The clash of swords echoed through the night, muffled by the cries of distress and the furious growls of the wild boars. Helia, still groggy from sleep, suddenly opened her eyes, disoriented, her heart racing as she heard the scream: "Repel them! Do not let any of them through!"
At the same moment, Sir Aldric hastily entered her tent, his panic evident despite his discipline. Helia, still in shock, stammered, "W-what is happening?"
"Boars!" he replied quickly, grabbing the largest sword kept in the tent. He struggled to put on the metal corset of his armor with a trembling hand. "They've breached the barriers. Several of the men are down. I must go, but you... you must not leave this tent!" He added, looking at her with intensity. "Stay here, I will help them."
Without waiting for a response, he rushed out of the tent, leaving Helia alone with her scattered thoughts. Immediately, she made her way to the entrance of the tent, lifting the canvas slightly to observe the scene outside.
Only a few meters away, a horrifying sight met her eyes. A dozen men were attempting to control two giant wild boars. The beasts, enormous, had already wreaked havoc in the camp. Knights lay on the ground, injured or unconscious, and that was just part of what she could see. The fierce growls of the animals filled the night as a man struggled to rise, his legs trembling.
She saw Sir Aldric running, with unwavering determination, toward one of the boars. He managed to sever one of its legs, narrowly saving an unarmored knight whom he shoved aside with a swift movement. But the creature wasn't so easily defeated, roaring in pain.
Then, Léon burst onto the scene, unarmored but with shining bravery. He rushed toward the wounded animal, and with a powerful strike, decapitated it, ending its agony.
Helia turned quickly, her eyes searching for Arthur in the fray. He was there, sword in hand, attempting to subdue the second boar with the help of several knights. They were patiently trying to create an opening, but the animal, maddened with rage, charged wildly, forcing everyone to defend themselves. The most urgent task was to survive the violent assaults of the beast.
Several knights moved to encircle the creature, drawing its attention to the front, while others slipped behind, seeking an angle of attack. Finally, in perfect synchronization, the attacks were set: those at the front assaulted the beast, forcing it to turn around to defend itself. This movement gave Arthur the chance to rush to the side and use the opening to land the fatal blow.
But at the last moment, the boar pivoted abruptly, faster than expected, and raised its claws in a violent motion. Arthur, too close to dodge completely, froze. Suddenly, Léon, who had been at the front, rushed in to attack from the front, diverting the animal's attention. He managed to pull it away from Arthur, but at the cost of a violent injury. The boar clawed him fiercely, throwing Léon back.
Helia, frozen in place, relived in an instant the almost identical scene to the death of the red-haired knight during the journey. Her heart raced. Arthur screamed, a heart-wrenching cry: "Léon! No!"
But he could not rush to his aid, for the boar, once enraged again, focused on him. Arthur had no choice but to defend himself, his anger and despair intertwining with each movement.
Helia, still motionless, felt something burning inside her. Without thinking, she reacted in a rush of pure adrenaline. She turned sharply, grabbed the flask of her preparation from the night before, as well as a glove. Still in her nightgown, hair disheveled, she rushed outside, her curls dancing in the wind as she slipped on the glove. Every step seemed to carry her as if her body acted without her consent.
She ran with all her might toward Léon, lying on the ground. Sir Aldric saw her coming and shouted, shocked, "Miss! What are you doing?!"
But she ignored him completely. Reaching Léon, she quickly bent over him. His eyes were half-closed, his breathing labored. The wound on his chest was deep, but not enough to threaten his life unless it was for the poison, and his blood stained his clothes. Helia, her hands trembling, carefully applied the salve to the open wound. She gently massaged to make the remedy sink in, then pressed firmly on the wound to stop the bleeding.
Meanwhile, the knights had managed to subdue the second boar. Sir Aldric, his face marked by anger and worry, rushed toward her.
"Lady Helia, what possessed you to...?" he began, but was interrupted by Lord Bellair, who knelt hastily by Léon. Out of breath, he asked in a tone both curious and shocked: "What did you do?"
Helia stood there, too focused to respond. Her heart was racing, and terror still paralyzed her limbs. Sir Aldric was moving around them, but she couldn't tear her gaze away from Léon, lying on the ground, struggling for his life.
Arthur, who had also approached, remained silent, his face marked by an expression of anguish. The other knights around him were equally frozen, absorbed by the urgency of the situation. The tension was palpable, and the air seemed to thicken around them.
As Léon struggled to breathe, Arthur watched every movement, every sigh, as if it could make the difference. Then, suddenly, Léon closed his eyes, and a shiver ran through Arthur's body. His faint hopes vanished in an instant, like a candle blown out by a cold wind. He felt his heart tighten, a lump of anxiety building in his throat.
The knights, well aware of the closeness between Arthur and Léon, remained frozen, witnesses to a tragedy that overwhelmed them. Arthur, for his part, had seen the shadow of despair settle on his friend. His features hardened as a wave of realism washed over him.
The heavy silence that enveloped the camp was broken by Arthur's voice, which, in an authoritative and almost robotic tone, declared: "Do what you must. Take the bodies to the morgue and burn the carcasses." The coldness of his words rang out like thunder in the tense air. The knights, initially frozen in shock, exchanged curious, almost incredulous looks. They knew how much Arthur cared for Léon, and seeing that impassive expression on his face unsettled them.
Arthur clenched his fists, a fierce determination radiating from his gaze, his mind focused on the importance of this struggle. Slowly, the knights began to move, reacting to the orders, but their gestures were hesitant, as if waking from a deep sleep, a stupor brought on by the horror of the situation.
As he turned to leave, a troubled voice pierced the silence, that of Lord Bellair, his fingers on Léon's neck. "Your Majesty! Sir Léon..." Having caught the prince's attention, he continued in a tone tinged with disbelief: "He's alive."