familiar faces that were Percy, Kuon and Camus, the troops left the capital.

Given that it was a military departure involving the Royal Guards, Sarah was unable to join them this time. Camus had been worrying about how to persuade his tomboy little sister, but unexpectedly, she had readily backed down.

“Got it. It wouldn’t look good for a nun to be included when Lord Leo is leading military troops for the first time. I’ll behave myself. I’ve been able to make a few friends in Tiwana, so I won’t be bored.”

Leo’s group made it to the highway without any problems. As it was a military force, Leo was naturally wearing armour and a helmet. Although, since his build was not suited to massive armour, the equipment was light. It was the first time Leo had experienced arming himself and riding his horse forward, followed by soldiers. He turned to Camus, who was next to him and who was cautiously surveying their surroundings.

“Does it suit me, Camus?” he asked.

“Of course,” Camus nodded deeply. 

This large warrior monk already held certain hopes and expectations of Leo. The air drifting around him was like that of a warrior who would still be serving the prince ten years from now. 

“I’ll gallop on to survey what’s ahead,” he sprang his horse forward.

It had not even been an hour since they had left Tiwana. Besides which, it seemed unlikely that anyone was going to aim for the prince’s life on the well-maintained highway. Still, it seemed very much like him to be restless.

“That’s Camus, but what do you think, Kuon?” Leo turned towards the person who was riding on the other side of him.
Percy, who was behind them, stifled a chuckle at the sight of Kuon’s startled face. 

Among them, Kuon was the only one who was younger than Leo. Even though he had accompanied him several times already, he had never spoken with Leo directly up until then. Percy and Camus wanted to protect the country and the temple and, aware that the prince shared that desire, they could not help but feel a more than average interest in his actions, and hold certain hopes of him. On the other hand, Kuon, who had left his birthplace behind him, did not share that sense of purpose. Fundamentally, he couldn’t care less about what the prince was going to do, and on top of that, he had been under the impression from the very start that the prince couldn’t possibly be interested in a country-bred mercenary like him. Which was why the boy was so unexpectedly flustered when Leo spoke directly to him.

“E-Er, well, what Camus said… er, no, that which he said… is, er, correct…” he replied stutteringly.

Leo gave a soft laugh. His tone, however, was harsh.

“There was no conviction in those words. If you don’t speak honestly, I’ll have you punished.”

Kuon looked around him, searching for help, but Percy deliberately pretended not to notice.

“T-Then, if I have to say it honestly...”

“Hmm.”

“Y-You’re too skinny, Prince, so… it, really, doesn’t suit you… at all. There are women where I’m from, who fight with bows and guns, and t-they’re much… more masculine.”

“Go on.”

“You should… throw back, your shoulders more. And then, when you’re riding your horse, you should throw out your chest more, like a general, and put your chin up… then you’d look more like it.”

“L-Like this?”

“That’s too far. Your neck has to be straight and you have look ahead.”

In short, Leo was messing about. Even so, he felt considerable interest in the boy called Kuon. Percy had talked with the prince several times about the battles that had taken place around the temple, so he was curious about the characters who appeared in those tales.

When it came to Kuon, however, there were still many things that Percy did not know about him. Percy wished to protect his country, Camus and Sarah wanted to protect the temple; but then, for what purpose was Kuon fighting? If he merely wanted to earn his daily income, there should be plenty of other work available. And he did not seem to be the calculating sort, who would get close to the prince in the hopes that it would prove profitable for him later.

Regardless of whatever youthful thoughts they held, the party entered Savan’s fief a few days later. The vassal-lord's main castle simply took its name from the territory and was known as Guinbar Castle.

Savan came out in person to greet the prince’s party. Rumour seemed to have spread throughout the district that the second prince of the House of Attiel had come from Tiwana, so there was a crowd of people outside the citadel's walls, watching curiously and cheering in welcome.

“Tsk,” Percy easily guessed why Camus clicked his tongue with a glum expression. After all, even the sharp-eyed Kuon looked stunned.

Sarah, disguised as a town girl, was mixed in among the populace that were waving their hands. Looking amused, she blew a kiss towards Percy and her older brother, who had turned their gazes her way.



Now then, Leo was supposed to stay at Guinbar’s castle, but no sooner had he arrived than he gave Savan a strange order. 

“Please prepare five hundred sets of armour, spears and swords. I’d like them to be ready as quickly as possible.”

Savan was bewildered. When he asked the reason for needing them, Leo replied that it was:

“To enhance the prestige of the baptismal ceremony.”

Given that the church hadn’t even been built yet, Savan felt that he was really getting ahead of himself, but considering that Lord Leo was Guinbar’s lifeline, he could not refuse him. 

In parallel to that, Leo started travelling around the villages exactly as though he was inspecting his own territory. Percy, Kuon and the others escorted him to guard him. Incidentally, just like last time, Camus was following up on the connections between the few adherents of the Cross Faith to find builders with experience in constructing churches, so once they had reached Guinbar, he had immediately left castle again to go meet with them. 

When Leo found any solidly-built young men in the villages, he would send one of the soldiers or pages that Savan had put at his disposal and have them brought to him, with the words: “you’ve caught the prince’s eye. Won’t you come and listen to what he wishes to say to you?” 

While the youths' expressions went tense from suddenly being summoned before a nobleman, Leo asked them, “would you carry a spear for my sake?”

He explained that in order to confer dignity to his baptismal ceremony, he wished to be accompanied by five hundred young men in full armour. A small sum of money would also be paid out to them, so they unhesitatingly jumped at the offer.

The numbers increased in no time at all, and Percy Leegan, who was accompanying Leo, suggested sifting through them. He proposed that the criteria be that they had brothers, and that they were single. Upon hearing that, Leo simply said, “I see,” and lowered his eyes.

Even with Percy’s stipulated conditions, they somehow gathered together five hundred young men, and Leo had them summoned several times for Percy to teach them some basic military skills.

“Even though I told you that I simply need soldiers for the prestige, it would be a problem if you were simply there as ornaments. If you have the mettle to kill enemies with your spears, then that will come through even when you stand still, and make you look more impressive. On the other hand, if you don’t have that fighting spirit, it will be obvious that you’re complete amateurs, and you’ll become a laughing stock,” Leo argued to persuade the young men.

At first, Percy took on the role of instructor, but when they were given spears to hold, it became apparent that some of them already had some technique. Some of them had even had practical experience manning fortresses as soldiers, so once Leo and the others had identified those, they immediately promoted them to platoon leaders, and left them the task of organising and training their own units.

''A strange thing to do'', thought Savan, but he did not pay it any more attention than necessary. It was a truly childish way of thinking to want to demonstrate his own authority through a ceremony, but then, this was the prince who had advocated reorganising the army until he had been scolded by his own father. And it was equally indicative of childishness that he wanted to implement his ideals among his entourage, even if it was only on a very small scale.



When he learned that scores of stone-cutters and labourers had been sent to Guinbar’s craggy mountains, Darren was in the middle of entertaining himself, his compliant retainers, and his sons, with a hunt.

Hunting was an aristocratic pastime, which also served to temper and forge body and mind, and Darren was therefore proud that his domains boasted any number of good hunting grounds. The only thing that was unobtainable to him without buying it from another territory, however, was stone with which to build a castle. 

Which was why he had his eyes on Savan’s lands, to the west. Yet not only had Savan flatly refused Darren’s suggestion of shared ownership of the quarries, he had even attempted to appeal directly to the sovereign-prince. Fortunately, even the nobles who had long had dealings with Savan had no intention of getting themselves involved. And that included the sovereign-prince. As for Savan himself, it must have been truly vexing to be made to realise anew what the balance of power was like between Darren and him.

''You're a damned fool, Savan, to not know your own place. All you need to do is to keep pushing your old sack of bones to watch over the border.'' 

Darren and Savan were only about five years apart in age, but since Darren spent his days going out hunting, his skin had a healthy glow to it, and even though he was a little plump, he was in excellent physical condition compared to other men his age. Even now, he kept five mistresses.

He felt nothing but contempt for Savan Roux, yet no sooner had the latter returned to his territory than he had apparently sent crowds of people to the quarry. Darren was surprised for a second, but he soon started to laugh while wagging his fleshy neck.

“Ha, ha, ha. Harvesting the ‘crops’ before they get stolen? I don’t know if he wants to annoy me, but what’s he hoping to do, spending huge sums of money to stockpile stone he won’t be able to sell? Togo, you go and play with him.”

Togo was Darren’s oldest son. A grin spread across his plump face, which closely resembled his father’s. He was thirty years old, and, while officially serving as his father’s aide, he was the one who was secretly in charge of hiring marauders. Occasionally, he would ride out in person at the head of the soldiers, pretending to be a marauder and laying waste to Savan’s territory. At those times, to avoid letting his face be seen, he wore a mask that a master blacksmith at the castle had forged for him. He gloated proudly at the way the marauders referred to him as “Master Iron Mask”.

The next day, that man in an iron mask, accompanied by five vassals and about twenty marauders, forced their way into the quarry. Just as the reports had said, scaffolding had already been erected at the foot of the mountain, and huge numbers of workers were carving out stone. The mineral dust from the rocks drifted in the wind, and Togo grimaced behind his mask.

He had wanted to charge in immediately, but armed soldiers could be seen all over the quarry. No doubt the troops Savan had moved for guard duty. When they noticed them, they started shouting something and converging towards them.

Taking hold of his horse’s reins again, Togo decided to withdraw for the time being. Up until then, they had always pulled back from ravaging the quarry and surrounding villages whenever Savan sent out soldiers. They didn’t need to go out of their way to shed blood; it was enough to simply give him plenty of trouble. Besides, Guinbar did not have the means to permanently station soldiers either in the villages or in this quarry.

When Darren received the news from his son, however,

“Now that they’re in the middle of quarrying the stone, there are crowds of people around. Maybe they’re planning on having a few guards remain permanently.” He looked pensive for a while, then, “right, let’s bring things to a head. There won’t be that many enemies. Go take the fight to them.”

“Sure,” having removed the iron mask from his sweaty face, Togo grinned broadly.

“Once you’ve driven away the soldiers, don’t chase them too far. Keep watch on the surroundings for a while, just to make sure. If it looks like they’re coming back with increased numbers, do the same as usual and pull back. Seriously, don’t go overboard. I won’t close my eyes to it if you act like before and even attack the villages,” Darren didn’t forget to warn his son.

It would be easy to plunder by force of arms, but he was still, at least for the time being, a retainer to Sovereign-Prince Magrid. He had to maintain outward appearances.

The next morning, with thirty additional marauders beefing up the previous day’s line-up, Togo Actica headed towards the quarry.

He found it completely deserted. The armed guards, as well as the craftsmen and labourers who had been working away so busily had vanished. They investigated the huts which had been built for the workmen to sleep in, but these too were completely empty.

Togo had been hugely excited since that morning at the prospect of testing out on human opponents the skill he had long been polishing at hunting, but his targets had slipped from between his fingers.

“The hell, did they get scared because we showed up yesterday? They’re not worthy of being men from Atall;  Savan’s soldiers don’t even have an ounce of our guts.”

In retaliation for having his hopes betrayed, Togo burned down the huts and the scaffolding which had been set up at the foot of the mountain. He roamed around the surroundings on horseback for a while, but got tired of the colourless landscape, and took a rest at the only remaining hut by the mountain. 

“There isn’t even a bird or a beast to shoot.” 

Togo had taken off his iron mask to sulkily wipe the sweat off his face when one of the vassals whispered into his ear as he was bringing him tea.

“There was a village when I went down to the riverside. Although, even if I say a village, it was more of a small settlement for hunters who roam from one hunting base to another. Even if we attack it, your lord father wouldn’t mind.”

“You’d like it too,” despite putting on an unwilling expression, Togo continued, “it can’t be helped. Dispelling their retainers’ displeasure is part of the duty of those who stand above them. Grab a weapon, you lot. From here on, we’re going hunting. But our opponents are going to be hunters who are used to taking down game, so don’t be careless.”

Regaining his enthusiasm, he drained his tea in one gulp then once more put on the mask.

It was at that moment –

Arrows flew one after another into the hut’s immediate surroundings. One man, who was just stepping out of the doorway, had the tip of his boot pierced and leapt back with a shriek.

“W-What is this?”

Panicked, Togo peered out from the hunt and saw a group of riders appear from downhill. The armoured cavalrymen had their bows at the ready. There were about twenty of them perhaps.

Togo grabbed a pot which had been left abandoned in the hut, and while covering his head with it, he just managed to jump on his horse which was tied outside. The others did the same, crawling out from the building and catching hold of their weapons.

Togo’s group had checked their surroundings. Yet even so, like clouds drifting out of nowhere in a clear sky, the enemy had appeared and had probably been intending to corner them like this from the start.

As soon as Togo’s group took up their stance to counterattack, the arrows stopped. In their place, black clouds again came rolling into view, this time at the riders’ feet. It was a group of infantrymen, long-handled spears in hand.

“Get them!”

At someone’s command, they started to charge.

Although Togo held his breath for a second, the attack was not one to lose his nerve over. Even from a distance, he could tell that they were amateurs, who were simply wearing armour like they were the real thing.

''Poor Savan, were you so understaffed that you had to hire neighbouring peasants?'' Togo’s mood immediately lifted, and he smiled.

“Even if there are a lot of them, our opponents are just novices. Soldiers, go! I’ll pay you for every head you take.”

In response to his order, the marauders moved forward. They were, of course, very familiar with fighting, so it was sure to turn into a one-sided massacre. Carried by their momentum, they would attack on horseback from behind. With that intention in mind, Togo took the spear which was tied to his saddle.

Speaking of spears, the ones that group of foot soldiers were carrying had handles which were far too long. They were about twice the normal length; let alone peasants, even seasoned soldiers would have difficulty handling them. Which just made it all the clearer that they were rank amateurs. And yet –

''What?''

Togo could hardly believe his eyes. 

The foot soldiers were not using their weapons to jab and attack. In the first place, because of their spears’ length, it was impossible to inflict fatal injuries on their enemies with them, so they were using them simply to halt heir opponents’ charge. 

The tips moved vertically in a tight formation. They did not do so with any great vigour, yet even when Togo’s subordinate marauders caught them in their hands and easily turned them aside, because of the long handles, they did not have time to get close to the enemy. At that point, Togo noticed that there were men without spears mixed in among the foot soldiers. They were armed with short-bladed swords, the complete opposite of the spears which they easily slipped beneath, before diving towards the chests of the marauders, who were having so much trouble advancing, and landing clean blows on them. Several men fell.

“B-Bastards!”

When the marauders, who had been jabbing at air, concentrated their caution on the swordsmen, the tips of the spears once again swarmed towards them. When their attention was caught by those, they were again showered with blows from the short swords.

The movements had clearly been drilled into them. In terms of numbers, this bunch of amateurs was double Togo’s group. And thanks to the strange tactics they were using, they had gotten a head start on his subordinate soldiers, who were gradually being pushed back.

While Togo was becoming worried, one of the vassals spurred his horse forward.

“Young lord, this way!”

He too had no doubt decided that they were at a disadvantage and was looking to find an escape route while the marauders continued to fight. But even if they slipped past the group of infantrymen, there were still the twenty or so riders beyond them.

There was no choice but to force their way through them.

Just as Togo was making up his mind, there was once again movement among the enemy. A single cavalryman rode forward from among the group of riders.

He wore a helmet, and Togo had no way of knowing it, but this was the group’s commander, Leo Attiel.

He had deliberately set only a small number of soldiers to guard the place on the previous day. It was of course well within his expectations that Darren’s troops would attack today; therefore, after having the craftsmen leave, he and his group had concealed themselves in the mountainous terrain. In addition to the regular soldiers from the Royal Guard, Leo had also brought a part of the militia that he had previously gathered from the villages and had trained.

There would be actual combat. Since the young men from the villages had not at all expected to find themselves in that situation, there were many who absolutely refused to go, but Leo did not say a word of reproach to them, and he took only the hundred or so of them who decided for themselves to take part.

Fundamentally, just using the regular soldiers would have answered the purpose. In spite of this, Leo had purposefully brought them to a scene of genuine fighting. And just as purposefully, he had them stand them before Togo and his group, who had lost their path of retreat and who had no choice but to attack.

For Leo too, this was his first time in a real fight.

He had continued his martial training throughout his time in Allion. He had taken part in mock jousts. Yet when he saw blood flow for real, he was, unsurprisingly, unable to repress a shudder. 

''I-I’m going? Into that?''

The arms of a marauder was sent flying from a sword slash; the next moment, a peasant had his foot pierced. Simply from looking at it, he felt pain course through him at the same place. Simply from being on horseback, his breathing was as uneven as though somebody was strangling him by the neck. He wanted to scream out loud, “Stop, please! Save me!”

Leo clenched his teeth hard. No cry escaped from him and instead, it simply reverberated hollowly through his insides. He urged his horse another step forward.

“Your Highness!” Percy shouted, and he and Kuon – who sympathised with his reaction – were about to surround Leo from both sides when –

“Forward!” he spurred his horse onwards as though to leave his companions with nothing but empty air. 
[[Image: Leo_Attiel_Den_v02_117.png|thumb]]
Percy, Kuon and the riders of the Royal Guard hurriedly followed after him. Leading the way, Leo brandished his spear.

''If I’m not able to go first now, there’ll be nothing for me afterwards''.

The resolve he strengthened in that moment was no temporary thing. For the past few days, every time the sun went down, he had told himself that over and over again. That he had to do it; that this was a stage on which he had to demonstrate his own skill.

The enemy also urged their horses forward, although a little too late. Their figures were rapidly approaching. There was no longer either pain or suffocation. There was only the path on which a single second separated life from death, and the strength of spirit to run headlong across it.

He took aim and thrust his spear at an enemy. It grazed the mounted warrior’s breastplate. On the other hand, the enemy rider’s spear struck hard against Leo’s helmet. 

Just as Leo’s vision went black, a single point of light blazed within it, only to be scattered by the sound of horses’ hooves. The next rider was already approaching right up to him.



The fight ended in barely any time at all.

“Are you safe, Your Highness!” Percy came rushing.

“Yeah,” said Leo Attiel, removing his helmet. Blood was flowing from the area around his temple. Nevertheless, he had gotten away with an unexpectedly light injury.

The outcome of the battle was overwhelming victory. Upon being attacked by several dozen people, the marauders wavered then fled one after another. The group of riders had still held out, but the braves of the Royal Guard clustered around Leo. Percy’s handling of the spear had grown even sharper and faster after experiencing real combat, while Kuon compensated for his scrawny physique thanks to the innumerable ways of fighting retained in his muscle memory.

Coordination within the enemy cavalry broke apart while several men fell from their horses. As luck would have it, one of those was the man in the iron mask who was thought to be their commander. Kuon jumped from his horse without a moment’s delay. His speed in doing so was wholly characteristic of him.

“Don’t kill him!” 

In response to Percy’s shout, Kuon simply sat astride the man in the mask, his blade thrust against the man’s throat.

They had reaped splendid results from the battle.  

''Compared to them…'' Leo sighed in frustration as he wiped the blood from his temple. He had not been able to kill a single enemy. Quite the opposite: the spear attack from his second opponent had thrown Leo’s posture off balance, and he too had almost fallen from his horse. Mortification at his disappointing performance kept flooding through him.

“You were magnificent.” When Percy called out to him, the prince uncharacteristically raised his voice in anger.

“Stop with the flattery. I wasn’t even able to do anything.”

Percy smiled gently.

“Being the one leading the charge on your first campaign cannot have been easy.”

At Percy’s words, even Kuon – who had left the man in the iron mask to the royal guardsmen – chimed in.

“The vanguard rider’s job is to keep advancing until the end. And while he’s running through, the riders behind him spear the enemies who have broken posture because of him. That's obvious,” he said.

Percy made an eye signal at him.

“…er, is how it is, Your Highness,” Kuon mended his speech at the very last moment.

At that, Leo smiled despite himself. In a complete reversal from his earlier regret over his disappointing performance, he now experienced a sense of accomplishment and of satisfaction at having pulled off an outrageous feat that was completely unlike him.

“Also, when you, er, are unused to handling a spear, you should not, er, attempt to jab; it is... better to swing it to hit against them. When you thrust, you leave yourself, er, you leave openings. While you’re stabilising yourself in the saddle, like this, …”

While continuing with his faltering lecture, Kuon was probably thinking to himself that ''this prince is a menace''.

Percy burst out laughing.