With most of their things gathered early into the next day, Cetanu stood by the gates of the Monastery, waiting for Ashe and Samyaza. He knew that his friend would be here shortly, as despite his name being 'The Lord Of Sloth', he was a very direct, and punctual person. However, he ever so slightly worried about Ashe. Cetanu had said something to him, and he briefly wondered if it was a mistake.
'If you want to feed, do it before we leave, because you won't have a chance to feed until we get back in however many days or weeks.' he had said, something that he wondered about the repercussions of. Would his progeny take his advice, or would he try to hold back?
And for that end, why was it that Cetanu himself wasn't hungry? He was stronger, older, and he was a direct descendant of the first, and oldest Blood Demon. He assumed that all of these factors would cause him to be more ravenous than Ashe, but he'd only fed twice in all this time. It was peculiar.
"Why would we need to eat so much?" Cetanu heard, hesitating when he recognized that voice. It was the monstrous manifestation of his emotions, the embodiment of his 'Inner Fiend'. He inhaled, seeing a few of Samyaza's soldiers leading their wyverns towards the gates.
"Can you tell me what the difference between you and Ashe's…. 'Beasts', are?" he asked, and the voice in his head laughed. He wondered briefly if this odd voice in his mind was the reason he hadn't heard much from Sothis in the past week or so. Perhaps they were fighting over who got to make Cetanu think he's insane.
"Well, you see, I don't know." he said, laughing in between his sentences. "He's pretty crazy, that kid. It makes me wonder what we'd be like without that damn butterknife on your hip." he said, and Cetanu could hear a spot of anger in the voice.
Perhaps this creature wished to be unleashed, much like Ashe's 'Beast'. Cetanu glanced to the blue dagger he carried on his hip, glad that he had it for once. It wasn't just something he wore at nearly all times, it had sentimental value to him, something he realized was important now that he was a monster.
He glanced up, noticing Samyaza leading his mount through the marketplace, earning worried gazes from the vendors opening their stalls for the day. Because while most of Samyaza's men, well trained Wyvern Riders called 'Grigoi', rode slightly oversized Fodlan Wyverns, known as 'Nephilim', their leader was different.
Because the creature that Samyaza had raised from an egg and attained his infamy with was slightly larger than the 'Nephilim', and unlike all other Wyverns seen in Fodlan, had four blue, feathered wings like a bird, or an angel. It's scales were also a blue color, it's head much more smooth and rounded than the Nephilim.
It's said that this beast's oddly serene, serpentine appearance is due to the fact that it was a descendant of a great Dragon, his short front legs making it impossible to even call the creature a Wyvern at all. This creature was truly a Dragon, and it's name was Azazel.
"I've been wondering where Azazel's been." Cetanu said, and Samyaza looked to the creature, running a hand along it's shoulder, it's benevolent aura rather surprising given it's appearance. "He's been out exploring. He doesn't like being cooped up." he said, and Cetanu nodded.
He had said that he didn't have much experience riding pegasi, but he was fully accustomed to Wyverns and even Azazel, who he'd worked with on a mission or two. Infact, during his solo missions, he'd flown across the ocean on the back of this oddly angelic dragon. "He'll have a larger area to explore soon enough." he said, and the serpentine man sighed.
Samyaza leveled his gaze on Cetanu. He knew he wasn't intimidating, being barely taller than Cetanu and having thin, pinstraight black hair and angular features. He almost look like a snake himself sometimes. "Why should I agree to this?" he asked, and Cetanu rose a brow. "Think of the political aspect of it." he mused, and his brother rose a brow.
Cetanu, a literal monster that was called 'The Demon Lord of Wrath', was the least political person he'd ever met. Even Asmodeus and Beelzebub had more experience thinking things through than the youngest of their group. "You? Political?" he asked, and the demon nodded, glancing away as he looked for his progeny, who was running late.
"If you hold the status of a Lord, even temporarily, you'll have more authority and resources to look into House Vestra, and at the same time, if you remain under the radar, you can feign innocence and ignorance. This also gives you a status so that they can't touch you, and also gives Jeralt's Mercenaries a place to stay and cause to fight for should things go awry." he said, and Samyaza sighed.
He hated to admit it, but he was rather impressed. Cetanu had thought this through thoroughly, and he realized that this was the best course of action. There was always a tense air politically in Fodlan, and no matter how strong the Church claimed to be, if it really came down to it, they'd be crushed by the Empire. And the Sins couldn't have that.
When Ashe arrived, he stared in awe at Azazel, who looked to him with it's crimson gaze, almost bowing to him as he lowered his long neck. "You have a dragon?" he asked, and Samyaza looked to him. "Raised him myself. All of the big Wyverns you see my men riding are actually his hatchlings. His genes aren't the strongest though, since none of them even look like the same kind of animal." he mused, and Ashe looked to the creature, who seemed rather serene and comfortable around him.
The voyage back to Gaspard territory was awe inspiring to Ashe. He watched a large number of huge Wyverns, at least two hundred, flying overhead casually, led by Samyaza and his four winged dragon. Ashe and Cetanu rode below them on horses, a man in a reinforced chariot behind them. He looked back to it, realizing that the chariot carried a large number of Wyvern eggs, and that Gaspard would essentially become a land of Wyvern Riders under the rule of the Demon Lord of Sloth.
He didn't mind this, because he wanted Gaspard to be a strong place, since it was on the border of the Empire by the Oghma Mountains. Huge, magickally mutated beasts and the ever so defiant Oghma Wolverine called that place home, along with many bandits and thieves. And then there was the fact that the Empire was directly to the south.
If war ever broke out across Fodlan, the Empire would be able to get to the western regions of the Kingdom only through those mountains and Gaspard behind them. Ashe was fully aware that in the event of civil war, that the only thing stopping the Empire from taking the entire western half of the Kingdom was him and his soldiers.
While this was a frightening prospect, he didn't seem the most bothered by it. It was likely because he'd drank from the confident Dimitri and then Sylvain, but he found a lot of his worries and fears to be much more childish than needed. He still held the same boyhood dream of being a great, honorable warrior, but all of his doubts and fears pertaining to that dream had all but vanished. Losing a limb will do that to you.
"Professor, why did you decide to come along? I could have just taken someone else." he asked, and Cetanu glanced to him. "Because I'm here to teach you as well. Have you noticed exactly how ravenous you've been? Me, Ignatz, Dimitri, the guy in the tomb and then Sylvain in such a short span is worrying. I'm bringing you here because I want to help you learn control." he said, and the green eyed demon blinked. "How can you do that?" he asked, and Cetanu shrugged.
"I have a hunch about us. Since we are monsters that manipulate the physical form, our own included, I thought that maybe we'd need a personal effect or accessory that would be able to say…. Anchor us. Something with sentimental value from our homeland." he said, and Ashe blinked. Cetanu pulled the blue bladed dagger from his waist.
"This was made with soil from my birthplace, forged by me using a spell passed down from my mother. Because I carry this all the time, I seem to be in complete control of myself. You lack some kind of artifact from Gaspard territory on your person, so that's another reason that we've come. We have to essentially find and craft your own 'anchor'."
Later that day, the Black Eagles, now counting Ingrid amongst their number, rested at the Dining Hall. They had another boring, draining day with a substitute teacher since Manuela was again too hungover to do her job. However, the subject was something completely unrelated. "And you're sure of this?" Edelgard asked, the Eagles all rather surprised.
Ingrid nodded. She seemed somber, a bit deflated. She sighed as she looked back to her new classmates, who she was still struggling to get along with for the most part. "Professor Cetanu and Ashe left for Gaspard territory. A lot of the Kingdom natives from the Knights of Seiros seemed really surprised that a kid like Ashe would walk right up to Rhea and demand the lands." she explained. Hubert narrowed his visible golden eye.
"That would be impossible. He's not a legitimate heir, nor is he even of a societally accepted age to rule." he said, and Ingrid nodded. "I thought the same, but I saw a bunch of soldiers gathering their things for the trip. Apparently Lady Rhea allowed Ashe to appoint a steward of sorts, someone to rule in his stead until he chooses to ascend." she stated, and Edelgard frowned. "Exactly who could he have chosen? He doesn't have many friends in high places." she inquired, and Ingrid felt a chill run down her back.
"Well, based on the fact that I saw two hundred Wyverns fly out of here this morning on my way to class, I'd bet it was that creepy guy Professor Cetanu was friends with, Samyaza." she said, and Edelgard frowned.
If this was all true, and to be believed, then right on the border of the Kingdom and Empire to the west, the man in charge would be the continent's single greatest Wyvern Lord.
This was a problem because it was Samyaza, not any Wyvern rider. The reason he obtained the name 'Demon Lord of Sloth', wasn't because he was lazy, or stagnant. It was because he was able to end lives sitting on his living, breathing, draconic throne on high. He didn't even have to stand to commit atrocities.
Edelgard knew that she couldn't let this slide. She had to directly confront her problems, meaning that Bernadetta would have no choice but to talk. "Hubert, we have to make Bernadetta talk before they return." she said, and her squire nodded.
"I agree. Professor Cetanu is hiding something from us, and unless you can bring yourself to share it, Lady Ingrid, we have no choice but to try and force our answers out of him." he said, and the other Eagles found this worrisome.
"You sure you wanna go through all of that? Seems like a bother to me." Lindhardt said, and Edelgard folded her arms. "He managed to essentially reverse Ashe's condition. Cure poison too deep for a Crest to stop and repair a missing limb, Lindhardt. I must know how." she said, and he sighed.
"You must reconsider. If Ashe ascends to nobility thanks to Professor Cetanu's aid, then messing with him might cause political discourse. It wouldn't be a very wise or honorable course of action to harass a Professor." Ferdinand said.
He was slightly worried, as while he wanted to prove that he was superior to Edelgard, he couldn't do that from six feet under, struck down in a civil war by Edelgard's obsessive desire to pry into a mere mercenary turned teacher.
"He has something akin to a direct counter to death itself, Ferdinand. If he puts that into the service of Faerghus, then there's nothing stopping him from slaughtering our ranks with a horde of undead soldiers."
Ferdinand frowned. He didn't like her train of thought. It was too extreme, too radical for his belief. He'd have no choice but to try and get to Cetanu before she did, even if it meant putting his loyalty and honor on the line. He had to do it for the people he'd come to rule.
That night, as Bernadetta slept, she remained unaware of the outside world. With Hubert and Edelgard driven over the edge in fear that Gaspard territory would become a Wyvern filled land of warriors that could harm the Empire, they decided that tonight was the best time to get Bernadetta to speak.
A man walked through the Monastery, garbed in a black cloak and determined to achieve his goal. He was instructed to break into Bernadetta's room and essentially torture the answers out of her.
He was promised handsome payment and immunity, freedom to hide in the Empire from those who sought his arrest or death in the Alliance. He came upon the dorms, inhaling as he headed for the door he was told was her's.
"Took you long enough to get here." he heard, his hand moving away from the knob as he spun around. The man standing behind him was tall, at least six feet tall, perhaps taller, and he was rather muscular. He wore a kind of uniform, almost like the Officer's Academy uniform, but almost completely golden.
And instead of it having a hood or a tight collar like most students, this man's collar was brown, much like his eyes, and it was furred, almost like a mane. The man looked at him, his shaggy blond hair framing his angular jaw and resting on the furred collar.
"Who the hell are you?" he asked, and the man shrugged his broad shoulders. "I don't really got a name. Although, it feels nice to look down at one of you damn humans for once. Woulda never thought I'd see the day." he said, taking a step closer.
The cloaked assassin drew a short sword, a weapon with a sharp, slightly curved blade, and brandished it in front of the man. He looked to it and began to chuckle. "I've never seen a human get so scared of me before. This is actually pretty cool." he said, and the cloaked man stomped forward and jabbed him.
The man caught the blade in his hand, which had long, sharp claws, and snapped the blade in two, whistling. "Damn. Looks like Cetanu made me pretty strong." he said, looking to his own clawed hand. The man took a step back, as if to flee.
He was snatched up, grabbed by the throat and hoisted into the air. The man sighed, revealing a mouth of sharp teeth with long, heavy canines that looked completely inhuman. "What the hell are you!?" the man managed to gasp out, scratching and flailing in the huge man's grip.
"I'm just the black cat that crossed your path." he said, the man's flailing slowing down as the life was choked out of him second by second. He realized exactly what was happening. He was an assassin, a man who killed the innocent or the guilty indiscriminately.
He must have killed the wrong innocent, because it seemed like the Goddess herself sent some monstrous warrior of the heavens to strike him down for his transgressions. He begged in his final moments for forgiveness and pity, the huge man's grip sending his soul away to the Eternal Flames.
When the body hit the ground, lifeless, a sigh was heard. The huge man turned to see Abaddon, the Angel of the Abyss, approaching. He glanced down to the corpse, and he frowned. "Get rid of it. I don't want Edelgard to even think we had anything to do with it." he said, and the man sighed.
"You weren't this pushy when I was a little thing sitting on your shoulder." he said, and Abaddon looked to him with his emerald eye. "When you were just a tiny cat sitting on my shoulder, you couldn't talk or kill people. I have no idea how Cetanu managed to turn you into… this." he said, and the man shrugged as he picked the body up.
"Beats me. Bastard could've at least given me a name or something. Especially since I'm not 'Victor', the little black cat." he said, and Abaddon nodded. "You are essentially a grown man now. You can call yourself whatever you want. Just make sure that it's unique enough that Cetanu and I don't forget you." he said, and the man hummed, the duo carrying the body off into the night. "Well, he did talk to me while he… did whatever, so I got an idea of what to call myself." he mused. "I'm gonna call myself Victor Szlachta, works for me. But since you all got funny human names also, I think mine should be something like… 'Sabertoothed Angel' or something goofy." he said, causing the emerald eyed sniper to roll his eye.
