Chapter 21 is uploaded; the climax of the battle is here. Thank you for all the kind comments on my last one, they help me keep writing. Important update in the author notes down below. Oh, I also got a message saying in the sequel the name of Vaults kingdom is Negramstia, so from now on that's what many of the characters will call it now. Loyalists to the old regime will still refer to it as Eostia. Now without further ado, let's get to it. Rated M for Kuroinu.

The Price of Duty

The mercenaries of Falkirk were howling for blood as they breached the house. They pushed and jostled each other as the barricade finally fell. A few unlucky found themselves being knock aside or trampled in their haste to get inside, though they quickly rose to join the pack. The men had been pushed to their limit by Falkirk over the past few days, fear of what their commander would do to them if they failed in their orders. They were tired from searching shitty little villages, angry at those who'd bled them and scared to death of failure. Now with her nearly within reach and being offered to the best man, all those feelings feel away into a singular minded focus. The men howled more than screamed much like the hound imprinted on their nations banner. They hungered for blood.

Jaune intended to give it to them. The first one never saw his own death, debris and dust from the wall hindering his sight. With his blade held aloft to strike Jaune barely had to slice at all, sword cutting through his side and organs with little trouble. The next man was sprinting nearly as fast, arm already moving in a chopping motion. Jaune ducked the blow and used his momentum against him, slamming his shield into his gut and sending him falling behind him. the man spun from the blow and hit the ground hard, the air driven from his lungs. He only had a moment to scream before Dietrich's spear silenced him forever.

The blonde knight ran forward, his shield raised to block the dust from his eyes. He slammed into the nearest man, felt the bones of his face crush against the shield. The man crumpled to the floor as blood joined the dust in the air. Jaune wasn't sure he was dead, didn't have time to check as two men advanced on him. The first man came to his left, his arms swinging a spiked maul at his head. Jaune raised his shield and braced against the blow as he feinted with the sword at the other man. He didn't really have an angle to strike at him but the fake blow made him pause long enough for Jaune to turn and gut his partner. Warm blood splashed against the floor as both maul and man fell to the ground. His partner realizing the trick charged in sword swinging.

The man thought he had him or at least would force him back. Jaune didn't have time to withdraw the blade nor time to shift his shield. If Jaune wanted to avoid the blow he'd have to leave the blade and fall back. What the man hadn't been expecting was for Jaune to take the blow head on, jaune lifting his shoulder up as high as he could. The sword clipped his shoulder plate and bounced away from his collar. The mercs eyes had all of two seconds to look in bafflement before Jaune ripped his blade out and slammed the pommel into the man's face. Teeth and blood splattered in the air as his opponent's head snapped back, hands reflexively grabbing at his face. A quick twist of his hip and Jaunes sword drew a line across his throat.

"Jaune pull the fuck back. Phase two!" Dietrich's voice called out behind him.

Jaune had moments to fall back as more mercenaries breached Dietrich's home, albeit with a bit more caution than those just previously had. The two men put the staircase and wall to the back as their enemies began to spread out in a half circle around them. At least twenty men were glaring at them, their blades prepared as they began to close in on them. "You remember what to do?" Jaune asked as he fell back in front of Dietrich.

Dietrich scoffed from behind him, hoisting his shield up and shifting his grip on his spear. Another pair sat with easy reach. "Shut up boy, I trained for this when you weren't even in your father's balls."

Jaune chuckled a bit as the first pair of the cautious made to move forward, crooked blades held to their sides. "Yeah, fuck you to." Was all Jaune got out as he ducked down.

Dietrich's throw was a bit wobbly, but so close it was hard to miss. The crooked blade fell to the ground with its owner who was screaming in pain and horror. His partner made the mistake of looking at his partner, only realizing a second to late the danger. Jaune surged forward his blade raised in a chop. To his credit the man raised his sword up above his shoulder to catch the blow. It was too little too late. Jaunes sword had too much momentum in the swing to stop it effectively. His guard was knocked down and collar bone was sliced through. A mist of red flew from the blow and seemed to float in the light of the air before splashing to the floor. No sooner had the mercs body tumbled to the floor then another joined it as another thrown javelin.

Jaune darted back to the wall as the remaining men swarmed in at him. Jaune raised his shield and hid back as a rain of blows began to rain down on him. His arm strained and shook as the shield took the majority of the punishment. What few blows did get by his guard either skipped off his armor or glanced against his aura. He gave back as good as he got sword arm swinging out to hit whatever came in reach. Some of these blind blows struck nothing but air or furnishings, but Jaune felt others slice through meat and bone, a scream being produced whenever he hit his target. He wasn't sure he'd actually killed anyone in those frantic moments, but every blow he landed took some of the pressure off.

It wasn't something he could do for long however; he felt every errant glance or blow that didn't strike armor was chipping away at his aura. He couldn't be certain but if Jaune had to hazard a guess his aura was probably down to somewhere in the low sixty percentile at this point. Knowing they'd wear him down if he simply hid behind his shield Jaune went on the offensive. A quick glance to his side saw Dietrich being forced back as two of the men had split off from Jaune to attack the old man. He had managed to hold his own so far, but the two were beginning to overwhelm him. Jaune could tell he was faltering. Faking a lunge to push them back he hurled himself in Dietrich's direction, raising his shield behind his head to block any incoming attacks. Jaune winced as he felt an axe slam into his lower back below his armor, but his aura held and the inertia of the swing actually helped to push him forward.

Jaune smashed his upraised shield into the back of the first man's head, the edge of ten pounds of steel and gears smashing into the back of his unprotected skull. Jaune felt his arm shake from the blow as the back of the man's head seem to crumple in on itself with a snap like a tree branch. His partner turned and raised his sword, whether to attack or defend Jaune wasn't sure. It didn't matter in the end as Dietrich took advantage of his distraction planting his spear into the man's back. he stared down dumbly for a moment as the tip was poking through his chest.

With a grimace Dietrich yanked the spear back and the dumb man became a dead man. The old man was breathing heavily and fresh blood was dripping down his arm. Jaune wasn't certain if the blood was his or the man he'd just killed. "You holding up all right?" the blonde knight asked as he parried an incoming swing of a hammer, his shield flashing out to bash the man to the ground,

Dietrich response seemed a bit pained as his spear stabbed down to finish the stunned man on the ground. "Had better days, but better than that lot." Dietrich gestured towards the bleeding and dead men before him. Of the score that had originally surrounded them, only about half were left in any condition to fight them.

Jaune found himself grinning a bit as he saw the fear in their eyes, the hesitation to move forwards. He took a step forward, hefting his shield up with a slight grunt. "Dietrich, lets finish these bastards off an-OOF!?"

Jaune was cut off mid-sentence as he felt Dietrich slam into his side. Being mid step and unaware he lost his balance and went sideways. He hit the opposing wall and nearly fell only staying afoot through sheer willpower. The closest merc went in to smash him with his mace, but Jaune was able to deflect it in time. Knocking it aside with his blade he shield bashed the man back. He dared a look to the side, the familiar anger rising up in him. "Dietrich what the fuck? Did you trip into me? Get over hear now before…"

His words trailed off and his anger died out. Dietrich had fallen to one knee, his shield held low with his spear resting on his shoulder. His free hand was clasped near his stomach fingers wrapped around a wooden shaft. The arrow had pierced the leather of his jacket and blood was dripping down alarmingly fast. His face looked confused as he stared down at the projectile, not even flinching as he tugged it a bit. The man looked up from his position towards the men, his eyes wandering before stopping and glaring at the kitchen. "You took your sweet time coming in. You get lost you cocksucker?"

Jaune was confused by who Dietrich was talking to, before his eyes fell on him and he felt his blood freeze. There in the foyer of hall leading to the kitchen stood Falkirk, bow still raised in the firing position. Falkirk took a step into the room, his arm lowering itself to his side. Jaune wanted more than anything to wipe the shit eating grin off his face "Decided to find a different entrance. Seemed the smart thing to do. And you were so generous with the arrows you shot at me, the least I could do was give you one back."

"Suppose you did, I remember you were a decent shot even as a boy. Course you left your men to be butchered like the dogs on your standard. I thought your little mercenary band was built on the ideas of brotherhood and manliness." Dietrich grunted in pain as he scooped up his spear and stood. He wavered a bit sideways but managed to find his balance.

Dietrich simply shrugged, the way one might when asked what kind of meat they wanted on their sandwich. "It does, but these men have not yet earned that right. These men are barely above dogs. They fight and fuck and die when needed. Men weak as them can be replaced, they are expendable. A commander can't be so careless, he has a responsibility to survive. To give orders and to deal with traitors."

That last part was directed towards Dietrich, something vicious appearing behind his smile. His men were glaring at Falkirk, but he didn't notice. Or he just didn't care. He waved a hand towards Jaune, eyes focused on the wounded man. "One of you needs to claim your prize. Beat him down but try not to kill him. I have questions I want to ask him."

Whatever hatred they might have held for their captain, it didn't outweigh their fear of him nor their lust for Prim. Jaune tried to dash over to Dietrich but found himself cut off. Jaune ducked a blow aimed for his neck. Jaune rose and cut upwards his attacker barely blocking the blow. Before Jaune could attack he had to hastily raise his shield to his side, a thrusting spear jamming in before skittering off to the side. The man had overextended himself and Jaune punished him for it, a quick swipe cutting through both spear and man. Despite his success his enemy came on mercilessly and Jaune had to give ground lest he find himself surrounded. Even as he fought to break through the wall off attacking men he could only watch as Falkirk moved in on Dietrich.

Falkirk dropped his bow and drew his sword, the curved blade gleaming in the sunlight streaming from the wall. "I'll admit for an old man and a boy you put one hell of a fight. But this was always going to end like this. You backed the wrong horse in this race."

Dietrich hmphed and got himself ready, doing his best to ignore the pain in his gut. "Days not over yet. And even if we do lose, it wasn't wrong to oppose you. Everything I did was for my duty."

Dietrich darted forward and lunged with his spear. The blow was fast. It was sudden. Falkirk sidestepped it with ease. He could have cut the old man down right there but he let the old man move past him, sending a half lazy blow at him. Dietrich barely raised his shield in time to block the blow, but it still sent him skittering back.

Falkirk took a few practice swipes to the left and right, the metal seeming to flow through the air with ease. He looked at Dietrich with an amused look, the words he spoke next mocking him. "Really, your duty was to oppose us? Is that what you've been doing all these years? Was that what you were doing when you brought us food and supplies and took our gold? When you played cards and drank with us from dusk till dawn. Was that your way of fighting back?"

Falkirk suddenly rushed forward and slammed his blade against the shield. The first time he'd been hit he'd been knocked back. Dietrich flew back this time his back hitting the wall. His spear flew away and clattered to the floor. He still had his shield but a noticeable gash had formed down the middle. The old man was partially in the wall, his body contorted as he hacked his lungs out

Jaune cut another man down, gore splattering down the front of his armor. A sword struck at his arm in retaliation but Jaune ignored it. His aura was getting low but he had to ignore that had to keep fighting. Those fighting him had been reduced by a third and Jaune was certain he would kill them. Dietrich just had to hold out a few more minutes…

Falkirk advanced on him, still grinning from ear to ear. "You tell me something Dietrich. All those times we were in the brothels together. All those whores we pleasured and fucked, all those pleas for help and mercy we ignored. Were you simply doing your duty then? Because a part of me thinks you enjoyed yourself. You fed from the same trough as the rest of us and I think you liked it. So, which was it? Duty or pleasure?"

Dietrich took a moment to stop coughing and push himself out. He pried himself loose and fell to his knees. The shield he balanced on the floor his arm holding its top, it being the only thing keeping him upright. His other arm hung limply at his side, fingertips brushing the wood by his boot. Wincing as blood dripped down, he focused on the floor as he talked. "I wish I could say it was only duty, that I was just doing what I had to. But I'd be lying, a part of me did like it. The pleasure from the act, the feeling of holding power over someone else. It did feel good. I can understand to some degree why you do what you do."

Falkirk made to speak, but stopped as Dietrich raised his head to stare at him hatefully. "But I'm not like you. I will never be, because no matter how good it might have felt in the moment, all I felt afterwards was regret and disgust. No amount of water or soap makes me feel clean anymore. I can't look at myself in the mirror, because I can't stand the face that looks back at me. How you can do what you do and live without shame, I'll never know. Because ever since I took my first victim, all I've wanted to do is die."

Falkirk was no longer grinning; he wasn't making an expression of any kind. His falchion was held to his side, tip pointed at the ground. "If that's what you want, I will grant it to you."

Falkirk's blade flashed out knocking the shield away. Dietrich cried as he fell forward, Falkirk's hand wrapping around his throat and cutting off his cry with a wheeze. He lifted the man from the floor like he was nothing. Dietrich grasped at the chocking limb with his good arm as his legs weakly kicked in the air.

Falkirk look to his side and frowned a bit at the other party. His men were almost all dead, the boy was cutting through the last few and he'd have to deal with him soon. He wasn't to particularly worried, the teen knight had spirit, but he could tell the boy was close to fighting on nothing. His inexperience shown through as he wildly slashed and hacked at his men. He was fighting too hard to try and save his partner. An experienced warrior would have known it was a lost cause and focused on conserving his energy. He on the other hand was mostly fresh and clearly the superior warrior. The outcome was all but certain. He just had to keep him alive for interrogation.

Explaining this fucking disaster to Vault was going to be the true challenge. That situation was far less certain. But Vault also had a soft spot for former comrades, if he sold it right, he might be rewarded instead of punished. Although, he would settle for simply being alive.

One shit show at a time. I'll deal with you in a minute fucker. Falkirk thought to himself as he turned his head back to the man in his hand. His legs had stopped kicking and he only held on by one hand. A single hand clutched at his own feebly trying to pry his fingers away.

"Dietrich Von Everret." Falkirk said as he kept an eye on Jaune. "For your crimes against the kingdom of Negramstia, its soldiers and against that of our glorious King, you are hereby sentenced to die. Do you have any last words to say?"

Dietrich's mouths formed words, but no sound. Falkirk frowned and loosened his grip just a bit. Dietrich gasped in some air and tried to speak, but now it was only a whisper. Falkirk pulled the gasping man closer, tilting his head a bit towards him "You'll need to speak up old friend and make it fast. Need to beat your partner soon."

Dietrich eyes wandered up to meet his own and Falkirk expected what he'd seen so many times before. Sadness, pleading or despair. Some attempt to plea for his traitorous life. He always wanted to see his victim's eyes, wanted to know what they felt before death took them.

In Dietrich's eyes he saw none of those things, only an all-consuming hatred.

Falkirk had only a second to know he'd fucked up before he felt cold steel pierce him. Dietrich's knife, slipped from his boot while Falkirk was distracted came around his back and slammed straight into his stomach. He'd have preferred to go for the heart or lungs, but this would have to do. Before he could withdraw the blade Falkirk released his throat and grabbed his wrist in his place. Dietrich saw the sword rising and knew what it meant.

"You talk too much, you piece of shit. And fuck your king." Dietrich said as he stared at death. "There's my last fucking words."

Falkirk roared and ripped the knife from his body as the sword swept down. Through leather and flesh it carved a path from shoulder waist. For a moment he remained standing, his hateful face glaring inured to the pain. Then that fell away as his body fell to the floor.

Falkirk dropped the dagger and grabbed at his torso and gasped from the movement of his swing, it was never a good idea to make wild movements when one was injured, especially on the stomach. Those movements could exacerbate the injury sometimes enough to be fatal. What pain he felt turn to anger as he stared at the spy he'd cut down. One cut wasn't enough retribution for what he'd done, for the pain in his gut. He raised his arm intending to chop him into little bits.

"RAAAAAGH!" It was the only warning Falkirk got as Jaune ran at him, shield lost or abandoned as he held sword in one hand and sheath in other.

"Come on you cunt. I'll cut you just like I did him." Falkirk said raising his own blade. Even injured he knew he could win this fight. The boy was charging in with his blade raised over his head, an attack like that could kill but choreographed as it was it would be child's play to disarm. He just had to time it right.

Falkirk side stepped the obvious blow and lashed out as planned, his blow caught the knight under the hilt and on the hand, sending the longsword sailing away. he hopped back from the attack, planning to cut off any chance to retrieve the blade. "All that rage and you lose your fucking blade. You fucking lose- "

Jaune didn't go for the blade, didn't even give it a second glance as he kept charging. Falkirk aimed a chop at the space between the charging teens shoulder plate, just because he needed him alive didn't mean he needed that arm.

Clang! His sword went as it banged off a white light, a series of cracks spread over Jaunes body before shattering. He was equally unprepared for the sheath turning into a shield or for it to slam into his body. Along with two hundred pounds of flesh and armor. Falkirk was lifted off his feet, sword lost as he quickly felt the wooden wall smash and explode behind him.

Gravity came into play as the knight lost floor to sprint on and the two crashed to the grass floor below. Falkirk gaped as he felt pain lancing his stomach, his wound hurting even worse than before. A weight collapsed onto his front giving him just enough time to see the first fist slam into his face. The instinct from many drunken tavern brawls had him lifting his arms over his head as the knight wailed on him.

"YOU BASTARD! YOU'RE A DEAD MAN!" The boy screamed as he swung his fists wildly at him. the blows might have been wild and uncontrolled, but covered in metal gauntlets they hurt like hell.

No more trying to take him alive, it was time to focus on survival! Falkirk waited for the next blow before shifting his torso to the side and bucked his hips. His stomach screamed for the move but it was worth it as the boy was thrown off. Rolling over he got and slugged the boy hard, his head rocking to the side. He hit him again and again and watched with glee as blood flew from his mouth. As the boy's eyes began to lose consciousness, he clamped his hands around his throat.

Jaune's eyes snapped open and his hands came up to grasp at his hands. The boy was strong, he'd give him that, couldn't snap his neck like he'd been planning to but the pressure was already applied. The air was no longer flowing and once that happened long enough death was soon to follow. The boy bucked and kicked underneath him but Falkirk was bigger and stronger. He wasn't being thrown off.

"I hope this was all fucking worth it." Falkirk said as he squeezed the life out of him. applying more pressure as one of the boy's hands fell away "Hope being a hero was everything you wanted because this is how it ends. No fame, no glory, certainly no fawning women. Just you strangled to death in the middle of nowhere. Where's your confidence now boy? Where's you-YAAAGAH!?"

Metal bits of hell grasping at his innards, the boy's glove having punched through. Instinctively he fell back to get away from the pain and the boy gasped as his throat was released Falkirk grasped at his stomach screaming in agony as he lay on his side. He could feel himself getting weaker, could feel the toll of his injuries adding up. He needed to get out of here, needed to run if he was to survive. Fuck Vault, he'd flee the country to get away from him.

He'd just gotten up to his knees when a great weight crashed into his back sending him to his belly. The pain was indescribable, the air in his lungs driven out preventing him even the comfort of screaming. He'd begun to inhale when metal slammed into his throat.

Falkirk grasped at the vambraces as they dug into his throat, tried to pull them away. But the boy had the lock in and he was just so tired. He felt the boys body shift side to side as he struggled to toss him, but the boy was like a mabari war hound, he just wouldn't let go.

"You enjoy this right?" A voice spoke into his ear, his blood shot eyes going wider at the sound. He vaguely recognized it as the boy. "You enjoy watching them suffer, watching as they lose everything, watching as they realize they've lost everything. That despair, the way in which you take your time, it must get you off, more than anything else. This is how you should die, it's what you deserve."

His throat was on fire and his hands scratched the nails away at the knight's armor. He'd trade all the gold in the world for one breath of air.

The pressure removed itself and he collapsed to the ground, gasping in gulps sweeter tasting than any.

His heart seized in place as he felt the hands grab the back of his head and chin. "I'm not you, I won't make you die slow. Just fast."

He felt his head tilt, felt as it was snapped in the other direction as his spine grinded and snapped. It was so much louder on the receiving end. And as the light faded and he felt the icy hands of darkness reach for him, only then did he know true pain.

Jaune collapsed onto his back as his heart pounded, his chest burned and his throat struggled handle lungs full of air. He didn't need a mirror to know that a ring of bruises was around his throat, nor that has face was beaten to shit. Aura or not he was going to be hurting for the next few days.

"Jaune! are you okay? Is…is it over" A voice called up above him. he struggled to look up. he saw a mop of blonde hair in the window.

"Lily." Jaune wheezed out still struggling to rise. "Get down and help Dietrich."

"What? I can't hear you. Please speak up."

Jaune's head snapped up as he yelled. "GET DOWNSTAIRS, DIETRICH IS HURT! HE NEEDS HELP!"

Lily didn't need to be told twice, the girl vanishing from sight. With a groan Jaune pushed himself up and headed back towards the house. He climbed back up through the hole, barely keeping himself upright as his foot hit the edge of a plank.

"Oh gods." Jaune said as he pulled himself back into the house, his heart falling at the sign before him. Dietrich laid out on the floor almost motionless, his clothes soaked in blood. A vicious cut could be seen through all the red cutting a diagonal line across him. Lily had ripped a sheet from one of the furnishings and was doing her best to stem the flow. Prim was also in the room, but where Lily was preserving life, she instead was ending it. A new spear in hand she was moving from body to body silencing any that showed signs of life. One that was trying to crawl its way back outside had only seconds to scream before she silenced him. she gave him a cursory glance but otherwise kept to her bloody task.

"Jaune…that you boy?" Dietrich asked from where he was laying, his eyes unfocused and glossy.

The question snapped him out of his stupor. He couldn't just stand there like a chump, he needed to act! "I'm here Dietrich. You hold on I'll get the medical supplies."

He was running even as he heard Dietrich weakly call to him. he vaulted bodies and destroyed furniture to run into the kitchen. He almost tore the cupboard door off the wall and grabbed the tin box he'd seen the man use earlier. Sprinting back into the living room he fell to one knee hand already digging out the gauze. "Alright Lily, we need to wrap his torso and cover up the cut. Undo his leather straps of his armor."

"Jaune, we can't do that."

Jaune wasn't hearing it, a length of cloth already be rolled out. "Come on Lily there's no time for this. he might only have a few minutes we need to halt the bleeding."

"Jaune." Lily said a bit more forcefully, Jaune halting at the hoarse sadness in her tone. "We can't undo his armor. It's the only thing holding him together."

She pulled her sheet back a bit and Jaune had to hold himself back from hurling. The cut had gone deeper than simply flesh, Jaune could actually see the collar of the mans bones sliced in to. It was only for a second as Lily reapplied the cloth but Jaune saw what she meant. There was no way to bind the wound without killing him.

"Okay then. We'll just…try something else." Jaune said as he felt the panic rise in his voice. He grasped at his gauntlet glove ripping it off. He placed it on Dietrich "I just have to awaken his aura, if I do his body should heal, enough to keep him alive and get him help." He stretched his hand out towards him, this cantankerous man who he'd spent so much time arguing with, yelling at and fighting beside. He held onto hope as he saw Celestines mark glowing weakly.

Hope turned to alarm as a hand snatched at his wrist and halted its movement. "Dietrich, what the hell are you doing? Let go."

The old man was staring tiredly at him, his body seeming so much smaller than before. The effort of holding the teens arm seemed a herculean effort. "That's enough Jaune, you can stop. We both know it's over."

"No, it's not." Jaune said in denial, his hand hovering over the bleeding man's chest. He could have ripped free, could have done so easily but he feared what that might do. "I can stop your bleeding; I can save you."

"No, you can't. and even if you could I don't want you to." Dietrich wheezed out. He looked jaune in the eye, his gaze sharp and focused. "Life is too painful for me to want to stay. Jaune every person I ever loved or cared for is dead. I'm an old man far past his time. Only my duty kept me going in this shitty place, and now that is done. I'm done."

Jaune moved to speak but Dietrich cut him off, his grip tightening. "Now Jaune I need you to listen and listen well, I've only got moments left. There's a pouch of gold hidden in the floor under the third stall in the stables, take it for your journey. Your coin should be in there…to let the legion know your to be trusted. Once you have what you need, I want you to burn my house down. There are documents and codes hidden in the walls that can't fall into enemy hands. Promise me you'll do this."

"Dietrich- "

"Promise me Jaune!" Dietrich said pulling on the arm hard before he fell back his chest wracked with coughs. He let go of Jaunes arm to weak to hold it anymore.

Jaunes hand hovered over the man's chest, indecision on his face. After a moment he pulled it away and let it fall to his side. "I promise Dietrich. Your people will be warned and your house destroyed."

"Good hack-hack, that's good." The old man said as he relaxed backwards, his face growing pale. "Jaune, you are a terrible spy…oblivious to subtlety and lacking in control. One of the worst I ever worked with. But you're also a good man, and you do what's right even when it costs you. Don't ever lose that."

Dietrich's eyes were unfocused shifted over to Lily, eyes staring at the blonde girl. "Lily?" His voice asked weakly as he began to lose sight.

"Yes?" She replied, bloody hands still pressed to his torso. Dietrich struggled to get the words out, fighting as hard as he'd been before being cut down.

The words came out quiet, almost a whisper. "I'm sorry, for what I did to you. And the others to, I'm so sorry."

Lily was still for a moment, a myriad of emotions playing across her face. Anger, shame and guilt being a few. But they all fell away to simple sadness. A hand lifted from the dying mans chest to the side of his head. Her digits gently brushed the side of his head. "I forgive you, Dietrich Von Everret. For all that I can forgive. Go, and may you rest in peace."

Almost as if he'd been waiting for that permission, his head tilted to the side and his eyes closed as his body relaxed. His last breath was gentle, chest rising and falling one last time as he succumbed to his injuries. His body fell still and Dietrich Von Everret passed from this world.

The trio watched the house burn to the backdrop of the setting sun, the flames burning high with the aid of oil and hay. Dietrich had been laid out on the floor; a simple cloth cast over him with his arms folded over his chest. They'd made sure to finish off any survivors that had been outside the house, but once that was done, they stripped their dead comrades' home of anything valuable as he'd told them to. Once they'd looted the place properly, jaune had taken one last look at Dietrich's fallen form before he tossed a lightened torch and set the place ablaze. Dietrich's body burned in the place he called his home, along with the many corpses of those who'd fallen with him. If the trio heard any screams of pain from dogs who'd been unconscious when they'd lit the place up, they ignored it.

Lily stood off a bit further from the two, her face hidden behind the cloth of her sleeve. Jaune had made to go over to her, but Prim had stopped him, said she'd need a moment to herself. Jaune gave it her, in truth he wanted a moment as well. So much had happened in such a short while, it was difficult to run it through his mind. He was glad to be alive, but he felt guilt lying underneath it. it was a feeling he was becoming accustomed to.

Jaune was staring at the impromptu fire intently, eyes focused on the dancing flames. It was hard to look away, but he did as he felt a small tug on his sleeve. He found Prims blue eyes meeting his, a stoic look on her face. "We should get ready to leave soon. The fire might attract unwelcome company."

"Soon enough, just a few more moments. I don't anyone else will be coming at the moment." Jaune turned his eyes back to the flames, a surprising emptiness of emotionless inside him as he watched the wood creak and burn.

Prim hesitated as her eyes were drawn to the knight's face, parts hidden by the shadows cast from the burning home. "His death wasn't your fault Jaune. You did your best to save him, and to save us."

"And my best still wasn't enough." Jaune replied, a bitterness in his tone.

Your right, it wasn't. And it won't always be in the future." Jaune turned back to look at her, but Prim was now looking away towards the huddled groups of peasants below, those pointing and gesturing in their direction. "The path you've taken is a hard one, likely to fail. They'll be more fights ahead, more battles to win. And even if you succeed in the long run, there will be casualties. You can't save everyone Jaune."

"I know that. I mean, intellectually I did. It's not the same as actually seeing it firsthand. I know that I won't be able to help everyone. But I still want to. Is it wrong to want that?" Jaune asked her.

Prim was silent for a moment, contemplating the question. "It's not, it isn't wrong to want to save everyone. Naïve, perhaps even foolish but not wrong. It's what I wanted to do, before all of this happened. I wanted to help my people, to make their lives better."

Prim's grip tightened on her spear and she turned and met the knight's gaze. "You're still planning to head north? To try and fight Vault?"

Jaune nodded, determination radiating from him. "Yes, I can't turn back after all of this. Especially after seeing what these bastards have done."

Prim simply closed her eyes and let out a sigh. Her hand tightened around her spear and her eyes opened with the same determination. "Then I want to come with you."

"You don't have to if you don't want to. You don't owe me anything for doing what's right." Jaune said earnestly. "I can still get you over the border, especially with Falkirk and his men dead. I thought that's what you wanted?"

"I did. And a part of me still does if I'm being honest. I won't pretend I'm not scared. Scared that I'll die, scared that I'll become their slave again. A big part of me just wants to run."

"But you asked me a question earlier today. Was there anything worth saving here? Before I wasn't sure, but I know the answer is yes." Prim shifted a bit where she stood, but the look she gave him was one of determination. "I want to save Alicia; I want to save my friends and my people. I don't want to simply become a political pawn for someone else to use. And I want to see Vault's head on a pike. That I want as much as anything, and going with you I feel is the only chance I'll have to see that."

Prim stepped closer to him and extended her free arm out to him. "I'll walk this path with you, wherever it might lead. I'll fight by your side and give you my aid, if you'll have me."

Jaune looked down at her hand, so small and dainty in the glow of the flames. He reached out and clasped it with his own. "Of course."

Prim smiled, a true smile with no fear or violence guiding it. It was beautiful. "I'm glad to hear it. Now the journey north will be long, so before we leave, I think there's somewhere we need to go first…"

The gate sentry leaned tiredly on his crutch, watching for movement from his post on Carnstein's gate while trying to ignore the dull pain emanating from his leg. When things had gone to shit during the meetings he'd been in the thick of the fighting when a mace had taken him in the side of the knee. The pain and had been excruciating then and he'd promptly passed out from it. though he still cursed whatever bastard had smashed his knee to shit a part of him was relieved it got him out of Falkirk's mission. The gruff man had taken one look at him and pointed to the tower, ordering him to make himself fucking useful and keep watch. A part of him had wanted to slip away to partake in the villagers with the others, but the bigger part of him wanted to keep breathing. Last thing he needed right now was to be caught disobeying orders. Falkirk had taken the majority of the others and had headed off to retrieve their wayward princess.

That had been hours ago when the sun was still high. It was dark, almost night time now and the sentry was finding himself getting nervous. He'd expected the man back by now. It was almost a relief when he spotted a small column of people marching down the road, a wagon trundling in the middle. "Oy you lot, get sharp. We got company marching on us."

The men sitting at the gate stopped what they were doing and looked up at him. one of them, a fresh recruit of 18 who'd just joined today yelled back up at him. "Is it our boys? Is the captain with him."

"Not sure, its bloody dark out there. Give me a second…" the sentry drawled off as he turned back to stare, eyes squinting in the distance. There were far fewer than had been this morning, he couldn't really recognize them from this distance. They were all battered and covered up, weapons held apathetically in their hands. It seemed odd, but that was lost as his eyes widened when he saw the pink hair sitting in the wagon. There was only one person he knew that had that color of hair. "They've got the princess with them, that must be our boys! Open the gates!"

The men hopped to it as the sentry hobbled down from his position. Word spread quickly and the remaining men walked (or in many cases hobbled) their way out to greet them. The man leading the columns head was wrapped in gauze, a red cloak over his shoulders and bloody patches stained through the medical cloth. The sentry was confused for a moment but relaxed seeing his commander's familiar sword resting on his hip. More men were focused on the princess, her clothes stained with blood and shaking in fear. Another blonde girl was seated next to her, he assumed it was the traitor Falkirk had been cursing. A part of him grinned to see her, she had a lot to make up for all the shit that had gone down. He already had a few ideas of what that would be.

The sentry took a step towards the group, his crutch balanced unevenly on the stone. Taking a moment to secure his balance he raised a hand in greeting. "Well met commander, I see you got our princess back. by her being here I can guess you were successful."

Falkirk nodded and grumbled something but behind his bandages it came out as an indecipherable mutter. His horse trotted a bit back and forth, the horse acting a bit agitated. "Someone grab the commanders horse. I'm sure he'd like to step down." The sentry said as something niggled at the back of his mind. Something seemed off to him as the young recruit ran up to take the horses reigns from him, the commander stepping down from his seat. He focused on the man as his boots hit the floor and his hand came to rest on the hilt of his blade.

It was a second to late that he realized what was wrong. the commander was about six inches shorter than he'd been when he'd left this morning. "GET AWAY FROM HIM!"

The warning was too little, too late. Before the teen had time to respond the falchion had been drawn, the curved blade slicing through him like butter. Men who'd drawn to close to the wagon found their fake comrades cutting them down as unfamiliar faces appeared from behind shawls and cloaks. Fake Falkirk reached up to his face and pulled his cloth away.

The blonde knight, Jaune he thinks Falkirk had referred to him stood before him. The sentry drew his blade and yelled out, trying to salvage the situation. "FALL BACK TO ME DOGS, SHIELDS OUT FRONT!"

Those who hadn't been cut down did as they were told, the men coming to surround him. The teen didn't chase after them, instead choosing to stare at them as more men came to see what the commotion was. The other citizens were watching from the sides and the windows and since the surprise assault had happened, he felt his confidence return. "Nice trick of yours, pretending to be the commander. I can assume he's dead?"

"You assume correctly. I killed him personally. And all of his men." The boy said staring at them, far to at ease for a man in enemy territory. "You'll all be joining him soon enough."

"Will we now, I don't see how. You've got maybe two dozen peasants at your back, armed with stolen blades they've never used. Your surrounded and facing men at a rate of three to one." The sentry replied, a wicked grin on his face. "Surrender and we'll make your death quick."

Jaune let out a harsh laugh as he unclasped his cloak, the cloth falling to the ground. "You think we should surrender? I don't see that happening and your wrong about the men behind me. The men at my back aren't mere peasants, they are men of Two Rivers, fathers and brothers whose family and friends you've enslaved, who's crops and gold you stole. Their armed and ready take back what is theirs. And none of you are the equal to them, Falkirk took every man who could swing a blade with him to his grave. All I see are those he deemed to weak, injured or cowardly to fight. How about you surrender, and in exchange we'll let you live one more day."

There was a shuffling of movement around him, and the sentry felt his men's resolve waver. He couldn't let them fall apart. "Your still outnumber, even if you had nights at your back the odds would be against you. This is your final chance to surrender. If you can understand your position, I would take my offer of mercy."

He growled the last part out, attempting to intimidate the young man. For a moment it seemed to work as Jaune allowed the falchion to fall from his hand. Glee turned to surprise though as he drew his own blade from his hip, his sheathe inexplicably morphing into a shield.

"I don't think you understand us. You think us outnumbered. By what? Sixty, maybe seventy men. I on the other hand count hundreds of other people in this town, no Falkirk to oppress them and every one of them ready to be free of your chains. You think you have an advantage but your wrong. We're not outnumbered, you are."

The man felt his throat go dry and became aware of all the many eyes looking at him. he opened his mouth to respond but was cut off by a wet gurgling noise behind him. One of the whores, naked and covered in mud and cum had slipped close by and grabbed a dagger from a mercs belt and jammed it into his neck. The stabbed man grasped at his neck and hacked as blood spurted from the wound before he slid to the floor. The woman, hands bloody and eyes wide shrunk back as a soldier rounded on her, a thick club raised to smash her down. He stopped in mid-swing as an arrow took him in the back of the head, his body splatting face first in the mud. He turned around and saw the princess standing tall, the bow she'd hidden under her dress being loaded for the next shot.

He felt his veins turn cold as he saw Jaune advancing on him, the peasants following behind him. all around him he heard footsteps as more and more people came from their homes, holding anything they had on hand that could bludgeon and slice. Hammers, knives rocks and far more than that were held by the hateful people. Jaune raised his blade up high and before the mob closed in on, he spoke one last time.

"You should have taken the offer."

The mob roared and charged in and as day gave way to night, the blood of traitors flowed in Carnstein once more.

Happy belated 4th of July everybody, the chapter I promised a month and a half ago is finally here. Things have gotten crazy at work and I've been a bit lazy in getting this out. To say nothing of it being about four pages longer than average. Thank you for everyone who was so patient in waiting for this to come out, your support is always appreciated.

So, Falkirk and Dietrich, I'm sure you all saw their deaths coming, but not exactly the epic sword duel you thought might happen. It was originally how I saw it happen but I felt it would have been a bit forced. I felt a rough and tumble brawl was better suited for this fight. A straight up fight between Jaune and Falkirk I believe would have probably ended poorly for our hero. He's just not at that level yet. And even without it was a close thing. As for Dietrich, I think his end was about as good as I could have written for him. His death was the first good guy OC I ever had die in a story and I must admit, I'm a bit sad to see him go.

Don't really have much else to say besides thanks for reading, and I hope to get the next chapter out before the month is over. I got a vacation week in Maine coming up soon though so I don't know how realistic that will be. Thank you and see you next time