Well! I'm still alive! In case you folks thought I had dropped this fanfiction, I haven't. I've just been really really really busy with school and midterms and life. I don't know when I can finish the next chapter too. It could be next week, or it could be on Christmas break. But I do have something special planned coming up soon!

This chapter was really crazy to write. I had a lot of trouble laying it out, but I eventually managed! I hope you enjoy!

Edit: ARGH. What the effffffff. It's not letting me put those little divider thingies.... -_-
Hold on a tick; I'll put asterisks or something so you know where the chapter is divided


Sage Capital, Yuno

It must have been through either fortuitous luck or a matter of minutes, that Tabby was able access the warp priest's services. She assumed that the church had not sent out the order for her capture yet; the priest did not give her a second glance when she gave him a fake name. Just as she had stepped into the blue portal of light, a messenger bearing the church emblem called out to the warp priest.

She was certain of it; that messenger came to tell the priest in charge of warping duties to bar her from any possible exits from Prontera, and now they knew where she was.

The Sage Capital Yuno was a bizarre defiance of physics and geography. It hovered roughly fifty feet above the ground on huge elevated pillars of craggy rock connected the platforms to the earth below; they seemed to chain the capital down, rather than support it in the air. The platforms themselves were linked to each other with thick stone bridges set with marble. At the distant entrance to the city, a broad, stable staircase climbed down to the ground; it was the only thing architecturally sensible about Yuno.

The professor fell into a brisk step, walking up to the entrance of the Yuno Academy, approaching the guard. Not too far behind her, she heard the tell-tale whirring of a warp portal teleporting members of the church to the designated coordinates of the Yuno drop-point.

"Your identification, please," the front guard started, but Tabby flashed him a handful of paperwork.

"You know who I am," she interrupted. "Now's not the time for this."

"Professor Williams," the guard said. "Even the academy staff is expected to follow all regula..." he caught sight of the small army marching up to the front gate. Tabby turn around, to catch a look at her pursuers.

Oh, that's just fantastic. It's Salathiel and a squadron of monks. "As I said earlier," the red haired professor stated. "Now's not the time."

"You're not allowed on Yuno academy grounds," the guard stated loudly to the monks. "That was part of the conditions your Pope agreed upon!"

"Certain situations call for extreme measures," Salathiel called. His white and yellow garb, on top of being different from the other monk's uniforms, had unique embroidery and a special cut. Only the most advanced of the monks were permitted to wear them, and they were given a new title to go along with their accomplishments. "As the Royal Justice of Monks, I, Salathiel Penmeyer, hereby order you to stand down and surrender yourself for questioning, Tabby Williams. I cannot guarantee your safety if you fail to cooperate," the champion said.

"Unfortunately, Mr. Penmeyer," Tabby said, smiling. "I'm afraid I can't do that." She grabbed the guard by his coat and ran into the doors of the academy, slamming them shut behind her. Around them, a few after-school students looked at their professor curiously, startled by the noise.

"W-what was that about?!" the guard exclaimed. "What have you done!?" Tabby didn't reply, choosing only to heave the large, wooden plank into the locking sleeve.

"Professor Williams?" a young alchemist girl said, holding her vanilmirth homunculus in her arms. She pushed her circular coke-bottle glasses up; they had slipped when Tabby slammed the gate shut.

"Hello Miss Cook," Tabby said, digging through her bag. "Now is not a good time." She pulled out what looked to be a small purse, drew out a handful of thin cobweb wisps and threw them towards the wooden plank. As she whispered a short incantation, the cobwebs glowed briefly and enlarged, cementing the seam of the double-doors and holding the plank in place.

"Fibre locks," she said. Heavy pounding from outside the academy rattled the gate. "They won't hold for long. Students!" the professor called, authoritatively. "Please keep calm and walk in an orderly fashion to your homeroom classrooms! The hallways soon will be deemed unfit for safety."

The various sage and alchemist students began whispering urgently to each other and hurried to the hallway leading to the classrooms. Caroline Cook gave Tabby one last look over her shoulder and joined the other students.

"Please alert the headmaster that the Royal Justice of Monks is trying to break into our academy," Tabby said to the guard. "We need to spread the news to the other professors and instructors: Get the students to their classrooms as soon as possible."

The guard nodded, as the wooden plank locking the gate began to splinter from the steady pounding. "It looks like you were right about the Pope, Professor Williams," he said.

"Go!" urged Tabby. She quickly climbed up the staircase leading to her office.

Grant, she thought. You should have given me more time...


Morroc Desert, West Fortress Saint Darmain

They followed Grant Grave's advice. They ran for their lives, as quickly as they could, but the sheer weight of Remiel's presence pressed down upon their backs, clawing at their throats, grabbing at their limbs. Even though the distance from the assassin cross was increasing, the sense of danger was still razor sharp, never dulling.

"Where are we going?" Eurie panted, still holding onto Reinbach's hand and being dragged into a haphazard, staggering run by the young knight.

"Don't talk, just keep running!" Reinbach managed between breaths. Only a few steps behind them, Nicholas and Daphne followed closely behind.

"What about Richard and Sir Graves?" Daphne asked. They had just re-entered the ruins.

Reinbach grit his teeth together as he cut around one of the ruin walls. A horrible wrenching sensation began to boil in his gut.

"It's too late for them," he gasped. "We need to get to safety, NOW!"

"W-wait," Daphne said. "Nicholas, what are you doing?"

Despite the situation, Reinbach turned to look at the man. He was standing at the entrance of the ruins, with his harp drawn.

"Nick?" Eurie trembled.

Nicholas gestured for them to run on, then turned to face the bridge where Remiel had appeared.

"We can't leave you here!" Daphne cried. "Don't try to be some sort of hero- "

"We're running!" Reinbach said, grabbing Daphne with his other hand. He broke into a run, dragging both girls behind him.

"NICK!!" Eurie screamed. She began sobbing.

"JUST RUN!" Reinbach shouted. They ran into the twisting and turning labyrinth of the ruin walls, leaving behind Nicholas to delay Remiel for as long as possible.

"Kristoph," Daphne gasped. "We need to head back for Nicholas!"

"No," Reinbach wheezed, falling on his armored kneecaps. "What we need, is a plan." Neither of the girls responded to him; Eurie was still breathing hard and crying heavily, Daphne seemed too winded to argue with him.

"I'm sure if we stick together, we can manage to take him down," he continued. "He's only human; he can still die."

"But our opponent is an assassin cross," Daphne rasped. "The strongest one!"

"It's three against one here," Reinbach panted. "I'll distract him; out of the three of us, I have the best chance of surviving a head to head confrontation." He began to draw into the dirt on the ruins floor.

"Do you see these ruins around us?" he said, drawing lines into the ground representing the walls around them. "Daphne can stay out of sight around this corner, and still provide long ranged magic support. I'll try to bait him into these corridors here." He scratched another line into the ground. "Eurie, I know you're not comfortable with archery, but I- we need you to do this. See this layout here?"

"K-Kristoph, it's okay," Daphne started. Eurie sniffled nervously.

"No, it's not okay," Reinbach argued, pointing at Eurie. "Right now, she needs to look at this drawing here, and tell me that she understands the plan."

"Kristoph, stop picking on her!"

"Listen! This isn't the time!"

"Kristoph! She's blind! She can't read the drawing!"

Reinbach froze.

"What?" He looked sharply at Eurie.

"I'm sorry, Eurie, I know this is your secret," Daphne said. "But she told me before we left Morroc and she apologized to me for all the trouble she was putting you through, Kristoph!"

Suddenly it clicked. Eurie's unusually clingy behavior, her clumsiness, her lack of awareness of her surrroundings, her inability to fire arrows. Now that Daphne mentioned it, it seemed strange that he didn't notice it before.

"What?" he repeated, even though he heard Daphne perfectly. "What do you mean, blind? How did she guide us as far as she did then?"

"It was N-Nick," Eurie sniffed. "He t-tells me where to go."

Reinbach shook his head. "That doesn't make any sense. He's mute! How could he tell you where to go?"

But before Eurie could respond, a shadow appeared over them.

"How unusual," Remiel's voice said from above. "A knight who doubts his comrades? A knight who leaves his comrades behind? Is this all I can expect from the famous Prontera Chivalry?"

The feeling in Reinbach's stomach disappeared as his insides froze and turned to lead. Daphne shrieked as Remiel jumped down from the top of broken-down wall on which he was crouching and landed in the midst of their group. His thoughts raced. What happened to Nicholas?!

"You're not my target, you're a boy," Remiel muttered, kicking Reinbach in the chest. The knight managed to block in time but the impact was enough to send him flying. He felt an excruciating crack in his wrist; he was sure it was broken. There wasn't much time to think about it though – the knight crashed into one of the ruin walls and coughed up blood.

"KRISTOPH!" Daphne screamed.

"You don't have long blonde hair," Remiel said, striking the back of Eurie's neck with a vicious chop. She collapsed without a sound, crumbling to the ground in a boneless lump. He turned and faced Daphne, drawing out a pair of Infiltrator katars. "So that leaves you, young missy." The assassin cross raised one of the Infiltrators blades high above his head. The light of the dying sun caught on the black metal of the katar.


Sage Capital Yuno, Tabby William's Office

It had to be here somewhere; usually her documents and other important paperwork were stored in the cabinet near the wall, but she might have placed this one in a different place because of its significance.

There it was! She snatched up the corner of the document deep into one of the cabinets when the sound of knocking startled her.

"Professor?" a girl called through the door.

Tabby took a moment to collect herself; her heart had nearly lept out of her throat.

"What is it, Miss Cook?" she asked as she swung open her office door. The young alchemist pushed her glasses back up.

"Professor, they're after you, aren't they?" Caroline whispered, peeking down the hallway.

"I... er... well, yes, they are. Come on in." Tabby peered down both sides of the hallway and pulled Caroline inside by her shoulder. "They're probably going to check this office eventually, so you ought to escape through my window while you can. If you're seen walking out of my office... well, I don't want to drag you into anything unnecessary."

Tabby resumed her packing, shoving the document in her hand into a small traveling bag as Caroline sat down and watched. There was a muffled crash from somewhere downstairs and the sound of a few students screaming.

"No!" Tabby gasped. She grabbed the bag and rushed outside into the hallway.

"Come on out, Tabby Williams!" she heard Salathiel call from the main entrance. "I abhor using such methods, but every five minutes you do not heed my summons, I will kill one student!"

"Unforgivable!" Tabby muttered. She strode over to the staircase, cast a blue gemstone to the floor below and pointed a gnarled, wooden wand at the spell catalyst. For a brief moment, the monks and the students in the lobby couldn't help but to turn their attention to the airborne blue gemstone.

"Deluge!" she shrieked. Immediately after the incantation, a torrent of water flooded from the small crystal; much more than any object could hope to store, enough to fill a pool easily. She caught a glimpse of Salathiel holding a sage student in a headlock before the water crashed down upon them. It was enough to knock everyone down off their feet, even the students.

"Professor!" the young sage called. "Run for it!"

"After her!" Salathiel shouted, standing to his feet. Water dripped from his soaked uniform.

"Oh no you don't!" Tabby growled. "Frost Driver!"

A jet of blue light sparkled out of her wand and connected with the closest monk. His clothes froze immediately, icing his legs and feet to the floor, as well as the water in a one-foot radius around him.

"Frost Driver! Frost Driver!" Tabby shouted, casting the spell again and again, freezing one monk after another.

"Frost Nova!" the sage bellowed. Tabby caught a glimpse of the sage grasping a scroll in his hand before a flash of blue light blinded her.

When Tabby opened her eyes again, she saw that the young sage had frozen everything and everyone in the water, including himself. A thick blanket of mist settled over the icy figures.

"Good grief, Mr. Neptunia," she whispered. "To go as far as freezing yourself..."

"Professor!" Caroline called, running out of Tabby's office. "I've come to help! Oh!" She caught sight of the scene downstairs.

"I appreciate the offer, but as you can see, everything has been taken care of."

"There are still several monks inside the classrooms looking for you," said Caroline.

"They're just kids!" a monk's voice yelled from a classroom downstairs. "Just beat them a little- ARGH!"

Tabby smiled. "It looks like you've been taught well, students," she murmured.

There was a sudden, sharp cracking noise and Tabby whirled around to see Salathiel break out of his icy prison.

"You will regret your decision, Tabby Williams," he said, ripping his leg out of the crumbling ice. He shattered the ice around his other leg with his fist. "Yuno will be the first to suffer the retribution of God!"

"It's funny how that works," the professor replied. "Who gets to decide what God wants anyways?"

"Say what you will. Nothing will change the fact that your academy will be razed to the ground."

"And you can say what you'd like, but nothing will change the fact that four hundred students and faculty members are about to slaughter you and your men if you don't leave right now."

"You've been warned!" Salathiel threatened. He slammed his fist into the ice again, breaking everyone free. "We're leaving!" he bellowed. There was a scattering of pale blue lights as the champion and the monks teleported out of the room.

She let out a sigh that she didn't realize she was holding, and became conscious of the fact that nearly all the eyes of the students in the room were on her.

"Wh-what now, Professor?" Caroline asked. She was busy helping the wizard student up on his feet.

"As from now on, I don't believe I'm to be called a professor anymore," Tabby said. "Even if I'm not fired, my presence here will only lead to Prontera invading this academy again."


Eight years prior, Morroc Slums

This time, he was prepared. The dagger tucked away in his tattered sleeve had been stolen from the weapons forge before the blacksmith had shooed him away vexedly. He had even practiced with it a little; getting accustomed to the weight, the length and the edge, resulting in a few cuts and nicks on his fingers. After he felt a little more comfortable with handling the weapon, he had stared into his dull reflection in the blade of the knife for a long time. His own red irises stared back at him. They bore the scars of a life surrounded by death. Bitter, cold, and apathetic.

Richard forced himself to pay attention to his surroundings. He was hiding under a large section of cloth along the row of buildings on the street where he had met the assassin the previous day. If he could manage to sneak up behind the man, he would be able to stab him in the vitals, snatching his revenge. That was the number one drive motivating him as of now; he could die without regrets once he accomplished this.

There was a flash of gray in the street in front of him. That cloak! He was close now, so very close. He could almost taste the man's blood; his heart was beating so fast and hard that he thought it was a miracle that the assassin couldn't hear it. Only a few feet away and the dagger would seek warmth in that man's flesh!

The man turned around, showing his back to Richard. It's now or never!

He slipped out from under the cloth and sprinted towards the his mother's killer, taking care not to cause any overly large noises. At the last possible moment, he thrust the point into the man's kidneys from behind. Before he knew it, the knife clattered to the ground below and his arm was twisted painfully behind his back. He grit his teeth together, refusing to cry out.

"Oho... what have we here?" the assassin mused. "You almost managed to sneak up behind me. You even brought a knife with you! That's quite remarkable. Congratulations." He tripped Richard's feet and dropped him to the ground. Richard felt his face collide with the dirt and coughed as dust went into his mouth. "But your knowledge of anatomy and vitals is pitifully lacking, I'm afraid," he continued. "We're going to have to work on that." He planted a boot on Richard's spine and picked up the dagger.

"This," he said, stabbing the point into the boy's back. Richard couldn't help himself; he screamed in pain; it felt as though a searing hot poker was digging into his flesh. "Is where you were aiming. There are no vital organs here and whoever you're trying to kill will not easily die if you managed to stab- do try to keep quiet, I'm attempting to teach you something important." He pulled out the dagger and twirled it in his fingers.

"Low marks today," he said. "Any assassin worth his salt can endure a shallow wound like this easily. I was expecting something – "

"Go to hell," Richard gasped, breathing heavily. The assassin paused, his face expressionless.

"That's 'go to hell, instructor,' for you, young man," he corrected. "Back to the lesson. Now this on the other hand," he stabbed another spot on Richard's back. The boy screamed out again, his voice hoarse from earlier. "This spot does have a vital organ, you'd do your best to remember this. Make sure that when you try this later, you stab deeper because a shallow stab like this won't kill anyone. Now, we're going to have to pace ourselves today, we've got a lot of ground to cover."


West Fortress Saint Darmain, Present Day

Argos staggered to his feet, coughing blood. The three knives sticking out of his stomach drooped painfully, blood running down their lengths.

He scraped one vital organ, he thought. I need to treat this quickly... Pulling out a glass vial of thick yellow liquid from his bag, he bit into the cork stopper and yanked it out. A little of the fluid sloshed out, spilling on the ground.

Gritting his teeth together, he slid the daggers out of his stomach and grunted in pain; blood trickled freely down his clothes; now that the blades were out, there was nothing stemming the blood flow. He had to do this before he lost too much blood. He threw his head back and chugged on the yellow potion; the bitter, burning taste almost made him gag and his eyes water, but he swallowed it thirstily regardless. The remaining liquid he poured onto the wounds on his belly, causing the wounds to smoke and froth slightly. The bleeding stopped.

If there's one thing good about my training eight years ago, it's the fact that it kept me alive all this time. He reached into his bag again, pulled out a reel of bandages and began wrapping his lower abdomen over the knife wounds.

A few feet away from him, Grant Graves lay on his back, unconscious. He had taken a Soul Breaker in the chest, the strongest of assassin cross attacks. It was a fusion of mental and physical energies and required both mental and physical defenses to survive a direct hit. Argos couldn't say whether the paladin was tremendously durable or just plain lucky. Either way, it didn't look like the man would be waking up any time soon.

He needed to let Grant know that he would be gone. Argos walked over to the paladin's body and neatly laid down his icicle katars, pointing to the direction where Remiel had chased their other four companions. But now he needed another weapon. It seemed like only yesterday when Spider was telling him to be prepared for all battles.

"Having a specialty is great and all, but variety is just as vitally important," Spider had said.

"I haven't forgotten, Spider," Argos muttered. He walked to the discarded daggers and picked them up. They were Moonlight daggers, forged into a curvy, pointed blade.

It was show time.


Morroc Desert, West Fortress Saint Darmain

Reinbach watched helplessly amidst the rubble as Remiel shifted his feet into a killing stance. Daphne was as frozen as he was, staring fearfully into the assassin cross's face as he began to strike.

"S-stop," the young knight called weakly. "Stop it..." He forced himself to his feet, propping up his body with his Zephyrus spear.

Remiel turned his head to look at the Reinbach.

"I don't really bother to kill anyone who's not my target," muttered the assassin cross. "But if you get in my way, I'll kill you."

"I won't... let you," Reinbach rasped, pulling out his Zweihander from the sheath on his back with his left hand. His right hand was still supporting his weight with the Zephurus. He was conscious of how crippled he looked right then; left hand dragging the sword in the ground, right hand hanging onto the spear.

Remiel shook his head from side to side.

"All the other assassin crosses call me paranoid," he said. "But even I can safely say that you can't do a thing to me in your state."

Suddenly, a lilting, sorrowful melody danced about the corridors around them. To everyone's alarm, Remiel stopped his attack and doubled over in pain, grabbing his head with his hands, eyes screwed shut.

"AAAAarrrrgh!" he screamed. "My head!!"

"Th-this music," Daphne said, scanning the walls for the clown. "It's Nicholas!"

It was impossible to tell where the music was coming from. The acoustics of the ruins around them reflected the music endlessly, reverberating, echoing. It was only when the clown appeared from around the west corner was Daphne able to discern his location.

"Nicholas!" Daphne called. "You were alive!"

Whether the clown could have answered or not, he had no time. The assassin cross Remiel staggered to his feet with one hand still clutching his head. He pulled out a skull shaped glass bottle hanging from his belt.

"Nicholas, is it?" he panted. He drank the red liquid from the bottle and readied an attacking stance, ignoring Daphne. "So that's the name of the monster who haunts my nightmares!" he yelled, sprinting to the other man. His veins began bulging, a symptom of the red poison he had just drunk.

"What?" Reinbach managed. "What is he talking about?"

"IF I KILL YOU, WILL I FIND PEACE!?" Remiel howled.

Nicholas, being unable to say anything, nimbly evaded Remiel's lightning fast attacks, often parrying the lighter ones with his harp. Apparently, it was made to be much more durable than it seemed.

"SAY SOMETHING!" the assassin cross roared. He lunged forward for another thrust but quickly switched directions by dashing backwards. A dagger whizzed past his leg, scraping his thigh and buried itself in the dirt. Remiel glanced to the right above him.

"That's your dagger, have it back!" Argos said from atop the wall.

"Stay out of this!" Remiel snarled. "Die like you're supposed to!"

"Death hasn't knocked on my door yet!" the assassin countered. He lifted up a skull-shaped glass bottle filled with red liquid. "He's looking at you!"

"Y-you fool! If you drink that you'll die!"

"I SAID, HE'S LOOKING AT YOU!!" Argos roared. He threw his head back and chugged down the red poison.

The effects were immediate. His veins began bulging, pulsing with each quick heartbeat. His pupils dilated slightly, and his breath turned ragged and harsh. But he was still standing.

"He's... still standing..." Daphne said. "How is he still standing?"

Argos jumped from his spot on the wall and kicked off so hard that the cracks formed in the stone and collided with Remiel. The assassin cross had barely managed to block the attack in time, struggling to bear both the assassin's combined momentum and strength with his Infiltrators.

"What..."

Releasing the grip to the Drill Katars, Argos snatched up Remiel's Moonlight daggers that he had pulled from his own stomach and continued his attack. Remiel parried each swing, but the man began slowing down. The boosts of the deadly poison he drank earlier seemed to be wearing off.

"...the..."

Argos release the daggers and grabbed the handles to his Drill katars, which had not yet begun their descent to the ground, and continued his relentless assault on Remiel.

"...hell!?" Reinbach exclaimed. He couldn't believe the display of speed before his eyes. In the time it took for him to say three words, Remiel and Argos had exchanged more attacks than he could keep track.

Remiel winced and grabbed his head again.

"It's time to DIE!" Argos bellowed, swinging downwards to Remiel's face.

"No!" Remiel cursed. He snatched up the discarded Moonlight dagger on the ground and blocked the Drill Katar inches before it connected with his face. "You got lucky today, newbie. Look forward to our next meeting!"

With that, he pushed Argos backwards and sprinted away, disappearing around the corner of the maze.

The black haired assassin didn't even turn to watch Remiel run. He stood there, panting heavily, until he collapsed to the ground.

"It's over," Reinbach panted. The attack had seriously devastated their group, but what mattered is that Daphne was still alive. "You okay?" he asked her.

"Yeah..." Daphne responded quietly. "We should check on the others."

"How is he?" Reinbach asked Nicholas, gesturing to Argos. The clown was checking the young man's vitals, listening carefully to his pulse. Nicholas could only nod in response, confirming that Argos was still alive.

"Well then, let's get going." Even if Daphne was still alive, the remaning journey had grim prospects. With Captain Graves possibly dead, three injured and only two remaining fighters, he didn't see how they could reach Comodo.