When Leon presented the crossbow arrow, its length rivaling that of a short spear, Hilgard, the burly wizard, practically leaped forward in excitement.
"Let me see that!" he exclaimed, his eyes sparkling with curiosity. As he carefully peeled away the dried blood clinging to the arrow, he leaned in closer, studying the intricate runes and magical patterns etched into the shaft.
"Amazing!" he breathed, marveling at the craftsmanship. The more he examined it, the more his astonishment grew. It was clear to him that the maker possessed a profound mastery of ancient magical language.
"Only someone from Atias could create something like this," Hilgard declared, his voice filled with awe.
He momentarily set the rune-engraved crossbow aside and turned to Leon. "Sir Leon, would you consider selling this to me? To you, it may just be an arrow, but for my research, it holds immense value."
Leon's brow furrowed in surprise. Could this arrow really be so precious? Just moments ago, Miss Lola had scoffed at its worth, leading him to believe it was a mere tracking bolt.
"What exactly is Atias?" Leon asked, his curiosity piqued.
"Ah, Atias," Hilgard began, his tone shifting to one of gentle explanation. "It's a distant empire; no wonder you haven't heard of it. Located at the far eastern edge of the continent, it's said to have expanded to the very limits of the world. It's a land ruled entirely by spellcasters, where even the emperor and nobles are mages."
Hilgard raised the crossbow again, its weighty presence commanding attention. "This crossbow, enhanced with magical properties and engraved with the 'Lorelit Rune,' could only have been crafted by a wizard from Atias."
An empire governed by mages? The concept struck Leon like a thunderbolt. He felt as though he'd stumbled into a fantastical realm far removed from his life in Orland. Yet, it dawned on him that such a distant nation would likely remain irrelevant in his everyday existence, especially given the challenges of travel.
"What do you think? I can offer you twenty gold crowns for it," Hilgard proposed, his eyes gleaming with eagerness.
"Wait," Leon interrupted, holding up a hand. "Before I decide, could you take a look at this?" He pulled out a pendant from his waist bag, setting it on the table.
The pendant, shaped like an insect, was crystal clear and devoid of the vibrant red glow it had once possessed. Its short metal legs had retracted, giving it an almost lifeless appearance.
"Another magical item?" Hilgard raised an eyebrow in surprise.
"Yes, it's a trophy from when I defeated Baron Casolas," Leon replied, keeping Olivia's involvement a secret.
Hilgard picked up the pendant, scrutinizing it closely. There were no inscriptions to identify its origin, which left him puzzled. He closed his eyes, focusing his magical energy to test its properties.
Gradually, a crimson glow radiated from the gem, casting a warm halo within its clear confines. After a moment, Hilgard opened his eyes, his expression serious.
"This appears to be a device that stimulates life elements, but its magic is depleted. You would need to infuse it with a substantial amount of magical power for it to function again."
With a mix of hope and impatience, Leon couldn't resist asking, "Can you recharge it for me?"
Hilgard, busy adjusting his sleeves, sighed softly. "Recharging it isn't technically challenging, but my duties at Lord Trosa's side keep me tethered. There are always emergencies to attend to, and I can't divert too much energy to this task."
Leon, puzzled by the magic systems of this world, pressed on. "Could you not recharge it bit by bit each day?"
Casolas's encounter had left a strong impression on him, the man had nearly seemed invincible, enhanced by this very artifact. If Leon could harness even a fraction of that power, he'd have a significant advantage, something more reliable than relying solely on Miss Lola in emergencies.
"Recharging it gradually isn't out of the question," Hilgard conceded, scratching his beard thoughtfully. "However, I'd need to take it with me. I could work on it daily, depending on the demands of the battlefield. Expect it to take a month or two."
"That's acceptable," Leon replied eagerly, seeing the potential benefits as worth the wait. "What would that cost me? Would the crossbow arrow cover it, or would I owe more?"
Hilgard, examining the hefty arrow once more, decided, "Let's make a simple trade; the arrow for the recharging. Given the time involved and my fondness for your earnestness, I'll consider it even."
Relieved and grateful, Leon quickly posed another pressing question before Hilgard could depart. "Sir Hilgard, if I wanted to learn magic, where might I find a teacher?"
He was cautious not to overstep by asking Hilgard to teach him, especially since the wizard was committed to the front lines.
"Ah, your interest in magic is understandable, especially after your encounter with the spectral wizard in the Cursed Land," Hilgard acknowledged with a knowing look. "But learning magic isn't as straightforward as picking up a sword. It's not about diligence or intelligence; it's about inherent capability."
Leon listened intently as Hilgard continued, "Magic chooses its wielders. Across centuries, we've seen that magical ability is a rare gift, not tied to lineage or effort. Even children born to powerful mages don't necessarily inherit this gift."
"However," Hilgard added, his tone hinting at a broader perspective, "if you're determined, seeking out a mage who accepts apprentices could be your path. It's a journey that requires patience and perhaps a bit of luck."
Leon nodded, absorbing the weight of Hilgard's words, understanding the daunting path ahead if he chose to pursue the arcane arts.
Hilgard's brow furrowed as he discussed the complexities of magical inheritance. "There have been those among us who have pushed the boundaries of ethics, attempting to enhance magical talent through... less savory means. Yet, despite their efforts, there seems to be no guaranteed method to pass on magical abilities, even among offspring of powerful mages."
He sighed, a note of melancholy in his voice. "In Orland Kingdom, including those apprenticed at the Northern Academy, we count barely a hundred spellcasters. And if we speak of truly seasoned wizards within the Northern Warlock Society, the number dwindles to a mere dozen."
Leon listened, absorbing the stark realities of the magical world. Hilgard continued, "Magic requires not just a rare physical capability but also a mental and spiritual fortitude to manage its demands. Few possess such gifts."
Seeing Leon's lingering hope, Hilgard suggested an alternative. "If you're keen on harnessing the elements, why not explore alchemy? While it's not direct magic manipulation, alchemy allows you to interact with natural laws through the elements."
Leon, however, clung to a different thread of possibility. "But the spectral wizard in the Nightmare Forest told me I had the potential for magic."
"Did he now?" Hilgard's expression turned skeptical. "It's challenging to assess such things without the right tools. Our society has long relied on sophisticated magical devices to identify potential mages."
Yet, seeing the earnestness in Leon's eyes, Hilgard made an offer. "If you're serious, I'll write you a letter of introduction to Dean Petra at the Warlock Fortress in North County. After the war, perhaps I could even escort you there myself."
Leon's face lit up with gratitude. "Thank you, Lord Hilgard. I appreciate your faith in me." He rose and bowed deeply as a sign of respect.
Their business concluded, Hilgard gathered the crossbow arrow and the pendant, preparing to leave. Leon escorted him to the edge of the village, where Hilgard's warhorse was waiting.
"Please return safely. I'll have someone deliver your necklace once it's fully recharged," Hilgard promised, mounting his horse. With a light tap of his hammer, he conjured a swirling vortex of wind that kicked up dust and sand around them. His cloak billowed as the horse reared, ready to sprint.
Leon shielded his face from the fierce wind, peeking through his fingers in awe as Hilgard galloped away, his figure swiftly shrinking into the distance and vanishing over the hillside.
Amazed by the wizard's swift departure, Leon mused on the powerful magic that must be propelling Hilgard at such incredible speeds. Shaking off the dust, he turned back toward the village.
Just then, he noticed a group of soldiers from the Thorn Flower Family emerging, carrying shovels they had found, likely preparing for their next task. The sight anchored Leon back to the immediate needs of his community, even as his mind wandered to the possibilities that might lie ahead on his own potential path to magic.
As Leon observed the soldiers preparing to dig a mass grave on Baron Elifer's orders, he understood the urgency. It was a grim task, but necessary to prevent disease from the fallen Kantadar outside the village. Most soldiers, still buzzing from the recent enthronement ceremony, didn't recognize the newly knighted young men as their lords.
However, one warrior who had seen the ceremony spotted Leon. "Good day, Sir Leon," he called out, pulling his companion to attention. The rest of the soldiers, somewhat skeptically, followed his lead, greeting the youthful knight.
Leon strode past with a practiced air of calm, nodding respectfully. Only when he turned away did his face break into a grin of private triumph.
"Might as well enjoy the part," he thought, amused at his own lofty status among the village folk.
He made his way to Olivia's home, his steps light with newfound authority. The villagers, reassured by Baron Elifer's troops, were beginning to restore normalcy to their lives, confident in the protection provided. The soldiers, mindful of the watchful eyes of nobility, behaved impeccably.
Yawning, Leon longed to shed his armor and relax. He had donned it early in the day for a fitting and hadn't expected to wear it through such a whirlwind of events.
Upon entering, Leon spotted Hawke, a youth from the village, rigidly stationed outside the old blacksmith's room. Every time Leon had passed, Hawke stood guard like a sentinel. Curious, Leon queried, "Hawke, isn't it? What keeps you planted here?"
Hawke stuttered, "Uncle Brian asked me to make sure I stay put... I promised I wouldn't run off now."
From inside the room, Olivia's voice floated out, tinged with exasperation. As the door creaked open, she peeked out, her eyes scanning for Leon. "Are all the dignitaries gone?"
"Lord Elifer's staying the night, but General Trosa has left with his men," Leon answered, smiling back at her. He then glanced at Hawke. "May I speak with Olivia for a bit? Uncle Brian didn't say I couldn't come in."
"Uh, sure," Hawke muttered, stepping aside quickly and scurrying off.
Olivia beckoned Leon inside with a wave. As she shut the door, she smoothed her skirt and sat on the bed, her eyes alight with curiosity. "So, tell me everything that happened today," she urged.
Leon cleared his throat, recounting the day's events. Olivia's hands clenched as she heard about the near-clash with the griffins, and her brow furrowed in anger as Leon detailed Boris's slander and the village ruffians' secretive behavior.
"You can't trust anyone these days," she murmured, her indignation palpable.
Leon's recounting of the day's events drew Olivia to the edge of her seat, her eyes widening with every word. When he mentioned that the Baron had officially knighted them as members of the Thorn Flower Family, Olivia's reaction was a mixture of awe and disappointment.
"You're knights now? Lords of this land?" she gasped, her eyes sparkling with excitement.
She rose from her bed as if to celebrate but then slumped back down, a sigh escaping her lips. "Father is really something... I wish I could've seen it. It sounds like something straight out of the stories of old knights."
Her golden hair seemed to lose some of its luster as she lamented missing such a pivotal moment. Leon, seeing her downcast, tried to console her. "Uncle Brian was just being protective, don't be too hard on him."
Olivia bit her lip, still sorting through her feelings. "But you said the visiting nobles seemed honorable, right?"
Leon hesitated, remembering something crucial. "Didn't Uncle Brian tell you why he kept you hidden?"
Olivia looked up, puzzled. "Tell me what?"
"He was worried about you being noticed by the nobles, afraid they might take you away to the castle as... well, as a concubine." Leon watched her reaction closely.
Olivia's eyes widened in shock. "What? Did father really think that?"
"Yes, he did," Leon admitted, feeling a twinge of guilt. "And, Olivia, there's something else. The noble Casolas, whom you defeated; that victory was rightfully yours. We ended up receiving all the accolades in front of those nobles. Uncle Brian might say you don't mind, but we feel we owe you. We'll make it up to you with our future earnings."
Olivia's initial shock faded to a dismissive wave. "Don't be silly. You three are the heroes of Selva. Besides, if it weren't for your actions with the griffin, none of us might be here right now."
Then, her mood lightening, she stood again, this time with a playful gleam in her eye. She advanced a few steps, theatrically grabbed the hem of her skirt, and dipped into an exaggerated curtsy. "Greetings, honorable Lord Leon. I trust you'll find my humble accommodations acceptable," she declared in a mock-serious tone.
Leon couldn't help but laugh at her theatrics, feeling a spark of mischief. "Ah, the quality of your surprise offering will determine much, dear lady. Master Leon's castle could indeed use a few lively spirits!"
Rising to join in the jest, he raised his hands dramatically. Olivia giggled, twirled elegantly, and retreated back to the bed. Placing one hand on her hip, she pointed playfully at him.
"Then you'll have to defeat me first, Master Leon," she teased, her voice lilting with challenge.