Welcome to chapter eleven, I have envisioned this chapter for months, as it is one of the main climaxes for this story. So much awaits read on my friends.
-Village of Rothaire-
The glow from the flames shined in the night, echoing with distant screams and shouts. Terror and fear for the villagers gripping his heart Gareth shouted, "TO ARMS! The village is burning!" Grabbing his helmet Gareth placed the cool steel upon his head. Resisting the impulse to run directly into the village he continued shouting orders, "This is not a drill we leave in five minutes, weapons and armor are the priority. Caleb, I want you and Zella to bring all the healing items we have, there won't be time to return." Securing his own weapons Gareth made a few adjustments to his armor, which had become slightly skewed during his restless slumber. Armor secured, Gareth began making his way to the edge of camp shouting orders to hurry. By the time he reached the edge of the camp nearly all his soldiers had gathered, only Karen and her mounted raiders were late, though it seemed that even in the rush to arm themselves someone had remembered to grab the unit's banner.
Passing a quick look over his soldiers Gareth found that most had a look of panic and fear on their faces, readying himself and calming the panic that was building in himself as the screams grew louder and more numerous he forced a fierce expression onto his face. "Soldiers of Nohr, there is no time for speeches of courage and valor, there is only time to act. Leave your fear and doubts behind, tonight we fight not for glory. Tonight, we fight to defend the innocent! Trust in your comrades and we will make it through this battle." Though most of the soldiers were still nervous, they had found their courage at the reminder of what was at stake. Sword raised Gareth set the pace at a quick march and led his platoon onwards towards the burning village. He had to resist the urge to break his unit into a full run. They needed to reach the village quickly, but he needed them to be ready to fight anything once they arrived. The screams and shouts became louder as they neared the village, soon even the soldiers began to hear the anguished cries. Faces hardened to stone, and Gareth knew that his platoon's courage would not break.
Minutes away from the village Karen and her riders finally appeared, both they and their horses armed and armored. Reining her horse, Karen slowed her mount beside Gareth. Turning a harsh glare on his Commander, causing the mounted commander to grimace in acknowledgement of her own slow pace, Gareth relayed his orders. "You and your raiders are to make your way through the festival area, saving whoever you can and killing any enemies you find. Be cautious though, the performers very well might be part of this attack. Ascertain the truth and then make your way around the village and attack from the Eastern gate." With a hard look in her eyes Karen nodded and spurred her horse onwards gathering her troops and veering off the road towards the burning tent that shined like a torch in the night.
Approaching the Western gate, Gareth quickly put together a rough battle plan. Voice raised he called out, "I want the archers and the banner guard with me, we will head down the main street clear out the village center of enemies and hold it! Caleb you're coming with us. Once we enter the village Alicia and Jarred your force will make your way south killing any enemies you find and rescuing anyone you can, tell them to head to the village center where my force will keep them safe! Darren, I want you and Ranaul to take your men and head north and do the same! Take heart soldiers, and remember we are the shield of Norh!" With that, Gareth drew Caelus and his broadsword and charged leading his men into battle.
Approaching the still burning tent, Karen and her five mounted troops, took in the sight of the once bright festival grounds. The tent's colorful cloth had already burned to ashes, leaving only the tent poles and their support ropes still burning slowly like tall skeletal bones in the night sky. The wagons surrounding the tent were ablaze illuminating the battlefield revealing dozens of dead bodies, both human and animal. The performers and their beasts lay in pools of their own blood, their corpses riddled with cuts and stab wounds from swords, spears and arrows.
The scene reminded Karen of that fateful ambush so long ago. Refusing to let more people die she spurred her horse forward, convinced that the performers had also been victims of these heartless raiders. Riding onto the field Karen heard the sounds of battle, steel clashing with steel on the other side of the burning tent, guiding the horse towards the noise Karen raised her lance signaling her riders trying to navigate through the dead.
Rounding the tent, Karen saw a ring of troops armed with spears and simple armor chanting and laughing with cruel jeers at whatever was happening in the middle. With a flick of her hand, Karen set her lance and picked her target. Urging her beast into a gallop Karen heard the sound of her own forces behind her, trusting them to do as she had instructed she focused. Seconds later the ring was broken as the Nohrian cavalry smashed through the left and right edges of the ring taking six or more men down with their first pass. As she passed through the broken ring Karen saw two of the performers engaged in combat with some of the raiders. An older man with a pair of knives in hand and with a belt carrying more blades was engaged with a raider protected with an iron breastplate sporting a heavy katana, while a younger man wielding two steel broadswords was holding off of a pair of spearmen.
Swinging her steed around Karen prepared for another charge, intending to aid the young boy, yet she found that he had already killed one of his attackers during the chaos of her first charge and was driving the other warrior back with aggressive strikes from his two blades. Trusting the lad to handle himself Karen turned her attention towards the fleeing raiders. Urging her mount forward Karen ran down one of the raiders, letting her beast's momentum do the work she skewered another, his body taking her spear with it. Irritation flaring, Karen drew her sword and with but a touch of her knees she sent her horse harrying after the rest.
In the remains of the broken ring Dastan had finally ended the second spearman, turning he dashed to help his father who was blocking slash after slash with his largest knives tucked against his forearms, but he was steadily being driven back by his opponent. Ignoring the blood that flowed down his arm from a glancing thrust, Dastan hurried towards the fight. He was desperate to help his father, whose blood was dripping from several cuts and slashes over his body. With a roar the young acrobat leapt into the fight. Hearing the noise of his approach, the murderer spun around to meet this new danger, ignoring the weakening man now behind him. Swords sung through the air as Dastan's twin blades began to overwhelm the raider.
His two swords seemingly coming from every direction put the man off balance as a look of panic began to emerge on his face. As Dastan was about to disarm the murderer, suddenly a knife embedded itself in the raider's neck. The murderer's eyes grew wide as his blade was wrenched from his hands. His now free hands wildly clutched at his collar, as a gush of red blossomed as the knife was pulled from his neck. Turning aside from the sight, Dastan checked for any nearby threats and seeing none nearby he sheathed his bloody blades and reached his injured father as he began to collapse.
"Father! It'll be alright. The soldiers are here. We can get you to a healer." Dastan spoke his voice filled with pleading.
With a weak smile the elder performer laid his hand on his son's shoulder. "Don't worry, I'm not going anywhere yet. Now help me up, let's see if we can find Helah and Jeriah, they had to have made it."
Taking his father's arm Dastan hoisted the man to his feet and with his arm around his torso began to lead him away from the battlefield passing corpses of both murderers and friends. Looking at the dead in the fire light, Dastan's hope of finding his mother and younger brother began to vanish. There was so much blood on the field that he could feel it running downhill soaking his bare and blistered feet as he walked onwards. "Father I d-"
"Don't say it boy. I won't believe it until I see their bodies. I expect we'll see them soon, don't you worry son."
Clinging to the shred of hope his father offered, Dastan guided them around the burning tent. The sight that lay before was even worse. Dozens of bodies lay in the dirt, the scale of death was horrifying. Just ahead was Rosella who taught him how to soar on the ropes. Over there was old man Mauro who was the best juggler in the festival despite his arthritis. On the edge of the flames in a once white silk shift was the pretty singer Oriana from Cyrkensia who had joined their company for both the adventure and the love of Miguel their announcer. Anger and sorrow welled up bringing tears to his ash covered face Dastan kept hold of his father as he numbly passed the bodies of his friends and loved ones. So blinded by his emotions, Dastan failed to notice the shape of a man hunched over a body.
"Hey you there!" Dastan's father shouted grabbing Dastan's attention and focusing it on the shape ahead. The shape jolted and turned, its hands fumbling for the ties of his pants. Rage sparked within him at the figures actions. Grabbing a knife with his free hand he threw the blade at the shadow.
Stumbling back the figure tripped and fell, but could not avoid the knife as it embedded in his thigh. With a pained snarl, the man with his face dirty and his eyes dark with hate grabbed a bow and nocked an arrow and let loose. Instincts born into every father demanded action. In spite of his weakened body, he turned as he threw his son behind him.
The indignant squawk his boy made became horrified silence as the arrow pierced the body of his father. As he faced his son, Cyrus, the knife thrower offered one last smile to his boy as he crumpled to his knees as the feathered shaft embedded in his chest stole his breath away.
Horror in his eyes, Dastan's attention shifted to the archer his face transforming into a terrible visage of vengeance. With a primal shout, Dastan lunged past his father drawing both swords. As the enemy began to nock another arrow, he attacked with swift strikes. Cutting the archer's gripping hand with one sword and shattering the bow with the other, he quickly followed up and impaled the man with both his swords. Wrenching the steel from his dying body Dastan felt the man's hot blood splash over his body. Spitting at the man, Dastan turned to leave when he saw what the man had been doing to the body of Cira. Red hot rage shot through him at the man's defilement of his friend's body. Turning back Dastan repeatedly slashed with his swords leaving the dying man howling in pain.
His father flashed back into his mind. Crossing back to his father Dastan saw that he had faded away. His body was still recognizable, but it was clearly missing his spirit. The once familiar and lively form of his father had become still and ashen. The blood loss and wounds were too much and now he was truly gone.
Despair welling, Dastan searched for something anything. A glimpse of blue caught his eye.
Turning with dread in his heart he stumbled over to what remained of his younger brother and mother. With tears in his eyes, Dastan stood over the bodies overwhelmed. His mind awash with disbelief and horror Dastan could only stare helplessly at their bodies.
His brother, so bright, so stubborn was dead. Mother had died trying to protect her youngest. Thoughts and memories whirled through his head, tears fell to the ground as his hope lay dead at his feet. The sound of hooves eventually broke him out of his thoughts. Looking up he found himself facing the mounted soldiers who had helped break the ring earlier.
Karen looked on the lad before her with sympathy, wanting nothing more to let the boy mourn those he lost, but she needed information. "Tell me lad what happened here."
Looking at the woman with a bitter and lost expression Dastan snapped out. "What do you think happened?! We were attacked by a bunch of murderers, they killed everyone! The beasts, my family, our leader! Who are they? Why did they do this?!"
"By their armor and weapons, I'd say that these are Hoshidans, though I won't bother guessing why they attacked innocents. Look there's nothing you can do here, go west and find our camp you'll be safe there!" Karen ordered as she wheeled her stallion around and galloped off towards the East gate.
Watching the soldiers leave Dastan looked towards the village and heard the cries of terror and anguish. People were dying at the hands of these murders, lives stolen by these dastards. With one last look at his family behind him he sheathed his blades and ran towards the wall scaling it in seconds before leaping into the chaos that was Rothaire. "I won't let them get away with this."
Upon reaching the western gate Gareth's forces found the gate guarded by a few raiders. Seeing the large armed platoon approaching the three raiders quickly fled into the village to escape, but there would be none. With grim purpose, Rordan and his archers nocked arrows and felled the men, their backs bristling with black arrows. The enemy guards eliminated, Gareth looked to the sides of the gate and saw the golem stone tablets had been shattered. A few bodies told the tale that they at least killed a few before being destroyed. Entering the village, the platoon split into three sections, Gareth led his men and women through the main street towards the village center. Passing the dying men Gareth paused and drew near to one.
Kneeling Gareth gripped the man's filthy hair and jerked his head up painfully demanding his attention. The questions upon his lips died as he stared into a face he had not seen in ten years. "Hoshido." At his words violent curses sounded from his soldiers. Disgust and disbelief filled Gareth. The thought that his homeland would launch an attack on innocent civilians was almost too much to bear. Leaving the man to die in the dust Gareth stood to his feet as his archers wrenched the arrows from the enemy bodies. He did his best to push aside the confusing and conflicting emotions swirling within. No matter what he would protect these villagers. He would have to deal with the aftermath later.
Turning he found his soldiers regarding the fallen Hoshidans with spite and hate in their eyes. Gripping his sword tightly, he motioned his troops further into the village. The sounds of occasional combat pierced the night air as his forces began to challenge the Hoshidan raiders they met. Eyes scanning for danger, the squad advanced towards the center of the village where the houses burned brightly. "Search every house as we go!" Gareth ordered. "I won't have the Hoshidans striking at our backs!" Marching forth the group cleared the buildings quickly, several of which burst open with teary-eyed terrified civilians.
Within minutes, Gareth's group found themselves escorting a dozen villagers. Approaching the village center, they started to encounter more raiders hunting for victims. Their blades bloody and their faces dark. Expecting unarmed villagers, they swiftly met their end at the hands of Nohrian steel.
Breaking into the village center Gareth and his group found themselves in a ring of fire as all the buildings surrounding the now broken statue of King Rayner were ablaze. Ahead was a large group of Hoshidans dragging plunder from the houses, most of it splashed with dark blood. Worse, they were dragging screaming children and young women with them, their grips harsh and bruising. Though they were far away, the terror on their faces was abundantly clear.
Rage washed over the squad. Roaring, Gareth slashed with Caelus releasing a bolt of lightning at the forefront man. His cry of warning became a scream of pain that was quickly cut short as his body fell to the dirt smoking and still. Now aware of a threat, the raiders dropped their prizes and charged at the small Nohrian squad, their blood lust clouding their thoughts.
Arrows flew striking bodies quickly crippling or killing the target. When the banner guard clashed with what was left of the raiders, the result was as quick as it was brutal. Swords and spears turned aside the enemies' weapons. With ruthless efficiency, blades were plunged into the enemies' bodies. Gareth found himself fighting two ruffians, their attacks undisciplined. The green haired Lieutenant side stepped the wild slashes and with a swift counter he brought his sword up. Nearly cleaving the man's arm off, he wrenched the blade away causing blood to gush forth as he fell to his knees. Gareth deflected the other man's slash with Caelus. With his full attention on his remaining opponent Gareth began to rip the man apart. Caelus flashed in the night, lightning coursing and crackling down the dagger's blade as it sung through the air biting deep. Soon it was covered in red along with his broadsword.
Turning from the dead and dying enemies Gareth searched for another opponent. There on the other side of the broken statue was a man standing tall in light black armor covered with blades of all sizes. With a venomous glare thrown towards Gareth, the blade covered man retreated into one of the side alleys, a strange knife in hand. Gareth sensed the man would be trouble. Unlike the other raiders they've met thus far, he carried himself with years of experience. Shaking the thought away Gareth turned and looked at the prisoners the raiders were planning to take. Huddled together with their eyes closed in terror and tears streaming down their faces, the sight pulled at the soldiers' hearts. Directing his men to take the young ones over to the other rescued civilians Gareth turned to the Dragon Vein thrumming with power.
Approaching the vein Gareth heard the silent roars of Halriar, angered at the shedding of his people's blood. Stepping into the river of power Gareth could feel the ancient dragon's rage flooding him nearly overwhelming him. Reaching deep into the vein Gareth tried to grab the power flooding through the vein, but Halriar's anger and pride were stirred which made it difficult to even reach let alone command. Raising his eyes to the terrified and expectant civilians, Gareth snarled and with a roar thrust Caelus into the vein. Immediately Gareth felt Halriar react to this focused reach. Halriar's roars of rage became one of shock and even fear. Taking advantage of the dragon's momentary lapse of focus, Gareth drew as much power as he could from the vein. Light erupted beneath Gareth's feet enveloping the village center in a warm golden light. Reaching deeper, Gareth drew still more power causing the light to flare brighter still outshining the surrounding flames. Suddenly Gareth raised his hand and the earth beneath his feet moved.
Rumbling and cracking the earth rose quickly and steadily beneath the Lieutenant's feet. In seconds the lad was standing on a wide hill as large as the entire village center and was looking into second-story windows. Still the earth continued to rise higher and higher until the hill towered over the roofs of the village and its walls. Looking down from his perch with the power of the First Dragons still flowing fiercely in his veins, Gareth saw not the awed and stunned looks from the civilians and his soldiers below, but the fires raging all over the village. The cries of panic from the town fueled his determination.
His face set, Gareth raised Caelus to the sky and poured power into the blade. Above, the clouds gathered and darkened heeding the boy's call. With a shout a bolt of golden lightning, brighter than any before flew from the dagger and danced among the clouds. Large rain drops began to fall, spaced so that one could almost walk between the drops. The rain intensified, as the lightning sparked and arced between the clouds…waiting.
Walking down the newly created hill Gareth saw the looks in his people's eyes and began shouting orders, spurring both the civilians and the soldiers to action. "Rordan, I want you and the archers on the hill providing protection and covering fire for the villagers! Villagers make your way to the top and wait there until the battle is over! Caleb, you stay with the civilians, in this case you'll do the most good here!" As the civilians rushed up the hill tripping as they climbed, Gareth made his way to Rordan. Grabbing the platoon's banner and handing it to the archer. "Whatever you do make sure that those people are safe. Any villagers that enter the village center are to climb the hill."
"Understood sir."
"Lydia, Neil, and Bryn you go and search for villagers in the north, bring them here. Paul and Sean are with me! Stick together and watch each other's backs." Gareth ordered, dispersing his banner guard.
Across the village along the Northern wall, things were starting to become difficult. The alleys of the village were quickly becoming convoluted and narrow necessitating the squads to split into groups of two or three soldiers. Darren's squads quickly worked on holding a clear path to the village center while Ranaul and his forces pushed deeper into the web of alleys and buildings. With most of the fire confined to the village center and the southern regions, the area Ranaul and his forces found themselves in was dark.
Looking around nervously, Marren clutched her spear and shield tight as she tried to keep her courage. Though she had proven herself during training and the final practice battle with Lieutenant Edmund's own platoon, this was entirely different. The screams that tore through the air chilled her blood causing her to fall deeper into her fear.
Approaching another alley Marren and her partner, Richard, raised their shields together, Marren silently cursing how her shield shook with her nerves, as opposed to the steely grip of her fellow soldier. Glancing over, Marren felt her nerves calm a bit. He was the only reason she hadn't broken and fled the field of battle.
Like her, he had carried the brand of coward, but here he stood steady nonetheless. It irritated her that he was conducting himself like a proper soldier while she marched along struggling to keep that terror from overwhelming her. The alley was thankfully empty, but the sounds of combat had begun. Steel clashed with steel, the sound ringing through the air driving home the knowledge once more that tonight, blood was being spilled.
A crash from inside the next house over grabbed their attention. Quickly trying the door and finding it unlocked the pair entered in with blades drawn and shields readied. Inside was a Hoshidan raider. His armor ratty and nothing more than a rusty breastplate, but in his hands were two long curved daggers. The blades already dripping with red. Against the wall with fear in their eyes was an elderly couple, the man's hair was graying and though he was terrified, he stood before his wife determined to protect her and the young child she clutched to her breast though it meant his death.
The sight recalled Lieutenant Gareth's words, "A soldier's job is to protect the lives of the innocent at all costs, not save his own hide." Though the fear still called at the edges of her mind, Marren steeled herself and with a cry joined Richard in his assault on the startled raider.
The fight was short and violent. Stabbing at him, Marren realized that her spear was ill suited to such close quarter fighting. The intruder parried her thrust and began to slash at Marren. She focused on blocking the intruders strikes. Slashes rained down and Marren's shield met nearly every strike. One slipped past and was absorbed by her armor leaving her unharmed. The Hoshidan paid for his focus, as Richard's blade cut deep into his leg. He stumbled as he attacked. Marren blocked the weak slash. Using the opening, she struck his face with edge of her shield causing a sickening crack. Shock threatening to settle in, Marren turned from the dead Hoshidan. His head twisted sharply with blood pooling from both his leg wound and the gash her shield had left. Across the room the elderly civilians regarded her and Richard with both gratitude and apprehension.
"It's okay, we're soldiers of Nohr. Follow us and we'll get you to safety." Richard spoke his voice somehow far calmer than her own would have been.
"Is there anywhere safe?" The woman asked with tears of relief pouring down her face as she looked to the soldiers with hope in her eyes.
Touched at the faith she saw in their eyes Marren nodded reassuringly, her voice oddly shrill to her ears. "Our Lieutenant wants all the villagers to go to the village center where he can protect you."
"Safe?" A small voice asked.
Turning her gaze to the small child no older than five held tightly in the arms of the elderly woman, Marren felt her heart clench. The girl's large brown eyes looked at her pleading with hope. Were they even a minute later in arriving, everyone here would have died, victims of this wretched night. "I promise, Lieutenant Gareth taught us all what it means to protect others. He'll keep you safe." Marren spoke her voice strong like Richard's.
Assured, the three quickly followed Marren and Richard out of the house where they immediately felt the earth rumble. Cursing at another thing going wrong tonight, her curses were quickly cut off as a hill began to rise above the rooftops. At the peak was a figure standing in a ring of warm golden light. Awe arose within her at the display she was seeing, this was Lieutenant Gareth's doing.
Her thoughts were confirmed when the figure thrust something towards the sky and released a bolt of lightning bathing the whole village in bright violent light. As rain began to fall in the wake of the Lieutenant's actions Marren and Richard quickly ushered the group towards the newly created hill. Backtracking through the narrow alleys Marren's fear still whispered, but she carried on determined to protect these people.
Carefully they pressed on, coming across a few Hoshidans that quickly decided to seek other prey. With Darren's soldiers in sight a few streets down, a new scream echoed from an alley a few houses away. Marren turned and mastering her fear, ordered Richard to get these three to Commander Darren's safety and then meet her at the next alley while she checked for more survivors. Richard nodded solemnly and traded his sword for her spear. Moving the villagers on, he turned back and caught her gaze before she slipped into the alley. He gripped her spear to his chest in a salute before turning back to his duties.
Clutching Richard's sword tightly Marren turned back towards alley and dashed towards the noise. Hearing a cry, Marren ran at a desperate pace. Just a few houses down the alley, she turned and saw them down a side alley. A group of three Hoshidans standing over something. The lead man held a thick iron club in hand slick with blood. Though the night was loud with sounds of battle, crackling fire, rain, and even the Lieutenant's lightning, Marren could still make out the words the man was saying.
"You thought that hurt did you barbarian? By the time me and the boys are done with you they won't be able to identify you and that little brat's corpse." The man promised in broken and barely understandable Nohrian.
Below the man, her arm bloody and bent at an unnatural angle was a young woman with pale blonde hair, her clothes ripped to bloody shreds as she desperately protected what appeared to be a child with her body. Desperation flooded her veins as the man raised his club ready to bring it down once again on the injured woman. With a quick sprint and war cry Marren crashed into the man holding the club before he could strike again sending him sprawling to the ground. Keeping her feet, Marren quickly kicked one of the remaining Hoshidans away and turned towards the third. He brought his knives up in guard while turning his head looking for any other attackers. Marren stood over the civilians, shield and sword ready to defend them.
Rising quickly to his feet spitting curses she couldn't understand the leader leered at her, his face twisting into a perverse mixture of hatred and blood lust. Club still in his hand, the iron spikes red with blood, he charged in. His compatriots tentatively joining in the assault still looking for other soldiers. Blades flashed in the night, the steel shining in the flickering lightning that danced in the clouds. With their blades slashing and the club swinging Marren kept her shield tight blocking the attacks as best she could. She tried to keep the knife men back with a few well-timed slashes of her own, but with their numbers and the civilians underfoot, Marren was unable to stop everything. Several slashes slipped past her guard and scored hits on her armor. Sending up silent praise for her armor, that merely gained a few new scratches, Marren struggled to hold.
The club was the biggest threat, with a few well-placed hits her armor would crumple crushing her inside. With this in mind she dedicated her shield to keeping the weapon at bay. Seconds passed as the enemy continued to attack. Finding her still standing with her shield held high and armor marked naught but futile scratch marks, their frustration mounted. One of the Hoshidans sheathed a knife and suddenly lunged onto Marren's shield attempting to wrench it away. With a quick twist, Marren freed her shield and thrust her borrowed sword into the man's shoulder. Screaming wildly the man backed away clutching his wounded shoulder, red gushing forth staining the wet earth.
With her shield and sword out of position, Marren felt the iron club crash into her breastplate sending her back a step with a large dent around the stomach. Both the blow and the dented armor stole the breath from her lungs making it hard to breathe. Sensing an opening, the Hoshidans made it clear that problem wouldn't trouble her for too long. Stepping forth the man with the club rained blow after blow down on her. Raising her shield Marren blocked as many blows as she could. Seeing the knife fighter dart in on her, Marren warded him off with a slash exposing her shoulder. With a sickening crunch, Marren felt the iron club strike her shoulder. The bones were painfully jarred and the club's spikes burned as they pierced the armor and flesh. Blood started to drip down her arm.
Sensing victory, the second knife fighter dashed in blades raised to strike at her throat. Desperate, Marren brought her shield around quickly catching the man's head with the shield's edge splitting his head open as it wedged deep into his skull.
The club wielding man's eyes smoldered with dark intent. Though injured, this woman with a pain filled face still stood defending the Nohrian whore and the brat. One of his men was dead and the other injured, he knew that even now with her chest heaving for air, she was not to be underestimated. Turning he evaluated his injured compatriot. His flesh had paled to unnatural hues, and judging by the pool of red on the wall and at his feet he was not long for this world. Desperate he called out to his friend hoping that he yet lived, but only silence answered him.
While the Hoshidan was trying to rouse his dying friend, Marren called to the villagers behind her. "When you see an opening, run for the village center. I'll keep them off you." Marren could neither see or hear the villager's acknowledgement, but to her relief she did hear them getting to their feet. The lead Hoshidan glared at the Nohrians, his eyes promising violence and pain for the death of his friends. Though the injured man was bleeding out from his shoulder, the trio's leader stood before her uninjured and ready to end her. Richard's sword was too heavy for her injured arm to wield so she let the blade drop to the ground. Marren attempted to reach for her belt knife, but the movement sent a searing pain down her crushed arm forcing a cry from her lips.
"Foolish woman, you should've left the whore and her brat alone. Instead you are going to die in the backstreets like the gutter trash you are." The man spoke in his heavily accented Nohrian.
Glaring back at the man Marren finally drew her knife, her face wet with tears and rain replied "I may die, but I will save them. I swear it!" With a cry of pain and fury Marren charged the man surprising the Hoshidan and giving Marren a desperately needed advantage. Dented shield lashing out in quick strikes Marren drove the man away from the villagers and further into the alley. Though she tried to keep the momentum going, the earlier strikes to her armor kept her from getting full breaths. She was quickly winded and soon she found herself slowing.
With a sick grin, the man gripped his club with two hands. The leader, with savage glee, began to beat away at her shield. Shield held close to her body Marren felt every hit rattle her head and shoulders and sent waves of pain to her crippled arm. Desperate, Marren uncoiled her legs and lunged with her knife. She buried the blade deep in the murderer's hip. Stumbling back in pain, the Hoshidan swung down with his club clipping Marren's helmet sending the soldier to her rear in a daze. Her ears were ringing and her sight faded.
With nothing but her shield and dented armor, Marren rolled over and searched for anything to help her end this threat. Dazed she rose to her knees and grasped for something, anything. Her search was cut short as the raider struck with his club once more. This time denting her back plate causing her fall to the ground gasping for breath. Rolling onto her back she tried to raise her shield only to find it wrenched from her body and tossed away. Hearing the man's winded breathing she felt him straddled her torso.
A flash of panic cleared her mind. She desperately reached out for anything she could use as weapon. He drew his own blade from its sheath as her knife still embedded near his waist slowly dripped with his blood. He nearly flopped down onto her torso pinning her to the ground. With a wicked look in his eyes he removed her helmet and tossed it away the steel clattering nearby, as he dragged the blade over one cheek, then punched the other.
Cold fear pooled in her gut at this man's intent and with desperation she grasped and twisted the knife in his hip eliciting a scream of pain from the man. He responded by pinning her injured arm and sank his blade into her chest under her arm. Gasping desperately, Marren flailed with her good arm for something, she found her helmet. Slamming her helmet into the man's nose, Marren heard bones crunch.
She recoiled and slammed it again causing him to fall back off her. Seeing his knife fall from his hands she picked it up and clumsily stabbed his neck spraying herself and the alley with more life giving blood. Clumsily rolling away from Marren, the Hoshidan raider clutched desperately at his throat as his life bled away. Soon his hand fell away and he remained still, blood beginning to pool around him.
Exhausted and spent Marren took the man's knife and drug herself to a nearby wall where she tried to hoist herself to her feet. On one knee, she heard feet approaching warning her of a new attacker. Holding the knife in her good arm she steeled herself for the attack.
Looking at the scene, the Hoshidan raiders took in the one living body in the alley. She appeared close to death, face nearly white, and pools of red surrounding her body as she held on desperately to her knife. Further down the alley he saw another of their men dead red pooling around his head, and another with a large red pool surrounding his slumped form against the alley wall. He was not going to let this woman die peacefully after killing three of their own.
Stepping forward he picked up the fallen club and faced the rapidly fading soldier. With a dark grin the Hoshidan raised the club and prepared to crush her skull. Before he could end to troublesome woman's life a spear pierced his back.
Marren looked up and through her fading eyesight she saw Richard and another soldier quickly fight off and disperse the reinforcements. Relief fills her eyes as she her sight fade away, and a peace and stillness falls over her.
They took in the scene around them as the flashes of lightning lit the alley up for brief moments. As they knelt next to her now lifeless body, Commander Darren spoke his voice full of emotion and pride in this brave woman. "She was no coward."
Richard looked on his fallen friend and nodded, voice soft and nearly unheard as he gripped her shoulder one last time. "A true soldier."
Riding through Rothaire's eastern streets Karen kept a steady and firm hand on her mount's reins, the earlier rumbles having spooked the war horse. Though Karen felt that the rain that came soon after the earth stopped shaking was more irksome as it made the ground slick and in places rather muddy, hampering her group's swiftness. Rallying her force Karen again led her small group of cavalry through the streets hunting down more of those raiders.
When they first reached the village most of the enemies they had encountered were alone or in small groups. Yet ever since that large hill in the village center arose, the earth rumbled and the sky flashed with lightning, which was surely Lieutenant Gareth's doing, Karen and her cavalry found more and more large groups of raiders converging. It soon became common to see groups of five or more men standing in the rain at various points looking like they were awaiting orders.
Fighting through village streets was nightmare, the alleys were often narrow forcing Karen to often ride alone or with a single partner down a street as they hunted down the Hoshidans. Several times Karen had run unexpectedly into a group of enemies. Thankfully she had kept a respectable speed on her mount getting her out of trouble quickly. Had she been alone on foot she'd have died several times over tonight. Thankfully her Destrier's teeth and hooves flashing out striking the dastard's bodies kept her from being overwhelmed and allowed her to break up and scatter several groups.
Wheeling her mighty mount around Karen spotted her troops. "Commander Karen," Weston, Karen's best scout called out, his sword arm clutched protectively against his chest while he carried his blade in his off hand. "The enemy is rallying but I've seen no sign of a commanding officer."
Frustration mounting Karen turned from her force and glared into the night where cries still echoed. "Continue as we have, find the enemy and disperse them. If we keep them from gathering their forces we can allow the rest of the platoon to pick off the enemy. Weston, you keep close to Frida. She'll make sure you make out of this battle alive." Ignoring the boy's sputtering protests Karen kicked her steed forward, the stallion rushed forward eager for more foes to trample.
Navigating the streets was becoming a more difficult task, the bodies of both villagers and raiders filled the streets as well as plunder that the Hoshidans had drug out onto the narrow paths. Finally reaching a clear section, Karen's mount surged ahead and barreled right into a large group of seven Hoshidans, who refused to scatter.
Blade flashing in the night, Karen swung and struck with a vengeance, her blade biting deep into one raiders face. The Hoshidans attempted to swarm her and knock her off, but when her stallion reared and lashed with a hoof striking one soldier in the chest, sending the man to the ground where he lay still, they quickly retreated. Shouting Karen urged her mount onwards the beast charged forth his eyes flashing dangerously. The fight lasted only a few more moments as the Hoshidan's courage quickly fled as both rider and beast attacked lashing out and drawing blood with both steel and hooves. Soon the force scattered clutching wounds and glaring hatefully at her.
Pleased Karen took a minute to rest, trying to ease the fear that had gripped her when that group failed to scatter. Had they pressed she'd likely be lying on the ground with the other corpses. Patting her mount's neck Karen turned to run down the Hoshidans when she suddenly felt a body ram into her from above, lifting her out of her saddle and sending her spilling to the ground. Gasping as the air was forced from her lungs Karen swung her sword at the enemy above her only for her blade to be harmlessly deflected by a strange knife. Immediately another knife was thrust into her right thigh breaking her bone and twisted, drawing out a scream from the commander.
Eyes blinded by pain Karen thought she'd die but when her eyes finally cleared she found her mount standing protectively over her with a shallow bloody slash along his exposed shoulder. Struggling to her feet Karen tried to climb up but her right leg screamed in agony at any movement. Tears of pain falling down her face Karen heard the sound of several horses and turned to find her scouts looking at her with shock and fear on their faces. As they worried over her and helped her up she knew that this was the plan. Distract the riders long enough to rally their forces. And though she tried to send them away to hunt down the Hoshidan's their loyalty wouldn't have it, and as they escorted their wounded commander to the large hill in the village center she knew that this night would see more death.
Prowling down the streets of Southern Rothaire Gareth and his small guard passed several families fleeing towards the hill at the village center, several cradling broken and bloody limbs as they ushered the youngest along, whose faces were pale as they clung to their guardians with a fervor only the terrified could manage. Trying to tune out the faces of the young ones, Gareth kept his red eyes searching the streets, the alleys, and even the roofs for enemies. Spotting an enemy archer lining a shot up on a roof Gareth slashed with Caelus, the dagger dark. Lighting answered his wordless command, as a sliver of the golden lightning above fell down with a mighty crash, leaving another smoking body littered across the battlefield.
As the storm above thundered its rage, echoing its master's wrath, a Hoshidan exited a house with his hands clamped tightly over his ears. As Sean and Paul fell upon the unfortunate murderer Gareth finally caught sight of one of his commanders. Letting his guard finish off the man Gareth approached the blue haired Commander and seeing the man's grim haggard face that likely mirrored his own Gareth knew that should he and the platoon survive this fight, they'd carry the memory of this cursed night for the rest of their lives. "Jarred!"
"Aye Lieutenant?!"
"I need you to head to the village center, take command and protect that hill at all costs. Keep the villagers safe. When you get there rally our forces I expect the enemy to strike very soon!" Gareth shouted above the rumbling sky, his voice grim and barely controlled.
Nodding in firm agreement Commander Jarred gripped the small ram's horn at his waist and winding the horn he sounded the small instrument the echoing call catching both his and Alicia's forces attention. In seconds the Nohrian soldiers came from various side streets and surrounded the Commander, among the faces Gareth spotted Alicia, her face pale in the light and her breathing a bit rough. With a simple command Jarred directed the squads and the few villagers that had not yet made their escape to move towards the hill. As his troops passed by Gareth's attention was caught as he heard some more fighting deeper in.
With his small guard at his back, Gareth dove further into the village, his sharp ears guiding him to the sound of fighting. Rounding an alley Gareth saw the commotion. Dastan the acrobat was surrounded by a group of eight Hoshidans who had trapped a number of civilians against the wall. Slashing with Caelus Gareth called upon the power flashing above bringing a bolt down onto one of the raiders with the bolt arcing to catch those nearest, bringing three of them to death's embrace. With his sword reflecting the lightning surrounding them all, Gareth dove in amongst the confused and panicked Hoshidans and began to end their threat. Between Gareth and Dastan's blades from inside the ring, Sean and Paul's attacks from the outside, the Hoshidans quickly joined their dead brethren.
The enemy before him defeated, Gareth turned and upon seeing the state Dastan was in was shocked that the man had entered this fight let alone lived through it. He wore no armor, his chest bare of clothes, but not of wounds. Crisscrossing his torso were slash and stab wounds all leaking blood that was hardly diluted even in the cold rain. His pants their original color indistinguishable between the blood and the mud that coated them. Standing there with his two broadswords resting tiredly against the ground shoulders heaving as he took in greedy lungfuls of air. Swaying on his feet, the acrobat attempted to leave heading down another alley, when Gareth's hand grasped Dastan's shoulder causing the man to whirl around his eyes wild and his blades sharp. Deftly blocking the blades Gareth's eyes bore into the acrobat's.
"You are in no condition to continue fighting. Head to the hill in the center of the village. See our healer Caleb, he'll patch you up."
"I can't I must-"
"Keep fighting?! Avenge those now dead?!" Gareth demanded his temper flaring causing the sky to rumble in turn.
"Yes! I need to make them pay!" Dastan shouted his voice raw with pain.
Shaking his head Gareth kept his eyes on the warrior before him, his whole face demanding death both from his enemy and for himself. "You have! Not only have you killed these murderous dastards but you've saved their victims from a terrible fate. Get to safety, live, so you fight another day. Your vengeance is not only in killing these men, but also in keeping these people safe!" Before his eyes, Gareth watched Dastan struggle to decide whether to go and keep fighting, his death all but certain or leave and keep these people safe.
Casting his eyes about for something, Dastan's eyes found the civilians who had been cornered. A large family with a young father and mother, their arms full of small children who looked at him with pleading eyes begging their savior to join them. Eyes downcast, Dastan paused for a moment before nodding in agreement. Stumbling he turned towards the village center, determined to get these people to safety.
Gareth nodded and wordlessly motioned for Sean and Paul to clear the way while he stayed and acted as the rear guard. The going was slow as Dastan's wounds were catching up with him and forced their pace to a slow walk. Halfway to the village center, Gareth heard Commander Jarred's horn sound again calling the platoon to rally. As shouts and shouted orders began to echo from the hill Gareth knew that the climactic stage of this fight was about to begin. Finally, Dastan and the civilians rounded the last corner.
Alert as he was, Gareth heard the sound of rushing feet. Turning, Gareth set himself and found a giant of a man barreling towards him a large war hammer clutched in his meaty hands and giving a loud bellow. The man did not slow and attack like Gareth expected. Instead, he rammed the young Lieutenant with his shoulder receiving only a shallow slash across his face while Gareth was sent crashing through a door into a nearby house.
Clambering to his feet, his body battered and bruised from the tackle Gareth felt his heart drop as he realized that both his sword and Caelus had been lost during his tumble. Stepping through the door, his hammer still clutched tightly, the large Hoshidan soldier glared at Gareth as blood dripped from the slash across his face, letting a predatory smirk play on his face as he marched forward his thick iron breastplate barely holding in his massive bulk.
Grasping at the back of his belt Gareth drew Camilla's hatchet and with the spike forward readied himself. Adrenaline pumping, Gareth waited for the soldier before him to act. This was a soldier, not some common militia, but rather a trained and focused warrior. The giant Hoshidan his face grim, though his eyes glinted with predatory intent, drew back his hammer and swung the steel moving with enough force to remove Gareth's head clean from his shoulders.
Darting low, Gareth barely avoided the swing feeling the air whoosh by him. He was now inside the soldier's guard and slammed the hatchet's spike into his chest puncturing the iron. Though the man gasped in pain he did not go down. Grunting in agony the giant dropped his hammer and brought his fists down on Gareth, intent on pummeling him to death. Dodging the Hoshidan's blow with a low roll, Gareth quickly swung the small axe cutting deep into the man's left arm.
Still refusing to go down the giant did his best to deflect the blows as Gareth began to hack away at the man's flesh. Blocking and deflecting the hatchet's swings with his arms the giant lunged forward, his bulk belying his speed. Avoiding the giant's wild reaches, Gareth punished the Hoshidan, his axe piercing and chopping his arms until they could barely defend his body. Finally able to attack his torso, Gareth repeatedly breached the thick iron armor with the hatchet's spike leaving bloody holes in the iron. Finally, with blood pooling around the giant the Hoshidan lay still. His body looking more liked butchered meat than human, shuddered as his last breaths rattled from his lungs.
Stepping back, splattered with the giant's blood, Gareth watched almost numb as the most durable opponent he's ever faced breathed his last. Axe in hand, Gareth turned to look for his weapons when he tripped over something.
A man who might have been in his early twenties, his face nearly unrecognizable as human with the bruising and swelling of his face, limbs twisted in an unnatural fashion, bloody bone peaking past open skin. Next to him a woman, his wife presumably, her hair all but gone, ripped from her head leaving bloody wounds that still oozed blood. Her flesh bore so many wounds, cuts, and bruises that there was barely an inch of unmarred flesh. Her limbs twisted in such a way that they could only be broken. Clothes torn from her body, the extent of what the Hoshidans did was clear. She had been ravaged and defiled. Worse still was the smallest form in the room, a child no older than three was tossed carelessly against the wall. Its body lay a heap of broken limbs hiding a slit throat.
Gareth looked on with horror his eyes taking in every detail. As he saw the death, the bruises, and the violence inflicted upon this family, Gareth's heart broke for the family before him, for the secret and fragile dream that died with this family, and for everything that was lost this night.
Anguish filling him, Gareth cried out his howl echoing throughout the village with an almost bestial sound. Above, the thunder roared and the lightning flashed, the heavens mirroring the young Lieutenant's pain. The last of his self-control shredded Gareth failed to notice the haze of power surrounding him, but he did catch sight of his lost weapons, and sprang from the floor rushing out and snatching up Caelus and his broadsword during his exit. Dagger in hand Gareth felt his rage ebb ever so slightly as he moved towards the town's center, though the sight that greeted him at the village center caused him to snarl.
He had entered one of the main roads near the village center and stood between his platoon that held the base of the hill where hundreds of villagers stood. Cries of terror echoing still as they watched with fear in their throats the force assembling on the main eastern road. What must have been the entirety of the Hoshidan force had gathered their faces almost inhuman in the lightning. At least a hundred strong, the enemy slowly stepped towards the village center drenched in both rain and blood, their bloodlust finally tempered as they gazed at the smaller Nohrian force before them.
Rage flooding his veins at the sight of the treacherous and savage Hoshidans, Gareth raised Caelus and poured all the power within him into his dagger. The waves of shimmering power that had surrounded Gareth since that horrific sight were swept into the dagger causing the blade to spark with lightning brighter than even the bolts still arcing in the sky. Roaring Gareth raised his blade higher still, when a dagger sailed through the air from a side alley and sliced into his vulnerable underarm.
Snarling like a beast Gareth turned, the power still trapped within Caelus and saw the Hoshidan in black armor. Standing upon the roof the man offered a challenging stare before leaping and charging Gareth with speed and agility that Gareth had rarely seen. Daggers appearing in hands the Hoshidan threw the blades trying to score another hit. Deflecting the higher dagger away from his face Gareth let the lower dagger strike ineffectively off his steel cuirass and brought his sword down in an arc. The Hoshidan deflected the blow with yet another blade, this one strangely shaped, and spun trying to get past Gareth's guard. Backpedaling in a tight turn while slashing with Caelus, still crackling with power, Gareth parried the enemy's assault.
Facing the enemy Gareth glared balefully at this man, yet another reminder of his home's depravity. Wrath and fury rising Gareth darted forth, his sword and dagger weaving intricate and deadly arcs through the air. Every slash, every thrust was evaded, expertly turned aside by knives, or struck armor.
The enemy deflected when required, evaded at every chance, and when neither was possible, took the blows to his armor which cut easily, revealing it to be leather rather than steel. Though his anger gave Gareth the energy needed, it soon began to cause some crucial mistakes. Incensed, Gareth pulled back and lunged with his sword seeking his opponent's death only to see his opponent sidestep the blow and bring his dagger up towards Gareth's face. Seeing his death coming, Gareth shifted his head and tucked his chin as he turned. Passing close to the enemy, he felt a heavy blow to his head. His helmet was wrenched off during the strike as it protected him from certain death. Turning to face the Hoshidan with his ears ringing, blood running down his face from a slash across his cheekbone, green hair exposed as his helmet was now lying several feet away. Gareth tried to gain control of his emotions that still threatened to sweep him away.
A smirk crossed the enemy's face, though his armor was nearly worthless with the leather shredded and his body littered with various small cuts from several near misses he was confident nonetheless. Gareth was tired, battered, injured, and slowing. Gareth realized he was trying to use him as bait, without success, to draw his men down from the newly created high ground. Gareth started to back step towards the village center. Seeing his bait starting to escape, the man suddenly charged Gareth once more. His curved dagger clutched as he lashed out deflecting Gareth's defensive strike and twisted to plant his second blade in the brat's neck. Only for the dagger to strike empty air as the young lad shifted and brought his sword across his body in a rising slash that cut deeply across the enemy's body.
Both groups had been watching the two in combat as the Hoshidan force marched towards the village center. Gareth's fiery eyes saw the man stumble back his hands dropping his weapons as they instinctively tried to stem the damage, but it was too late. Hearing a cheer of relief erupt from the hill behind him, he stepped forward and ended the man's life with a swift movement of his sword and quickly stalked back to the hill passing through a small shield wall as he heard the Hoshidans charge the final distance with their voices raised in an enraged war cry.
The village center was in chaos as shouts, cries, and the clanging of weapons sounded across the impromptu battlefield as the Hoshidan force reached the village center. Though the enemy pushed uphill and tried to overwhelm Gareth's platoon, they remained resolute and held strong as the archers used their few remaining arrows to protect the shield wall's edges. The Hoshidan force began to try to maneuver both left and right as their force began to mushroom around the hill looking to exploit the small force's flanks.
Seeing the enemy still largely massed together Gareth fought the pain and raised Caelus with his injured arm. Feeling the power still gathered in the dagger, Gareth released the tempest within the crystalline blade in a bolt of blinding light that shot into the stormy skies above with an immediate thunderous roar that echoed above the sounds of battle. A mere second passed, then bolts of lightning thick as trees branched out and fell amongst the enemy. Explosions and screams sounded as nearly half the Hoshidan felt heaven's wrath.
As suddenly as it began it stopped, the lightning ceased falling. The rain slacked, but the clouds were still dark and ominous. Silence reigned as the battle paused. The villagers and Gareth's own forces looked on with awe and wonder. Cries of panic swiftly broke the silence as the Hoshidans that had escaped the wrath picked themselves up and fled with faces pale and eyes wide. Cheers sounded from the Nohrians as the enemy fled. Exhausted and feeling empty, Gareth nearly slipped down the muddy hill before his soldiers grabbed him. He looked through the rain and saw the scorch marked and cratered field and saw the dozens of dead Hoshidans, dead at his hands. Then he turned and looked upon his platoon.
Well over half were present and Gareth noted the absence of Karen and her riders. Most of the soldiers present looked to be injured, be it broken limbs, bruises, or more severe damage. Gareth felt pride at their performance even as numbness had begun to settle around him like a shroud. Passing by his soldiers who looked at him with reverence and awe, Gareth climbed the hill slowly as the rain finally ebbed. Gareth passed by the family Dastan had saved, past a woman with ripped clothes clutching a young child to herself despite her damaged shoulder that Zella was tending to, and many more families huddled together for safety and warmth. He watched individuals wandering around as they searched for their loved ones. Amongst the sea of faces Gareth looked for Mayor Eunice hoping that she survived, but though he saw gratitude, thankfulness, awe and more Gareth could not see the kind elderly woman. Loss gripping his heart tighter still Gareth looked for anyone who might be able to lead these people, Joseph maybe, but he saw no one. So many of the faces he had met only hours earlier were gone. Thomas, the village juggler, was nowhere in sight, and amongst the families Gareth failed to even spot the trading family of Madame Ava and Nathan.
Yet the more he looked the more Gareth noticed that these men and women were looking to him. Looking to him to lead, him to give orders, him to make them safe. The trust these survivors had for him was staggering. Head bowed Gareth offered up a silent prayer and then straightened. The plight of these people piercing his numbness, filling him with purpose. "Commanders, give the call to consolidate the platoon and take a muster of our forces. Have the healers stabilize the most severely wounded. Once we reorganize, sweep the village, I want to make sure that every last one of these Hoshidan dastards is dead, gone, or in chains! Once the village is secure establish a perimeter for the night! Caleb, find the closest buildings and get the injured villagers warm and dry."
Turning to the villagers Gareth spoke, "I need volunteers to extinguish what building fires are still smoldering so we don't lose what structures are left standing." Two dozen men and women raised their hands. "Ranaul, divide the group into two and start with the closest buildings first." Turning back to the crowd "I also need volunteers to lead my men through the village. You will need to show them every nook and cranny, every hiding place, if Rothaire is to be made safe we need your help." Most of the villagers stayed huddled on the hill, but a handful of men, women, and children, some scarcely older than Elise, stepped forward to offer their aid. Looking on these brave souls Gareth felt pride at these villagers' courage. Directing the guides to his Commanders below Gareth turned once more to the villagers and assured them that they were safe, before he told them that they all would need to help out in some way after daybreak whether they tended an injured citizen or an oven to feed the survivors. He then made his way down the hill to join his soldiers in rooting out any hidden enemies, as well as searching for any survivors that might have escaped the notice of the brutal Hoshidans.
Tonight, everything in his world changed. He just didn't know how much or where this path would take him.
Thus ends the story's first climax for Gareth, but not the last. First of all, I can't tell you how excited I was to write this chapter I have had this particular chapter planned for months as it is one of Gareth's defining moments that will shape who he will be by the time we enter the game's storyline.
For those who might be concerned and offended with what the Hoshidan soldiers did to the villagers of Rothaire, I am sad to report that such incidents were unfortunately not uncommon during the middle ages and even during some of our own more recent wars. We have seen relatively modern soldiers behave in such a manner. These kinds of situations happen for several reasons: The soldiers see the enemy civilians as sub-human so they treat them in an inhuman manner, they are not taught enough moral discipline, and so forth. Some might complain about me making the righteous Hoshido commit such a war crime, but I again direct you to the Nanking Massacre, sometimes referred to as the Rape of Nanking, where Japanese soldiers brutally murdered and raped thousands of Chinese civilians.
Now, some Nohrian soldiers can be just as bad, but Gareth has trained his troops to conduct themselves as respectfully as possible to avoid such a situation. Later Gareth will meet such soldiers and commanders, but that is later. One of the major points I am attempting to address is portraying both major kingdoms in positive and negative lights. There is no 'good' side, there is not 'evil' side. Both Nohr and Hoshido have their positives and negatives, which will be more apparent the further we delve into the story.
A note on the abilities Gareth displayed with Caelus, the storm calling and everything he does are not the actual abilities of the dagger. He used his blade as a focus point for both the power of the dragon vein, and for the power within that nearly overwhelmed him later in the chapter.
Hope you enjoyed the chapter, leave a review letting me know your thoughts on this chapter. Let me know what you think of the events, was it engaging, what was your favorite scene and so on. Did you find the action satisfying? What do you think will happen to Gareth after this? How will this event change Gareth's future? Do note that I am not afraid to change the world state by the time the game begins, things will change, the changes here very well might be the least changes to the story. As always check my author's page for updates on the status of the next chapter and so forth.