Chapitre 29: Chapter:29 Homecoming
Leon watches as his fellow Forest of Ladies victims cheer and laugh and cry. They drink deep from large tankards and eat heartily of hot food. They drape arms over each other's shoulders as they sing a song of gracious thanks. They praise his name, name him hero, and swear themselves to his service for fulfilling an impossible promise. Leon listens to it all with a smile and finishes his tankard before slamming it onto the table.
"Alright boys, you have fun. Those who leave tomorrow morning, I recommend going to bed early and easing up on the drinks." he tells them. "Be sure to keep in touch with your squaddies and me– and if anything happens, don't be afraid to write for help."
He gets mixed responses; requests to stay a little longer and join them drinking, acknowledgements on his orders and well-wishes to sleep, good-natured heckling and raised tankards. He just laughs and waves them off as he walks out of the pub and exhales into the cool city air– looking up at the night sky.
Even this late, there are still people present walking about– mainly commoners. Most ignore him, but glance at the pub and mutter about how loud it is even for the sort of people and custom they cater to. Leon snorts at their apparent curiosity and makes his way back to his inn, the Creaky Board.
Tomorrow he would bid goodbye to his underlings and brothers-in-arms, board the Little Buzzard, and return home– to the Barford Barony. His new holdings in the formerly Marshwell territory are under temporary supervision by royal guards, at least until he finds decent people to start running it properly. Given his reputation though, he figures it'll be a matter of putting out the notice and sorting through the coming wave of application letters.
But that's for the future. Right now, his part of the plan is over and done with for now; he deserves some rest. The voyage home will take a few days, and as comfortable as the Little Buzzard's sleeping quarters are, he'd much rather sleep somewhere that's not moving.
The Creaky Board is a modest establishment, small and reasonably priced. The innkeeper is cheery old man who's warm disposition has Leon smiling as he climbs the stairs to his room on the fourth floor.
"You're late." is what greets him the moment he steps through the door. "I expected you back 30 minutes ago."
"Bah, you weren't even here when I left a few hours ago." Leon huffs, locking the door and walking in. "Did you at least make sure nobody was watching you as you climbed through the window?"
"I was cloaked, and nobody had any reason to use magic." Hustler One rolls its eyes from its spot perched on the room's table, legs crossed.
"Good. Not in the mood to deal with whatever bullshit you'd come up with." Leon grunts, stripping himself of his clothes until he's down to his briefs. He hops into the bed and groans happily into the sheets. "God, I miss not needing to wake up for patrols."
"No, you'll be waking up for soil tilling instead. Arguably even worse." Hustler One snorts. "How was the party?"
"It was alright. Rented out the whole pub for the night and got plenty of food. Made sure to tell the constabulary to keep an eye on the place in case anybody starts anything." Leon rolls over, staring at the ceiling. "But… well, it's been pretty great so far. I got my rep, at least 3 well-trained military regiments loyal to me, and the Forest of Ladies is gone. Got word from Gilbert that he personally captured Zola, and told my father about it."
"I'm happy for you." the A.I states, and… Leon finds himself smiling at how sincere it sounds. "Really. It must be a big weight off your shoulders."
"It is, yeah. My little brother's safe, no-one's going to threaten my family again, and an annoyance has been removed from the Kingdom's side." he brings his arms back and rests his head on them. "All according to plan."
"My, aren't you proud of that?" Hustler One notes, sounding amused. "On my end, work continues apace. Resource collection has reached acceptable enough levels that I can begin small-scale reproduction of combat MTs, repair and refurbishing of the other 7 ACs still in Motherwill, and begin limited production of the Model 1 Nineball ACs." it reports. "That aside, I've also managed to gain legal documentation to start an independent research and development company, so modernization and general upgrades can finally start. All I need now is land to build the appropriate facilities on."
"Eh, I've got plenty of land from the walrus I used to be married to." Leon waves a hand. "We'll get it in writing later, but feel free to set up shop there."
"That's quite the big decision you are making, Leon. Others might think you are up to something– allowing a landless dame to set up an ambitious business project on his lands." the A.I teases. "What would all your admirers think?"
"I'm a Viscount and you're a knight– very minor nobility at best. It's normal for noblemen to have at least a few household knights swear their service to them. And if they point out that you're a woman, well…" he shrugs. "I can always say that you're a concubine and leave it at that."
"How scandalous." Hustler One drawls. "Will I be expected to warm your bed?"
"When I'm in the mood for it, yes." Leon smirks. "And it doesn't even have to be Lana Nielsen– I'm sure any member of her crew would be willing to step in for her if she asked them to."
"Hmph. Typical hormone-riddled meatbag." the gynoid chuckles. "What will you be doing in the interim period between now and your Academy enrollment? Surely a man of your talents wouldn't simply be content to stay at his family's home and help them farm."
"...it's a peaceful life." Leon says, allowing himself to dream of better times and the future he sees himself living. "You understand, don't you?"
"...I suppose I do." Hustler One nods.
Leon sees the gynoid kick off its boots and hop off the desk. It unzips its– her red jumpsuit and lets its pool around her feet.
Leon swallows as he beholds Lana Nielsen in her half-naked glory; a black tank top and white panties hugging womanly curves that has his briefs tightening. She watches him with lidded eyes and hooks her fingers under the hem of the top, pulling it off with one slow motion; her large breasts spilling out and bouncing enticingly.
The A.I giggles and unties her hair, curtains of golden hair cascading past her shoulders. Leon drinks in the sight and shifts in his bed as the gynoid walks over, crawling on with deceptive slowness as her heavy breasts sway hypnotically. Their tips pebble as they brush against Leon's skin, and he feels his arousal surge.
She stops over him and gently sits down, her barely clothed womanhood over his stiff manhood. Even through 2 thin layers of clothe, Leon can feel the growing heat and spreading wetness soaking through her panties and staining his briefs.
"You performed spectacularly in the fulfillment of your part of the plan, Leon." Hustler One tells him. "Already you have a support base at your beck and call, with more poised to throw their lot in with you. I estimate that, should we launch a revolution now, we would have a not-insignificant chance of success."
"We're not doing that, though." Leon posits. "You and I both know what happens when we do that."
"A hero rises up, defeats our forces, and casts us down to win the day." the A.I nods. "But it is a growing possibility should diplomatic means fail. And I believe that deserves a reward."
A pair of soft hands rest on Leon's abdomen, fingers tracing every muscle and scar as they trail upwards until they come to a stop on his chest. Leon's own hands wander up along the gynoid's supple thighs, over a toned waist, and cupping those amazing breasts. He gives them a slow but firm squeeze, drinking in how the soft flesh bulges out just right through the spaces between his fingers. Lana's face colors and she lets out a breathy moan that has Leon's manhood twitching.
She cups his face with her hands and tugs him up. Their lips meet and Leon immediately learns how good of a kisser the A.I is, even as he continues to grope and squeeze and knead.
"Aren't you a little perv~" she purrs between kisses. "Grabbing me so roughly– you must really like them, don't you?"
"I do. Fucking hell, I do." Leon growls as he kisses, and Lana giggles into one such kiss. "You're so sexy, Lana."
"Of course I am." she grabs his shoulders and rolls them so he's over her and she's under him. "Go on. Claim your reward~"
Leon barely manages to restrain himself as continues kissing the gynoid, one hand going low to grab her panties and tug them down long, toned legs. She spreads herself open obligingly, letting refamiliarize himself with her womanhood; fingers spreading her fluids around her labia before sliding into her hot depths.
The blonde stiffens under Leon, and he feels her hands claw at his back. Her nails dig into his skin as his fingers start pumping, his thumb finding her clitoris and rubbing slow, languid circles. Lana moans into the kiss, eyes losing focus momentarily. Leon's masculine pride surges as he pulls away from her lips to trail kisses down her throat and onto her breasts.
"G-Goodness, this gynoid body is… c-certainly living up to the 100% a-accuracy rating…" Hustler One breathes. "F-Faster, Leon~"
"Shh, quiet down." he tells her. "Don't want the innkeeper to throw us out, do you?"
"T-The Buzzard has p-plenty of roo-ooooohh~" Lana groans. "R-Right there– y-yes, that it–!"
Leon pulls back and watches as the A.I is driven to orgasm, her gorgeous body spasming as her back arches and muscles clamp down around his fingers. She lays there open-mouthed and eyes rolled back, giving her the perfect impression of a woman in the throes of pleasure. Leon feels his arousal surge and he quickly takes off his briefs.
He hurries into position between Lana's legs as she comes down from her high, not immediately thrusting forward. He waits until she's recovered enough to see him in position, to feel his hands on her wide hips, and open her mouth to say something before he sheathes himself in her with one full thrust.
She cries out, hands clawing the sheets as he catches her while she's still sensitive. Leon groans aloud himself, savoring the tightness of Lana Nielsen cumming a second time just from him penetrating her.
Then he starts moving.
His thrusts are quick and forceful, not caring for his partner's safety knowing she's literally built tougher and stronger than any normal woman. He rails into her with the sort of wild abandon that an animal would have, rutting into the gynoid's disturbingly accurate depths while she's still cumming. He doesn't stop for anything, not even listening to the A.I's cries for mercy as he pounds the shape of his cock into her untouched depths.
Slowly, the A.I starts to reciprocate; moving her hips in time to his own thrusts and locking her legs around his waist. She moans wantonly as Leon's hands find her chest, groping and squeezing. She holds him close when he leans down and leaves marks on her false skin. She lolls her tongues and he kisses her, finally cumming into her depths groan.
Lana moans into the kiss, her voice meld with Leons as she's brought to yet another orgasm. When the separate, a line of drool connects their lips together as they both pant for air; still connected within one another. Leon wipes the sweat off his brow as he catches his breath, watching the gynoid under him heave heavy breaths that make her wonderful breasts bounce.
"...Oh? Already hard?" Lana smirks, gold eyes glimmering. "I thought human males have a refractory period?"
"New Human genetics are just different, I guess." Leon laughs, squeezing her breasts. "Round 2?"
"Hah. Sure." Lana laughs. Then she moves, rolling them over so she can loom over him. Her depths tighten around him, seemingly excited. "But I'm on top this time."
=X=X=X=X=X=
The trip to the Bartford estate takes little over 3 days in total, with a quick visit to the Marshwell estate to let the temporary minders there know that Lana had sworn herself to Leon's service and he'd allowed her to build a factory on his territory.
There was also an impromptu burning of the late Charlotte Fou Marshwell's belongings, most notably her bedroom items and clothes. Her children, then few that actually came to the Marshwell estate, had made some ludicrous demands of Leon before he promptly kicked them off his property under pain of death. They fled not long after, promising repercussions that the royal minders assured him had no basis lest they wanted to challenge the authority of the crown.
From there, he sails home. His real home.
The Bartford Barony hasn't changed too much since he last saw it over a year ago– rolling fields, acres of crops, workers managing its expanse. He does note the expanded settlement around the Bartford manse and the new and refurbished docks housing multiple ships. The Little Buzzard comes into dock with little trouble, and Leon immediately walks home with Hustler One following close behind.
He takes the long route that cuts through town, unashamed at his appearance and even waving at the stunned townsfolk that see him; no doubt privy to his deeds and fame as a war hero.
Word spreads quickly and more people come out to see him; young and old, men and women and children. A few are brave enough to say hello or ask for his autograph or simply shake his hand. One of the children give him a crown made of flowers, and he's quick to don it.
When he arrives at the front gate, he sees his family hurrying out of the house. They freeze when they see him at the gate, and guards open it for him.
"I conquer two kingdoms, duel a king, fight off a legendary nuisance to the Kingdom, and what do I get?" he grumbles good naturedly, walking in as though he never even left. "Not even a welcoming party. I'm starting to think you guys forgot about me."
"L-Leon…" Barcus breathes. "You… Y-You're home…"
"I am, father dear. And no longer am I a Marshwell– that family no longer exists." he drops his rucksack. "Now I'm back to being a Bartford, as is right. As is proper. Now," he opens his arms. "Where's my hug?"
Collin is the first one to cross the distance and wrap himself around Leon's leg with a happy cry. His mother is second, running the distance as quickly as she can to engulf her son in a tight embrace. Barcus rushes in next, his strong arms wrapping around Leon and his wife as tightly as he can manage.
Leon hugs them all back, and levels a look at Finley; who looks torn.
"I should mention he brought back souvenirs from Carkus, Lura, and the capital." Lana says behind them.
"You brought us presents?!" Collin squeals, shaking his leg. "Lemme see, lemme see, lemme see, lemme see–!"
"Easy little brother, easy." Leon laughs. "Help me get mom and dad off me first, then I'll give you your present."
"Me as well, correct?" Finley sniffs, suddenly right next to the group.
"Hm, what was that? I thought I heard an overly proud little sister try to kiss ass after the moment passed." Leon hums, digging through his rucksack for his souvenirs. "Nah, it's probably nothing."
"Big brother!" Finley pouts, huffing when Leon hands Collin a golden-sheathed and gem-encrusted hunting knife. "Hey, that's mine!"
"That's Collin's, sweetheart." Barcus grunts, shaking his head. "You really should have hugged your brother, you know. He just came home from the army! Show some respect!"
"Oh, look at you– all skin and bones! You must have been starving while you were out there fighting all those dastardly enemies!" Luce practically sobs. "Come now, dinner's just about ready! You as well Lana, dear; it's the least we can do for you!"
"I-I appreciate it ma'am, but–" Hustler One tries, but Leon rolls his eyes and grabs her wrist.
"Come on, there's no arguing when my mother's involved." he grumbles. "Just behave and don't do anything stupid, hm?"
"And if I even think you're doing anything bad, I'm scrapping you."
//"Oh, please; like you can manage it–"// the A.I pauses. //"Hm. Actually, you just might."//
"You know it. Now c'mon."
"Finley, I swear by the Saint, I'll bend you over my knee and spank you if you keeping eye my rucksack." Leon barks. "Mom, stop her! She'll make off with Jenna and Nicks' presents too! Speaking of, are they still at the Academy? I might have to– that's it Finley, c'mere! C'mere!"
=X=X=X=X=X=
Barcus Fou Bartford beholds the sights and sounds of merriment as the whole Bartford settlement celebrates the return of their liege's son and a war hero.
It is a large celebration, and big enough to draw the attention of the neighboring baronies. They come in their best ships and bring their daughters with them to foster friendly relations with Leon. The boy takes it all in stride, demonstrating remarkable tolerance for the girls'... eccentricities.
He's grown in the year and 3 months that he's spent away from home, Barcus can't help but notice. He's taller now, almost as tall as Barcus himself is and just as built. He's riddled with small scars, the most prominent among them on the left side of his face. Barcus frowns at that– men with such disfigurements did not catch as much attention from women based off of his knowledge from his own time spent at the Academy, so his son may face some issues in that regard.
But then, he has the reputation and fame to more than make up for that disadvantage. He's already friendly with a Ducal heir, Gilbert Rafa Redgrave, and his deeds on the battlefield placed him as someone any woman or family would want to tie down to themselves. A scar like that wouldn't be an issue.
In fact, judging from the looks he's receiving from the various women in attendance, that scar might well be an added help. Barcus laughs to himself– yes, it seems he was worrying over nothing. His son conquered 2 separate kingdoms, surely he can handle some feminine attention.
(Leon sneezes)
"Lord Bartford." Lana Nielsen's familiar visage greets.
"Dame Nielsen." the Bartford patriarch nods back. "I hope you are enjoying the festivities."
"I am. I've permitted my crew to go out and have fun." the blonde grins. "I'm sure you've seen them among the crowd."
Barcus laughs. Oh, he's seen them alright. A shame he is a one-woman man, or else maybe he could have… He shakes his head. No, no, his Luce is more than enough for him.
"Anyways," Barcus coughs. "I heard you were busy during the war, ferrying supplies for the Luran conquest. I hope my son hadn't troubled you too much."
"Oh, not at all! His plans called for speed and reliability, so he used me as best he could." Lana laughs. "I merely fulfilled my tasks and he fulfilled his. It's amazing really, that he could orchestrate such a thing with the limited time and resources at his disposal."
"Aye. I've heard the stories." Barcus sighs. "I heard he even trained Armor pilots while he was there?"
"He did. They proved quite capable and eager to learn." Lana smiles. "Your son is really amazing."
"...he is, yes." Barcus chuckles, turn to the boy in question as flexes his left arm so a curious little girl can feel it up. "Sometimes I wonder if I did anything to help him grow into what he is now. It feels like yesterday that he was out in the fields tilling soil. Now he's…" Barcus shrugs, helpless. "It feels like he's no longer my son."
"...I can understand that. Sometimes children grow quicker than they're supposed to." the woman nods, walking up to stand beside him; both of them watching Leon as he continues to interact with the people. "It must be daunting to see them become adults when, in your eyes, you were cleaning scraped knees and kissing them goodnight not too long ago."
Barcus has no words for that, merely nodding his agreement. It was true, in a way. His son had grown so quickly in so little time; and it felt like Barcus wasn't even there to watch him. It hurt, that he just missed a chunk of his son's life as he grew from boy to man. And it hurt more that there would be more moments like it that he would also miss in the future.
Part of him understood that this is inevitable. It is the calling of the son to replace the father after all, and he had no way to stop the march of time. But still…
"...I just wish I was there." he admits to the blonde.
"Well…" she pats his arm. "You can be there for him now. It won't make up for the lost time, but you can at least make what you have left that much more meaningful."
"How?" Barcus finds himself asking. "How can I do that?"
"By being there for him, silly man." the blonde giggles. "Like right now."
Barcus blinks and turns to Leon, watching as he's swamped by a few overeager barons rushing to make his acquaintance. He laughs at that for a moment, then decides that the woman was right. He couldn't make up for lost time, but at least… at least he'd make what he had left matter.
"I suppose I shall go save him then." he sighs. "Thank you, Miss Nielsen."
"Please, Lana's fine." the woman nods.
"Then call me Barcus." he smirks. "Or father-in-law. Either works."
The woman laughs, but there's no hiding the faint blush on her features. Heh, Leon you sly dog.
État de l’alimentation hebdomadaire
-- Classement
Power Stone 
-- Power
stone