The sun shined brightly through sparse clouds. The sea breeze was crisp and refreshing. His enemies would get to know his wrath. Leonard felt good.
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A thunderous cheer met his raised fist. The whole plaza shook with the unadulterated joy of hundreds of people who saw their Hero come unscathed out of another dangerous situation.
Walking down the last steps that separated him from the people, Leonard was met with reverent joy. Hands reached out to touch him as if seeking confirmation that he was indeed real and free. Some grasped his hands, kissing them with reverence, while others simply wanted to feel the brush of his cloak as he passed.
No one impeded his path as the crowd moved around him. Every eye he met was misted with tears drawn forth by the intense emotions the people had shouted for days. Since news of his imprisonment had spread through Alpar, a sizable number had presided over the plaza, never allowing Eichelbaum to forget what the citizens thought of his actions.
Seeing their fervent prayers answered with the majestic spectacle of the Holy Light only enflamed their hearts further. Parents pushed forward, cradling newborns in their arms, seeking his blessing for their children. Leonard obliged, his hands gentle as he bestowed a silent prayer upon each child, soft gasps escaping the people as they witnessed him call upon the Light again and again.
The people of Haylich, Leonard had learned, were not strictly religious. They worshipped no god, and the Temples served more as cultural support and healing places. Very rarely did they feel any need to express religious fervor.
This was entirely understandable in a world where time and dedication could lead almost anyone to be able to cast spells. Maybe not particularly powerful, but something far beyond what a human could expect in Leonard’s previous world.
Religion took the forefront only in three specific cases. The first and the least common, happening only once every fifty to a hundred years, was when an Incursion happened. The second, which was still far removed from anyone’s daily life, was in case of a Heresy. The last and the most well-known was when the Light manifested to grant someone a blessing. This was seen by all as an acknowledgment of someone’s efforts in their chosen field and considered a sign that they were on the righteous path.
Leonard’s ability to call upon massive amounts of Light was far beyond what the average practitioner of Holy Magic could. It was something that could be felt tangibly even by the smallfolk.
It solidified his image as something beyond the usual Hero or Saint that was occasionally summoned.
After he cleared most of the crowd, Leonard met someone familiar. A tall boy with red hair and deep blue eyes pushed through the throngs, trying his best to get closer to him. Finally, Oliver, Leonard's squire, broke through the final barrier of people, his young face streaked with tears of relief and joy. With a cry of “Sir Leonard!" he threw his arms around his mentor in a hug that conveyed more than words ever could. "I knew you'd be alright! I always trusted you!" he blubbered, his voice muffled against Leonard's cloak.
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Leonard returned the embrace, allowing the boy he had taken in a few months ago - after being worn down by the collective efforts of his fiancé and Oliver’s own puppy dog eyes - to confirm that he was fine. Even in the face of such overwhelming odds, Oliver's unwavering faith was a balm to his soul.
Leonard's gaze swept over the crowd as the celebrations continued, taking in the faces of the free men and women who had come to support him. Their jubilation was a powerful force that clearly indicated the people's will to stand against the oppression looming over the town.
Yet, as his eyes searched the masses, Leonard noticed the absence of those who could not join in this moment of triumph. The slaves, those bound by chains both physical and metaphorical, were conspicuously missing, likely forced back to their labor.
A shadow passed over his features, though he didn’t allow it to linger. Things would change soon enough.
Finally disentangling himself from Oliver's grasp, Leonard caught Damien's eye and gestured subtly toward the crowd. Understanding immediately, the priest began to disperse the people gently, his voice calm but firm as he reminded them of their daily responsibilities. "Let's return to our homes and work," the vicar intoned, "Our Hero has given us a great victory today, but life must go on. We honor his fight by living our lives to the fullest." Grudgingly, the crowd began to disband, their spirits lifted by the events they had witnessed, carrying with them a renewed sense of hope and determination.
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They all understood that something had shifted.
Shrugging off the embarrassment that came from a life lived in a different world with practiced ease, Leonard, accompanied by Oliver, made his way through the town toward the slums. The scenery gradually shifted from the well-maintained streets and buildings of the town's center to the more haphazardly constructed homes and narrower, winding pathways.
Before they could enter into the secondary market square, they were intercepted. Amelia stood before them, her appearance starkly contrasting to the drabness around her. Her hair, a cascade of dark waves, was pulled back from her face, revealing sharp, intelligent eyes that sparkled with mischief.
"Well, if it isn't Leonard the Outlaw," She called out, voice tinged with humor as she embraced him. She gracefully wrapped her arms around his shoulders and held him tight for a moment before releasing him with a genuine smile. “Your flair for the dramatic has yet to change," she added.
“Some things must be done in a certain way for the message to be understood. And I suspect some will still be capable of convincing themselves of the opposite.” Leonard answered amusedly. Calling upon a pillar of Light as he had done would have been impossible to all but the most powerful figures in Haylich’s history. A couple of Saints and the first Hero might have been able to do something similar if given the time to prepare. And yet, he knew Eichelbaum would continue to oppose him. Some men were simply too entrenched in their positions to ever change.
Amelia sighed, “I suspect we still have some work to do to make things right. Your mercy won’t mean anything to the crooks that run this town. Speaking of that, the old witch is waiting for us.”
Together with her, they resumed their walk. Well-wishers occasionally greeted them, but none stopped them. Reaching Old Lia’s house, Leonard placed his right hand over Oliver’s shoulder and stopped the boy in his tracks. “In the excitement, I forgot to ask. Have you checked on your family, Oliver? Your mother does her best, but she cannot work and follow your sisters around the whole day.”
The boy grimaced. It was the kind of guilty look Leonard had come to know very well. He appreciated it, as it showed just how honest Oliver was, though he wouldn’t say so to him.
“I’ll go now. I might have spent the past days plotting to infiltrate the prisons to free you.” The squire admitted, earning a laugh from his mentor.
Ruffling his hair, Leonard sent him on his way, smiling,” Then go and make sure everything is alright. You’ll find me here once you have done your job as the man of the family.”
Leonard and Amelia watched the boy scurry away before entering the alchemist’s house. As always, the smell of herbs and the sight of bubbling concoctions greeted them.
They found the old hobgoblin in her sitting room, for once devoid of bubbling cauldrons. Old Lia sat waiting, her sharp gaze fixed on the door as Leonard and Amelia entered.
She rose, her movements spry for her age, and gestured for them to sit around a low table. With a wave of her hand, a kettle levitated off a nearby stove, pouring steaming herbal tea into three cups with a precise casting of [Mage Hand]. The two humans thanked her and sipped, enjoying the refreshing brew.
"Leonard," Old Lia began without preamble, "do you already know who in the Royal Court tried to kill you?" Her bluntness, devoid of formalities, was characteristic of her straightforward nature.
Leonard smiled, appreciating her direct approach. "Thank you for your trust, Lia; I know it must have been nerve-racking to have Eichelbaum gloat about his impending victory and not do anything,” he responded, taking a sip of the tea before continuing, “To answer your question, someone very high up must have given the go-ahead to the operation. The resources needed to acquire Void’s Dew, the slave collar… it wasn't the work of a lone operator.”
Amelia pushed a strand of hair away from her eyes, “Could it have come from the king himself?”
Leonard knew she had never trusted the old king. She had her own reasons for it, which were entirely valid. But they were also too broad. Having been failed repeatedly by the nobility of Haylich, Leonard had never begrudged his friend her mistrust, and it seemed like she had been right all along.
But where she hated the king for what he represented and had no trouble assigning all kinds of heinous acts to him, Leonard had built a detailed image of Vasily Daniel of Haylich. He had gotten to know him well during his stay at the Royal Palace after he was summoned. He remembered the man who had welcomed him into this new world with open arms, who had shared his joy at studying ancient relics and the lost histories of this new world. He was also a consummate politician who had a hand in exiling him and likely wouldn’t have shed a tear at his passing.
"It's possible," he finally conceded, the words heavy on his tongue. "The king has killed his own siblings to secure his power. I wouldn't put it past him to try and remove me from the board. But I suspect it wasn’t him who put the plan together. He enjoys more convoluted scenarios.”
Lia nodded, her eyes sharp as flint. "Whether it's the king, some minister, or the Archmage of White doesn't matter now. It’s too late to go back to how things were. What's done is done, and we must look forward, not backward.”
Leonard released a deep breath and nodded in agreement “You are more right than you know. The past week was the worst I can remember in my life. Belinda was ripped from my arms by a poison so foul that even [True Resurrection] couldn’t save her. I was accused of her murder and made to wallow in the grimy bowels of a prison. But it also was useful for something.”
Amelia placed her cup down, giving him her undivided attention, sensing that he was truly opening up.
“Ever since I came to this world, I was at the mercy of the events. Things happened to me, and I reacted accordingly. I grew stronger because I needed to. I kept fighting because people would die if I did not. I ignored the suffering I saw because there was always something that needed to be done first. I was told repeatedly that I shouldn’t impose my morals on the people of this world, and that I would come to understand one day why things are the way they are. Well, that day has come. And what I have understood is that a deep, disgusting rot resides in this country. The way it allows for the abuse of the people until they have nothing left to give while allowing the aristocracy to grow richer from it disgusts me. My strength binds me to duty, they said. I needed to fight the monsters for the people. Well, I have found a new monster to fight, and the people will be finally free once I’m done with it.”