The fist met the cheek of Autem de Hastam, son of the Lance. Falling back, the ten-year-old blond boy gritted his teeth, his blue eyes flashing. His opponent was three years older than him. Taller, the son of the Marquis of Guan was a brute who enjoyed hitting hard.

Even though they were at a simple training session, attended by King Oktar himself, Gustave looked determined to beat him up. Imposing for Autem, with a tooth missing and a bad look, he seemed to enjoy hitting.

Or rather, punching a Protector's son.

Nevertheless, the elder Rainier was used to this stance. Putting himself back in a combative posture, he ignored the pain that was spreading in his jaw, to address a cheeky smile to his opponent.

-You hit like a girl.

Gustave's cheeks turned red with anger. Rushing at him, he struck blindly, without any technique. Slipping under his guard, Autem grabbed him by the front of his shirt while giving a blow to the back of his knee. Drawn by his own weight, Gustave fell to the ground with a thud, while the son of the Lance put an arm around his neck.

- Victory for Autem de Hastam! said the instructor who was watching them.

Straightening up, out of breath, the blond boy looked around. In the huge room that served as a training room, dozens of children were fighting, under the gaze of King Oktar. King Oktar was standing on a platform, watching everything. When he met his gaze, the king gave him a discreet thumbs-up sign.

Autem answered with a big smile.

Grandpa Oktar, although he was not related to him by blood, was always kind. He always supported the children of the Protectors in the face of adversity. For being born the child of a Duke or a Duchess did not make them totally safe.

It was not for nothing that Autem was able to defeat a child bigger and more experienced than him. Besides... He looked around for his lifelong friend. The son of the Hammer, with his dark skin and thick black hair, was unmistakable. But his deep red eyes made him absolutely unmistakable.

Or was it the fact that he was already sitting with boredom next to his opponent, a fourteen-year-old boy who held a bloody compress against his open eyebrow? Definitely, Tamir was having a hard time controlling his strength.

Noticing that he had finished his fight, the latter came running towards him, with a big smile.

-So, what? Did Papi Oktar give you a sign, too?

-Yeah! But tell me, is it just me or are the big guys trying to hit us harder and harder?

- Yes, I think so, Tamir agreed, looking at Gustav, who grumbled as he got to his feet. But mine was of an exemplary weakness.

- It is especially you who have a strength out of standard, noticed Autem while moving towards the buffet, put at the disposal for the combatants having completed their turn.

The small brown shrugged his shoulders, with a small disillusioned smile. He wouldn't say otherwise, that would clearly be false modesty. For Tamir was already recognized as the future Duke of Malleus. And so he had awakened his Hammer powers.

At ten years old, this already made him a powerful fighter, even against adults.

But he had to train, to be able to face demons. These were nothing like ordinary humans.

-You don't have to participate in these tournaments anymore, by the way, Autem remarked, pouring them a glass of water. You're out of your league.

-Yeah... But it's more fun when it's just the two of us, right?

The two little boys smiled at each other. They had always been together since birth. While Autem loved his brother and sister, he had a special bond with Tamir. They didn't share the same blood or parents, but they both knew what it was like to be a Protector's son.

-Do you know what they say about you?

Ah, that aggressive voice... They turned to Gustave. He was with several of his buddies, who were flanking him with their arms folded, like the little punks they were. Relaxed, Tamir let Autem speak. He felt that his friend was much better with words than he was.

-Who are you talking to? inquired Rainier's son, kindly.

-Not the monster, he growled, pointing to Tamir with his chin.

The latter raised an eyebrow, without being formalized. His blood red eyes had always earned him this kind of remark. Atypical physiques tended to unleash hatred. However, uncle Lev was also atypical. Strangely enough, no one made this kind of remark to him.

He was rather called "the most handsome man in the kingdom". It was true that he was handsome, uncle. But above all, he was classy. And a model on which the two little boys often leaned.

- The monster? Tamir retorted with a sly smile. Boy, if you're talking about me, the next Duke of Malleus, the next Hammer of Gentem, you're in trouble.

If Gustave's face lost three shades, he said wickedly:

-Oh yeah? And why is that?

This time Tamir had no time to speak. A female voice whispered in Gustave's ear:

-Because in a few years, he'll be the one saving your ass from all the demons that are crawling around our doors.

This time, the Marquis' son became truly livid. While Autem and Tamir lost their composed look and exploded with joy.

-Auntie Vera!

-You're home!

Totally ignoring the rude one, they threw themselves at the Duchess, who greeted them with a small amused smile. Tall, with deep black hair identical to Flavia's, she had a beautiful face that often frowned. But never with the children of her friends.

-Hi, midgets! she exclaimed as she lifted them both off the ground, causing them to laugh.

-We're not penguins, Auntie!

- Really? she wondered. Have you grown in a month?

-But yes! Look at this! We gained at least ten centimeters with Tamir!

-I don't think so.

-Take out your Sword, let them prove it to you!

The two children had forgotten about the fights, the king Oktar who observed the scene with amusement. Vera had already gone to pay her respects to him, before coming to pick them up. They found out later, but their parents were busy with the affairs of their respective duchies, so they had asked her to pick them up. Nevertheless, she refrained from telling them about the state of the Shield. They were too young to worry about that.

All the spectators were looking at the trio, impressed by the presence of one of the Protectors. Especially since she was not known for her good nature, unlike Cara.

-We'll see about that.

Materializing her Sword, the Duchess leaned toward the children. This weapon was her size, including the guard. Heavy, this claymore was impossible for anyone else to wield. Like all Protector weapons. Uncle Lev's Shield was also unimaginably heavy.

This sword was double-edged. It was entirely silver and had arabesques on its flat side, making it a little less imposing. But the fact remained that the two ten-year-olds were still smaller than the weapon.

-Mmh... I'll give you that, you're outgrowing this arabesque, said Vera, pointing to one of the designs on the Sword. But Tamir took more than you, Autem.

-Pfff, I knew you were going to be taller than me anyway.

-Oh, you think he'll outgrow your dad?

Autem wrinkled his nose, while crossing his arms, looking very haughty.

-No one can be bigger than Dad!

Indeed, the colossal Duke of Hastam was one of the greatest men in the kingdom.

-Let's see! laughed Tamir. I will eat well and I will become as big and as strong as him!

-In that case, I'll work hard to be as smart as Uncle El! That way, I'll support you in the shadows!

-And I will protect you!

At these words, Vera smiled slightly sad. Ruffling the hair of both children, she wondered what hurt more. The mention of El, or the fact that Autem was already aware of his situation?

*

By all the gods, he felt like he had been put through the ringer.

Eyes glued to the ceiling, Lev wondered how anyone could be in so much pain and still be conscious. For fuck's sake, he couldn't sleep his way to full recovery! Ah... Eleazar would tell him that if he did that, he wouldn't walk for too long, and he'd be useless in battle. That pragmatic asshole.

Anyway, he felt an icy hand in his. Tightening his fingers on it, he turned his head, with a painful grunt. Considering what he'd taken, it was no wonder his neck hurt. At one point, he had been supporting the Shield with his arms as well as his shoulders and head.

It was stupid, but to a rotten situation rotten measures.

Ah... Flavia...

She had cried.

Curled up in a ball on the bed, she had kept her hand in his probably all night. Now bathed in daylight, she seemed exhausted in her sleep. Feeling guilty that she was like this because of him, he wanted to lift his free arm to stroke her hair.

A jolt of pain shot through his limb to his bones, nearly making him roll his eyes. He had to push a growl, because she opened at once her eyes.

-Lev! she exclaimed. Lev, are you okay?

-We'll... we'll say yes.

Worried, she got on all fours on the bed to inspect his bandages. It seemed that he had several. The leg? And the arm?

-Did I break something? he asked.

Seeing his wife waving on all fours, her cleavage moving to the rhythm of her movements, he thought that being a well-behaved patient could have its advantages. Especially when she turned around to grab something, giving him a wonderful view of her buttocks. Mmh... Yes, he was going to stay quiet for the moment.

-Broken, dislocated, out of place... You've done it all, Lev.

She came back to his face, to put her cool hand on his forehead. It felt good.

-Sorry to worry you.

Her expression tore at his heart. She looked like she was about to cry. With his able-bodied hand, he gently pushed back one of her locks from in front of her face.

-Don't worry, Flavia. I'll get better soon. It's not the first time this has happened to me. And it won't be the last time. I am a Protector, after all.

-That doesn't make me feel any better.

-Tell yourself that I am very solid.

-Stop testing your toughness, moron! And try to protect yourself!

- If I protect myself, it's the others who take, he sighed, letting his hand fall back, too heavy for him. I'm sorry, but this is something you're going to have to put up with, Flavia... If I hadn't done it this time, Cara would be dead.

He looked at her who was glaring at her. It was better than tears, right?

-What? It's better to be injured than dead, right?

- Lev Clypeus, you're not trying to make me feel guilty about my concern for you, are you?

Oops. She looked like she was about to hit him. Given his condition, he certainly couldn't dodge!

-Uh, no. I'm just asking you to look at things from my point of view, Flavia.

Looking away, she bit her lip. Had she been that scared? He had been unconscious when he returned here, so he didn't know what kind of show he had put on for his wife. Uncertain, he made an attempt at humor:

-Do I still look good?

She burst into a somewhat sobbing laugh.

-Yes, you are always so beautiful, imbecile! she made by taking his face between her hands, to kiss him gently.

Eleazar arrived around noon. With a waxy complexion, the Magician had had to use a lot of his power to help him the day before. In fact, he had come with other sorcerers. They were less powerful, but they did their part to heal Lev. They stayed four hours, giving him continuous care. The doctor had come too, to change his dressings and make sure there was no infection in his wounds. Of course not. He had been injured in the land of demons, after all.

Normally, no one was entitled to such treatment.

Using mages to heal himself was expensive, very expensive, and very controlled. But Lev was a Protector. He was needed on the front lines as soon as possible, so that he would break again and be patched up just as quickly.

He was exaggerating a bit, but that was the explanation for his pseudo privilege.

At the end of the day, he could put his foot down. He almost fell face first, but Rainier, who had joined them to check on him, caught him. He felt like a kid when he did that. But as it was not Flavia who was going to be able to carry him to the bathroom...

Rainier put him in the water, before leaving his place to his wife. Nevertheless, Flavia would only have to call him once they had finished, he was staying in the room.

-Are you the one who's going to undress me? said Lev, raising a naughty eyebrow.

- My husband, you've been wearing these for two days, she said with a big smile. I'm going to rip them off and burn them so much it smells like blood and sickness.

Falsely shocked, he tried to help her. The water never made undressing easy. But she had the solution: she cut everything on the spot.

His arm and leg were still fragile, so he would have to wait until the next day to walk. Apparently, the mages had implanted spells in his broken limbs to speed up the healing process internally.

It was tiring. So he fell asleep like a log.

*

Flavia stayed with Lev for a while, before deciding to leave the room. He was out of danger, which was a good thing. Exhausted, she thought she should go see Eleazar when her husband was better and thank him. What could please the magician? She should ask Vera.

In the meantime, she had her work cut out for her. After asking Gaston to inform the staff that Lev was doing better, she went to the Duke's office. There, she sat behind his desk to go over the papers. She had started to work on them the day before, just after the incident with Therese Clypeus. But she couldn't leave the pile of work behind.

This was not much different from what she did to manage her sister's estate.

Nevertheless, she was having a hard time focusing. She would check on Lev every five minutes. Gaston and Bea would come in to check on her. She managed to keep things under control, until a new commotion resounded in the lobby late in the afternoon.

Frowning, she stormed out, ready to shoot down the person who dared to speak so loudly. When she saw Irvin Clypeus and Therese downstairs, she couldn't believe her eyes. What the hell were they doing there?

- Get out of my way! roared her father-in-law, pushing Gaston.

So there...

-My son may be dead up there!

-That's enough.

Flavia's peremptory tone made all heads rise towards her, except for those of the guards who were blocking the way to Lev's parents.

-Lev is fine. You can go home.

-I demand to see him! her father thundered.

Frowning, Flavia quickly descended the stairs. How they knew Lev was in trouble, she did not know. But in their eyes, she saw no concern, no sorrow. Only a determination bordering on impatience. She didn't know what they were up to, and she didn't like it.

-Who are you to prevent me from seeing my son!?

-I am the Duchess, she snapped. And given how upset you are, you certainly won't be going to my husband's bedside.

-You little bitch! You have had your title for two days and you dare...

-Keep your voice down.

- You're just a dirty diamond sucker!

By screaming like that, he was going to wake Lev up! Given the treatments going on in her body, disturbing her husband was out of the question. And if she had to be unpleasant, she would be. Breaking through the guards' barrier, she planted herself in front of Irvin Clypeus, her eyes flashing.

The diamond-sucking bitch got here in part because of you, Irvin. If your lust for making your son unhappy with any unwanted marriage hadn't been so strong, I wouldn't have found myself here, facing you. And the problem for you is that I am on my husband's side. So shut up and get out of here.

-You're trying to kill my son! yelled his stepfather.

No, but what a comedian! There was not a trace of concern on his face.

-The Duke is fine. But this is my last warning: get out, or I'll get you out.

Behind her back, she could become the notched guards, ready to clear out the braying intruders. Therese Clypeus seemed to be drinking whey. Because she knew that it would come to the hands almost immediately.

Definitely, this generation with the easy slap. Flavia stood ready to take the blow... When a Shield planted itself in the hall floor, right between them. Irvin fell backwards with a howl, while Flavia raised her eyebrows.

At the top of the stairs, Lev looked at his father with a murderous look.

-What did I tell you last time, Father?

Livid, this last crawled back, terrorized. But what Flavia saw was the implacable look of her husband. He had had the same look in the fortress of the West.

-Kneel before your Duchess.

They ran away at an impressive speed, after having executed themselves. Therese included.

In the silence that followed, Flavia went up the stairs four by four, under the bewildered gaze of the employees and the guards. Her husband gave her a smile too innocent to be true, leaning on the railing. He was sweating profusely, a sign of a definite struggle against pain.

- Lev of Clypeus! You don't have to get up until tomorrow!

-Yes, but it was for a good cause.

-The good cause!? A slap against a broken leg again, do you really feel like it's a good alternative!? And you threw your shield with which hand!?

-The... the bad arm? It hurts a little...

-Lev... Go to bed!

-Okay... But I need help, he admitted.

Immediately soothed, Flavia helped him to pass her valid arm around his shoulder, in order to support him. They headed back to the room, watched by the people in the house. Lev was heavy, and it was obvious that he was in pain. They fell more than anything else onto the bed, where he rolled onto his back with an exhausted groan.

-Lev... I need you to explain your relationship with your parents because... I think I made a mistake, sighed Flavia as she lay down beside him.

-Oh? What did you do?

Summarizing the events with her mother-in-law and her father, she did not expect him to burst out laughing. This made her discover, by the way, that he still had a cracked rib.

-Oh, I so wish I could have seen Therese's face! My dear, you did exactly the right thing. Don't worry about it.

- Lev... I... I did a little in your style, but I don't have your confidence.

- It's normal, he laughs, patting her hip with his good hand. I've been dealing with them for so long that I have no filter with them. You, you're still nice.

- Well... So, tell me. I told you all about my father and his unparalleled love for me.

Her irony made him chuckle evilly, but he took the trouble to explain.

Lev was the youngest of the Clypeus family. They had several siblings, either born to his mother, Irvin's second wife, or to the others. Therese was his fourth wife. In fact, Lev had no ties to her. She was simply a new addition to his father's political list.

His powers were revealed at the age of ten. His grandfather, the previous Shield, was the first to see it. Until then, he had lived a perfectly normal life as a young man in the kingdom of Gentem. He had been loved and cherished by his mother and father.

Everything had changed with the discovery of his power.

His father began to hate him. At first he didn't understand why. But his grandfather had explained it to him. He was now the future Duke, a title Irvin could never claim. Jealousy had been eating away at his heart for a long time. Son of the Shield, father of the Shield. But he himself was nothing.

Absolutely nothing.

Ingamar of Clypeus had taken his ten-year-old grandson with him to his northern fortress. His mother followed him, leaving Irvin behind. The latter did not want to see his youngest son anymore. And the latter had no time to mourn his father's hatred. His grandfather's trainings were hard, violent. He taught him how to use the shield in all circumstances, making it an extension of his body, just like his arms and legs. His collection of scars began there.

But that was nothing compared to the fights outside.

At eleven, he landed on the battlefield. At twelve, he met the four successors, and they began to train together. Vera, Rainier, Cara, Eleazar and Lev had known each other for so long, fought together for so long, that their fighting reflexes became so strong that the grandparents could begin to retire.

At fifteen, the five of them were the only ones left to stand up to the demons.

The pressure that this implied was difficult for Vera to perceive. How could a fifteen year old child find himself with the fate of millions of Gentem's inhabitants in his hands? How many dead had Lev seen in the fighting? How many soldiers had he lost? How many times had he been wounded? His sacrificial body was proof of the hundreds of battles he had faced since he was a boy.

-Well, that's a summary of my life as a Protector, sighed Lev, stroking his wife's hair. The most annoying part of the story is my father's hatred. He's ruining my life, and he's found a strong ally in Therese. He's trying to get his hands on the power inherent in the title of Duke of Clypeus. Whether it's by controlling the servants here, or emptying my vault from time to time, or making political deals behind my back.

Flavia nodded. She was not particularly surprised by what he said.

-But, whatever I tolerated until now, I won't tolerate now.

-Hmm? Why is that?

Lev smiles at him.

- Because now I have you. My house is your house. And I want you to feel safe there.

Flavia blushes. He laughed while kissing her forehead, while promising her that in other circumstances, he would have tried to make love to her. He still spoke to him about his childhood. Of the sweetness of his mother. Of his pride to know him Shield, of his despair in front of his wounds. Of his immense respect for Irvin's father. Ingamar had never exactly been a gentle, loving grandfather. But Lev had always liked him. Because he was frank. No ulterior motives, no pretense. Just the raw truth.

She was beginning to understand where his character came from.

He told her about his grandfather's funeral. That was the day he officially became the new Shield in the eyes of Gentem. He remembered all those people, all those nobles who came to see him. They came to congratulate him.

It was at that moment that his reputation as a viper's tongue had begun.

How could anyone congratulate him on the day his grandfather died? His father was the first to congratulate him, reminding him that he was his father. He had not seen him for ten years at that time. Lev had never felt hatred for anyone before.

That day, by burying Ingamar of Clypeus, he had become the Shield of Gentem, but also the new Duke of Clypeus.

It was also the day of his father's first humiliation.

In front of King Oktar, his wife whom he had abandoned, and all the nobles, he had forced him to kneel before his new Duke, and to swear allegiance to him. To be treated as a vassal by his own son had ignited the embers of Irvin's hatred.

Flavia remembered that day. She was standing next to Vera, who had come to say goodbye to Ingamar. She remembered this teenager, of an exceptional beauty, with silver hair and purple shining with rage. This child who became a man in one go, standing alone in front of his grandfather's coffin.

She did not understand the tragedy that was taking place.

The definitive rupture between a father and his son.

Her mother couldn't bear to see it. She blamed herself for not being able to reunite them. She died a few days after Ingamar.

And Lev had found himself alone.

Without the Protectors, he explained, he would not be the man he was today. They were a family. They had always supported each other, for better or worse.

A family. Yes, Flavia could see that. The way they checked in on him, the way they cared about him. They were truly a family. But none of them could help him with his conflicting relationship with his father, who kept coming back to nag him again and again.

-All this to tell you, my little wife, that I don't blame you at all for your attitude towards these morons. On the contrary, I'm delighted.

She was relieved. And she promised herself that she would stand between those hypocrites and her husband. Besides... Straightening up abruptly in the bed, she put wide eyes on Lev.

-I forgot to tell you. I think there's a mole.