The Storm King

“Two years ago, Leon Ursus departed from this institution a third-tier squire, and today he returns a sixth-tier knight!” the Legate of the Knight Academy said, his voice resounding through the parade grounds and the ears of the tens of thousands of people attending the ceremony. But these people didn’t have the time to process their shock at such a rapid ascent in power as the Legate wasn’t done, yet. “Not only that, he comes back to us a veteran of the short war with the Valemen two years ago as well as the war with the Talfar Kingdom just a few months ago! In the service of His Highness, Prince Trajan, Sir Leon Ursus has performed his duties admirably in the service of this Kingdom!”

Leon wished he could just disappear. He’d had many an eye upon him before, but he didn’t think he’d ever be the center of attention for so many. Even when taking the stage, he’d attracted some curious glances from people who’d seen him at the Royal court or had heard about his relationship with Elise and Heaven’s Eye, but Trajan had still been the center of most people’s attention.

And now all that attention was fixed firmly upon him. What was more, he could feel the thousands of stares from the knights and former-squires on the stage, and since he personally knew many of those people, the weight of their stares almost exerted more pressure than that of the rest of the crowd.

Fortunately, Leon wasn’t expected to do much other than suffer under this pressure, and after pointing him out, the Legate moved on. Still, those few seconds felt like an eternity to Leon, and he could still feel a great deal of attention on him after the Legate continued with the ceremony, which mostly consisted of dismissing the Kingdom’s newest knights and their mentors from the stage, and then giving some closing remarks about the glory of the Bull Kingdom, House Taurus, and the Ancestors.

After that, the ceremony was over. The trainees moved on to their squireships, the returning squires had been knighted, and Leon had been thoroughly embarrassed in front of the whole Kingdom. On top of his performance in the arena just a couple months before, Leon couldn’t even imagine how the people of the capital were going to talk about him now—not that he had much intent to actually find out, he’d rather never know for certain.

Of course, he understood why the Legate would elucidate his accomplishments, even if he hated the result. Since Leon was knighted without the Knight Academy's permission, the Legate had to stress what Leon had accomplished, and in doing so would also stress that Leon’s knighting wasn’t something to be done under normal circumstances.

In effect, the Legate said that Leon had ascended to the sixth-tier, had been taken into the service of the most prestigious and respected Prince in the Kingdom, and was a veteran of two wars. It was a little misleading of the Legate to do that, as when Leon was knighted, he was only of the fourth-tier and had just survived the Valeman attack in the Northern Territories. Misleading though it was, the Legate also said that only those Knight Academy trainees who could match what Leon had done would be allowed to be knighted outside of the Academy’s knighting ceremony without repercussions.

Whether it would work or not wasn’t Leon’s concern, though. The ceremony was over, and the people were beginning to leave, and all he could think about was just how many people were still looking at him and talking about what he’d done in just two years.

Sensing Leon’s anxiety, Trajan said, “Ursus, the rest of the day is yours.”

Leon gratefully said, “Yes, Your Highness,” and high-tailed it off the stage as quickly as he could while maintaining his dignity. Once he was mostly out of sight, though, he had to figure out what to do. Before leaving home for the ceremony, he’d told Elise not to wait up for him as he wanted to catch up with his friends and exchange contact information while they were still in the city. Now, however, he knew they were going to be around all the other people from the Knight Academy that Leon had known, and he wanted to avoid too many questions after the Legate’s reveal of his career history.

In the end, Leon grit his teeth and made his way back toward the building his friends and all the other former squires had returned to after leaving the stage.

For their part, the Paladins and the Princes took their time, pausing to mingle with the nobility before leaving the parade grounds. Trajan had to fight off or otherwise placate nosy people who wanted to know more about Leon, which he was happy enough to do for his young protégé, but he shared similar feelings with Leon about wanting to leave and get back to work.

‘Leave the glad-handing and political dance to Julius and August, I fucking hate this shit,’ the Prince bitterly thought even as he plastered a smile on his face for the benefit of the nobles who were pestering him.

Leon was undergoing something similar, for as soon as he entered the building by the parade grounds, he found himself practically face-to-face with his old comrades from the Knight Academy.

“Leon!” Castor shouted; the brown-haired and blue-eyed noble was the first to greet him upon his arrival. He’d been the leader of the Snow Lions during Leon’s time in the Academy, and it seemed he’d grown a bit in the two years since Leon had seen him last. He was now about as tall as Leon was, but his aura indicated he was still a third-tier mage.

In fact, from what Leon could tell, none of the other nobles who had gone to the Knight Academy along with him had ascended past the third-tier, with the sole exception of Valeria, who had made it to the fourth-tier.

Still, though, most of their auras were more stable than they had been, and Leon could tell that there were a few who were close to ascension.

Case in point, Castor.

“Castor!” Leon shouted as he walked forward with an arm extended. “Or, should I be saying Sir Castor, now?”

“Ah, that’s right, we’re both knights, aren’t we?” Castor responded, his face splitting open in a wide smile. “It’s fine, you can just call me by my name.”

“Then do the same for me,” Leon said, his own smile more narrow and subtle, but still apparent.

The two old comrades grasped each other’s wrists. They weren’t necessarily friends, but they were still old comrades and quite friendly with each other. The man that Castor had been speaking with, however, wasn’t quite at that level with Leon.

Alphonsus stepped forward, his brown hair a bit darker and his pretty-boy looks having hardened a bit into a more rugged handsomeness.

“Sir Leon, it’s good to see you,” the young nobleman said, his tone almost neutral save for a slight undercurrent of uncertainty. His and Leon’s relationship was amicable enough by the end of their cycle in the Knight Academy, but he, after two years of having discipline drilled into him by his assigned knight, could readily admit that he had been an unfriendly jerk to Leon back then, and that would be putting it charitably.

“And you,” Leon said, holding his arm out to the other man, showing that no hard feelings were felt. It wasn’t that powerful of a gesture under normal circumstances, but given Leon’s own aversions to physical contact, it spoke volumes about his feelings on the matter, as well as showed how much more open he had become after two years in the Legions.

The two young men grasped each other’s wrists, though Alphonsus was a bit hesitant about it.

Looking around, Leon could see a few more familiar faces from the Snow Lions, mostly those lesser nobles who had been second-tier at the time, and he gave them all polite nods, which were returned. He hadn’t been that close to any of them, whether professionally or personally, but they all could respect each other’s abilities and status as knights.

But even though Leon enjoyed seeing them all again, these young nobles weren’t who he had come back to see.

“Leon!” came another voice booming from the crowd of new knights who were getting ready to be released in the wake of the ceremony. Unfortunately, Leon recognized this voice and knew that it didn’t belong to someone he wanted to see, either.

Alcander burst through the crowd, his massive frame somehow growing even greater in the past two years—though given that he had been almost seven feet tall at the time, that extra size was mostly due to an increase in muscle mass, which two years ago, Leon wouldn’t have considered possible given his already huge size at the time. Other than that, his square face, curly brown hair, and jovial-yet-challenging smile were all still exactly the same.

“Sir Alcander,” Leon said, choosing to stick with formal titles with everyone until told otherwise.

“To shit with fancy titles!” Alcander roared as he pulled Leon into a bear hug.

Handshakes were one thing, but hugs were another entirely, and Leon gave the bigger man a light jolt of lightning in response. It wasn’t enough to harm the third-tier nobleman, but it was enough to get him to stop and hold out his hand instead.

“I guess it’s true, then, you really are sixth-tier… or at least, fifth-tier,” came a fourth voice.

Marcus walked out of the crowd to give his greetings, a sly smile on his lips and his sharp gaze trained on Leon. His change was, perhaps, the last drastic out of all the people Leon knew back in their days in the Knight Academy. He was still a man of about average height, thin and unassuming, and other than the smile, his entire face was stony and rigid. He wasn’t a man that smiled too often—at least, not unless he was having fun with some kind of overly complicated scheme or battle plan.

“Had some doubts?” Leon asked, holding out his arm for a fourth time, which Marcus gladly grasped.

“You have to admit, it’s quite the exciting tale that my uncle told out there, about your power and what you’ve done in these two short years…” Marcus said, reminding Leon that he and the Legate were related.

Marcus came from a family whose head possessed the rank of Count. They were based in the Eastern Territories, and their struggles against their enemies and in particular, the northern tribes of stone giants—entirely separate and more disunited than the southern tribes which Lapis had come from—had given them enough experience in war that they had essentially written the book on warfare in the Bull Kingdom. More than half of the Legates of the Knight Academy were from Marcus’ House, and their sons and daughters were all high-ranking knights in the Royal Legions, assuming they weren’t administering a castle or garrison in their home county.

“That being said,” Marcus continued as he stared at Leon, “I received word from my family about the stone giants being a bit more docile over the past few months. Apparently, the Diplomatic Corps managed to clinch a non-aggression pact with the southern stone giants thanks to some young knight, and this has even extended to some of the northern tribes of giants. There haven’t been nearly so many raids lately for my family to fight off in recent months.”

“Good to hear that,” Leon said, a dangerous smile plastered on his face. “Whoever that young knight was, I’m sure he’d be happy with your gratitude…”

“No need to step around the issue,” Marcus said, not caring at all that Leon didn’t want to reveal yet one more thing that he did during his time at the Bull’s Horns. “I know that you were that knight. You’ve brought my family and their soldiers some respite from the stone giants’ raids, and for that, I both thank you, and hold no doubt about what we’ve been told that you’ve done or that you deserve it.”

Leon stared at the man in embarrassment, though there wasn’t any anger in his gaze, either. It was embarrassing, but Leon wasn’t particularly ashamed of what he’d done in the Cradle, as it had worked out for everyone involved.

“Wait, what happened?” Alcander asked, and his inquiring gaze was mirrored in the faces of both Castor and Alphonsus.

Before any explanations could be had, however, Leon finally saw three young men and two women forcing their way through the crowds. His friends, Charles, Henry, and Alain, along with Valeria and Asiya, were here.