Chapitre 20: Secrets Of The Beasts
The Academy's towering spires loomed ahead as Orin and his squad returned from the Valley of Echoes. Exhaustion weighed heavily on them, but the Mark of Accord glowed faintly in Zeela's hands, a constant reminder of their success. For Orin, however, the journey back felt hollow. The Warden's haunting roar and Cleve's cryptic words echoed in his mind.
Back at the Academy, the squad was ushered into the debriefing hall. General Siegfreed Lox stood at the head of the room, flanked by Generals Sheil Luthren and Cleve Rain. Their expressions were unreadable, but the tension in the air was undeniable.
"You've returned," Siegfreed began, his voice resonating through the hall. "And with the Mark of Accord, you've proven your worth. But this was only the first step."
Zeela stepped forward, holding out the glowing artifact. "What does it mean?" she asked. "Why was the Warden guarding it?"
Siegfreed's piercing gaze shifted to Orin, lingering for a moment before he answered. "The Mark is a fragment of the Accord—a binding force that once kept the balance between Blood and Arcane. The Warden was its last protector."
"And why the sudden imbalance?" Wake asked, his arms crossed. "Why now?"
Sheil's sharp voice cut through the room. "The Black Tiger. Its presence—and the rise in Monari activity—are connected. The balance is unraveling, and we believe the source lies in the Monari-Kai. Specifically, in Azail."
The mention of the name sent a chill down Orin's spine. The beast inside him stirred restlessly, its growl low and insistent.
"Azail…" Orin murmured, his voice barely audible.
Siegfreed's gaze snapped to him. "What do you know of Azail, Orin?"
Orin hesitated, the weight of their eyes bearing down on him. He could feel the beast clawing at the edges of his mind, its whispers louder than ever. *Tell them nothing,* it hissed. *They will fear you.*
"Not much," Orin lied, his voice tight. "I just… heard the name during the trial."
Cleve studied him carefully, his calm demeanor unreadable. "Azail was once a Monari-Kai general—a force of shadow and flame. He disappeared centuries ago, but his name has resurfaced in troubling ways."
Sheil nodded. "The disturbances in the Monari are not random. They are being driven by something—or someone. And we believe Azail may be the catalyst."
Siegfreed's voice softened, though his tone remained firm. "Your next mission will bring you closer to the truth. Rest now, but prepare yourselves. The path ahead will test you in ways the Valley of Echoes did not."
As the group was dismissed, Orin lingered, his mind racing. The others left, their murmured conversations fading into the distance. Siegfreed caught his eye before leaving the room, and for a moment, Orin thought he might say something more. But the general simply nodded and turned away.
Orin was left alone in the debriefing hall, the whispers in his mind growing louder.
Night had fallen by the time Orin returned to his quarters. The Academy was quiet, its halls bathed in the pale glow of moonlight. But Orin's thoughts were far from calm. He paced his room, his fists clenched as the beast's voice echoed in his mind.
*You are hiding from them. They will never accept you.*
"Shut up," Orin muttered, his voice trembling.
*You think you can face Azail without me? You think you can survive what's coming?*
Orin slammed his hands against the desk, his breathing ragged. "I don't need you."
The beast laughed, a low, guttural sound that made Orin's skin crawl. *You already do. You just won't admit it.*
Before Orin could respond, a soft knock at the door interrupted him. He froze, the tension in his chest easing slightly as the sound pulled him back to reality. Taking a deep breath, he opened the door to find Zeela standing there, her expression unusually gentle.
"You okay?" she asked, stepping inside without waiting for an invitation.
Orin sighed, leaning against the wall. "Define 'okay.'"
Zeela crossed her arms, studying him closely. "You've been off since the Valley. More than usual. And don't give me some half-hearted excuse. What's going on?"
Orin hesitated, his gaze dropping to the floor. He wanted to tell her—to tell someone—about the beast, about the whispers, about the Black Tiger and its cryptic warning. But the fear of rejection, of being seen as a monster, held him back.
"I'm just tired," he said finally. "The trial took a lot out of me."
Zeela's sharp eyes narrowed. "You're a terrible liar."
Orin managed a weak smile. "I'll work on that."
She sighed, running a hand through her silver hair. "Look, whatever it is, you don't have to face it alone. We're a team, remember?"
The words struck something deep within Orin, but he couldn't bring himself to respond. Zeela didn't press further. She simply nodded and turned to leave, pausing at the door.
"Just… don't shut us out," she said softly before disappearing into the hallway.
Orin stood there for a long moment, her words echoing in his mind. He wanted to believe her. But the beast's voice returned, colder and sharper than before.
*They will abandon you. Just like the others.*
The next morning, Orin joined the squad in the training yard. General Cleve Rain was there, overseeing their drills with his usual calm intensity. Today's exercises were focused on combat coordination, a skill Cleve emphasized relentlessly.
Orin struggled to focus, his movements sluggish and unfocused. Zeela's earlier words lingered in his mind, clashing with the beast's relentless whispers. When Wake called for a break, Orin slumped against a post, his chest heaving.
"You look like hell," Hiroshi said, leaning casually against the same post.
"Thanks for the observation," Orin muttered.
Hiroshi's smirk faded, his gaze sharpening. "Whatever's going on in that head of yours, you need to figure it out. Fast. Because if you lose it in the field, we're all dead."
Orin clenched his fists, the weight of Hiroshi's words cutting deep. He knew the risk. He felt it every time the beast stirred within him. But the question remained—how could he face what he didn't fully understand?
Cleve's voice broke through his thoughts. "Slain. With me."
Orin froze, his pulse quickening. The general's tone left no room for argument. He followed Cleve to a quieter part of the yard, away from prying eyes and ears.
"You're holding back," Cleve said, his piercing gaze fixed on Orin. "In training, in the field, even here. Why?"
no
Orin hesitated, his mind racing. Cleve's calm yet unyielding presence made it impossible to deflect or lie. Finally, he spoke, his voice low.
"There's… something inside me," he admitted. "Something I can't control."
Cleve studied him for a long moment, his expression unreadable. "And you fear it."
Orin nodded, his throat tightening. "If I let it out… I don't know if I can stop it."
Cleve's gaze softened slightly. "Fear is natural. But it cannot rule you. The power inside you is a tool—nothing more. If you let it control you, it will destroy you. But if you master it…"
Cleve paused, his eyes narrowing. "You may find it's the key to your survival."
Orin swallowed hard, the weight of Cleve's words settling over him. He wanted to believe them, but the beast's voice remained, a constant reminder of the danger lurking within.
That night, Orin stood on the Academy's outer wall, staring out at the distant forest. The stars above seemed impossibly far, their light cold and indifferent. He clenched his fists, his breath visible in the crisp night air.
"Whatever you are," he whispered, his voice trembling, "I'll figure out the truth. And I'll decide what to do with you."
The beast didn't respond, but Orin felt its presence, simmering beneath the surface. It was a battle he wasn't sure he could win, but one he knew he couldn't avoid.
As the wind carried the distant sounds of the forest to his ears, Orin made a silent vow. Whatever lay ahead—Azail, the Black Tiger, or the truth of his own nature—he would face it.
And this time, he wouldn't run.
État de l’alimentation hebdomadaire
-- Classement
Power Stone 
-- Power
stone