Editing Tales of Leo Attiel:Volume2 Chapter4 (section)

===Part 4===


“W-What?” Camus blinked in confusion.

Leo stared straight into his eyes.

“I revealed my whole plan to you. Since you object to it, I cannot allow you to leave. But having said that, I can’t kill the protector who saved my life, either.”

“T-That’s ridiculous. Do you think I’m the kind of man who would spread word around? I won’t tell anyone. So…”

“No. I can’t put this plan into effect without everyone’s approval. I absolutely need all of you to lend me your help. So if you’re saying that you can’t endorse the plan – since it means following the same fate anyway – I would rather you killed me here and now.”

“W-What are you talking about? You’re probably thinking I won’t do it. How like a noble, with your exaggerated play-acting to make you look…”

“Kill me, Camus.”

Leo took another step forward. The downturned blade pressed against his neck. Even when Camus hurriedly tried to step back, Leo followed after him.

Camus’ back hit the wall. And Leo still continued to advance.

''Bah'' – Seething with irritation, Camus tried to forcefully tear the blade away from Leo. Camus was by far the stronger of the two, but Leo was desperate. He firmly planted his legs on the ground and put his strength into his shoulders. The tip of the curved blade grazed his cheek and ear, swiftly opening a red line along its path, from which thick drops of blood started to trickle down.

Even Camus’ blood ran cold and he stopped moving.

“Prince!” Several voices overlapped.

“Show me, Camus,” Leo, on the other hand, spoke quietly. “I’ve already shown you my resolve. Now it’s your turn to prove your determination. If you have enough determination to cut me down here and now, to be chased out of Atall and yet still head towards the temple to die a brilliant death, then prove it to me.”

“P-Prince, stop,” Camus groaned as Leo took yet another step forward. The tip of the sword was now at the nape of the prince's neck.

“It would be one thing if you were the only one to die. But what does defeat mean in this case? It means this country will fall, the temple will go up in flames and countless people will face death and destruction. If you claim that you’re willing to bear that responsibility, then prove that your resolve is greater than mine, O Monk,” said Leo.

Percy could no longer utter a sound as he watched this scene unfold. It was then that he noticed that the two who were facing off so closely had something in common. 

Camus was gritting his teeth and looked as though he was in the middle of enacting a fight to the death, but he was, at heart, a very honest man. While his emotions were raging, what lay under the surface was easy to see: showing beneath his expression was a vulnerability – a sense of inferiority, so to speak – born from the fact that he could not offer a straight rebuttal or counterargument to the prince’s plan.

Then, there was Lord Leo Attiel. His usually gentle countenance had changed entirely, and he looked close to anger. Yet if one looked closely, his eyes which were supposed to be glaring sharply, and his lips which were supposed to be set firmly were all trembling ever so slightly.

In terms of their positions, their opinions and the road they were following, the two were completely different. It was as if those very differences were what had caused them to clash with each other. And yet –

''Their positions and their opinions are different, but at the very least, the inner conflict that they both feel is probably the same. They can clearly see the road they're going to follow. They're also prepared for the need for sacrifices to be able to take a step along it. And they're probably a lot alike in how they biterly regret that they can't pay the price of sacrifice alone'', thought Percy.

It occurred to him that it wasn't limited to those two, and that there was a part of him that also overlapped with them.
''Oh, I'' get ''it.''

With that thought, a light suddenly flickered within his mind.

''There was another scene like this... When Lord Leo said that he was going to 'defeat Darren so as to fight Allion', Camus' response at the time...''

Percy had felt that those two might one day cause calamity to befall Atall. He had felt impatient. It would not have been surprising if he himself , exactly like Camus was right now, had outright opposed the prince and stood before him.

Yet back then, for some reason, Percy has not given vent to his emotions.

What he now ''got'' was what that reason had been.

Percy stood up and stepped towards the two of them.

Camus' eyes turned towards him; drenched in sweat, the monk seemed to be pleading for help.

“Get the prince away from me, Percy. I'll never tell anyone what I saw and heard here. True, we haven't known each other long, but you must know me enough to believe me when I say that. So let me go!”

Leo's eyes also looked towards Percy. Both their gazes were definitely alike.

Percy got so close to the two of them that he could feel their breath. And from there, he did something completely different from what Camus had hoped and Leo had expected.

He clapped them both on the shoulders. “Interesting,” he added, as he did so.

“What is?” Camus glared, his face covered in sweat. The anger he had been directing at Leo now seemed to be turned at full force against Percy.

Who remained undaunted.

“Don't you think so, Camus? Or actually, you might have thought it more than once. Back then, you know. Back on Mount Conscon, when were giving our all in a fight that we couldn't see the end of, and I suggested attacking Allion's headquarters. Thinking about it now, that was a really reckless, and foolish, and childish suggestion, huh? Well, no, there's no 'thinking about it now' about it. We already knew it back then. Me, you, Kuon, Sarah – everyone understood it. But... everyone thought it sounded interesting, right? Better to do something outrageous than to gradually let ourselves be driven into a corner. Rather than sit around waiting to be killed, better to give our lives of our own free will.”

On either side of the blade, Camus and Leo's gazes were now turned solely towards Percy. Kuon and Sarah were the same.

“And it was the same when you, Prince, Camus, were agreeing excitedly about going to defeat Darren's soldiers. I should have stopped you. Deliberately inviting internal conflict when the country was in danger was simply too stupid. I should have objected clearly, just like Camus is now. But... I couldn't do it. You understand, don't you Camus? Back then, you probably went along with the prince because you were thinking the same thing. Yep – that it was 'interesting'.”
Percy smiled without even realising it. Although he had felt danger emanating from the prince until just a few moments ago, Percy was now in a position akin to that of supporting the prince as he walked along a narrow tightrope. Or perhaps it was better to say that he would advance with him, ready to cross the rope together.

''Anything’s fine, I don’t mind.''

He could perceive his own true feelings. He could tell what he should do, and what he wanted to do. What could be more joyful for a young man?

“I hit the bull’s eye, didn’t I, Camus? True, we haven’t known each other long, but I least know you well enough for that. Yeah. ‘Interesting’. I thought so again too. This is Lord Leo, who flew over the predictions made by the sovereign-prince and the vassal-lords, and who was going to stand alone against Allion. No matter how far it went off the beaten track, no matter how ludicrous it seemed, you thought that was far more ‘interesting’ than not doing anything, and just waiting for some change to happen in a situation that was created by someone else.”

At some point, Percy’s hands had extended towards Camus and the prince’s shoulders, and gradually started forcing the two apart.

Percy then abruptly asked Camus a question.

“Camus, what do you fight for?”

“W-What do you mean, ‘what’? At this point, ‘what’… that’s,” while Camus’ tongue was getting itself tangled up, Percy substituted in his own words.

“To win,” he finished the sentence. “I also want to fight to win. I want to bet my life believing that victory is  within reach. I have no wish to fight if victory is impossible; if I died in that situation, it would just be dying in vain.”

Camus’ eyes were dark with anger. He breathed in, looking like he was about to give an immediate retort, yet his voice did not come out, and all he exhaled was a helpless sigh.

Percy did not miss that cue. He pushed hard on Camus and Leo’s shoulders, forcing them away from one another. As their entangled hands separated, there was the sound of the sword clattering to the floor. The noise was unexpectedly loud and, in response to it, a voice came from behind the door.

“Your Highness, is something wrong!” The soldier on sentry duty burst in.

He was still very young, and Percy remembered his red hair and freckled face.

“It’s nothing, Rhoda. We were just playing about a bit,” Lord Leo laughed and picked up the sword which had fallen to the ground, returning it to his waist.

The boy called Rhoda was one of the militiamen who had been recruited in one of the villages. Despite his gentle appearance, he proved to be quite skilled, so he was even made a commanding officer. Most of the farmers had returned to work in their villages until they received orders, but a few of them, Rhoda included, had been hired to help guard the castle’s surroundings.

It was obvious to any onlooker that he adored the prince who had changed his life. He gazed at him as he would a god. Although the red-haired boy wasn’t happy with it – he had heard angry voices coming from inside the room – since it was the prince’s command, he obediently withdrew. 

“Your Highness, the blood…”

When Percy pointed it out, Leo brought his hand to his cheek. His skin had been slightly torn, and blood was oozing out from under it. He quickly wiped it away with his hand. 

That same hand was suddenly seized hold of by Camus. The gesture appeared insolent, but Leo said nothing. Camus bowed his head. He seemed to squeeze a few words out, but not even the nearby Percy could make out what they were.
Camus spoke once again, this time opening his mouth wide.

“You’re asking me to betray them,” he said. “The temple, the bishop, my native land… And my own future, I who had dedicated myself entirely to God.”

''His native land?'' Percy frowned. This was the first time that he had reason to guess that Camus might have been born in Dytiann.

“And you’re threatening me with the fact that if I don’t betray them, it’ll usher in even greater destruction.”

“…”

Camus kept his face turned down, without as much as looking at Leo, who was nodding silently, as he painfully bit out his next words.

“Victory.”

Then –

“Can you promise victory, boy?” he continued.

Percy was on the verge of reproving him for his insolence, but Leo answered without a moment’s hesitation.

“I promise.”

“You’re telling the truth, right?” Camus gripped his hand with all his strength. Leo’s expression became ever so slightly distorted. “I… I can’t take any more. I can’t run away a third time. I would rather die than run away again. But… like Percy said, it would probably just be a useless death. But, boy… To win… You say that there’s a way to win. There’s a way to finish this without having the true teachings and the righteous way of doing things be burned and smashed and destroyed?”

“Of course,” through the sound of bones cracking and crunching, Leo nodded with no change in his expression. “But in exchange, please lend me your help, all of you. I am powerless, so please give me your recklessness and your strength.”

''Who’s the reckless one here?'' Percy thought, but out loud, he answered with a clear “Aye,” and placed his hand over theirs.

Camus’ was shaking. Finally –

“In that case, I pledge this body of mine… no, I will even entrust you with my soul, Your Highness. Forgive my rudeness.” As he said that, he fell to his knees, completely drained of all strength. Since their hands were still clasped, it looked from the outside as though Camus was kneeling before Leo Attiel.

Percy felt stimulated, as though the warmth from the overlapping hands had entered into his bloodstream and was coursing through him.

“Come over, Kuon. Sarah,” he called out to the two who were half rising to their feet.

He took both their hands and placed them on top of the ones which were covering Lord Leo’s.

“It really is interesting. Don’t you think so, Camus? Kuon? Sarah? A ‘powerless’ prince is asking for help from us ‘reckless’ ones. And he says that even though nobody has ever heard of us, he can win against Allion with our assistance. Isn’t that interesting?”

As he uttered those words, Percy felt happy from the bottom of his heart. 



<noinclude>
{| border="1" cellpadding="5" cellspacing="0" style="margin: 1em 1em 1em 0; background: #f9f9f9; border: 1px #aaaaaa solid; padding: 0.2em; border-collapse: collapse;"
|-
| Back to [[Tales of Leo Attiel:Volume2_Chapter3|Chapter 3]]
| Return to [[Tales of Leo Attiel|Main Page]]
| Forward to [[Tales of Leo Attiel:Volume2_Chapter5|Chapter 5]]
|-
|}
</noinclude>