Wylfred and Ansel arrived at the battlefield, where they had apparently missed a battle.

"Another failure. Dammit!" Wylfred threw his sword on the ground, then picked it up again. "However…This battle was recent, so the Battle-maiden must be lurking around nearby. Although we're living humans, so we can't see her." And indeed, Wylfred could not see her, for he was an ordinary human.

"Yeah, I can see her, she's right there," said Ansel, pointing. Sure enough, from his point of view, the valkyrie stood about 20 feet away, calmly picking souls as though she were picking flowers. The truth was, Ansel could see Valkyrie because he had a secret that will be revealed later.

But his answer annoyed Wylfred, who couldn't accept the fact that maybe some people could do things he could not. "NO, you can only see her if you're a god, an elf, an einherjar, or one of the undead!"

"But—"

"EVEN THOUGH WE CAN'T SEE HER, WE KNOW SHE MUST BE HERE." Wylfred continued to rudely talk over Ansel until the sweet man finally gave up, and the two began to walk across the battlefield.

--

Meanwhile, a certain familiar blond character was about to make his first appearance in Valkyrie Profile: The Accused One.

"I love you!" proclaimed Lezard Valeth, who had bleached his hair because it was EDGY and COOL. "But when I say I love you…I don't mean your face. It looks like a spit grill. Don't spit, that's not ladylike. I'm talking about your hot, ball-busting body." He then tossed away the object he held in his hands, which was a large centerfold of Mystina in high heels and a black bikini. Several well-built, good-looking men dressed in nothing but loincloths sprang forward to retrive it.

In order to boost ratings, Lezard had traded out Bellion for a dozen or so brawny men. They all more or less looked and acted the same, they were none too bright, and their names all started with "B," the only exception being Pool Boy. Most of them lusted after Mystina, although a couple wanted to hook up with one of his homunculi, and a few wanted Lezard himself.

Lezard had undergone even more changes. Instead of a teleportation spell, he got around in a big red convertible. And his outfit was entirely different It was almost completely made of latex: for the top he wore a bright red jacket with a zipper down the front. He wore the zipper halfway down so everyone could check out his chest. On the bottom he wore a pair of tight, tight purple pants that kind of sparkled. On his feet were a pair of black sharp-toed boots. The only accessories that actually suggested "Lezard" were his glasses and a pair of black leather gloves similar to the ones he wore in the second game.

"Of course," he continued, "there is one women to whom I can say…I love your face! I love your voice! I even love your personality! I really, truly love you! Now, gentleman, what is the name of that woman?"

"LENNETH VALKYRIE!" they all thundered, trying to hit that magical spot between "enthusiastic enough to win the young master's approval" and "not so enthusiastic that he'll think we're interested in her."

None of the men were interested in Lenneth, for nobody who loved the silver-haired valkyrie would ever join forces with or work for Lezard Valeth.

Lezard didn't know it, but he was treading on very thin ice. He'd crossed the gods before, and they had punished him by giving him the fashion sense of a color blind 80's fashion designer. Who knew what horrors would await him if he pissed them off again?

Arngrim and Jelanda hadn't managed to get very far before they were ambushed by a monster. They could have killed it just by poking it, but this was a great time to introduce the player to the battle mode. So after a very long tutorial that pointed out the obvious at every turn, the monster died.

"Arngrim, don't you have a brother or something?" asked Jelanda. "Let's go see him."

"That's where I'm going!" Arngrim snapped. But he was just in a bad mood. He liked Jelanda because she wasn't like other princesses. Most princesses sang songs and talked to animals. She, on the other hand, swore and torched animals with her Fire Storm. "Dammit, kid, where did you think I was going to take you?"

"I was hoping we'd leave Artolia and go on an adventure to look for the Dragon Orb or some other wonderful artifact."

"Hell, no. If I get caught up in that shit again, I'm leaving the fandom forever."

Artolia was a pretty boring country. Even the capital city, Artolia, was so uninteresting it was sad. The "finest" restaurant served Yamato cuisine, and was usually a place for Artolians to gawk and faint at the "weird" food. But it was perfect for a depressed painter who hated his life. Thus, it was where they found Roland.

"Why are we assuming this is the same time period as the first game?" asked Roland. "It could be earlier, or even later!"

"Well…The gameplay looks like the first game!" Jelanda pointed out.

Arngrim had had enough. He pounded the table as hard as he could with both fists, spilling the sake and also breaking the table. "STOP BREAKING THE FOURTH WALL!"

The manager of the restaurant billed him 50,000 OTH.

--

"BATTLE-MAIDEN VALKYRIE!" shouted Wylfred, waving his sword in the air like a maniac. "I AM HERE TO GET REVENGE ON YOU! I MEAN, PLEASE KILL ME AND MAKE ME AN EINHERJAR!"

This had been the fifth time he shouted this, and the third time he'd needed to correct himself.

"She's gone, you know," Ansel informed him.

"Shut up!" Wylfred yelled, turning on his friend. "You can't possibly know that because humans can't see her!"

"Wylfred…I have something to tell you." Ansel looked gently into his friends eyes and leaned his face forward.

"Wait a minute." Wylfred narrowed his eyes and stepped away. "You're not trying to tell me…you're in love with me? I mean, I know my two ponytails make me quite the sexy beast, but I don't want to ruin our friendship."

Ansel sighed. He's in denial. "No, Wylfred. The truth is…I'm your guardian angel."

--

"An angel," Lezard sighed happily as one of the men combed his blond hair. He didn't really like being touched by his manservants, but he figured it was better than giving them money. Besides, the last game had been sorely lacking in fan service for females. "She's like…an angel, Barry."

"I'm Bernard, sir."

"Whatever." The only name he remembered was "Pool Boy," because it was different from the rest. "You're one of the ones who wants a homunculus, right?"

"Yes, sir."

"Well then, you may accompany me to the graveyard tonight. I need a heart."

Yes, you do, thought Bernard as he began to weave little flowers into his master's hair.

"Billy, what have I told you about putting flowers in my hair?" Lezard demanded. The man missed nothing.

"Sir, we do not even have a Billy here," Bernard reminded him. He was a little older than the rest of the manservants, and felt no need to let this youngster boss him around.

"Of course." Lezard sighed, then plucked the flowers out of his hair. "The sun shall soon set. You, Buster, and Belinda shall accompany me to the graveyard."

"Belinda is a girl's name, sir."

"Then bring Pool Boy. And that new guy, Barney, just in case we need the extra help."

Meanwhile, Wylfred and Ansel had met up with some trouble.

Wylfred was just getting used to the idea of Ansel being his "freakin' guardian angel" when they were attacked by harpies. And when I say "harpies," I don't mean those freaky bird women from the first game—I'm talking about insane fangirls who had already begun writing yaoi fanfiction about every male in the game paired up with every other male in the game.

"Can I have your autographs?" asked one.

"I think that two ponytails hairstyle you have is really deep," another informed Wylfred.

"I wrote this fanfic about the two of you," gushed a third. "I'd be absolutely—"

"NIBELUNG VALESTI!"

As the ladies were sent to the special hall of Valhalla for fanfic writers (Lusrheim), their almost-victims looked up at the figure standing above them…and gasped.