Reviews:

demonic hellfire: Charlotte is definitely going to be suspicious of what went down.

Pyromania101: Both of them will be getting new gear this chapter to help on their travels.

Greyjedi449t: Thanks, here it is.

Shikyo no Kyoufu: You're not an idiot while there are dark events that will happen later on, I do hope to aim for a more bittersweet tone by the ending.

Greer123: I'm very happy that you enjoyed it. Thank you.

Lawbringer: Not a problem. Happy to hear it.

Guest: Thank you, I'm happy to hear.

Eliqa: I'm glad that you like it, and I have gone back to correct the spelling of apostles, so it should all be good now.

Necrogod: No problem. The end of this chapter starts a divergence of sorts.

Disclaimer- Harry Potter is owned by J.K. Rowling and Berserk is owned by Kentaro Miura. I own nothing.

The Skull Knight's steed rode much faster than any horse alive. Its skeletal, but strong legs easily carried both of its occupants with no sign of strain. Guts knew that he had ran a great distance, it had been hours of running, but the horse seemed to leap entire miles as it traversed the terrain he had previously. Before Guts knew it, they were whizzing by Godo's hut and nearing a cliff.

"They are here," Skull Knight informed as he reined his horse to a stop. Guts wasted no time jumping off and running to where the spirits circled two figures, each had a thin trail of blood running from where the Godhand's brand had struck them.

With Guts in possession of Harry's sword, the boy had armed himself with a standard sword that must have been lying around Godo's workshop. He was trying to keep the circling spirits from reaching Casca, but with his leg still in a cast, his movement was severely limited, making his strikes fall short of their targets. But, any that happened to get close to Casca seemed to sense something about her, something that kept them from trying to fully possess her body.

Guts wasted little time in rushing over to them, cutting a few spirits as he went. "Casca!" he yelled as she suddenly fell to her knees, clutching her stomach. The spirits backed off and took to circling the three of them like watery buzzards looking to swoop down any moment to deliver the kill.

"What's wrong with her?" Harry asked, finally able to stop trying to ward off the spirits. "She wasn't like this a few moments ago. She had wandered out of the cave, so I followed." Even with the state his leg was in, he had followed.

"She should not have left that cave." Skull Knight spoke with conviction. "She would have been much safer if she had."

"Meaning?" Guts demanded. Casca had gone through enough, if there was something he could do for her, anything, he would.

Skull Knight pointed a bony finger at the brand of Guts' neck. Those brands, they act as beacons. I have told you as much, as long as you have them, as long as the being who administered the brand exists, you will never know rest, and you will never know peace. Every day when the sun sets, they will come, never to relent. That cave owned by that blacksmith, it was once inhabited by elves. Their presence still lingers, masking the beacon of the brand. It is among one of the few safe havens for you three."

"Then we have to get her back," Guts was determined. "Harry, grab her arm, and let's move her."

"That would be unwise," Skull Knight advised. "Wait until it is over."

"Until what's over?" they both asked. The answer was provided by the sight of blood beginning to drip from between Casca's legs, a look of sheer discomfort on her face. She grabbed at and tore out a few strands of grass, and she began to scream.

"Aaaaghhhhahhhahh!" something fell on the ground from between her legs. It was small and looked to be a mass of circular lumps all melded together. It lacked any real limbs, but there was a bulbous head with a lipless mouth and a single bulging eye. There was no mistaking that it looked to be some sort of underdeveloped fetus.

Harry took a step back, revolted by the sight of what he had just witnessed. Guts stared on in shock at the fetus as its one bulging eye looked him dead in his now single one as well. He turned to the Skull Knight, demanding an answer. "What the hell is this?"

"She was with child during the Eclipse. Her encounter with the Godhand's newest member corrupted it. What you see before you is a hybrid of human and demon." Skull Knight sounded almost empathetic.

"She was with child," Guts repeated. The memory of the night they had shared together came floating back to him, they had consummated the night before they sent out to rescue Griffith. Casca had been carrying his child. Had she known? He didn't know how long it took for women to figure out they were pregnant, and she hadn't said anything to him about it. Maybe she had been waiting to tell him once all the excitement had died down. Guts might never know that answer.

But huddled in the grass right now was all that was left of their child. A grotesque blob that resembled no baby, not a human one at least. "Oouu. Ouhhh."

"What's it doing?" Harry asked, not taking his eyes off of the "child."

"All newborns yearn for their parents," informed Skull Knight. "Even those of demonic nature."

Casca looked down at what she had just birthed, and she smiled. She made a move to pick it up, but Guts was faster. With his one remaining hand, he held it up to his face, examining it. Up close it was even more horrendous to look at. It was soft and slimy at his touch, and the fact that its "skin" looked to be made of blood did nothing to sooth its appearance. Was this really his and Casca's child? It looked nothing like either of them. But the eye; the eye was the same shade of brawn as his-no!

"If you value your life, you will kill it," Skull Knight looked down at him. "It will bring you nothing but misfortune if you do not."

Almost subconsciously, his fingers began to clench around the small form. It would be so easy to just kill it right now. The thing began to squirm and fidget in his grasp. All he had to do was squeeze just a little tighter…

Casca screamed and she bit Guts' thumb. She kept sinking her teeth into his flesh until he finally let go, relinquishing his hold of the thing over to her. She held it not as a monster in the making, but as any mother would hold a child. Cooing like a mother bird to her chick, Casca moved the thing to where the brand had struck her on her collarbone almost to let the thing drink her blood that was trailing from it like milk.

"Guts…I can-I can do it. If you want?" Harry offered. His face was nearly as green as his eyes, but he didn't look like he was comfortable with Guts having to face the prospect of killing what was the closest thing to his and Casca's child. "Just hold her back and I'll…" he left the rest be unspoken.

Guts made no move to subdue Casca, who seemed very content to just hold the thing in her arms like a loving mother. Time passed, and Guts just stared at her. He hated what she held in her arms, but he would not deprive her of the love she was feeling. That unconditional love for the thing-their child was about one of the only things that would remain of the woman she once was. It would be the only one he would leave alive

The sun broke through the cloud layer, and the spirits who had been circling them like hungry vultures suddenly began to disappear, like they had never existed. The same held true for the thing Casca kept a protective holdover. It began to grow transparent as the sun's rays began to shine, and the thing faded from their eyes. Casca, not understanding where the thing had gone, began to wail, crying for it to return to her.

"That was unwise," Skull Knight told him. "That child will be your undoing."

"So you say," Guts said dismissively. "But I don't plan on dying. Not until I kill him." He could be put through the worst kind s of torture, but he would not falter. His declaration of war had been made.

The Skull Knight had vanished as mysteriously as he had shown up after the spirits had faded in the rising sun. Casca, as much as it pained Harry to see, had been constricted to staying in Godo's cave under lock and key. With her mind the way it was now, it would be unsafe if she wandered out after the sun had set. It would be her haven; and her prison.

A few more days had passed since that fateful day, and Godo had done what he could to assist the surviving members of the Hawks. "Take that cast off, lad," Godo ordered Harry once he had led the residents of his home, sans Casca to his storage shed. Doing as he was told, Harry took the wrapping off his mangled right leg. Godo pulled up a chair and stool for him. Lifting his leg into position, Godo came over carrying a brave of some kind.

The blacksmith rolled up Harry's pant leg, strapping the brace into place. "Try moving it." He did, and it elicited a slight creak. "Needs some oil on it." Godo scratched at his scraggly white beard. "But it'll keep you standing; along with this." Godo handed him a walking stick of sorts, the wood was a fresh polish and felt heavier than it looked. "Pull the top up."

It was like a sword unsheathed, Harry now held a two-foot blade, the rest of the walking stick served to conceal the weapon. That wasn't the end of it though; Harry was presented with his sword once more, looking better than it had before. "Thank you."

"Thank your friend," Godo pointed a thumb over to Rickert. "He helped me design the both of 'em."

Rickert looked a bit sheepish. "I didn't imagine you'd let the injury stop you. Guts either."

"Yeah, show him what you have, papa!" Erica eagerly bounded over to a tarp-covered table. Godo patted her head and threw the tarp off. Underneath was an assortment of gear.

"I took your measurements when you were asleep, took some time to make adjustments of a prosthetic arm." Godo strapped the metal arm to the base of his elbow where Guts had severed his in an attempt to save Casca. It ended where his real arm would have. "The palm of that hand is made with a metal that sticks to others so you can grip a sword. I know you fancy a two-handed one." He pulled the wrist of down to show that the arm had a built-in secret barrel and stuffed a fist-sized metal ball inside, closing the wrist back in place. The insides filled with flammable powder, pull the string on the top and brace yourself."

"You've been busy," Guts admired his new arm.

"That isn't all," Rickert and Erica carried over a crossbow and bolts. "This crossbow can be mounted onto your arm, crack its lever and it'll fire as fast as you can turn it."

"This'll come in handy," Guts remarked. "What about a sword?"

Godo spread his arms, gesturing to all the swords lining the walls. "You should know by now." But Guts' attention was drawn to a large shape also covered by a tarp leaning against a wall.

"That one?"

Godo scoffed. "Didn't I tell you the story the day you brought the boy for his sword? That sword is meaningless if you can even call it a sword. No one can even lift it."

Guts went up to it anyway and cast the tarp covering aside. Godo was right about one thing; it was far too big to be called a sword. Too big, too thick, too heavy and too rough. It was more like a large slab of iron.

Erica trotted up to where Guts stood to admire the weapon. "That's Dragonslayer."

"That's a waste of my time, is what it is," Godo scoffed. "You might be strong, but even you can't-," Guts had grabbed the hilt of Dragonslayer, and with a grunt and a heave, lifted the massive blade.

Harry wasn't too surprised. With knowing how Guts had trained, he was always looking for bigger, heavier blades to work with. While some of his previous swords had broken in the past, this one looked like it would last for all eternity. From the way Guts was eyeing the blade, he was thinking something along those lines as well.

"It's perfect for what I need, Godo. What do you want for it?"

Godo still looked a bit perplexed that anyone had been able to lift it. "He's really doing it, papa!" Erica was happy to witness the wielding of the sword.

"That he is, Erica," Godo regained his gruff composure. "Take it with you. Put it to use; you're probably the only one who can. Rickert staying to help me in the forge is more than I could ask in my old age."

Rickert looked to Guts confused. "Wait, you're leaving?"

Guts set Dragonslayer down. "Yeah, Rickert. I'm leaving. There are things that I need to take care of."

The boy looked like he wanted to say something, but just settled with, "You'll be back, right?"

"One day." Was Guts' only response.

"So will I," Harry said. Rickert appeared more shocked by this than Guts'.

"You too?"

Harry nodded. "Yeah."

Everything Rickert was going to say to Guts, he said instead to Harry. "But what about Casca? What about all of us? We're the last of the Hawks, doesn't it make sense to stay together?"

"Casca has you and Erica," Harry pointed out. She seemed to have taken a liking to Erica, the two had been playing a child's game the other day which Casca had enjoyed. "And I'll be back one day too." Once he learned to control the magic of course.

Rickert didn't seem too convinced. "Guts was prepared to walk out on us once before; you brought him back. I would never have thought that you'd end up leaving too." Harry knew that he meant well, but he had not been there. He had not seen the people he had called friends be torn apart by those savage monstrosities. Neither Harry or Guts told Rickert what had happened during the Eclipse, just that they were the only ones who were left. It had little to do with them believing Rickert couldn't handle it, but more to do with the fact that he had been absent. He would remember the fallen as they had been, preserving their memories in the best way that he could.

"Let it be, Rickert," Godo lightly scolded. "Do you not see the passion in their eyes? I see it. I've seen it. Men always get that look in their eyes when they believe in something greater than themselves. Every time I've seen it, I see that light in the sparks of my forge. They burn as hot as any fire and can only be cooled over time." The way Godo spoke, it sounded almost like guts when he had wanted to leave the Hawks. Was Godo perhaps encouraging them to chase after their goals because he could only see the future that presented itself in the form of his forge? it was a weird thought to think about, and it made Harry see the aged blacksmith in a new light. Even with no grand dream, Godo still managed to live a content life.

Harry looked his friend in the eye. "I'll come back. I promise."

Erica rushed over to him, extending her pinkie finger to him. "Promise?"

He felt a small work its way onto his face and he took her pinkie with his own. "Promise."

The next day Harry said his farewell to Casca in Godo's cave. She had just finished playing a game of peek-a-boo with Erica, laughing and clapping all the while. "We're leaving today. I know that you probably don't understand what I'm saying, but we'll both be back one day. Guts is going to hunt them down, the ones who did this to you, who killed our friends. And me-I'm going to go look for that witch. I'll find a way to help you, I won't stop until I do."

Casca, of course, didn't seem to understand a word of what he just said. She was content to just sit there and ruffle her hair. Harry looked over to where Guts stood, leaning against the door to exit the cave. He hadn't come to say a goodbye, but the look in his eye seemed to convey all the words that he would never speak.

The three residents of the small homestead saw them off as the two set off that day. "Take care!" Erica shouted after them.

"We'll be waiting for you!" Rickert yelled out. "We'll keep Casca safe!"

Godo was little more than a whisper. "Try not to get yourselves killed out there. The world's changing."

They walked in silence for a while, neither saying a word. Before they had left, they had equipped some new clothing for their travels. Harry had settled for a grey cloak, green tunic, and dark breeches. Guts outfit consisted of all black. Black cloak, black armor, black breeches, and boots. His fight lied in the shadows; he would blend in much better this way. Harry did not know if the witch he sought would look anything like how he would perceive them to look, so he wanted to keep a neutral appearance.

"Do you really think you'll find them?" the silence was broken by Guts.

"Maybe," Harry was unsure himself, but he owed it to Casca to try. "They're just rumors, but it's all I have to go on."

He nodded.

"And you?" Harry asked. "How do you plan on finding them?"

"By tracking down their servants. If I find those apostles, they'll tell me how I can find them. How I can find him."

They walked the rest of the path in silence. Stopping only once they reached a fork in the road. Between the forks was a wooden post pointing the directions of each path. To the right would take the road back towards Windham, the left to a local village. Harry looked to the right, and Guts to the left.

"Well, I guess this is where we part ways," Harry said feeling a bit uncomfortable at the prospect of departing for an unknown amount of time, but it had to be done.

"It is," Guts affirmed.

Without thinking about it, Harry extended his hand to Guts. "Good luck on your journey then."

It took a moment, but Guts, at last, reached out and took Harry's hand in his larger one. "You too."

And they both departed down their own path. The young warlock going one way, and the Black Swordsman the other. But even as they walked different paths, the sun still set bringing with it the spirits of the damned who clamored for both of their lives as the brands on their necks bled, acting like the beacons they were. Miles separated the pair of them, but that night was filled with the sounds of steel clashing; a sleepless night for the both of them. It was to be the first of many for the aspiring warlock, and the Black Swordsman both.

A/N: That's it for this chapter. Both Harry and Guts go their separate ways to fulfill their own desires. Thank you for reading.