Chapter 18: Stand and Deliver

Travelling to and from the various distances through the bonfires of Lothric was such a strange experience for Pyrrha, so taxing and yet refreshing in a way. The warmth of the bonfire left her head as clear as it could, even make her forget briefly the events that brought her here to the dead land.

At the same time, she had to focus her entire brain to travelling to where she needed to go. This was no hyperbole. Once 'in transit' she could think of nothing else even if she wanted to. She entered an ethereal state, unhinged by the physical or the mundane. It was a swirling of the bonfire's energy in her mind and body, all tingling in a sensation that the transport didn't allow her to observe, something always in her peripheral sense, never being capable of focusing on.

There were times when she tried to leave Lothric as well, using the same techniques necessary to travel between the bonfires. To focus on the sanctuaries of her past, the sweet homes and havens of Remnant. They always failed of course, and each time it made her feel guilty for wanting to abandon these people to their fate, to just return home. It wasn't her way, or it didn't use to be at least.

If the turmoil was agonizing, unbearable, or exhausting to witness, it's because it was.

But this time, things were different. The weight she saw on Anri's shoulders, the culmination of his life and afterlife to slay these phantoms that haunted him and Horace was there, in that city, waiting for him. It was goal in life to kill this Pontiff and Aldrich, a horrifying consumer of life, or hollow trying. It was his destiny.

Destiny. It was the least she could do for him. Were Aldrich a Lord of Cinder, or just another of these soul-sucking abominations, it wouldn't have mattered. Though, she acknowledged she would never have asked any of her friends to join her in what became her certain death, it'd have been selfish to do so she felt. But as she died, as she slipped away from the world, she just wished someone could have been there to comfort her, to let her die in peace.

In a world where misery is so rampant, it seemed like that was the least people could do here. To stand with their friends and help them achieve their goals.

The thought of her goal made her turn toward the old Handmaiden in red, sitting in a rocking chair in the middle of the hall. She hadn't spoken to her since her first arrival at the shrine. Ever since then, she had been left alone to think about her words, about her place in this world.

She never answered her questions.

But when she looked toward her, she saw the Handmaiden was speaking to the crowned knight she saw outside the shrine when she went to store away her armor, in his hand an old, downy feather. Just like before, she froze in place. The knight looked in her direction again and nodded to the Handmaiden before walking away.

Pyrrha chased after him, again once more, but he inexplicably vanished from the shrine. Pyrrha turned to the Handmaiden. "Who was that?"

"Of whom dost thee speak, youngin?" the Handmaiden said, a coy grin lining her jaw.

"The knight." This wasn't funny. The last thing Pyrrha needed was to start seeing things.

"Ah," she breathed, "no one, child. No one at all. No matter how he wouldst believe."

Pyrrha glared at the old woman, her milky white eyes piercing her. Still, she thought of the knight. This was the second time she saw him, and yet there was something...strange, ethereal about him. Something familiar. She hadn't seen anything like him at all, and yet his presence was disruptive somehow, a strange thing she shouldn't be seeing. Her instincts-

*CLANK* *CRASH*

Were immediately derailed as she twisted around to see Patches huddled over Greirat's sack of treasure and knick-knacks, recoiling from the noise.

"Blast, there must be-" Patches quieted down, slowly turning his head to see Pyrrha glaring daggers into him. After a tense thirty seconds of staring at each other, Patches slowly went back to looking through the pile, wherapon Pyrrha rushed to him and through him on the ground next to the sack. "Ay, mercy! What are you on about now!?"

"What do you think you're doing!?"

"This isn't what it looks like!"

"It looks like you're pilfering my friend's things."

"Only part of it really! I'm looking for clues as to where he's gone!" His face then straightened and leaned in to her face as much as he could with a sword still pointed at his throat. "So...where has he gone, if you don't mind my asking?"

"Like I would tell you!"

"You have to tell me, his life could be in danger."

"And I'm sure you would help a lot, thief."

"Hmmph, fine. If that is your attitude, I won't offer my wares to you either. You'll have to make due without my help."

"I can live with that."

That didn't go according to plan and Patches went wide eyed. "Wait wait! Fine, I'll tell you. He did me a good turn in the Lothric Dungeon, and I don't want that stinking little rodent to hang that over me forever. So I'm going to go save from the doubtlessly dangerous deathtrap you sent him in so I can get rid of that debt. Honest enough for you?"

Pyrrha stared at Patches with fury, but she was slowly thinking through what he was saying. "...Irithyll. I sent him to Irithyll."

Patches grinned and waved his hands, prompting Pyrrha to let him go. But just as he began walking, he was stopped by Pyrrha grabbing his shoulder. "Oi, what now?"

"If neither of you come back, I will find you."

Patches nodded and scampered off. But once he was away from her, he looked back to where he came from. "Hrmmph. 'I will find you.' Who does she think she's dealing with?" he spat as he made his way to his pile. The items he needed, long since covered in various trinkets, reflected the light from outside back on to him. "Hello there. You miss me?"

"Come on, nothing personal, I just need your gem- AGGH!" The lizard bit Greirat's hand, causing it to recoil back. Firmly hitting it on the head for that, he got his knife and stab it dead before using the knife to pry that comprised the bulk of its body, rewarding him with a chunk of twinkling titanite.

He threw it in with the rest of his haul, which was coming along rather poorly considering where he was. This chunk was the single most valuable thing he found, the ones before it being two small bottles of blessed water and an ivory candlestick, among other items. Could prove useful when Pyrrha looked at them.

Should she ever look at them. Throughout her time in Lothric, she hasn't had much need for the items he brought back and going out into the world left her only a little time to talk with those at the shrine. Of course, the items weren't the point, not really.

In the corner of his eye he saw a faint twinkle, and saw something resting on the base of a tree. Blinking once, Greirat gathered his bag and scuttled to the tree. He slowly inched toward the object and reach to pick it up, a blood red gem.

It was warm and rough in his hand, almost sticky but he couldn't tell why. Some dry red flakes got onto his hand as they brushed against it.

He turned to put it in the bag, but that's when he saw what was following him. Lining the length of the pathway was several floating, glowing white eyes topped off with swirling black smoke. The air shimmered and the eyes each found bodies, those of decrepit, shambling witches. One stared directly at him, eyes brighter than the rest, and shrieked.

The witches all began to run toward Greirat, who pocketed the gem and began running with the bag over his shoulder. He couldn't possibly out-run the witches with the weight he carried, so he had to rely on using his dagger to push them aside at they charged and weaving in between them. One, however, caught his bag in its hand and pulled him back, sending him crashing to the ground.

Greirat took his end of the bag and pulled against it while the witch began pulling incrementally closer. The witches behind the one he was struggling with came close and the lead witch shrieked once more and two shining orbs emerged, floating around it.

He could hear the stretching of the bag as the witch pulled at it. Time had run out. Greirat pulled his knife out and threw it at the witch. The witch never let go of the bag, but with no muscle to pull, Greirat and the witch fell along with the bag into the water below.

Greirat coughed as he freed himself from the freezing, film covered scum that was the Irithyll river. There was no way to get back up and the only way through was to keep going down river.

Walking under the bridge to the city, he began to see several bodies floating in the river, thin and wasted, but not particularly decomposed. White, as though someone drained all the blood from their bodies, while their hair floated, mixing with the water.

He didn't want to get close to them, but considering he was here, he thought he'd look around. He saw a tall, vibrantly healthy herb growing in the middle of the water. Greirat approached it slowly, not by choice as the water was as thick as it was cold.

"AUYIIIIAIII" A shrill cry sounded and one of the corpses came to life. But it had not the body of a normal person, but the many legs and underbelly of a centipede, almost nothing but legs and spines connected by flesh.

The centipede pounced at Greirat, but he managed to move around it, water erupting from where the centipede landed. It arched its back ninety degrees and slammed itself down on to the thief, plunging him into the water. He struggled against the centipede's legs and mouth while being submerged in the water and heavy mud. The struggle came to an end, however, when the centipede stopped fighting. Greirat wasted no time and tried to push it off him, throwing it back as he got his head back above the water.

It took a second to adjust his eyes enough to see, but the centipede was dead, sending small streams of oily fluid from its midsection. Standing over the centipede and Greirat was a figure in plate armor, with a frog-mouth helm and wielding a spear with a tower shield.

The knight silently put his spear in his shield hand and offered Greirat a hand, helping him up. "Thanks friend. Thought I'd be done in there. I'm in your debt."

"Then we're even then, right?"

"That voice…" Greirat knew that voice.

The knight removed his helmet, revealing a man with a bald head, crooked nose, and the most audacious grin possible on a human being. "How've you been, 'friend'?"

"You!"

"Ah, some people just can't resist."

"What the hell are you doing here!?"

"I came here to save you. What, aren't you happy to see me?"

"Happy!? I hoped I'd never have to see you again!" He picked up his bag and started making his way to the entrance to the sewer that the river flowed into, walking as quick as he can through thick mud and scum.

"What are you going on about? Didn't I get you that ring you wanted so badly?"

"Yeah, and then you left me in the prison!"

"And you're still alive. Wasn't that what the ring was for?"

Greirat turned around, hunched down and clenching his fist. "The ring wasn't for me!"

"Well who else could it have been for?"

"AWWWUUUUUGGGHHHHH" Greirat turned around to look at the sewer just as water splashed and a centipede's body fell at Greirat's feet...split in half.

Out of the sewer walked Siegward of Caterina, in his onion-like armor. Turning his head, he immediately began marching toward the two, pointing his finger at Patches. "YOU!"

Patches rolled his eyes. "You know, the more I hear that, the more it loses its meaning."

Greirat looked to Patches. "What did you do this time?"

"You're the ruffian that stole my armor!" Siegward bellowed.

Patches now started backing up as Siegward got closer. "Now come on then, where's all the forgiveness gone in the world? That dim, bug-eyed, red-haired girl forgave me, didn't she?"

"Wait, Pyrrha Nikos sent you here to help me?"

"Lies! I don't believ-"

"RAAAAAUUUUUGGGHH!" A mighty roar came from above them. A giant, rat-like beast was perched above on the bridge, it's orange eyes glowering down on them. It gave a brief roar before leaping down and landing in the river, causing it to explode in a shower of water and slime as it stared at its prey.

"Get back, both of you!" Siegward called out, raising his sword, ready for it to strike. The Beast glowered and then charged at the trio. Patches and Greirat rolled out of the way while Siegward slashed downward, gashing The Beast but getting caught in its grip before being thrown to the side into the river next to the other two.

Siegward rose, limping from the throw. He panted and took a swig from his Estus flask. "My, quite strong" he said, somewhat winded.

The three were safe on a bit of land sticking out from the river, but the beast was now blocking the way to the sewer.

"What do we do now?" Greirat said.

"You stay back" said Patches, "the last thing I need is you getting mauled and ruining my rescue."

The Beast roared again and began breathing a cloud of lightning toward them. Dodging, Siegward then charged, raising his sword above his head. The beast stood up on its hind legs and lunged forward, sweeping its arm. But Siegward learned from the last attack to sidestep it and slash at the arm instead.

The Beast looked behind it, seeing Siegward by its side, but before it could act, a sharp stab hit it in the shoulder. Recoiling, The Beast saw Patches had struck it while it wasn't looking.

In a rage, the beast focussed all its attention on Patches, swinging and slashing at him. But Patches held his shield up firm, straining under the blows being battered against it. The assault eventually lessened, and Patches looked up from his tower shield. "Is that it?"

The Beast roared, but spun around to Siegward, who was about to attack. It swiped its hand at him, sending him flying against the stone wall. Patches then took the opportunity to roll under the beast and stab it between the ribcage, digging his spear deep.

A roar of pain came from the creature, but remained as ruthless as ever, standing up abruptly, causing Patches to be lifted up with the spear. While he hung, the beast grabbed Patches and brought him to its face. But before it could eat the treacherous man, he delivered a mighty kick to its head. A kick from anyone else wouldn't have registered to the creature, but Patches' kick wounded it enough for it to drop him into the water below.

The fall wasn't painless, but it was better than the alternative. He landed in the water below, splashing some on Siegward, who took another sip of Estus. The beast turned to the two men, backs against the wall, and began to crackle with energy as it roared. Suddenly, it's back burst into flame, its fur burning into coils of carbon. The lightning breath exploded out and struck the buildings in the city above, destroying several walls.

The Beast turned and growled, seeing Greirat, who retrieved his bag and threw a black firebomb.

The Beast was incensed and forgot the other two in favor of killing Greirat, who began to retreat, not even bothering with throwing another bomb. It was too quick, however, and Greirat had nowhere else to run.

With a pounce, it lunged at Greirat, who was ready to either dodge or die. Neither occurred, for at that moment, he was pushed aside to safety by a man wearing light armor and a cape with a chainmail coif, wielding a greatsword and a curved dagger.

Hawkwood raised his sword and thrust it forward, piercing straight through and impaling its hand. The force knocked back Hawkwood, but the sword stuck in its hand, despite its attempts to shake it out, eventually resolving to limp on one leg.

Hawkwood stood up, but looked at the small parrying dagger he took from the Abyss Watchers, which was currently the only weapon he had now in this fight. "Last time. The last time I save people."

Siegward and Patches ran back up to the monster, but it turned around and delivered a burst of energy to the water they were running in, shocking Patches and Siegward. It then turned and charged at Siegward, opening its mouth tall as Siegward remained shocked.

Siegward was caught by its mouth and was scooped up, his sword landing blade first into the muddy river. The Beast closed its mouth, but it wasn't in satisfaction. It tried desperately to keep it shut, but soon its jaw parted, revealing the onion shaped knight pushing it open with his hands and legs.

The Beast couldn't keep its handicapped hand hovering forever and lowered it enough for Hawkwood to grab it and pull it out. With its hand free, it went on its hind legs and reached at its mouth to get at Siegward.

Hawkwood and Patches struck at its legs, causing it to lose balance and fall backward into the water, accidently knocking Siegward out of its mouth intact.

It quickly tried to get up and roared in pain at the three, but another firebomb landed in its mouth, getting caught in its throat. It choked and grumbled until a small thud sounded and fire spilled out of its mouth, smoke billowing from its nose and beginning to appear in parts of its skin as its ribcage erupted in flames.

As it caught fire, The Beast knelt down in pain, putting its front palms together in 'prayer' as it fell limp into the murky water.

Siegward picked himself up with his sword and chuckled. "Hah, marvelous! Always enjoyable, to participate in such jolly cooperation!" Greirat caught his breath and picked up his bag of loot, starting to walk to the sewer. "You there. Continuing to the city?"

"Well, um, yes. I was planning on getting more...supplies for Pyrrha and-"

"Splendid! Any friend of Ms. Nikos is one to me!"

"Oh, so...bygones?" Patches grinned.

Siegward stared at the rogue in plated armor. "For now…" he finally said before resuming his walk with Greirat. "What of you sir…?" he asked Hawkwood, waiting for him to fill in his name.

Hawkwood didn't however. "None of your business. Let's just say I'm on a pilgrimage, near the dungeons."

Siegward stopped and turned to him. "Oh? You're in luck, I've been meaning to go that way after a respite. Would you join us?"

"No."

"...Suit yourself." He turned to Patches, "thief," and with that continued to the sewer with Greirat.

Patches looked to the sparkling air in the place where they killed The Beast of Irithyll, giving a whistle. "Well, my work seems to be done." He took a step, but soon became dizzy, and his body became cold. "No, no…" He rifled through his pouches and retrieved a small, stark stone with a skull engraved on its face. His hands trembling, he placed it to his forehead, the fog in his mind slowly draining as the stone grew more and more blackened. He dropped the block of obsidian into the river and went back the way he came.

'Unbreakable' he thought, 'I am unbreakable…'

Author's Notes: Sorry for the wait, but I hope you liked this chapter, but I feel I could use a beta reader to help punch it up in terms of quality. I wanted to do this fight for awhile now too.

Btw, as of this chapter, with size 12 Arial font at 1.5 line spacing, this fic has taken up 196 pages on the Google Doc. It's so big it's beginning to lag.

Some behind the scenes stuff, if you have a problem with some of the previous chapters (or even this one) let me know, and I might do rewrites depending on the complaint.

If you have any questions or concerns, be sure to leave a comment or review (I do read them, all of them), and here's hoping this gets a TvTropes page (it doesn't hurt to want, does it?).

I might start updating on Sundays at 12pm PST (since the RWBY release schedule has changed dramatically since this started) so keep an eye on that. Stay tuned, I'll see you next time.