Chapter 437: Leon's Campaign IV

Three days.

Leon scowled as he stared out into the dark forests of the Southern Territories. It had been three days since their ambush, and they’d not heard a word from August.

Even worse, after that ambush, the human contingent of the unit was down to two thousand, and that was including those who’d been injured and since healed. Leon knew that Octavian scouts were out in force scouring the woods looking for them and with only two thousand his chances of leading another successful ambush were slim, even with the giants. A few scouts he might be able to pick off but given that they had proven themselves willing to burn down the forest to get at him, it was risky to try.

All of this meant that for the past three days, Leon and his unit had mostly been sitting around in their underground camp waiting around—their scouts being the only exceptions—and that wasn’t something that Leon was entirely comfortable doing in these circumstances.

So, now he stood just outside the entrance to the camp, his invisibility ring activated, staring out into the dark unsure of what to do now.

Rather, he knew what he wanted to do and he knew what he needed to do, but he couldn’t decide which to choose.

He wanted to use his invisibility and the few spells he’d made in his downtime to go and wreak some havoc within the Octavian lines. It was incredibly reckless and risky, but it wasn’t anything he hadn’t done before, and he had confidence in his skills and experience.

But he needed to wait for communication from August. Acting on his initiative was one thing, but he had to admit that Marcus was right when he brought up the fact that without support from the main army, still under siege in their fortified camp, then he wasn’t going to be able to do very much to the Octavian forces alone.

It was maddening, and he felt his heart race and his hands shake every time he thought about it. His enemy was right in front of him! He had to do something, and training so far hadn’t cut it. In fact, there was something about the very idea of training that seemed to repulse him, and he couldn’t honestly put his finger on it. He just… didn’t want to. It wasn’t that simple, but Leon couldn’t justify it any other way.

Leon stood out there, leaning against a tree, thinking for what seemed like an eternity. It was the middle of the night, so he didn’t have anything else to do other than think, but he couldn’t come up with anything that could reasonably solve his problems.

And eventually, he simply lost patience. ‘Fuck it,’ he thought in frustration as he scowled and turned around and strode back into the camp, letting his invisibility drop for the benefit of the guards watching the entrance.

Without breaking stride, Leon made his way over to the hallway where Marcus, Alcander, and the Barons all had rooms in the center of their camp. Walking directly to Marcus’ stone door, Leon hammered on it thrice.

He heard a surprised groan from within. It was roughly midnight, so he knew he was waking Marcus up, but he felt like he needed to do so right now. Likewise, he loudly knocked on Alcander’s door, waking the young nobleman from slumber.

“… eh… the **?” said Alcander’s muffled voice from his room, and not a moment later, Marcus’ door cracked open.

“Sir… Leon…?” Marcus asked, blearily blinking in the dim light of the hallway.

“Sir Aeneas,” Leon formally responded, “I have some work for you and Sir Alcander. We should get moving.”

Marcus opened the door a little further, revealing his bare chest and extremely confused expression. “What’s… going on…?” he inquired, still obviously waking himself up.

“I’m not explaining multiple times, just get dressed and meet me outside,” Leon said, glancing at Alcander’s door as it opened to ensure that he got the message, too.

“Hang on…” Alcander drowsily sputtered as Leon turned back down the hallway, “why…?”

“Just do it quickly, I’d rather not burn any more moonlight than we already have,” Leon said over his shoulder as he walked back toward the camp entrance.

Marcus and Alcander could only stare at each other in complete bewilderment. It was obvious from the lack of hustle and bustle and Leon’s demeanor that they weren’t under attack, but neither had any idea what was going on.

But after a moment, Marcus shrugged and said, “Let’s at least see what’s going on.”

Alcander was a little grumpier, but he agreed. “Right… I think I’ll bring my full kit, just in case…”

“Good idea.”

Ten minutes later, Marcus and Alcander, both fully dressed, armed, and armored, found Leon and Anzu just outside the entrance waiting for them. Unlike them, however, Leon was dressed a little differently, clad in what seemed to be leather armor covered in runes rather than his black Magmic Steel armor. Also notable was that Anzu was fully saddled and stretching his wings.

“So, Leon, what’s up?” Marcus asked as he and Alcander stepped out from the camp, the curious eyes of the guards boring holes into the back of their heads.

“We’re going for a little flight over to Prince August’s camp,” Leon answered, his tone completely nonchalant as if Marcus had just asked after the weather.

“What?” Marcus flatly replied. “Wait, what?! No, no, no, if we do that and we’re seen, we’re likely to be shot down!”

“Yeah…” Alcander murmured as he stared warily at Anzu’s saddle. “I, uh… don’t do so well with heights, especially when my feet aren’t on the ground…”

Ignoring Alcander’s comment, Leon said, “Won’t be a problem.” He gestured upward to the mostly overcast sky. “We’ve got plenty of cloud cover, and they won’t be looking up. And their defensive wards won’t be too much of an issue, either, we’ll be flying very high.”

“If we’re still seen…” Marcus began protesting only for Leon to cut him off.

“We’ll be well out of range for arrows. Magic might be a problem, but like I said, we’re not going to get close. We’re not attacking them, we’re flying right over. Now get on, let’s go.”

“Have you told anyone about this?” Marcus asked.

“Valeria and Alix know, but we’ll be back hopefully before anyone wakes up. Or, at least, I’ll be back. We’ll have to see if the Prince and Marquis Aeneas let the two of you come with me.”

Still, Marcus and Alcander hesitated.

Leon rolled his eyes but kept his tone civil as he said, “I get that you’re nervous about it, but we’ll be fine. Now get on.”

As he finished, Anzu turned his head and glared at Marcus and Alcander as if he wanted nothing more than to claw out their eyes and rip out their throats. Naturally, this didn’t inspire much confidence in either noble, but with one more glance in Leon’s direction, they both took a few steps toward the albino griffin.

Reaching out his hand to grasp Anzu’s saddle, Marcus said, “I’m putting my life in your hands… please don’t get me killed…”

Leon wasn’t sure who Marcus was talking to, him or Anzu, but he responded anyway.

“Anzu will steer you true. He likes new people about as much as I do, but he’ll behave.”

“I hope you’re right…” Alcander muttered as Marcus hauled himself up into Anzu’s saddle. The larger nobleman then followed, pulling himself up right behind Marcus.

Anzu looked less than thrilled, but he bore both with ease.

It took a few moments for Alcander and Marcus to get properly strapped in—which did nothing to quell Alcander’s anxiety—and once they were done, Leon said, “You’re good to go, neither will fall off. So let’s get moving!”

He then channeled his magic power into his leather armor, causing the runes to momentarily glow with a dull grey light. Alcander and Marcus had been too distracted to ask, so when a huge gust of air suddenly enveloped Leon and lifted him into the air—buffeting the two in the process so much that if they hadn’t been strapped into Anzu’s saddle, they would’ve been thrown off—they were shocked speechless.

Leon took a second to steady himself in the air and bask in their surprise, then he took off straight upward. Anzu followed but a moment later, raising himself up onto his hind legs until Marcus and Alcander were parallel with the ground, then flapping his wings and sending himself and his passengers rocketing into the air.

“SSHIIIIIIIIT!” Alcander couldn’t help but scream, and while Marcus remained quiet, he was echoing Alcander’s outburst in his mind as the ground fell away from them. Leon cringed a bit at how loud Alcander was, but he couldn’t blame the nobleman given just how terrified he appeared to be. Since he didn’t make any more outbursts, Leon didn’t make a big deal out of it.

Together, the group of four climbed into the air, barely visible in the dark by mortal standards. A mage stronger than second-tier would’ve been able to see them if they were paying attention, but they climbed quickly and soon vanished into the clouds.

That in itself proved more than a bit problematic, for the clouds left them drenched and cold. Leon didn’t feel the cool too much, but it clearly made Marcus uncomfortable, for Leon could see him shivering. Alcander, meanwhile, was too focused on not losing his dinner to care about being a bit wet and chilly.

For his part, Anzu didn’t care. The water slid right off his fur and feathers, which were both too thick for him to feel cold even that high up.

Hidden above the clouds, Leon’s small group proceeded south. Leon had to dive below a couple of times to confirm their position, and they made a beeline for August’s camp.

It was a rough flight for Marcus and Alcander, having never been so high before. They could certainly jump quite high with their third-tier power, but this was on a whole other level.

Leon, however, enjoyed flying so high and so fast in ways that he could not properly articulate. It felt so freeing, so right to be in the sky without relying upon anything else’s power. Flying with Anzu was satisfying, to be sure, but knowing that he could fly without his griffin made the experience so much more intense.

The wind in his hair, the ground so far below; flipping, spinning, and cartwheeling through the air; Leon couldn’t get enough. His heart raced, his face was split in half with an unabashed smile, and all he could think about was that he never wanted to let his feet touch the ground again.

But that was unfeasible. The flight was over far too quickly, and before Leon knew it, they had reached August’s camp—or, more accurately, about a thousand feet above the camp.

They had flown straight over all the Octavian defenses, for flight was such a rare power that no Bull Kingdom soldier or warrior would ever think to defend against it, and to do so was so magically expensive that most wouldn’t bother even if it did occur to them. Most enchantments preventing going over walls only extended a few hundred feet into the air so that the most powerful mages couldn’t leap over the walls, and that was it.

“Down we go!” Leon called out to Anzu, and both he and the griffin dove through the air, passing through the clouds like falling stars. It was all Marcus and Alcander could do to hold on and not scream themselves hoarse.

The group landed in a large open space near the center of the camp, likely a place for most of the leadership and their retainers to gather. It was surrounded by hastily constructed and architecturally boring stone structures that served as quarters for the army’s high leadership and their staff, so when Leon pulled out of his dive and prepared for landing, his propulsion boots kicking up a huge dust cloud as he did so, a loud alarm went off and guards began pouring out of these structures.

Leon landed without much ceremony, though, and Anzu gracefully touched down right beside him. A moment later, all four of them were surrounded by spears and shouting guards.

Leon was panting a bit from the exertion of powering his flight suit while Anzu glared at the guards. Marcus looked a bit sheepish and raised his hands in a nonthreatening gesture. Alcander, however, was so out of it that he barely realized where he was, and he struggled to undo his straps. It took him a moment, but as soon as the straps had been undone—in direct violation of what several guards had been screaming at him to do—Alcander fell out of the saddle, landing on his hands and knees, and started vomiting into the grass.

This didn’t calm the guards down any, and they continued to shout and scream often contradictory orders at the quartet, while a few started lightly poking Anzu and Leon with their spears to get them to comply.

“I am—” Leon began trying to explain, but he was immediately cut off as five different fifth-tier mages only screamed louder, trying to assert their authority over him and the entire situation.

“CALM YOURSELVES!” Marcus suddenly shouted, and Leon almost thought it would work, but it only angered the guards even more, and they continued shouting for him to shut his mouth and remain where he was.

It wasn’t until the relatively deep and authoritative voice of Roland was heard that any of them stopped with their incessant shouting.

“What is going on here?!”

“Sir Roland!” Leon called out as the guards went silent.

“Sir Leon?” Roland asked in surprise as he pushed through the circle of guards. “It is you!” he exclaimed in joy, rushing forward to offer his hand to Leon. Leon hesitated a moment, but he clasped Roland’s wrist in greeting. “It’s good to see you! Oh, and all of you…” he turned his gaze on the guards, his aura and unhappy expression causing them all to wilt slightly, “… return to your posts! This is Leon Ursus, the Thunder Knight! The White Griffin!”