Chapter 7: Namedrops and murder.


"So what was it that you wanted to talk to me about?" Byleth asked softly as he shut the doors to the royal closet.

Hubert shook his head as he walked out of the royal bedroom, gesturing for Byleth to follow.

The two men walked for a while, their steps ending at the hall where Byleth had seen Emperor Ionius crown his daughter years prior.

The room was still well maintained, though the throne where Ionius had last been when Byleth had visited now sat empty, the man having been buried in his family plot.

"I suppose you haven't been here since the crowning ceremony." Hubert said quietly.

"Indeed, I have not." Byleth replied.

"There is much we have not told you over the last few months." Hubert began slowly, his face gauging for reaction on Byleth's face.

"Why are you telling me this now?"

"I was told you visited a certain Paul Hawthorne today." Hubert replied.

Byleth nodded. "That's right. What about him?"

"He's one of the few people who openly worked with Shambhala in the past."

Byleth turned his head, his face unreadable. "And you have not yet arrested him?"

"His list of crimes was longer than anyone else who played a role in the Insurrection of the Seven, but no, we have not arrested him."

"Why is that?" Byleth asked quietly.

"He's important to our plans in the future, to put it lightly."

Byleth nodded. "How did you meet him?"

"If you look deeply enough in Imperial actions in the last three decades, he's had a hand in a great number of them. As for my personal experience working with him, two incidents come to mind."

"Go on." Byleth replied.

"Firstly, he was involved with smuggling Kronya into Garreg Mach."

Byleth stood silent for a moment.

"Go on." Byleth replied, his voice stony.

"He assisted us in seizing the properties of the imperial nobles we sacked. That and ensuring none of the nobles in Enbarr escaped the city."

Byleth nodded before he turned to the throne. "So why do you think he can help us with Shambhala?"

"Because for once, we have no other answers. Over the years, we tortured the other plotters of the coup for answers, memories, any slip of the tongue on the part of Shambhala. All without anything to show for it."

"Did you torture your father?"

"No. I killed him in a moment of rage after your so called death. He spent his final moments begging for mercy. A fitting end for a disgusting animal."

Byleth nodded. "Why didn't you tell me about this earlier?"

"Because the time wasn't right to tell you. And that we were still at war."

"Hubert, I am a grown man. I have watched my father die. If there is anything else you want to tell me, I will listen."

Hubert shook his head. "I have nothing more to say. You already knew about our role in your father's death, but had we known what Kronya had planned, any of us would have killed her long before she ever stepped foot in Garreg Mach."

Byleth nodded quietly. "I thank you for being honest with me. Good night Hubert."

Hubert watched the form of the professor turn away. "You too professor."


Spite scrunched up one of a half dozen reports that had been partially dismantled and tossed it aside.

He sighed as he reclined into his chair, one of the few things outside his locked drawer that had not been torn apart by the ransacking party.

"Lord Spite we have- what in the world?" A voice came in from the doorway.

"Odesse." Spite replied calmly. "My office was sacked while I went for a walk last night."

The lesser mage seemed stunned, though his eyes were steely.

"And before you ask, no, nothing of importance was stolen. I keep little of value in this office."

Odesse seemed to pause. "I would like to state that I had nothing to do with it."

"That is good to hear. However, it does not answer the question of who did it."

"Do you have any ideas?" Odesse asked.

"Odesse, my list of enemies is much longer than yours, and any of them could be behind this move."

Odesse frowned. "I was summoned here five years ago out of the blue, so pardon me if I'm oblivious to the politics of Shambhala."

"Why do you believe you were summoned?" Spite asked as he leaned back into his chair.

"I was of the belief that an opening appeared and Shambhala had no means to fill it."

Spite nodded. "Shortly before I was elevated to Overlord, my replacement for the ruling council was found in an incinerator. As for his replacement, they had mostly been sent into the field."

"Oh. And I was summoned to replace them then?"

"Correct." Spite replied.

Odesse glanced around the room as they fell into silence.

"I believe that Solon's faction was behind this little attack." Spite said when Odesse turned back to the desk.

"He's been dead five years."

"But his followers less so."

Odesse fell silent. "But why your office? Why now?"

"I don't know, and I simply do not care. They took nothing of value from this room."

Odesse nodded as a shout from the main base echoed throughout the base.

"What seems to be the issue?" Spite asked as both men turned to move to inspect the commotion.

"Boss!" A shout from the catwalk came. "There's been a murder!"

Spite exchanged a look with Odesse as the two rushed out to look for themselves.


Mortis had slept fitfully over the course of the night. A slight breeze along with the gaping hole in the side of the carriage meant that the death trap on wheels was not only cold and drafty, but also very loud.

When the sky began to lighten up, Mortis rose from her resting spot, wincing at the pain in her neck and back as she tested her limbs.

Despite the uncomfortable state of her so called resting position, Mortis rose to her feet and hopped out of the carriage.

The sky was still dark, though she could make out Yurius and the bandit girl across the poorly maintained road, their bodies hard at work digging what she presumed was a grave.

Mortis watched the pair silently with her arms crossed against her chest, still sitting within the ruined carriage.

It was only when the two figures got around to actually burying the dead did they notice Mortis watching them.

Yurius glanced at Mortis with a look that demanded she assist him.

Mortis replied by staring back at the scene with a quiet boredom, mentally noting the fact that the bandit girl gave her occasional glances, as if she was worried Mortis would make good on her threats.

Finally, Yurius stood up and jogged over to Mortis, his face hard.

"If you are already awake, you should at least offer to help us."

"Why should I? You never consulted me on if I wanted to dig a grave."

"I'm asking now."

"My answer is no. These filthy maggots don't deserve a grave."

Yurius grimaced as he turned around to the bandit. "We should."

"Says who? These corpses do us a greater service by being left out to rot."

"Mortis, I made the choice to help that girl bury her brother. I expect you to help."

"No."

"Is there is a reason why? Are you afraid of death or a little hard work?"

"Because these dogs don't deserve an honourable burial. That and we have a place to be."

"If you help us bury them, we could be on the road faster."

Mortis let out an angry hiss and rose to her feet. "Alright then Yurius. I'll help… dispose of these worms."

Yurius frowned. "Look, Mortis, why are you so rude when it comes to me?"

The woman shrugged as she stalked over to the bandit girl and the dead bodies.

Yurius saw the magic circle a moment too late.

"Mortis! Stop!"

Three flashes of lightning struck down, crashing into the lifeless corpses, the unbearable stench of both burning and decaying flesh filling the air.

"Mortis! That's enough! I didn't ask you to help like that!"

Mortis turned on Yurius, her voice frigid. "Shambhala is starving and you have the gall to hold up our mission over unburied corpses. If Spite was here, he would have you executed on the spot. Hell, he'd kill you personally."

Yurius glared back at Mortis. "Fine then. Do something productive with your time. We'll move out once the corpses are buried.

Mortis sneered and kicked one of the dead bodies that hadn't been zapped. "Fine then. Get to work."


She was in the dungeons again.

Somewhere deep inside, Edelgard knew she was dreaming, her will steeled as she prepared for the masked men who came in through the door.

A distant scream, one of her brothers, echoed through the wall.

Edelgard gritted her teeth and rose to her feet.

The door creaked open.

It wasn't one of the masked men, or Solon, or even the dead faces of her siblings.

It was Byleth.

Her knees cracked as she looked at the man she loved, the man who would have followed her to the ends of the world.

"Why did you kill him?" Byleth asked, his voice filled with pain and rage.

Edelgard opened her mouth to protest, but any words in her throat died. What could she say?

"You live a lie." Her own voice echoed.

Edelgard turned around, no longer within the dungeons of the imperial palace, but standing alone against the night sky.

"You lied to him, you killed his father. You live every day with him not realizing all this."

Edelgard watched as her past self, the towering Flame Emperor, watch her with the mask that Thale had fashioned, the eyes of her past self blank and empty.

"You brought Kronya into the academy." The Flame Emperor accused as an axe was raised at her.

"You stood by when she plunged that blade into Jeralt's back."

"There was nothing I could do!" Edelgard shouted.

The Flame Emperor laughed, a cold, empty sound. "You lie to him and to yourself. How terrible. And yet, he still chose you."

The ring on her hand seemed to become heavy as she glared at her false memory. "I love him."

"What tragedy! A man who loves his father's murderer!" The false Edelgard sneered as the mask shattered.

"You killed me!" Jeralt Eisner shouted as he advanced forward.

"I did not kill you!" Edelgard screamed back.

"El!" Byleth shouted.

Edelgard woke with a start, Byleth's face filling her vision.

"El." Byleth repeated, his eyes sunken as he brought Edelgard close.

"I." Edelgard started before Byleth silenced her with a hug.

"Not now. Breathe El."

"I."

"No El, you're safe here, nobody. Not Thale, not Adrasteia, not any of the others. None of them will hurt you. Not one."

Edelgard replied by bringing her arms around Byleth, burying her head into his chest, the steady beat of his heart easing the nightmare.

But the mask of the Flame Emperor still sneered at her in her mind.

"I'm sorry, Byleth. There's a great deal that I haven't told you."

Edelgard felt Byleth tighten his grip.

"I'm sorry." Edelgard whispered.

"El." Byleth whispered, his voice tickling her ear. "There's nothing to apologize for."

"But I-."

"Some things were meant to be, El. Hubert spoke to me after you went to sleep."

Edelgard felt a spike of something she couldn't identify inside. "I wanted to tell you."

Byleth pulled back slightly, his features visible again in the morning light. "I need you to remember again."

Edelgard felt her eyes widen. "Pardon?"

"Hubert has arranged another meeting with Hawthorne. At my request."

"What? Why?"

"Because he potentially has information that we would need."

Edelgard looked at Byleth before she nodded. "Alright then. When?"

"He'll find us when he's ready."

Edelgard nodded as she gently pushed Byleth back. "Pardon me while I dress."

Byleth nodded. "It's quite warm today, wear something cool."

Edelgard nodded. "Thank you dear."

Byleth stole a tiny kiss before he stepped out.


"One minute." Ingrid muttered as someone came over her covers.

A distant voice said something, but her vision flashed as bright sunlight blasted into her eyelids.

Ingrid frowned as she sat up, rubbing her eyes as her bunkmates gasped and looked away.

"Is there something wrong?" Ingrid asked as she rubbed her eyes.

"Your friend just stepped out. He's so handsome!"

Ingrid blinked. "Who? Sylvain? Ferdinand? Caspar?"

Her two roommates stared at her strangely. "It's General Ubert." One of the women said.

"Oh. Ashe." Ingrid said as she turned away from the two women.

"He brought food." One of the women blurted out.

Ingrid blinked. "What time is it?"

"The sun has been up for three hours now."

"What?" Ingrid shouted, shooting out of bed. "Oh no. We need to move out."

Both of her roommates stared as Ingrid changed frantically, her uniform crumpled over the previous night's sleep.

"Uhh. General Galatea?"

Tossing her blouse to the side, Ingrid hastily buttoned up a fresh one. "Yes?"

"Are you, erm, with General Ubert?"

Ingrid shook her head. "Yes, I am working with General Unbert to scout a part of the city."

"Oh. I see." The woman said, her face lined with disappointment.

Ingrid blinked as she slipped on her boots. "What did you mean by food?"

"He arrived here with three croissants."

"He looked so romantic. He just had this beautiful smile." The other woman sighed. "Why can't there just be a nice, handsome man who is willing to be there for you?"

Ingrid winced. "I don't know. Sorry, I must go."

"Alright then." One of the women giggled as Ingrid tossed her cloak over her shoulder.

Ashe smiled cheerfully as he raised a small sack of croissants. "Good morning Ingrid."

"Not a good morning. We've lost three hours of daylight."

The smile slipped off of Ashe's face as he nodded. "We should go."

Ingrid nodded as she turned to the camp stables. "I'll fly over. Shall we meet by the city square?"

Ashe nodded in turn. "Of course. I'll meet you there."

Ingrid nodded as she turned and ran.

Ashe glanced at the croissants in his hands before he turned to the city, his stride quick as he moved away from the tent.


"Lindy?" Lysithea called from outside his room, an ever present slice of cake in her hands.

"Do you think he went out somewhere?" Annette asked as she glanced at the door.

"This is Linhardt we are talking about." Lysithea scoffed.

"What seems to be the problem?" A voice at the end of the hall asked.

"Back to your room!" Lysithea exclaimed. "Manuela said clearly that you weren't supposed to leave until she got back!"

"Alright alright." The woman muttered as she turned away. "I'll head back."

"I'll walk you back!" Annette chirped as she turned away from Lysithea.

Lysithea sighed as she glanced down at the cake. "Oh what shall I do with you?"

The door beside her opened as Linhardt popped out. "Oh, good morning Lysithea."

"Lindy!" Lysithea replied happily. "I brought you cake!"

Linhardt turned around and grimaced. "Let's eat it in the dining hall."

Lysithea frowned before she made a deft turn, cleanly dodging past Linhardt and into the room.

"Didn't Mercedes clean your room yesterday?" Lysithea asked in slight awe.

"Yes, I lost multiple page numbers as a result of it. Is there a problem?"

"Your room is so messy I can't even put down this plate of cake!"

"Correct, which is why I suggested we eat the cake in the dining hall."

Lysithea pouted as she looked about the books in the room. "What is it that you are looking for?"

"This and that. One of the books I was reading talked about the health effects of various caviar found in Fodlan."

"Oh." Lysithea said as she looked at the books around her.

"For the most part, I'm rereading a number of these books. I figure I might have missed something before."

"Is there anything you missed?" Lysithea asked.

"No."

"Oh. That's disappointing." Lysithea said softly.

Linhardt nodded as Lysithea sat down on the bed. "If you want, you can eat the cake."

Lysithea shook her head. "Only after you eat a bite."

Linhardt sighed as he turned his head.

Lysithea smiled as she cut into the cake, drawing out a large bite with a fork. "Open wide Linhardt."

Linhardt compiled to Lysithea without complaint. "Oh. This is the cake you made for Felix isn't it?"

Lysithea raised an eyebrow. "How did you know?"

"Felix once threw it at me. Said you made it. I thought at the time that I had upset you badly enough for you to want to waste cake attacking me."

Lysithea looked horrified. "Felix threw a cake at you? My poor cake."

"It gave me the idea of the two pastries actually." Linhardt offered Lysithea as she took an even larger bite of cake.

Lysithea muttered something with her mouth full as she cut away a forkful of cake, the four points aimed at Linhardt.

"Did you give Felix the cake to throw at me?" Linhardt asked after finishing his second bite of cake.

"Yes." Lysithea said with a pout. "But I never thought he would actually throw it at someone!"

"I don't understand." Linhardt muttered with a yawn.

"It was a bribe. I bribed Felix with cake." Lysithea said.

Linhardt looked confused.

"Felix caught me stuffing my face with cake."

"As you do."

Lysithea turned the fork that was once aimed at Linhardt around, the cake disappearing into her mouth.

"So you bribed him with cake to do what? Throw more cake at me?"

Lysithea shook her head. "I told him he could do whatever he wanted with the cake so long as he didn't tell anyone that I stuffed my face with cake."

"Then how did he end up hitting me with cake when trying to hit Caspar?"

"I gave him suggestions of what he could do with the cake. I may have suggested throwing it at an unsuspecting victim."

"Yes, me."

"I'm sorry!"

"Felix said he was aiming for Caspar."

"What did Caspar do to annoy him?"

"I don't know. I was asleep through the entire thing. I woke up later with cake in my hair. Caspar simply told me what had happened."

Lysithea pouted as she inched the last forkful of cake at Linhardt. "Forgive me?"

Linhardt smiled as he let Lysithea funnel the slice of cake into his waiting lips.


After she woke up, Dorothea found herself drawn back to the square where she had met Ferdinand so many years prior.

"How much I wouldn't mind a drone to keep the other bugs away." Dorothea muttered to herself quietly.

"What other bugs?" A woman asked from behind her.

Dorothea turned back to find the red haired woman from two nights prior standing behind her, a large umbrella shielding her head as she walked forward.

"Oh, hello again." Dorothea said as she glanced about the relatively deserted street. "Out for a walk?"

"Mostly. I have the day off." The red haired woman said. "I'm headed to the market for something sweet."

"May I join you? I haven't truly felt safe since the last encounter."

The red haired woman nodded as she raised her umbrella.

"That reminds me, I never caught your name." Dorothea said as she walked with the woman."

"Monica. My name is Monica."

"Nice to meet you Monica, I'm-"

"Yes, General Dorothea Arnault. I'm aware."

Dorothea shook her head. "Dorothea is fine. I have little interest in the fame I have gathered over the last few years."

"I know what you mean." The other woman said as they entered the loud market. "Some days, I wonder what my life would have been like if I wasn't born where I was."

"Where were you born anyways?"

"South-west coast of the empire. A long ways away from pretty much anything."

Dorothea frowned. "I see. I was born in Enbarr. I grew up on the streets."

Monica didn't say anything, but she nodded in turn. "I'm curious about what life might have been for you. Even in my darkest moments I always had someone looking out for me."

"What do you mean?" Dorothea asked as they entered the market, leaning closer to hear the other woman's response.

"Someone has always wanted something from me. My name, my title, my identity."

"I can't say the same. I'm afraid of not being wanted."

Monica nodded as she turned to a nearby stall, her face unreadable. "Are there times where you would rather not be wanted?"

Dorothea snorted. "Roderigo Midas."

"That pest came after you too?" Monica asked, suddenly turning around, her face filled with disgust.

"Both me as well as another member of the Strike Force."

"He sent a small army to intercept me."

"How did you get away? Me and Ingrid had practically our entire class at our backs when he sent men after her, but I-"

"Outside intervention. Another group ran them off. Made sure I could get to Enbarr safely."

"Who was it? Mr. Hawthorne's men?"

Monica shook her head. "Mr. Hawthorne knew my father as a young man, but he had no direct involvement with the group that stopped Roderigo."

Dorothea frowned. "Then who was it?"

Monica shook her head. "I'd rather not say, if that's alright with you."

Dorothea frowned. "Bandits? The Church? A unit of Imperial Guards? Jeralt Eisner?"

Monica shook her head as she turned away. "Unfortunately, none of the four."

"A brazen beast?"

Monica laughed at that. "No, I'm afraid I wouldn't meet Hubert von Vestra until later."

"You met Hubert before?"

"Only briefly, and I'll be happy if I never have to see him again."

"He invokes that kind of reaction in people, I know."

"Especially if he's standing right behind you." Hubert said calmly from behind her.

"Hubie, what are you doing here?" Dorothea asked as she turned around, though she beamed at the sight of Bernadetta von Varley alongside Hubert von Vestra.

"Miss von Ochs, I would appreciate it if Mr Hawthorne could meet with the Professor and the Emperor today."

Monica frowned. "I don't believe that he's busy today. If I remember correctly, he should be in the Hawthorne Lodge."

"As this matter also includes you, I would like it if you also attended. It would save me the effort of hunting you down."

"Eh? Me? What does this have to do with me?"

"Because out of all of us, you had the most interaction with Shambhala."

"Oh." Monica whispered, turning a ghostly pale. "I see. I'll go with you then."

Hubert shook his head. "I'm afraid not. I still have some other business to attend to. Be present at the lodge at sunset."

The girl nodded as she curtsied, silent as the Minister of the Imperial Household walk away.

"What did Shambhala have to do with anything?" Dorothea asked when Hubert was out of earshot.

Monica grimaced as she turned away from Dorothea. "I'm afraid it's a long story, though I suspect that the emperor and her consort are both going to be disappointed with the answers I can present them."

"I'll respect that, but I want to be there at this meeting with Hubie, the professor, and Edie."

Monica nodded quietly as she turned back. "We should go. I have to inform Mr. Hawthorne of this."

Dorothea nodded as she followed Monica away from the market.


"Hello Paul." The man said as he made his way through the well cultivated garden.

"Hanneman." The older man replied as he turned away from the flowers he had been cultivating. "Miss Casagranda."

Hanneman nodded as he regarded the aged face of the crime lord. "It's been how many years?"

"If you still wish to call me friend, then the answer is too many. If not, then the answer is twenty one years."

"I appreciate what you did for me." Hanneman said quietly. "Though today is the first time I could express that in person."

Hawthorne nodded. "Is Miss Casagranda your wife?"

Manuela looked mildly offended. "No, I'm here on official business for the empire."

Hawthorne nodded. "So be it. What is it that you require from me?"

Hanneman shared a glance with Manuela. "We are looking for any books in your archive on blood reconstruction."

Hawthorne let out a slow sigh. "I see. Theory or practical purpose?"

Hanneman fell silent.

Hawthorne sighed. "I'll take that as the latter option. But may I ask why?"

"We are looking to potentially reversing the effects of blood reconstruction."

Hawthorne snorted. "Would you like a look at the books I possess about necromancy then? I'm sure you are aware that the most common result of blood reconstruction is a very painful death."

Hanneman shared a glance with Manuela. "No, we are not looking for anything about bringing the dead back to life."

"Why are you curious about this subject?" Hawthorne asked quietly after a moment of silence.

"Because there's someone out there who needs our help." Hanneman replied.

The two men exchanged hard looks before Hawthorne turned away, carefully pruning a small flower from a nearby plant.

"Would this have something to do with a Lysithea von Ordelia?" Hawthorne asked as he surveyed his handiwork.

Hanneman staggered back a step while Manuela gasped loudly.

"I see I am correct." Hawthorne replied quietly. "I was hoping this was all a poorly timed joke, but unfortunately not."

"Do you know anything about reversing the process?" Manuela asked.

"No. I don't." Hawthorne replied.

"Please. Someone's life is in the balance."

"I'm well aware of that fact, but I can't help you. I'm sorry."

"Then how did you know about Lysithea then?" Manuela shot back.

"Because I am aware of what has been done to her. That, as well as the fact that she may only have a few more years to live."

Hanneman glared at the older man. "I don't believe you understand what she's been through."

"What would I gain from lying to you about her?"

Hanneman and Manuela looked at each other, the two unspeaking as they came up blank.

"Paul." A voice echoed through the garden.

Hanneman and Manuela turned at the sight of the young woman arriving in the garden.

"The emperor requests a meeting at sunset." The young woman said as she stopped just before she noticed the other two people in the garden.

"Thank you for notifying me Monica." Hawthorne replied.

"Professor?" A voice from behind the woman called out.

Hanneman and Manuela turned and blinked at the sight of Dorothea.

"I thought it was you." Dorothea said softly. "What are you doing here in Enbarr?"

"We are here for work related to erm, Lysithea."

"There is no need for half truths, Hanneman. We are all here because of Shambhala, but we will talk later on that particular topic." Hawthorne said as he began to walk away. "At sunset, the emperor will arrive here, we will talk then."

"Of course." Hanneman said.

"Hanneman, Miss Casagranda, please use the facilities here. You must have travelled a great deal from wherever it was you were at."

"But we did not bring enough money-" Manuela protested feebly.

"It's on the house. Monica, please make the required preparations."

Monica nodded. "Yes, sir."

"I have much to ask you when the time comes." Hanneman said to Hawthorne as the man walked away.

"I look forward to it then."


Odesse was the first of the two men to reach the scene, the crowd hastily parting before him as Spite followed in his footsteps.

"Do we have an identification?" Odesse barked at one of the soldiers present.

"Fifteen year old Private Ryan."

"Damn. He was young." A soldier in the crowd muttered.

"Cause of death?" Spite asked as he stepped next to the Dark Mage.

"Can't tell. He's been killed at least three ways." The original soldier replied.

"Witnesses?"

"Main doors to the mess hall were locked. Someone put up cleaning signs so we couldn't get in."

"And how did you get in?" Spite asked, looking at the door. "Surely the doors would have been locked."

"The doors that lead to the catwalk system weren't locked. We got in through there."

"Naturally. I'm the only person in Shambhala with the keys to lock that set of doors." Spite replied.

The soldier glanced at the crowd before glancing at the overlord.

"Anyone check with the kitchen staff?" Spite asked.

"We did." Another soldier said. "They saw the cleaning signs around the main doors and figured that all soldiers would come down to the kitchens to get their food."

Spite looked at the butchered corpse. "So no witnesses."

The first soldier to speak looked at the body as well, though he turned and walked away hastily.

"Odesse, oversee a check of every soldier's room of potential weapons that could have been used to kill the private." Spite ordered.

"And what about you?"

"I'll be checking the various nooks and crannies within the base for potentially disposed weapons there."

Odesse nodded as he turned to the crowd. "Back to your quarters! Everyone not at their bunk when inspection comes will be presumed to have deserted!"

"Odesse." Spite added suddenly.

"Yes sir?"

"Make an exception for those soldiers who are in the outposts. We can search their quarters once their shifts are over. Send a runner to the defensive system."

"Oh. Right. What about the obelisk?"

"The last person to use the back door was myself. Nobody has gone past my office since."

Odesse nodded. "I'll get on to it."

"Odesse?"

"Yes sir?"

"Ensure emergency rations are distributed to the men. I don't want someone to miss something because they were hungry."

"Of course my lord."


Yurius wiped the sheen of sweat from his head as he finished burying the last bandit.

"Thank you for your help." The bandit girl said softly as she stood up from her position at the bottom of the shallow grave.

Yurius nodded as he climbed out of the ditch that had served as a makeshift grave for the bandits, reaching a hand back in to pull the bandit out.

They stood in the early sun for a while, Yurius turning his back to the bandit as he moved into the carriage.

"You mentioned you were hungry right?" Yurius asked when he turned around.

The girl nodded. "Yes, our harvests were barely enough to get by before the war, and then so much grain had to be taken for the militia when the war broke out."

"How long have you been a bandit?"

"I. Well, since the war began."

Yurius frowned. "You don't act like it."

"Sometimes we are needed in the village. Sometimes there's not enough food for everybody, so we have to make do with forest animals and gold from travellers."

Yurius frowned. "So what you are saying is that you are really just a poaching expedition?"

The girl frowned. "I don't want to put it like that."

"Your leader wasn't dressed for poaching." Mortis said from behind them.

"You and your ability to sneak up on people is disturbing." Yurius said as he turned around.

"Now that I think about it, none of you were well dressed for poaching. Your entire group were equipped with slow, melee weapons." Mortis observed as she stood over the bandit girl. "Hardly something meant for nimble little animals."

The girl flinched as Mortis tossed a large rabbit to the ground, the brown animal's face twisted in terror.

"Get your own knife." Mortis snapped as Yurius gave her a hopeful look.

"We would be done faster if you let me use your Athame."

"I'm not letting you touch my damn Athame." Mortis shot back as she turned away from the two. "Get your own model from Spite if you really want one."

The girl swallowed as she glanced at the rabbit on the ground, watching silently as Yurius began to skin the animal.

"I lied earlier." The bandit said after a moment of silence.

"About what?" Yurius asked.

"There's a count in this area that wants to make it seem like House Gloucester is incompetent. He wants the empire to make him the ruler of this region instead."

"What do you mean?" Yurius asked.

"A false flag attack." Mortis said. "Make it seem like there's a bandit problem here. Then use imperial troops to pacify the area, make himself look like the hero."

"How did you know that?" Yurius asked, glancing suspiciously at Mortis.

"The logical conclusion to such a plot. Steal credit for solving a problem that you yourself created. Discredit your enemy." Mortis shot back.

"So what do we do?" Yurius asked.

"Get someone to decapitate the head of the snake. Find this count that she mentioned and kill him." Mortis said as she leaned against a tree.

"You aren't going to help us?" The bandit girl asked.

"We have bigger issues we need to address elsewhere, so no."

Yurius frowned as he finished with the rabbit. "We can talk about this later, but now I think we should eat up and make our way to the next town."

"I agree." Mortis said as Yurius began a small fire.


The carriage back to Garreg Mach was lively as Maya gushed over the beautiful trees that lined the crisp road.

Ignatz Victor smiled as the sister of his best friend and sat back into his seat, content for a short while.

"How has my brother been?" Maya asked.

"He's bigger than ever." Ignatz replied as he joined Maya in looking at the tree line.

"Ignatz, what are we doing once we get to Garreg Mach?"

"There's a lot of work to do, so I hope you are willing to help."

Maya looked mildly offended. "Of course I'm willing to help! What kind of question is that?"

"A silly one on my part. Do pardon me."

Maya sighed as she leaned back into her seat. "Is there a reason we are out on the road so early?"

Ignatz nodded. "Yes. There's two towns relatively close to one another in this region. I was hoping that we could make it to the second town by the end of the day."

"Why are there two towns? It doesn't make sense. Wouldn't it have been better for them to build one big town?"

"One town was founded under imperial control, and another was under the rule of the alliance until recently."

"So there's a bridge we can cross?"

"Yes, they added a bridge for imperial soldiers to cross into former alliance territory quicker."

"Which town is closer to Garreg Mach?"

"Well, both towns share paths that go to Garreg Mach, but the town under imperial rule has two friends of ours that I want you to meet. It's also the slightly closer town of the two."

"Oh really?" Maya asked.

"Leonie and Lorenz. Also members of the Black Eagles Strike Force."

"Lorenz… Gloucester?" Maya asked.

"You know of him?" Ignatz asked as he looked up.

"But of course, he's quite famous. Being potentially the heir to the alliance and all."

"General Victor?" The driver asked.

"What seems to be the trouble?"

"There appears to have been a bandit attack up ahead."

"What?" Ignatz asked as he gripped his bow, suddenly wary of a potential ambush.

"I see two, no, three survivors."

Ignatz grimaced. "And their carriage?"

"Run off the road and no longer functional."

Ignatz glanced at the scene and grimaced. "Driver, assist the survivors. I will see to it that the area is secure."

Maya looked concerned as the carriage slowed to a crawl. "Alright then. I suppose it's our duty to help."


AN: Less editing was done for this chapter in comparison to the more recent ones, but still a few minor changes.