Chapitre 18: The fire that burns in the heart
"Bor—ne!"
"Borne!"
Two children's voices echoed, calling his name. The voices felt so familiar to him, like echoes from a distant memory.
On the wide road ahead, a shadowy figure appeared.
Borne squinted, trying to make out the silhouette, and felt an inexplicable sense of familiarity.
The warhorse continued its slow pace along the road, drawing ever closer to the figure.
Borne's pupils suddenly contracted.
He couldn't believe the back he was seeing, but his heart yearned deeply to see that figure once more.
He urged the horse forward, pressing toward that shadow.
By now, the ringing in his ears had grown so loud that he could no longer hear the world around him.
His face bore an expression of profound complexity; his lips quivered slightly, trying to form words, but nothing came out.
The horse was just a few steps away from the figure.
Suddenly!
The figure turned around.
It revealed a weary and disheveled face.
His golden hair and beard were unkempt, wild and unruly.
His blue eyes were void of any light.
On his shoulder, he carried the carcass of a wild boar.
"Borne."
Borne saw the face he had missed so desperately.
"Father... is it you?"
At that moment, the sun in the sky seemed too bright, so he raised his hand to shield his eyes.
When Borne opened his eyes again, he noticed that the warhorse beneath him had disappeared, and everything around him seemed magnified.
"Borne, what are you daydreaming about?"
A childish voice questioned him.
Borne turned towards the voice and saw a young, innocent face.
Was this real?
He felt as if his breathing had stopped.
A clump of mud flew toward the back of his head, and he felt a soft, wet impact.
Borne turned around to see another childish face, grinning and sticking out his tongue while kneading more mud in his hands.
"Are you scared?" the child taunted.
Suddenly, another ball of mud hit him on the back of the head.
"Come on, move already!"
This time, young Dillon and young Victor were both throwing mud at Borne.
He was under a joint attack from the two.
Borne immediately crouched down and began forming a mud ball, his face breaking into a carefree smile as he started to retaliate.
The clouds in the sky burned redder and redder as dusk quickly approached.
Just then, a sharp, shrill woman's voice rang out.
"Dillon! Borne! Victor!"
A woman hurriedly came towards them, holding a broom.
She wore a stern expression as she approached.
Instinctively, the three children turned and ran, but they were quickly caught.
The young Dillon had his ear grabbed.
The three children were led back home by the woman.
Outside, the woman fetched a bucket of steaming hot water, clearly freshly boiled.
She took a ladle and scooped a bit of cold water from a nearby bucket, pouring it into the hot water.
Then, she poured the warm water over the three bare-bottomed children.
Immediately, they started to cry out from the scalding heat.
The woman grabbed a cloth and scrubbed the mud off their bodies.
After washing them, she wrapped all three of them in a large, worn-out cloth to dry them off.
Then, she turned and went back to the kitchen to continue her chores.
Borne looked around the house and noticed a hole in the roof that hadn't been patched and that the stone bricks of the house were quite old and worn.
The woman came out of the kitchen, holding three steaming crab cakes.
Borne looked at them and was silent for a moment; it had been a long time since he had seen this food.
Crab cakes were actually a very cheap food.
They were made from leftover crab shells, bread crumbs, with some wilted leaves mixed in water.
Dillon and Victor couldn't wait and eagerly reached out, only to yelp in pain from the heat.
The three of them began to eat the crab cakes happily.
Young Dillon and Victor called out to Borne.
He was about to respond, but when he opened his eyes again, he found himself surrounded by a noisy crowd.
What was happening?
His father was gripping his hand tightly, his face stern, moving quickly, nearly causing Borne to stumble.
Borne turned back and saw his grandfather organizing some young men to grab weapons and prepare to defend against a beast tide.
All around, the villagers were shouting and fleeing outside the village.
Suddenly, his father stopped, released his grip, and stood alone for a moment.
Then, his father turned and quickly walked towards his grandfather's position.
Borne saw his father arguing with some of the younger men in the village.
He could vaguely hear those young men arguing with his father.
Afterward, his father said a few more words to his grandfather.
His grandfather, after some thought, spoke sternly to the young men in the village.
"Let's move quickly. We must not become a burden to Leon!"
Grandfather ran anxiously toward Borne, quickly grabbing his hand and pulling him toward the outskirts of the village.
Borne looked back and saw his father grabbing an axe, the axe in his hand engulfed in blazing flames.
Without hesitation, his father charged forward toward the flood-like wave of magical beasts.
The earth was constantly trembling as if in a violent earthquake, and it seemed as though the ground itself was about to crack open.
A mass of flying magical beasts covered the entire sky, as if the sun had disappeared, swallowed by the darkness.
Even from a distance, the stench emanating from the beasts was enough to make one want to vomit.
Amid this foul odor, there was a strong, acrid scent of blood.
"Father!"
Borne cried as his grandfather dragged him out of the village.
After reaching the outskirts, his grandfather quickly organized everyone to run toward a large cave further down.
The women, holding their children tightly, followed closely behind him.
Once they reached the cave, everyone huddled together, kneeling on the ground in earnest prayer.
Borne saw his grandfather also kneeling, his lips moving as if he were quietly repeating a phrase.
"Please let him be safe, please let him be safe, please let him be safe."
Borne curled up, staring at the only light source in front of him, warming the cave entrance.
The cries of several children caught Borne's attention, and he noticed Dillon and Victor clinging to their mothers, weeping.
The women gently comforted them.
When Borne came back to his senses, the once bright and blazing fire had gradually dimmed.
Beside him, his grandfather was whispering with several young men about keeping watch.
They held various farming tools in their hands and stood guard at the entrance of the cave.
As a wave of drowsiness washed over him, Borne closed his eyes and leaned against a rock, falling asleep.
When he opened his eyes again, the sky was still somewhat dark.
His grandfather was organizing the villagers to return to the village.
On their way back, Borne felt a vague sense of unease in his heart.
The smell of blood lingered in the air, drifting far, causing several villagers to feel nauseous.
Borne, too, felt his stomach churn violently, as if he could vomit at any moment.
When they reached the village entrance, they were immediately horrified by the sight of one beast corpse after another.
Many of the beasts' bodies were headless, with fresh blood spurting from their necks. Some of the corpses even twitched a few times.
The villagers could not hold back and began to vomit.
Although Grandfather did not vomit, his face was pale.
As they entered the village, they were surprised to find that it had not been damaged at all.
Covering their mouths and noses, they cautiously stepped over the piles of beast corpses.
The villagers slowly made their way into the village, their expressions ranging from fear to shock.
Grandfather noticed a beast's body on the roof, its eyes staring straight at them.
He was about to tell the villagers to back away.
Suddenly, the corpse fell from the roof, splitting in half upon impact with the ground.
Blood sprayed in all directions, splattering many of the villagers.
Terrified, the villagers fell to the ground, screaming loudly.
Even Grandfather, an experienced hunter, could not help but vomit.
Regaining his composure, he continued to lead everyone forward.
The deeper they went, the denser the piles of corpses became, and the overwhelming stench made it hard for them to keep their eyes open.
When they reached the heart of the village, they saw a man kneeling on one knee, leaning on a wooden stick.
His gray hemp clothes were stained red with blood, and his red hair showed traces of golden strands.
The villagers were all stunned by this sight.
Grandfather, trembling all over, stared at the kneeling man before him.
The next moment!
His last bit of rationality vanished entirely, and he dashed madly toward the man.
The old man dropped to his knees and held him tightly, silently weeping, as tears streamed from his cloudy eyes.
Choking on his tears, he repeated a single phrase over and over.
"My son! My son! My son!"
At that moment, the wooden stick shattered, and the man's body collapsed downward.
The frail old man's trembling hands struggled to hold the man's body.
His already aged face now bore several new wrinkles.
His gray-white hair, in that moment, turned completely white.
It was as if the old man had lost all his vitality.
He stared at the man in his arms.
The man's body was cold and stiff.
The head of the man in his arms fell back, no longer able to hold itself up.
His hand, devoid of a pulse, hung limply downward.
The entire body was silent, with no heartbeat, leaning completely into the old man's embrace.
His thigh rested against the old man's knee, while his lower leg, without any support, dangled downward.
Gradually, the dark clouds in the sky began to clear.
The true sun emerged, and the first rays of morning light shone upon the father and son.
The first light cast their silhouettes in a blurred glow.
The villagers, heads bowed, stood in silence, surrounding the father and son.
Borne looked at his father and grandfather, and in that instant, it felt as if the whole world had come to a halt.
His heart seemed to stop beating; his eyes reddened, and tears fell down his cheeks.
In the next moment!
He could no longer contain his emotions and felt a need to let them out.
His heart, which had seemed to stop, now trembled violently, and he felt as if his heart were being scorched by an inextinguishable flame.
His eyes filled with a golden fire.
The light of the flames burst forth at that moment.
"Father!"
Lying on the horse's back, Borne suddenly straightened up, his previously weakened body now brimming with life.
The fire in his heart continued to scorch his chest, and his heart pounded violently.
Waves of pain surged through him.
The flames seemed to have a life of their own, rushing to his limbs.
His vision was filled with a golden light.
He cried out, calling for his father.
In the next moment, the golden fire in his eyes vanished.
Once again, he collapsed onto the horse's back.
État de l’alimentation hebdomadaire
-- Classement
Power Stone 
-- Power
stone