When the class exited the passage and made it back to the less eerie space of Jeritza's room, Cetanu could feel the shift in everyone's energy.
Everyone was happier, and feeling all of that energy brought him a sense of ease and relief.
"Beelzebub, take them to the infirmary. The rest of you, go get-"
"Professor!"
The demon rose a brow, turning to see Dimitri running into the room, as if he was in a rush. His face was flush, and his breathing was slightly labored.
"Is Manuela alright?" he asked, concerned for the other teacher. It would be a shame to see a specimen such as Manuela fall prey to a lowly cretin like Jeritza. A true shame.
He nodded, inhaling deeply as his body relaxed from the run. "She will recover. They said that she'll need to take it easy and not drink for a few days and I think that is more of an issue for her than the knife wound." he said, a lighthearted smile across his features.
Cetanu's glance moved to the rest of the class, particularly Ashe. His progeny seemed dazed, daydreaming and not focusing on the conversation being held.
"Everyone, go get some rest. I still need to inform Seteth and Rhea that we found Flayn. You all did amazing today." he said, and they all seemed to perk up at his compliment.
Even Bernadetta, who offered a timid wave to Dimitri as she left with Annette.
When Dimitri managed to snap his gaze from Bernadetta's petite frame, he looked to his teacher.
Cetanu was smiling.
Normally the smiles that the demon allowed himself were born of his love of violence. The kind of smiles that are used to intimidate others and make himself seem more nefarious. However, the smile on his face now was genuine, a lighthearted expression that belied actual happiness.
"I… don't think I've ever seen you look so happy, Professor." he said, and the demon kept the smile on his face as he focused on Dimitri.
No.
Sothis' voice rang in his head, but he inwardly rolled his eyes, trying to shoo the girl away from the forefront of his mind.
"Is there a problem with that?" he asked, genuinely curious. He didn't ever really show normal human happiness, so he had no idea if it would be unwelcome because he was normally a stone wall or deranged monster.
Dimitri shook his head. "Not at all. It's… mesmerizing."
Cetanu rose a brow at that. Was that… a compliment? He wasn't the most accustomed to them, especially not when they were coming from one of his students.
He watched Dimitri shake his head, his face once again flush.
NO.
Sothis was beginning to annoy him.
"My apologies. I forget myself, I shouldn't let a simple smile shake my composure." he said, and Cetanu hummed at that.
He did infact need to report to Seteth and Rhea. Let the green haired man know that his sister was safe, and let Rhea know that she could halt the search for the girl Monastery wide. But… with all of the damage he suffered and the amount of Fleshcrafting he had to do to repair himself from his fight, he had a more pressing issue.
The kind of issue a strong, healthy, flush faced young man could help him with.
When Cetanu smiled again, he could feel his fangs pressing into his bottom lip.
Seteth had a frown on his face.
He was truly thrilled that Flayn was returned safe, her injuries very, very minor compared to Manuela and that other girl. He was thrilled that the Blue Lions had succeeded where the Knights of Seiros had come up short and eased his fears and worries.
He hated the fact that it was Cetanu at the helm of that operation.
"I am truly grateful to you for rescuing my dear sister." he said, and Cetanu bowed, showing Seteth a sign of respect that he normally didn't.
"It was our duty. I couldn't have accomplished anything without the tireless work of my students and the Knights of Seiros." he said, and Seteth inhaled.
"You are not mortal, and as much as I wish that I could end your life right now, I must digress. You have done me a great favor, and I am… indebted to you."
Cetanu nodded his head, his composure rigid and almost unnatural.
"Think nothing of it. I would not wish to see harm come to Flayn, the same as you." he noted, and Seteth sighed.
"To think that others that know of the secrets of Flayn's blood would target her…" he mumbled, more to himself. Cetanu's brow rose, but he remained silent. He wondered what Flayn's blood was actually capable of, since the Death Knight and this 'Flame Emperor' targeted her specifically.
Was the Flame Emperor a Blood Demon, just like him?
"With this knowledge in the open, it seems that our only option is to flee the Monastery and go into hiding. We must evade these monsters at all costs." he said, and Cetanu rose a brow at that. He made it sound like something that they'd been doing for a rather long time. It was solemn and yet rehearsed, as if he knew it would happen.
"No Brother!"
Cetanu's silent stare shifted to see Flayn enter the room, bandaged and tired but still determined and stalwart. She had a furrowed brow and a frown on her youthful features.
"Flayn! What are you doing!? You should be resting." he said, and Cetanu watched him closely. He was coddling her and scolding her at the same time. It was odd for siblings to act in this fashion, and it made him ponder something else given their large physical gap in appearance.
Was Flayn really his sister? Or was she his daughter?
Ignoring the thought for now, he turned back to the conversation as the green haired duo went back and forth.
"I am tired of fleeing and hiding! I do not want to go anywhere that I will be alone ever again!" she said, fighting through her pained body and drowsiness to refuse to run away. It was an adamant attitude that Cetanu honestly respected. He too understood this mindset.
Neither him or the Ashen Wolves wanted to go anywhere, no matter how many people knew what they were and where they were. None could separate him from that which was his. His Class.
"It is not safe here anymore! They took you in the dead of night and held you in secret for a month! We can't take the risk of that happening again, what if they kill you!?"
Seteth was incredibly impassioned by this. Cetanu understood the paranoia that he felt. It was one of the many emotions that seeped into his being when he was initially turning and repairing Ashe. The thought that he might fail and leave Ashe either dead or in even worse shape than he found him in haunted him.
"That won't happen! Everyone here is plenty strong, and you all care enough to search and fight for me." she said, placing her hands on her hips.
The posture and her goofy appearance convinced Cetanu that she was speaking to her father. It was quite odd, but he assumed that it would make sense once he learned more about the two of them.
"Infact, I think I would be no safer than I would be in the Blue Lions classroom."
Cetanu's thoughts shattered, his eyes focusing like a predator when he sees his chosen prey.
"The Blue Lions…"
Seteth looked to him as he trailed. He knew what Cetanu was. He knew that the reason that they took Flayn was because of her blood. He couldn't let this happen.
"Absolutely. If I were to join the Professor's class, I feel that I will be the safest. They were the ones that found me after all." she said, and Seteth conceded. He couldn't argue that. It was a reasonable statement.
"I would be honored to have your sister in my class." Cetanu said, dropping to one knee and bowing his head.
He did not not out of respect, but out of happiness.
A cheshire grin spread across his face, his eyes wild as his hair blocked their view of his face.
This was the most incredibly easy thing he'd experienced.
He'd spent months looking for the Crest of Cethleann, and a simple month of cat and mouse led him to having the Crest right there in front of him.
His inner Fiend was howling with sickening laughter at this. The last piece of the puzzle. The final Saint Crest, and a Major one at that. Asking to join his class. It was almost as if she bared her neck to him.
He'd just fed earlier, but if Flayn's Crest bearing blood could be imbibed, he would certainly make room for seconds.
The moon was high over Garreg Mach, peering into the training grounds as the looming Battle of the Eagle and Lion approached. It was to be held at the end of this month, and all focus was put on it. Elite healers for injured students, soldiers trained to be led by the students to test their knowledge of battle formations and so on.
With the moon lighting his surroundings, Ashe remained alone and sighed. He had used the mission to practice his magickal prowess, but he wondered exactly how useful it would be in an actual competitive match. He knew that he would challenge many of his fellow students, and wanted to be the biggest threat he could.
Cetanu had already told him about Caspar leaving for Sreng to train with Rathalos. This lit a fire under the fledging Blood Demon, who wanted to make sure that if he faced Caspar a third time he came out on top once again.
His appetite was another issue he had. He found himself constantly hungry, and even with the necklace he wore to restrain himself and Anchor himself, he found himself peckish all the time. Resisting the urge to simply stroll into Claude's quarters and drain him dry was something that helped by making him focus with more and more intent than ever before.
He chose to think about his fellow students, and who he wanted to face in single combat.
Petra was an interesting option, as he could learn something from her unique, foreign style and techniques. It was certainly better than trying to survive a magickal onslaught from Hubert or facing Lindhardt, who he knew he could have defeated as a child five years ago.
This left Ferdinand because Dorothea was not a factor to him. It would be a good fight, but for some reason, the Blood Demon got the feeling that Caspar was a better match for him. Ferdinand's honor bound personality would make him weak. He wasn't willing to sink as low as the former ruffian, and that would stop him from being victorious.
The Golden Deer never really crossed his mind. Sure, Ignatz and Claude would be good foes in a battle of archers, and Leonie would be an interesting opponent because of her relation to his sire's father, but none of the other females in the class or the slow, easily avoidable Raphael gave him much pause.
That left Lorenz, who Ashe thought it would be incredibly satisfying to get his hands on. The kind of noble that Lorenz was is exactly the kind of noble that people like Ashe dreaming of breaking both mentally and physically.
His training stopped when he thought about another opponent. The one that was at the forefront of his mind ever since his recovery. The one that he felt a connection of some kind to, but also felt a desire to completely destroy that he wasn't entirely sure came from his inner Fiend.
Edelgard.
He wanted to face her. It was odd, that the one he wanted to fight the most was a woman, but with his Sire's former desire to face Rhea in single combat, he understood. The haughty Princess was making herself a nuisance by tormenting Bernadetta and trying to incite Dimitri's anger. Trying to question his newly obtained noble status also brought him a sense of disdain for her. He wanted to fight her at her best.
He wanted to defeat her in the middle of Gronder Field, smack in the middle of her own Empire for the whole of Fodlan to see.
For the Almyran servant to the Archbishop known as Cyril, every day was a mixed bag.
On one hand, he had to suffer the constant hatred that he received from all of the staff and students at Garreg Mach. A child of the seafaring savages that plague the Alliance, brown skinned like the villains from Duscur, a foreign cur with no loyalty to the Empire. He was wanted by none, and hated by all.
Except for one.
The other hand of his mixed bag was the Archbishop. When he ended up in Fodlan, she personally took him in. True he was but a servant, but he had clothes on his back and a home. He spent his days working for and praising the woman that saved and bettered his life.
He'd have died in a raid if he stayed in Almyra for all he knew.
Which is why when he heard Lorenz Hellman Gloucester and his posse talking ill of the Archbishop, he had to make his voice heard.
It was a terrible idea.
He came upon them badmouthing the Archbishop, speaking foul things about how she looked in her robes. When one of Lorenz's goons said something about the Archbishop being on her knees praying to something that wasn't the Goddess, he immediately raised his voice.
Of course, one adolescent servant taking on five young adult nobles was never going to end well.
He was immediately jumped and beaten down, his assigned chores and tasks albeit forgotten to him.
It was kind of hard to remember what you were supposed to be doing when heeled boots were digging into your body.
He was dragged to his feet, and the purple haired noble with the oddly angular features frowned at him, his friends restraining his arms and yanking his hair so that he could look up at Lorenz.
"What exactly do you think you are?"
Cyril grit his teeth, the pain throbbing across his body annoying him and the fact he couldn't get his hands on the noble one on one driving him insane.
"I'm more of a man than you'll ever be!" he shouted, a fist slamming into his jaw and rocking him, his friends picking him up to his knees.
"You are nothing! You Almyran savages are barely even human with your foul mouths, disrespectful attitudes and lack of respect!" he shouted, kicking Cyril in the gut and dropping him to the ground.
A boot was placed against his skull, the heel grinding into his temple against the courtyard's stone walkway. It hurt and ground the flesh of his face against stones that were tearing away at him. He'd have to think up an excuse for Rhea. She couldn't know.
"Give me one reason why I shouldn't cave in your pathetic skull, Dog!"
Cyril could barely move, being held against the ground by four people with a fifth's boot across his face. He cursed his powerlessness right now. If only he was bigger, stronger, smarter, older.
So, he did the only thing an angry child could do. Something stupid.
"Because nobody else can tend to your mother like me!" he shouted from beneath the boot. Lorenz grit his teeth and balled his fists.
"First Claude and now you! You Almyrans are always tainting the Alliance, Fodlan and my presence with your disgusting presence! We have to suffer while you dirty our land with your savage attitudes and disgusting brown skin! I'm sick of it!" he shouted, lifting his boot up high.
Suddenly, the sun disappeared.
Lorenz hesitated in that moment, wondering how it got so dark so fast.
That's when he saw a lock of hair start to swing next to his face.
The shadow over the sun was a person. A very, very large person.
The four boys let Cyril go in shock and fear at the sight of the man, Lorenz slowly turning around and realizing that he had to crane his neck back. He was tall himself, so this man was gigantic.
He was also incredibly muscular, his bare arms completely solid muscle.
Muscle encased in a vessel of ebony flesh.
"Touch the boy again and I will make you wish that Death would save you."
The accent was heavy, the tones dragging with his anger and disdain. They all backed up, Cyril coughing as his body fell limp to the ground.
"Wh-who are you!? You cannot threaten me!" Lorenz shouted, and the man cast his gaze to Cyril. He whipped his head back to the five noble brats.
"You do not possess the power to stop me, little boy." he said, reaching down and grabbing Cyril by the back of his shirt with one hand.
Even while crouched down with a small child in his hand, the man was still much larger than them.
"This boy is now a member of the Grigoi's Vodun Division. Any action taken against him is an action against myself, Baron Samedi Guedhe, Captain of the Vodun. It is also an action against my superior, Samyaza Crowley, His superior Jeralt Eisner, and by extension all of the Mercenaries of Jeralt, Knights of Seiros, All Grigoi, All of House Formorian, and Balor Ashe Ubert's mentor Cetanu Eisner. Do not bother him again."
Lorenz scoffed and took a step forward.
"That does not scare me! If I am disrespected by that cur, I will see to it that he suffers for his transgressions." he said, and Samedi simply stared.
"You sure about that? Sammy is a lot nicer than the rest of us. You should listen to him." he heard, seeing a woman in white armor with shimmering hair approach. She too was massive, towering over him and making him realize just how small he was.
"You know, one of my Norns has a thing for guys like you. Hideous, haughty noble upstarts that think that you're just a few years away from ruling the world and being untouchable." she said, and she leaned down to look him in the eyes.
"If I ever hear you talking down of someone because of the color of their skin, I'll let her bend you over with the shaft of her axe. Do you hear us, Little Boy?"
Lorenz hesitated, and realized that this wasn't a battle to fight right now. He could simply wait. He knew enough just by the giant telling him his name.
The Cemetery In The Sky was not a man to be trifled with, and neither was the Queen of Storms, Bestla Kirinmir. He had to wait until they left, turned their backs… perhaps wait until Cyril stepped onto Alliance land.
Lorenz turned to walk away, stopping again when he saw all of his friends laid out, Ashe Ubert standing with his right wrist in his left hand. He cast him a gaze, one filled with disgust and hatred.
He walked past him, the two giants following him with Cyril in Samedi's hand. He realized in that moment that Ashe was what a noble was supposed to be.
A man that commands respect, and has even the most vile and terrifying demons follow his lead. A man that makes those beneath him silence themselves and simply wait to be dismissed.
Just like him.
Lorenz grit his teeth and balled his fists once more. There was no way.
Ashe was not a noble. He was a ruffian, an urchin that clung to the first sorry man that would fall for his pathetic act.
And Lonato did, and Ashe killed him for it.
Lorenz stared at the Balor of Formorian's back and made a silent vow in that moment.
He would kill Ashe in the Battle of the Eagle and Lion.