Vol. 3 Ch. 128

Leon took the wallet back from Will.

Looking up at him, Leon noticed that the previously smug thief no longer had his bravado. His lips were pale, sweat trickled down his face, and even though his pants were loose, anyone could see that his legs were trembling slightly.

It made sense, after all—a skilled thief eager to join the Lionheart Society would never expect to one day pickpocket the leader himself.

Leon sized him up, noting how young he looked, and asked, “How old are you?”

“E-eighteen…” Will stammered.

“Tell the truth,” Nacho interrupted sternly from the side.

Will quickly corrected himself, “Seventeen! My birthday’s in two months, and then I’ll be eighteen!”

“Oh, then shouldn’t you be in school? Why’d you drop out to become a thief?”

“Brother, let me clarify: my profession isn’t *thief*.” Will replied with a straight face.

Leon raised an eyebrow, glancing down at his recently recovered wallet. “So if you’re not a thief…what are you?”

“A noble bandit!”—“Ow!” Will yelped as Nacho smacked him on the back of his head.

“You read a couple of books and suddenly you’re a noble bandit? Nice try.”

Will scratched his nose, giving an embarrassed smile. “Alright, alright, fine. My dad got me a decent job recently, so ‘bandit’ is just… okay, okay, fine, it’s a *part-time* gig.”

Nacho scoffed and pretended to kick him, though Will skillfully dodged.

Leon chuckled, amused. He’d never heard of anyone who moonlighted as a thief. People like that usually only existed in strange comic books: a struggling office worker by day who transforms into a masked hero or a vengeful villain at night.

But a part-time thief? Now that was rare.

“If you’re this good at your side gig, you must be amazing at your real job, right?” Leon joked.

Will huffed, “It’s nothing, really, Brother. I’m just a night watchman at a warehouse.”

Before Leon could say anything, Nacho chimed in with a snicker, “Asking you to guard a warehouse is like asking a monkey to watch over a peach orchard.”

“Hey, Nacho, that’s not fair,” Will protested.

“Oh? How should I put it then?”

“I’m way smarter than a monkey!” Will declared proudly.

Nacho shook his head, covering his face.

This was one of the reasons he didn’t want Will joining the Lionheart Society. Despite his potential, the kid was impulsive, a little too enthusiastic, and always half-joking.

Recently, Nacho had dug into Will’s background. Born and raised in the Empire, he came from a family in the lower district. Through his father’s efforts, they’d managed to climb into the middle district and start a small business. But, as everyone knew, doing business in the Empire meant you might make a little money, but the Empire never lost.

Without connections or power, people like Will’s family were the first to be squeezed dry by the Empire.

In theory, Will was a suitable candidate for the Lionheart Society.

But this overly eager kid… was just a bit too hot-headed.

“What kind of warehouse would hire you as a guard?” Nacho asked. “Isn’t your reputation as the ‘thief extraordinaire’ well known in the middle district?”

“Locals know me as a noble bandit, but outsiders don’t. This warehouse isn’t run by the middle district; it’s a temporary setup on royal land, right here in the middle district.”

Pausing, Will’s tone turned indignant. “It really ticks me off. They’ve taken up middle district land, yet the rent they pay is only half the usual rate. They call it an ‘honor to serve the Empire.’ Pfft! One day, I’ll burn down that warehouse myself.”

*Royalty, middle district, temporary warehouse.*

Leon and Rosvisser exchanged a quick, knowing glance.

“What’s stored in that warehouse?” Leon asked.

“Oh, these,” Will said, pulling a folded paper lantern from his pocket.

Since the Lantern Festival required so many lanterns, they were designed to be foldable for easy transport and storage. You just had to open them up on either side to use them.

“Looks like the monkey made it into the peach orchard,” Nacho commented dryly. “I’m guessing this isn’t the only one you took?”

“Nacho, I swear, I only took one!”

“Uh-huh?”

“…Fine, five.”

“Keep going.”

“…Around a dozen or so. Look, no one’s going to notice a few missing lanterns with that huge stash in there.”

Will explained, “I planned to sell a few of them as compensation for the Empire’s rental ‘payment’ to us.”

“Your imagination is something else,” Nacho said, rolling his eyes.

“Right, Nacho?”

“Stand over there, kid.”

“Aww…”

Will hung his head and shuffled off to the side.

Nacho stepped over to Leon, speaking in a low voice.

“I bet you’re thinking what I’m thinking.”

Leon glanced at Will, who was idly kicking a pebble on the ground.

“After you mentioned him last night, I asked Rebecca. She said his background was tough to trace, and I’m concerned he might crumble under pressure and betray us,” Leon said, voicing his concerns.

While he didn’t dislike this brash, self-proclaimed bandit, Leon couldn’t afford to let personal feelings cloud his judgment in such critical matters.

“He won’t betray us,” Nacho replied. “It was tricky, but I managed to dig up his background. Other than his age and his hot-headedness, he’s got what it takes to join us.”

“Is that so…” Leon mused.

“So, what do you say?” Nacho asked. “This is our quickest way to get the lanterns.”

Leon thought for a moment before giving clear instructions.

“Bring a small team tonight—don’t take too many people. We don’t want to risk any unexpected incidents that could compromise the Society.”

“Got it. And we should bring enough recording stones. We won’t need to steal the lanterns; we’ll hide the recording stones inside the lanterns in the warehouse, then conceal them with illusion magic. That’ll save a lot of time.”

“Also, tally up the lanterns we’ve collected from other sources. Our goal is to cover all the Empire’s districts.”

Nacho nodded. “Understood. I’ll get it done by 3 a.m.”

With his orders clear, Nacho walked over to Will, sharing a few words with him. Will leapt into the air, fists pumping in excitement.

“Thanks, Nacho! And thank you, Brother Leon, for this opportunity!” Will called, waving enthusiastically at Leon.

“Alright, move along,” Nacho nudged him toward the alley’s exit.

“Wait, Brother Leon isn’t coming with us?” Will asked.

“Of course not. Have you ever seen a leader fighting on the front lines?”

“Oh, true.”

The two figures slowly disappeared into the crowd.

Rosvisser looked over at Leon, her eyes filled with amusement.

“To be honest, I thought you’d handle this yourself.”

Leon shrugged. “You taught me that a leader doesn’t have to personally handle every single task.”

“But you also have to—”

“—also be prepared to take full responsibility if the plan fails,” Leon interrupted with a smile.

“Hmph. Seems you’ve got it all memorized.”

A good leader never competes with their followers for credit.

Take the warehouse plan, for instance.

Leon was in charge of strategizing and decision-making, while the Society members would carry it out.

If the plan succeeded, it would be the collective achievement of both Leon and the Lionheart Society.

But if it failed, Leon wouldn’t place the blame on Nacho or anyone else.

As he’d discussed with Rosvisser, this was the pressure on a leader’s shoulders. He would bear the full weight of any failure.

And Rosvisser would always be by his side.

“So, what should we do now?” Rosvisser asked.

Leon thought for a moment. “Let’s go see Teacher Caroline.”

...

**At the Casmod Orphanage**

Children and several nuns were busy carrying two large boxes of paper lanterns to the entrance.

“Thank you for your hard work, children! We’re having a stew for dinner tonight!” one of the nuns announced.

“Yay!”

“Teacher Caroline is the best!”

Cheering, the kids ran off to the dining hall, eagerly anticipating their rare yearly treat.

Caroline turned her gaze from the children to Leon, who stood at the doorway.

“These are the paper lanterns you ordered, sir. We stayed up late to finish them,” she said warmly.

“Thank you, Teacher Caroline.”

Caroline looked at Leon, her old friend in disguise. Even in just that brief moment, she felt a deep sense of comfort.

She didn’t know exactly what Leon was planning.

But as Sister Sharon had said, “Brother Leon is back, and we’re safe.”

“Teacher Caroline!”

They turned to see Sister Sharon running toward them, clutching a paper lantern.

“I… I just finished the last lantern! Please, Brother Leon—sir, take it!”

Sharon held out the lantern with both hands.

This one was already opened.

Around the outer surface were the names of every teacher, nun, and child at the Casmod Orphanage, packed together in tiny script, filling nearly every inch.

But at the very top, one line had been left blank.

It held only a single name:

*

Leon Casmod.*

“This lantern is…” Leon began.

“It’s a memento, sir!” Sharon explained excitedly. “Everyone wrote their names on it, and at the very top… well, that name is…”

Overwhelmed with excitement, Sharon stumbled over her words.

Leon noticed the single name written neatly at the top of the lantern.

Judging by the handwriting, Teacher Caroline herself must have written it.

At that moment, Leon understood.

Could it be… that they had already recognized him?

“He is our hero, sir,” Teacher Caroline said, gently placing her hand over Sharon’s to hold the lantern a little closer to Leon.

“He was in the past, he is now, and he always will be in the future.”

“So please, accept this lantern. It carries the hopes of everyone at the Casmod Orphanage.”

Leon was certain now.

But this wasn’t the time for reunions; too many eyes were watching. Once everything was over, there would be time for embraces.

Looking at the lantern filled with names, his gaze softened, and his hands trembled slightly as he reached out to accept it.

“Thank you, Teacher Caroline. And thank you, Sharon.”

“You’re welcome, sir.”

After a brief pause, Caroline spoke, smiling but with a tone of solemnity.

“May you find victory on the battlefield.”

As a nun, she rarely said those words.

In fact, there had been only one person to whom she had ever said them in parting.

His name was Leon, the most outstanding child she had ever taught.