Editing Tales of Leo Attiel:Volume2 Chapter6 (section)

===Part 2===


Percy Leegan had the feeling that he had heard a gunshot behind him, and he turned to look back while on horseback.

He immediately brought his attention back to what was in front, however, and continued eastwards.

Percy was, of course, acting on Leo Attiel’s orders. Speaking of Leo, and although this hardly needs repeating at this point, he was the only one in Atall who intended to fight Allion. It is also an established fact that, compared to Allion, his military force was pitiful. Therefore, the reinforcements from Dytiann, which, taking the long-term view, was a country that was far more likely to prove dangerous to Allion than Atall was, should have been something of a godsend for Leo and his group at this time.

Yet Dytiann’s ship had been caught in a surprise attack, and Claude was the one commanding that offensive.

Percy, however, did not get his horse to slow down. ''This'' was all according to plan. And ''this'' was one of the things that Camus, the warrior monk from Conscon Temple, had so strongly objected to when Leo had confided his plans to them all.

When Percy had first heard it, he had not been able to repress a shudder. According to Leo:

“We will deliberately guide the reinforcements from Dytiann close to Sir Claude’s territory, and we will have him defeat them. Oh, and we need to tell him about it beforehand.”

“The important thing here is to make use of the fact that Dytiann trespassed onto Allion’s territory, and to manufacture the reality that Sir Claude defeated this ‘unexpected foreign enemy’ before they had time to do anything.”

With that, Claude Anglatt would become a hero who had protected Allion. At the same time, it would throw cold water over Dytiann’s enthusiasm, given that they were hoping to reap all the benefits without running any risk of injury to themselves.

“We’ll approach Sir Claude with the offer of leaving him that accomplishment,” Leo continued.

It was only natural that Camus should have objected. He had no kind feelings for Dytiann – that too has been said repeatedly. Nevertheless, pulling Dytiann in by pretending to be their allies while actually plotting to stab them in the back was something that he simply could not approve of.

Moreover, there was one other plan on top of that one that Camus was furiously opposed to.

One that went against loyalty. That went against justice. That went against God’s teachings.

Camus had boldly held forth on justice, exactly as though he was standing in for God in person, but when Leo had stood before him and demanded that Camus kill him, when he had gone as far as taking his own life hostage, he had gotten Camus to submit to the plan.

''No'', thought Percy Leegan as he rode his horse, ''back then, it wasn’t His Highness Leo Attiel that Camus was fighting. It was probably himself. The confrontation between the two of them was the embodiment of Camus’ inner conflict, as he was stuck between his god’s teachings and reality.''

Although Camus was noticeably rough and wild in appearance, speech and conduct, his heart was actually delicate and easily wounded – although they had only been together a few months, Percy could tell that much about Camus.

In these past few months, Camus too had been through a number of experiences. Perhaps, if he had been the same as when Percy had first met him, he would have killed the prince – or, even if he hadn’t gone that far, he would have thrust those slender shoulders aside and would have run from the room, even at the risk of being injured, and afterwards, he would have made his way back alone to the temple, to die a heroic death.

– The teachings he followed were his ideal. Yet concrete ‘power’ was needed to put those teachings into practice. ‘Power’ to prevent one from being destroyed, from being denied, from being erased from this world.

Although Percy was not aware of it, Camus had constantly been caught up in that dilemma.

He had fallen to his knees in tears, and had consented to the plan. To defend his comrades and his god’s teachings, he had agreed to knowingly carry out actions that went against every one of his precepts. Back then, just how much pain had accompanied Camus’ decision?

Percy Leegan was completely unaware of it.

As he thought back to Camus while riding along right then, it was, in all honesty, a form of mental escape. It was, after all, Percy himself who had offered to guide Dytiann’s ship.

He had to ensure that Dytiann continued to believe that Atall as a whole had accepted their reinforcements. Although the House of Leegan, to which Percy belonged, was not particularly famous, it was nonetheless a family that had served as retainers to Atall for many generations. It was not without prestige. On top of that, it was a fact that he himself had gone to aid Conscon Temple. Just for that alone, Arthur Causebulk had trusted Percy.

''Arthur, huh?''

Just like Camus, Percy could not conceal his disgust for Dytiann’s current actions – but he did not hold any hatred towards Arthur himself. Although he had felt a previously unknown intimidation from him, Arthur seemed young for twenty-seven, and his smile was utterly guileless. In short, while it was true that Arthur was someone who would harm Atall, he was not particularly villainous and, as Percy continued his journey, he was conscious of a weight pressing down on his chest.

It wasn’t just Arthur. Every one of those soldiers was the same. There were even those that he had talked with on friendly terms. Young soldiers who had told him that ‘this is my first time going to the front,” and who had listened attentively to Percy’s stories about the fighting around Conscon Temple, as though anxious not to miss a single word. Percy could sympathise to an almost painful degree with their need to encourage themselves by hearing about the experiences of those who had already gone to war, and with their fervent anxiety about whether they would be able to achieve success, or whether they would simply die miserably.

Turning his back to where the massacre was taking place, Percy urged his horse onwards.

The sun was climbing in the sky.




At around the same time, five hundred of Allion’s soldiers swarmed up the mountain paths, guided by the spy.

The row of armour weaved its way upwards, looking like it was sewing stitches between the small groves of trees. Two turns before the main temple gates, they took a sidepath. Ahead of them, a hole opened up in the cliff.

It seemed that the faithful and the priests had spent several years burrowing into a natural cave. It was mainly used by the priests for meditation, but on the temple’s festival days, they sometimes held masses there which laymen could also attend.

By passing this way, they would apparently be taking a shortcut to the shrine on the summit.

The assault by Allion’s troops on the other side of the mountain was no doubt holding the attention of the warrior monks, since there was not a single one of them to be seen. Although the soldiers had made this detour just to be sure, there seemed to be barely anyone left at the main temple gates.

Allion’s side could tell that, ''everything is going according to plan.''

In reality, however, they were the ones moving “according to plan.”

The one who had originally drafted these measures was Percy Leegan. This was before he had even met Lord Leo. When he had still been fighting at the temple and had thought of attacking the enemy headquarters, and before leaving to do so, he had imparted a plan to those of his men who would be remaining on the mountain.

They had made use of an enemy spy called Kenny. He was originally a marauder, and it was immediately obvious from his behaviour that he was also an agent working for Allion. The other side was probably using him because his clumsy actions were sure to attract attention, and so allow the other spies to move about more easily. Percy, however, deliberately pretended not to notice him, and had one of his subordinates approach Kenny.

Claiming that he himself was also a spy for Allion, the man fed Kenny false information and helped him escape from the mountain. This had all happened immediately after Allion had advised the temple to surrender. There was no doubt that they were planning an all-out assault, and Percy believed that if, on top of that, they received information that “the rear of the mountain is full of openings,” then they would definitely jump at the bait.

Percy had put these measures in place so that after enticing a large part of the enemy troops out from their headquarters, he and his men would be able to strike at their very heart. They had failed temporarily because of the unforeseen situation surrounding Lord Leo’s escape, and the mountain hunt that Allion had conducted because of it, yet these measures were still valid. 

While Hayden, the commander, was away, Allion had still continued to sporadically send out soldiers in frontal attacks; their aim was probably to make sure that the temple’s gun batteries maintained fixed positions. Which also ensured that the unguarded gaps at the back of the mountain still remained, and which meant that they were certainly intending to attack from the rear at some point. Having realised as much, Percy suggested to Leo that they once more put his measures into practice, and Leo had agreed.

Allion was caught in the trap.

At the mouth of the cave, Allion’s soldiers reorganised their long line of troops. Their cheeks were flushed from anticipation at the savagery they would be enacting from there on. There was, after all, no greater joy than to trample triumphantly over an opponent defeated in war.

However, in their surroundings and at the top of the steep cliff, warrior monks were silently lying in ambush. Camus was acting as the linchpin; stifling his breathing, he watched what the enemy was doing while waiting impatiently for the moment to give the order. As soon as he raised his voice, the warrior monks would all rise as one to shoot their arrows and bullets; being literally caught off guard, Allion’s side would naturally escape into the cave.

But the story that there was a shortcut to the temple through the cave was a complete lie. They would immediately run into a wall. The monks would charge in after Allion’s soldiers, who would no longer be able to either advance or retreat.

That was the plan.

Having arrived at the steep cliff, the spy who had guided Allion – and who was, of course, a soldier employed by the Leegan family – softly started to make his escape. The soldiers who were exchanging ribald smiles were supposed to meet with the same fate as the troops from Dytiann immediately afterwards.

However –

“Oi,” a captain leading the troops called out to the spy. The man started and stopped.

Ever since the current king had taken the throne, Allion had been plunged into one war after another. And this captain had plenty of combat experience. Here, in front of the cave, some kind of instinct for danger had probably alerted him.

“I’ll give you a few men. Go run around the other side of the cave, just to be sure,” he ordered.

“Ay… n-no, but… if, by any chance, we were spotted by any of the warrior monks, it might compromise the surprise attack…”

“Doesn’t matter. Even if they do figure it out, the attack will still happen. And speaking of any chance, it’s more important to make sure there aren’t enemies lurking around.”

Concealed within the long grass, Camus watched the scene from a distance. Although he could not hear what was being said, a torch was pressed into the hands of the soldier who was pretending to be a spy, and some of Allion’s soldiers gathered to the side, so he could roughly guess the gist of it.

Camus was forced into a decision. If they found out that the cave was a dead end, then the plan would obviously fall through.

Should it be said that neither Percy nor Leo were able to anticipate such small, on-the-spot problems? They had wrongly assumed that the soldiers convinced of their victory would neglect to be cautious. This was the difference between theory and experience.

Still, the temple side, which had received the pair’s plan without working on the details, had also been inadequate and overly optimistic.

Seeing that the spy was hesitating, the Allian captain grew increasingly suspicious. He called up soldiers from the various platoons, and was preparing to give them the order to search the surroundings.

They could not wait any longer.

''Damn!'' His eyebrows bristling like flames, Camus leapt to his feet.

“Shoot!”

“Disperse!”

Between him and the Allian captain, which one gave their order the fastest?

A storm of arrows and gunfire rained down on Allion’s soldiers. Screams and shrieks surged and got jumbled together, just as they had around Dytiann’s ship. It did not last for long however. The explosive show of force had sent Allion’s troops scattering in every direction, and from their various locations, they started returning fire with arrows and bullets of their own.

Camus clicked his tongue in annoyance. The events unfolding were clearly different from the plan. Even worse, because the temple did not have proper supplies, their bullets were already about to run out. They had been prepared to use their last remaining amunition to carry out this scheme, but the in the end, less than thirty enemy soldiers had been killed in the surprise attack.

Allion’s group was five hundred strong. Once they realised that the enemy no longer had any bullets, the situation was reversed, and they started pressing forward, swords and spears in hand, while those of their comrades who were armed with guns provided covering fire for them.

On the temple side, even while they continued to shoot with bow and arrows, the group armed with spears had rushed forward, making the first move.

The one nimbly running in the lead was Camus. With a single thrust of his spear, he sent the helmeted head of an Allian soldier flying. After which, he thrust again. A soldier who was jabbed through the neck jerkily fell back before collapsing. He was aiming for the captain through this series of surprise attacks but Allion wouldn’t simply let him do as he pleased.

Swords swung towards him in counterattack. As he repelled their blades with his spear, he shouted out at the top of his lungs,

“Push forward, push forward!”

''There’s no other choice'', he thought.

The only chance they would ever have was now, when the enemy was still getting their formations ready. They would push forward with numbers and momentum. Push, and push, and overwhelm them. Even if they couldn’t get the enemy to fear for their lives, their momentum would at least give them trouble…

''There will be needless losses on their side. They need time to ready their formations.''

Even a momentary weakness would be enough; then, Allion’s side would flee into the cave. If they could secure the entrance and exit, they would at least be able to gain time.
[[Image: Leo_Attiel_Den_v02_249.png|thumb]]

But gaining time was also what Camus and his group wanted to achieve.

The cave itself was a dead end, but from where they were, there were any number of ways to reach the summit. If they allowed Allion’s side to win here, then, just as Allion had planned, the temple would be caught in a pincer attack. Which was why they had to stop the enemy at all cost. If only Allion’s soldiers would escape into the cave, then they could restrain the location of the fighting to just the entrance, and Allion would not be able to make use of its numerical superiority.

And that was why they would push forward. Could only push forward.

Camus took the lead, brandishing his spear and encouraging his brethren. A wild and furious god, different from the one that he believed in, seemed to have completely seized hold of his body. The Allian soldiers who stood before him were far more experienced at war than he was, yet most of them were ready to run.

Responding to Camus’ impetus, the other monks lined up on either side of him, offering up prayers as they did so. Now that friend and foe were so close together, using firearms was no longer possible. Steel collided against steel as sparks flew.

Allion’s soldiers were on the verge of being overpowered by the force of momentum.

Compared to the warrior monks, who were determined to die here, they did not have the same deep attachment to this place. They had never expected the fighting to devolve into this kind of melee, and they were starting to lose their nerve.

“Withdraw,” the captain shouted. “For now, withdraw to the cave!”

''Thank Heaven'', Camus smiled.

He jabbed spear downwards towards an enemy soldier. He didn’t even know how many it had been anymore.

But at that moment, an intense shock ran across his thigh.

''Huh?''

He had repelled a sword which was swinging towards his face. The pain had come right after that.

Looking down, his right thigh had been cut, and blood was flowing. The still boyish face of the enemy soldier who had injured Camus’ leg could be seen from beneath his helmet.

“I’m called Randius!” He gave his name in a clear, sonorous voice.

''Who the hell cares?'' Camus aimed to drive his spear straight into the youth’s throat, but he was easily parried.

“I pity you because of your youth. But even though I pity you, that had nothing to do with mercy. The best I can offer is having my spear finish you off in one go,” said Camus, then thrust his spear in attack once more.

But it missed again as his opponent lunged close. Camus hurriedly pulled back his spear to block the sword’s blade. It turned into a test of strength, but Camus, whose leg had been cut, could not use it to brace himself. In a complete reversal of what had happened earlier, he was now being pushed back through brute strength.

“Fool!” Camus yelled at the enemy who was so close to him. “Do you not understand God’s compassion? Resisting it just means that you will be thrown into the fires of hell as kindling. Make the sign of the cross before you die! If you do, even a dragon might pass through the eye of a needle, and the Gates of Heaven might open for you.”

As he was the one being pushed back, Camus’ words did not sound sane. And in fact, he was not in his right mind. Just a while earlier, his way of fighting had been fiercely terrifying. He had actually felt as though God had descended into his body to meet out justice.

Yet even for Camus, surpassing the abilities of a normal human in the way he had done took an extreme toll on his body and mind. And now that his momentum had been stopped, he was forced into awareness of his exhaustion and his injuries, and was being pushed back by an opponent who looked like a child.

Even so, Camus gritted his teeth and exerted all of his strength, but when Randius bent diagonally and Camus’ leg moved to follow him, Randius swept his own leg to knock him off balance.

Camus tumbled onto his back.

Randius raised his sword.

''What?''

Camus was almost light-headed as looked up at the sword. ''Now?'' he wondered. Did God want his life ''now''?

No sooner had he thought that, than Randius staggered back with a jerk. His right shoulder guard had been blown off.

It had been hit by a bullet. The impact was too much for Randius’ posture, and he fell backwards.

When Camus instinctively looked back, he saw a smoking gun muzzle close by. And the one holding it was Sarah. He didn’t remember having his little sister join their unit, so it looked like she had decided to take part in the surprise attack entirely on her own. She had just fired the last remaining bullet.

“Ugh!”

Sending a look to his sister that expressed neither gratitude nor anger, Camus used his spear like a cane and lifted himself up to his feet. Dragging one leg behind him, he raced to where his comrades were still fighting bravely.