Chapter 19. The Damned Stand Ready


"Douglas! Ashe!" Felix shouted as he fought his way through the crowd. "What the hell is going on?"

"We'll explain later." Douglas said as he half marched, half dragged Ashe forward. "Right now we need to leave."

"What do they mean?" Felix asked as he pushed past a pair of children. "Just what happened with Catherine?"

Douglas tore past the guards at the command tent a mere moment before Felix did, the general waving off the two guards, panting as he pulled out a chair. "You have a lot of explaining to do."

"I know." Ashe said finally.

"I just didn't know it would come so soon." Douglas muttered. "We even burned the corpse. Who knew all those people were just standing there watching?"

"Ashe, what happened?" Felix asked.

"When I saw Catherine in the city, I lost it." Ashe said quietly. "When I came to, Catherine was dead."

"And what happened in between then?" Felix asked, his gaze finding Douglas.

Douglas grimaced at the question, but kept quiet.

"Tell him." Ashe replied. "He deserves to know."

"Ashe-" Douglas started, pausing to find the right word. "You killed Catherine."

"I can tell that from what he said." Felix snapped. "Just what exactly happened to make this such a big secret?"


Siege of Fhirdiad, some weeks prior.

"Thunderstrike Catherine spotted!" Percival shouted, the man perched behind a burning barricade.

"Retreating from our flanking maneuver then." Byleth observed. "She's probably injured."

Douglas turned to Ashe as he lowered his bow, his eyes hard as he watched the younger man.

"Damn." Nora muttered, her bow drawn. "Can we confirm that?"

"Positive." Percival replied. "She's got a cavalry unit with her though. Nasty bastards. It'll make a direct attack difficult."

Ashe closed his eyes as Byleth turned to him.

"Ashe?" Byleth asked as the silver haired man opened his eyes again.

"Professor?" Ashe asked, their eyes meeting.

"Those cavalry units won't be able to break through a building." Byleth replied grimly. "Not mounted anyhow."

"I-" Ashe started, stopping as Byleth raised a hand to stop him.

"You have my permission to take this battle." Byleth said firmly. "I have faith in you."

Ashe nodded as he turned back to his battalion. "I'll take my leave then."

"Return to us when it's over." Byleth reminded him. "But get this off your chest."

"Right." Ashe said. "I'll catch up when I'm done."


"I don't remember that." Ashe said with a shake of the head. "Does the professor know- about everything?"

Douglas shook his head. "Like I said, we burnt the corpse after we were done. It's still probably there, being gnawed at by carrion birds and rats."

Felix grimaced at the words. "Right. Let's move on, though you still haven't answered by question."


"Maurice."

"Pardon?" Marianne asked.

"That's the Crest of Maurice." Seteth explained, pausing to take a small sip of tea, his face grim.

"Who?" Annette asked.

"He was one of the eleven bandits of old who stole the power of the Goddess for himself." Seteth replied.

"One of the Elites?" Annette asked. "I've never heard of him before."

"One of eleven, yes." Seteth explained. "Twelve if you include Nemesis."

"I don't understand." Marianne explained weakly. "Twelve Elites?"

"Do you recall the scholar who accused you of being the beast ravaging the forests south of Garreg Mach?" Seteth asked.

Marianne flinched. "You remember that?"

"I do." Seteth replied. "I suspected even at the time that it was Maurice behind the attacks."

"I- what happened to Maurice?" Marianne asked. "Why is he a rampaging beast?"

"He lost control of his power over the course of the War of the Ancients." Seteth explained. "By the time I had arrived at the battlefield, he had devoured his entire force."

"Devoured?" Annette spluttered, her face turning pale.

"We found very little evidence that his fighting force had ever existed to begin with. A rendered limb within a river, a hand trampled into the mud. It was a grim scene."

"How did it happen?" Annette asked. "How did he become a monster if he he had a Crest?"

"We learned later on that another of the Elites had turned his forces against him. The bandits paid dearly for their treachery." Seteth said. "It's possible that he turned as a monster when he was weakened by battle, not unlike Miklan Gautier."

"So I'm not-" Marianne said, stopping mid sentence as Seteth raised a hand.

"Not the beast that scholar accused you of being." Seteth assured.

Marianne nodded quietly as she slowly leaned back into her chair. "So this Maurice is still out there then?"

"I believe that the beast south of Garreg Mach may be Maurice, but I do not know for sure." Seteth said. "I have never had the opportunity to find out for myself."

"What about the other Elites?" Annette asked.

Seteth shook his head. "The first time Rhea called me into service was during the reign of Emperor Otto the Younger, roughly year 141. By then, we had lost any contact with the Elites who did survive the war."

"Which Elites survived the war?" Linhardt asked.

"Only a handful outlived Nemesis." Seteth admitted after a minute. "And those were wiped out almost immediately by infighting. We found little trace of them except the broken bodies of their followers."

"I see." Linhardt said quietly.

"I left Rhea's service not long after Otto the Younger died." Seteth said after a long moment. "I couldn't bear the thought of leaving Flayn any longer, especially when our enemy was seemingly defeated."

Annette nodded quietly. "Did Rhea ever bother you with any requests?"

Seteth shook his head. "Not until I was summoned the second time in the year 1162."

"Why was that?" Linhardt asked.

"Your father actually." Seteth replied. "Rhea realized that Ionius was centralizing power. Still, I did not expect that they would launch a coup against Ionius."

"You weren't called for when the Southern Bishop attempted his coup?" Linhardt asked.

Seteth shook his head. "No. I was not informed until well into my second term of service. And by then it had been over a century since the coup had failed."

Linhardt nodded as he sank back into his seat.

"May I ask something of you?" Seteth asked, as if remembering something suddenly.

"What is it?" Linhardt asked in turn.

"Does the Church of Sacred Charity still stand?"

"Pardon?" Linhardt asked, his face confused.

"Never mind then." Seteth said, disappointment colouring his voice. "Forget that I ever asked."

"Did Maurice have a Relic?" Marianne asked quietly.

Seteth paused before he nodded. "I believe he did, yes. A sword, if memory serves."

Marianne nodded. "Do you believe it was his sword that corrupted him?"

Seteth paused as he drummed his fingers against the table, his face in deep thought. "I don't know. We did not make the Heroes Relics, but I do not see any other item that could have made him a monster."

"Who did?" Linhardt asked. "You said the Heroes of old were bandits, not craftsmen."

"Correct." Seteth replied. "In that case, I will admit that the Old Agarthan Empire possessed the means to make weapons."

"Agarthan? Like Agarthan apples?" Linhardt asked.

Seteth paused. "Yes, that particular Agarthan. They had a disturbing prowess when it came to adding magic into weapons."

"Like what kind of magic?" Annette asked.

"How many of you joined the Professor into his campaign into the forest?" Seteth asked.

"I was with Leonie." Marianne spoke up. "She was at the front line."

"I was supporting Linhardt." Annette offered, to which the green haired man nodded.

"Do you remember the weapons Kronya and Solon were wielding?" Seteth asked.

"Athame and the Staff of Circe." Linhardt recalled. "A dagger and a staff, if memory serves."

"Correct." Seteth replied. "Those weapons were of Agarthan manufacture."

Marianne grimaced as Linhardt and Annette shared a wary glance.

"I also believe that the Scythe of Sariel was of Agarthan manufacture, though I was never able to confirm it personally."

"The weapon of the Death Knight, correct?" Linhardt asked.

"Yes." Seteth replied.

"What about that spear Hubert took from the guys in the woods?" Annette piped up.

Seteth swallowed. "You… cooperated with the Agarthan forces?"

"We moved to save a force associated with Lord Arundel before the invasion of Arianrhod." Linhardt explained. "They had created a powerful spear."

Seteth nodded weakly as he turned back to his book. "If it's possible, I would like to discuss such things with Hubert and Edelgard, and confirm the identity of this... spear."

"You wish to help us?" Marianne asked.

Seteth paused before he shook his head. "I fear the descendents of Agartha. The destruction they wrought last time was catastrophic. I cannot imagine a world of peace if they are not defeated."

"For Flayn?" Marianne asked.

"For all of us." Seteth replied as the room fell into silence.


"Well." Spite said. "I suppose you aren't going to bring all of your friends with you then?"

The group seemed to flinch uncomfortably at the words, and one of the would be assassins took a small step back.

"We wish to surrender." One of the soldiers admitted. "We're in over our heads."

A noise of protest escaped the man who had been tied in the centre.

"Very well then." Spite said. "May I ask why you chose this course of action to begin with? Why you would follow this imbecile into rebellion?"

"We lost friends at Arianrhod." A voice, this one female offered.

"Yes, and I lost a sister." Spite shot back, his eyes turning to the woman who had spoken.

"We thought that you didn't care." One of the other men said finally, glancing around his peers for support. "You're very cold, very closed off."

"And what would Shambhala do if it's overlord were to fall into pieces in a time of crisis?" Spite asked the man. "How would anyone trust my judgement on the battlefield?"

"That's a good point." One of the other men muttered as the first man fell silent.

The sound of the door rattling caused Spite to turn to the figure of Odesse on the other side of the door.

"Can someone get the door for him?" Spite asked.

"Right." One of the would be assassins muttered as he jogged over to the door, unlocking the door for the other mage.

"Oh. Spite. Your Staff." Odesse offered.

Spite turned his head strangely before he took the weapon from the lesser mage. "I've told you before, the staff is a mere token of office. I have no use for it."

"It's glowing." Odesse muttered, pointing the head of the staff toward his superior.

"A light feature I built into the staff when I ascended to the position." Spite replied. "Nothing more than a minor trinket."

"So it's not just a token of office then?" Odesse asked.

"No. I built a switch into it to activate the light feature. A switch you must have accidentally triggered." Spite replied.

"Oh. I uhh, dropped it." Odesse offered.

Spite blinked at the man before he sighed. "Alright then, if that is all you wished to tell me, may I finish up here? I was a conversation before you arrived."

"Um." Odesse muttered. "Right, of course. I have nothing else to report."

"Regardless, thank you for the staff." Spite said as the lesser mage slipped out of the door, the assembled group watching the door carefully before Spite turned his attention away from the door.

"Odesse thinks I'm an idiot." Spite muttered in annoyance.

"Pardon sir?" One of the women stammered.

"The switch to turn the light of the staff on and off is within the staff itself." Spite explained as he moved to turn the light off. "If the light was turned on by Odesse accidentally dropping the staff, then the staff in question would have to be in at least two pieces right now."

"Oh." The woman said.

"Still, Odesse only found a harmless part of the staff." Spite said. "He might not be standing if he found one of the dangerous parts."

"Pardon?" One of the men asked.

"I keep a reserve spell complement sealed within another part of the staff. Emergency weapon in the event my magic is exhausted or I am caught off guard. Had Odesse accidentally activated that compartment, there's a good chance he might have blown himself to pieces."

The group before him flinched at the words.

"Regardless, let's return to the topic at hand." Spite continued. "I will require you to confirm your loyalty."

"Confirm our- loyalty?" One of the women asked, her eyes darting as she looked about her peers.

"Correct." Spite replied. "I want you to remember the full price of treason."

One of the men flinched, taking a step back. "Decimation?"

"Correct." Spite replied. "Though I'm sure you all have a mutual conspirator you want dead."

The group paused at the words before they turned to the condemned man still limping hanging next to them.

"Ah." One man said. "I see. I suppose you don't mind him dead."

"Can we stab him?" One of the other men asked. "Considering what the other guys have done to him, I don't want to touch him."

"Be my guest." Spite replied. "So long as one of your conspirator friends is dead."

"Hold on, isn't he protected by your order?" One of the women asked, the other members of the group pausing as the question went unanswered.

"Very good. You remember that particular order." Spite offered. "But it is within my right to reduce or cancel such a punishment when I see fit."

The group exchanged glances before one of the women slipped a knife from the folds of her uniform, the blade cutting deep into the condemned mage.

At the sudden, violent attack, a wet gurgle escaped the man as the other conspirators rushed forward, each waiting for their own turn.


Myson glanced away as the second prisoner was split open, the woman gasping feebly as her heart was torn from her chest.

"What were they condemned for?" Myson asked the other member of the Septet, desperate to make small talk.

"Lover's quarrel." Chilon explained, his face impassive. "She had one of the men murder a pregnant woman in cold blood."

Myson winced. "She was found out?"

"Not hard to figure out who did it." Chilon muttered. "Spite-erm, Periander at least had the brains to cover his murders up properly."

"She a mage?" Myson asked.

"Indeed. Periander probably learned his dirty tricks through the Shambhalan Legion School. Magi outside the Septet are generally not the brightest when it comes to accident planning."

"Is that why he was selected to replace Solon?" Myson asked as the ritual began again, the dying woman's heart absorbing magic as the two men talked.

"I wasn't even in contention at the time. I enjoy field work too much." Chilon replied. "But to answer your question, he was selected to replace Solon because he had knowledge on how to use the Minuteman system."

"He was the one to fire on Arianrhod?" Myson asked.

"He's good with the Minutemen." Chilon replied as the wind began to howl again, the warrior turning back to watch the dead woman's body crash lifelessly back to the ground.

"You think he can fix the radio?" Myson asked.

"Possible." Chilon replied. "Though I regret dropping it to begin with."

Myson patted the other man on the shoulder. "We were in a hurry. Accidents happen."

"Doesn't make me feel any better." Chilon replied. "I still broke the damn thing."

Myson winced as the ritual began to culminate again, taking a step back as the wind buffered him, his arms raised to protect his face as his hat flew from his head.

And then for the second time that day, a fallen Shambhalan returned to the world of the living.


"We should reach Fort Mercedes if we leave early tomorrow." Hubert said as Byleth joined him at the small campfire at the base of the ravine, the flickering flames of the fire gnawing at the few sticks that they had fed it.

"How early?" Byleth asked.

"At least by daybreak, I'm afraid." Hubert replied. "Still, Lady Bergliez should be able to help us in that regard."

Byleth nodded. "Will you sleep outside?"

Hubert chuckled. "I doubt I'll even be able to sleep tonight."

"Too much on your mind?" Byleth asked.

A flicker of emotion in Hubert's eyes confirmed the question, but the dark haired advisor shook his head regardless. "I've grown used to sleepless nights a long time ago."

Byleth nodded quietly as he glanced at the small stream cutting through their path. "Do you recognize this place?"

Hubert nodded. "A tutor of mine said that this was the lowest point within the ravine."

"What was the subject?" Byleth asked.

"Geography." Hubert explained. "His lesson was that the lowest place within a certain location was the best place for an ambush."

Byleth glanced around the dark walls of the ravine, but said nothing.

"Rest assured." Hubert said. "Morganite Ravine is an impossible place to set up an ambush. Such an attempt has not been made in centuries."

Byleth cocked his head cautiously.

"When the Adrestian Empire was still whole, there was an assassination attempt here, conducted by a renegade battalion of mountain troops."

Byleth frowned, his gaze watching the ravine carefully.

"Granted, that particular attempt was crushed." Hubert offered. "Still, the empire has not used mountain units since the War of the Eagle and Lion. Our last units went rogue alongside House Rowe during the debacle with Arianrhod."

Byleth nodded quietly. "So we should be safe then?"

"Very much so." Hubert said.

"Have you seen Edelgard?" Byleth asked.

Hubert paused before he rose to his feet. "Follow me."

Byleth nodded as he rose to his feet, his eyes still watching the area despite Hubert's words.

"Watch your step." Hubert warned as he stepped over the small stream. "It's thin and shallow, but there's still a chance you might slip and get yourself soaked."

Byleth nodded as he crossed the stream, his eyes scanning the grass alongside the roads, his eyes taking a moment to find Edelgard.

Hubert paused as he also found Edelgard.

"I'll leave the two of you alone then." Hubert said.

"Please do." Byleth said as he turned his attention to the sleeping form of Edelgard.

Hubert nodded as he turned away, his hands clasped as he left for the main camp site.


"Paul." The man said.

Hawthorne refused to reply, taking another bite of his dinner as he let out a slow exhale.

"Have you gone deaf?" The man asked with a leer on his face. "I asked for you."

"Still the same worthless worm I see." Hawthorne said with a scowl. "It is a great tragedy that Adrasteia did not take your head like he did with your peers."

The man growled. "You want to say that to Varley?"

"He's one step away from the noose anyways." Hawthorne shot back. "I don't think Arundel will step in and save him this time."

"Watch your tongue." The former bishop scoffed.

"Watch yours. I'm the only reason Varley ever wound up as Count to begin with."

The bishop narrowed his eyes. "I don't believe that."

"How convenient for him that his far more talented and superior brother was run down by a cart twice in the same decade."

The man seemed to pause at the words as Hawthorne turned back to his dinner.

"Now, get out of my dining room." Hawthorne said. "Or I won't even try to make your death an accident."

The man grimaced. "I'll be back."

"I doubt it." Hawthorne said as he watched the door to his dining room shut.

"Anything we should do about him?" A man asked as he stepped from the shadows of the dining hall, a crossbow in his hands.

"We will not kill him, if that's what you are asking." Hawthorne replied. "See to it that a coffin is acquired from the city morgue."

"Where shall the coffin go?" The man asked.

"There will be a ship to Brigid leaving in the next three days." Hawthorne replied. "See to it that the pathetic worm becomes fish food."

The man smirked. "As you wish, Lord Hawthorne."

"The Emperor has disbanded the nobility." Hawthorne replied. "The title of Lord no longer exists."

"And you never wanted the title, yes, I'm aware." The man said with a shrug.

"Good." Hawthorne said as the man turned to leave.

"Matchstick?" Hawthorne asked after a moment.

"Yes?" The assassin asked in turn, turning back to face his employer.

"Have the kitchens bring me a bottle of brandy. Something cheap but strong enough to wipe that bastard from my mind."

"Of course." Matchstick said as he slipped through the doors.


"Hey Ingrid, do you know who the crowds are shouting for?" Caspar asked at the dinner table.

Ingrid blinked as Ashe froze in his seat.

"Pardon?" Ingrid asked. "I have no idea. That nurse just allowed me to leave her tent a few minutes ago."

"Are you feeling better?" Ashe asked, his face conderned.

"I'm feeling better, yes." Ingrid replied. "But I'm afraid I won't be in a position to fly anymore."

Ashe grimaced. "Right. That's a problem."

"Where's the closest place we can find a replacement mount?" Caspar asked.

"Garreg Mach." Ingrid replied. "If not there, then Enbarr."

"Can we find any in Galatea territory?" Douglas asked from his position in the corner of the tent, his eyes watching the table.

Ingrid shook her head. "I'm afraid not. I'm not exactly on good terms with my father regardless."

Felix scoffed. "None of us are."

"I wonder how dad is doing." Caspar said quietly.

"Wasn't he seconded to Emile?" Sylvain asked.

"He was." Ashe confirmed. "After that I believe he was sent to Brigid to serve Petra."

The room fell into silence as the five generals awkwardly ate their dinner.

"Ashe, why are you so jumpy?" Sylvain asked.

"Silver Knight?" A voice outside the tent asked.

Six sets of eyes settled on the girl at the entrance to the tent, her face wide eyed as she entered the tent.

"Wrong tent kid." Douglas snapped, moving to intercept the child. "Move on."

"It's fine for her to be here." Ingrid shot back, glaring at the former bandit. "It's not any of us have the stomach to finish dinner."

"Hey!" Caspar yelled. "I can eat all your leftovers!"

"All of us except Caspar." Felix muttered. "And I blame Raphael for that."

Douglas grimaced as he stepped back, having been overruled.

"Anyhow." Ingrid said as the girl settled next to their table. "Who was this silver knight you mentioned?"

"Him!" The girl pointed over the table.

"Douglas, I didn't know you were ever a knight." Sylvain commented.

Ingrid sighed as she lifted the girl up.

The girl blinked as she seemed to realize that she was pointing at the former bandit, turned her finger to Ashe instead.

"Is there something you're not telling us?" Sylvain asked.

"Ashe killed Catherine in single combat in Fhirdiad." Douglas explained. "You might imagine that the residents of the city didn't like her much."

Felix raised an eyebrow. "You mentioned that he killed her, but I didn't know it was single combat."

Ingrid pressed her lips together.

"You killed Catherine?" Sylvain asked, his face surprised.

"She killed Lonato." Caspar said. "I think he has the right to want revenge."

The room fell silent again.

"Right." Felix conceded, his face tight. "I'm going to step out."

"We're done too." Douglas said firmly. "Ashe, let's get going."

"What about the prisoner we took?" Sylvain asked.

Felix and Douglas both paused.

"Right. Her." Douglas admitted. "We need to have a long talk with her come tomorrow."

"Daybreak?" Felix asked.

"Too soon." Ingrid replied. "We should wait for the sun to be up first."

"Why is that?" Felix asked. "Sooner we can get the information, the sooner we can act on it."

"We should wait." Sylvain said at last. "We should all be fully awake when we conduct this talk of ours."

Ashe nodded weakly as he slipped away from the others. "I suppose we'll talk in the morning then."

"Get some sleep then." Ingrid said. "You'll need it."


"Soldiers of Shambhala." Spite said quietly as the assembled Machine Hall turned to look at the senior officer present. "One of these two condemned have, perhaps unfortunately, expired ahead of time."

The hall stood silently as Spite turned to the other body that had yet to die, their eyes not looking upon the disemboweled corpse next to Spite.

"I understand that we have undergone a period of great difficulty over the last few months." Spite said as he dropped the chin of the condemned man, turning to the mutilated corpse of the other man. "We have lost a significant number of our forces, and Thales has gone dark."

Spite paused as he turned to the crowd, his eyes watching the stony faces of his soldiers.

"But we will avenge our losses." Spite said. "For we stand here only because those we once fought with chose to give their lives in service to Shambhala. We stand here only because our ancestors were denied their birthright to walk in light."

The crowd stood quietly, unsure if any were permitted to speak as Spite stalked through their ranks.

"And it is honouring their sacrifice that I will not tolerate desertion." Spite continued as he stalked his way through the assembled ranks. "Had this traitor succeeded in his… cowardice, then the enemy would send their puppets to our home. To lay waste to the sacrifice of our brothers, fathers, sisters and mothers. To finish the slaughter the Nabateans failed to complete all those generations ago."

"And that is why I have contempt for that traitor." Spite finished as he turned back to the condemned man. "Which is why I will dirty my hands with his blood."

Then Spite began to walk back to the condemned man, his pace methodical as he stormed across the length of the Machine Hall.

"As Overlord of Shambhala." Spite snarled as he reached the traitor, his voice barely over a whisper. "I banish you from Shambhala. I condemn you to eternity amongst the traitors and the abominations. I condemn you to the world without light or hope."

Spite hissed as he coated his hand with dark might, the flames coating his hand as he tore through the man's chest, his hand tightened into a vice as he found the man's heart.

"Zaharas awaits." Spite spat in old Agarthan, his eyes meeting the pained eyes of the other man.

Around the floor of the Machine Hall, dark fire lashed out, the flames forcing the front line of assembled soldiers back.

"You." Spite hissed as the dark flames began to devour his still living victim. "Are. Nothing."

Even Odesse winced as the shadowed fire dissipated, the hunkered form of Spite standing over where the traitor had spent his final moments, the flames having consumed even the corpse of the dead man next to the traitor.

"You are all dismissed." Spite said as he turned to the crowd before him. "I will be in my office should anyone require me."

And then Spite stalked from the room, leaving the combined mass of Shambhala behind him.


"Sleeping?" Petra asked the other man as the carriage stopped at a small clearing along the road.

"She's asleep, yes." Gregory Dominic confirmed as he stepped from the carriage. "Come, let's step out so we can talk."

"We can talking here." Petra replied.

"We can." Gregory replied. "But she will not be able to sleep."

"I understanding." Petra replied. "Are we closer to Garreg Mach?"

"We are." Gregory replied. "Two days of travel and we should get there."

Petra nodded before she turned to the sky, watching the moon carefully.

"Is the sky like this? In Brigid?" Gregory asked.

Petra shook her head. "Cooler."

Gregory nodded. "It's very warm this time of the year."

"I know." Petra said.

"Right." Gregory said. "You were here for five years."

"Annette?" Petra asked.

Gregory let out a slow sigh as he nodded. "Yes. If possible, I'd like to know about Annette."

"She misses her mother. You, her father."

Gregory shook his head, his face gaunt. "I see."

"She would cry at night. Call for Gustave."

Gregory swallowed at the information. "I understand."

"She longing for family."

"Homesickness." Gregory translated grimly.

"And you?" Petra asked. "How you think of her?"

The man looked away as he opened his mouth, shutting it a moment later.

"When she declared for the Empire, there was a great rage here." Gregory admitted. "A bishop burned Dominic Manor to the ground."

"Manor?"

"Our ancestral home when she wasn't in the Capital. Some wanted to kill her mother."

Petra looked stunned at the words, her eyes widening to reveal great surprise.

"I stopped them from harming Madeline, but they never forgave what Annette did."

"What happening to them?" Petra asked.

"They fell in battle." Gregory replied. "The local bishop was a fool who had never fought on the battlefield. It was a slaughter."

"Who?"

"Your Death Knight." Gregory replied. "I'm told that he carved his way through the army practically single handedly. When he took the bishop's head, the battle became a rout."

Petra frowned. "Is land safe for Annette?"

"If possible, I hope Annette will never step foot on that part of Fodlan again." Gregory replied. "That she would forget all about this part of the world."

"Do you believe-"

"No." Gregory replied. "She would never forget Gregory Manor. And all I can do now is wait for when she returns."


"We're here." Ignatz said as he opened the door to the other carriage, smiling at the two mercenaries sitting within.

"Is that so?" Yurius asked quietly, putting a finger to his lips to silence the artist.

"She's asleep?" Ignatz whispered as he glanced at Mortis.

"Fell asleep halfway through." Yurius confirmed.

"Is she alright?" Ignatz asked.

Yurius waved off the shorter man as he gently shut the door behind him. "She's fine. She just had a bad night. Related to Leonie no doubt."

Ignatz laughed weakly at that as he let Yurius step out of the carriage, gently shutting the door behind him. "Regardless of that, welcome to the Great Bridge of Myrddin."

Yurius nodded as he glanced around the town, frowning at a small monument at the centre of a nearby street.

"Is that supposed to be there?" Yurius asked. "That statue is blocking the road and all."

Ignatz winced as he passed the makeshift monument. "It shouldn't be up, but I understand why it is."

"What is it? And why is it standing there of all places?"

"It's a tribute to an Alliance general." Ignatz explained weakly. "She fell in combat when we took the bridge from the Alliance."

Yurius nodded. "And that spot was where she fell then?"

Ignatz nodded. "That's right."

Yurius grimaced as he quietly eyed the various buildings of the town. "The town is different from when I was last here."

Ignatz raised an eyebrow to the comment. "When was that?"

"Six years ago." Yurius replied. "I was with Mortis and-"

"The rest of your unit?" Ignatz suggested helpfully.

Yurius was about to confirm with the other man before thinking better of it. "No, it was just me and Mortis. We were escorting someone to Enbarr."

"I see." Ignatz replied. "I trust the mission went well?"

Yurius shook his head at the memory, one of the last days he had seen Kronya alive. "Yes and no. There were some ups and downs to the mission, but that particular part of the mission went according to plan."

"That sounds like a very interesting topic." Lorenz said as he approached the two men. "Perhaps we can talk about it once we have some dinner, but first we should see to the local treasury to repay some of our debt to you and Mortis."

Ignatz nodded. "With the amount in the treasury, we should be able to pay back a significant portion of the money we owe."

"Money isn't too big of a concern." Yurius said with a wave of the hand. "I'm sure Mortis won't mind if we weren't repaid immediately."

Ignatz shook his head. "My parents were merchants. They taught me to pay a debt quickly."

"I agree." Lorenz. "We should absolutely pay back this debt as soon as possible. It is a noble thing to do. As the son of Duke Gloucester, I swear to repay the debt quickly."

Yurius snorted. "As the son of a pair of craftsmen, I'm more than understanding if a payment comes in a bit later. So long as we got what we wanted in the end, it's fine."

"That's interesting." Lorenz offered. "What did your parents make?"

"Not much." Yurius admitted. "They were pretty low in the pecking order in our unit. Even if they were unhappy, they had nobody to complain to."

"I know this might be odd to ask, but what about Mortis?" Ignatz asked. "What were her parents like?"

"I'm not sure. She was an orphan for as long as I could remember." Yurius admitted. "Not someone I had a lot of interaction with growing up."

Lorenz frowned at the words. "That must have been difficult. Not having parents growing up."

"We had someone raise us within the unit." Ignatz offered. "But yes, she was distant from a lot of us. The magic users in our group were generally separate from the rest of us."

"How did you get to know her then?" Ignatz asked as the group entered a nearby building, smiling and waving at the two guards present.

"I wasn't part of our mage corps." Yurius replied with a shrug. "It was a surprise for me. One day I was pulled aside and told I would be paired with her for a mission."

"Do you know why?" Lorenz asked.

Yurius paused. "Mortis had a mentor within the unit. I suspect he picked me personally."

"That's odd." Lorenz said as he gestured for the group to turn down a corridor. "What was this escort mission about? If you don't mind me asking, of course."

"Someone close to Mortis' mentor needed to do something in Enbarr." Yurius explained. "We were to watch over her as this went on."

"That's interesting." Lorenz said as he began to descend a set of stairs. "Was this when you met with Hubert?"

"Briefly." Yurius admitted. "Mortis met with him more than I did."

Lorenz nodded as he opened the door to a large room. "Here we are, the treasury."

"Is it usually unguarded like this?" Yurius asked as he looked around the room.

"That is odd indeed." Lorenz said as Ignatz entered the room. "There should be guards here."

Yurius felt his eyes narrow. "We should open the vault up, see if anything is amiss."

Lorenz nodded as he pulled a key from a pocket within his clothes, quicking turning on the lock.

As the door swung open, Ignatz gasped.

"The money in the vault! It's gone!"


Ashe slipped over the damaged barricade carefully as Douglas and Nora covered his rear.

"Percival?" Ashe called softly into the night.

"We should be there soon boss." The other soldier replied as he gently placed a salvaged beam away, clearing the way for their party to move into the city. "Doubt anyone's been to this part of the city recently."

Ashe grimaced. "It's different from the last time we were here."

"It is." Douglas said as he huddled next to Ashe. "It wasn't a ghost town the last time we were here."

"It was like hell itself." Nora muttered.

"Nora, are you familiar with the city?" Douglas asked.

"Little bit." Nora replied. "We should be in the merchant's quarter now."

"Are there any granaries here?" Ashe asked.

Nora nodded as she stood to survey the land. "Merchants would store their stocks here."

"We'll need to send in more men in the day then." Ashe said. "Maybe we could find that seed stock we were looking for."

"Only when we finish our work here." Douglas said grimly. "That comes first."

"Boss!" Percival called. "I see the church."

"Can you confirm that?" Douglas asked.

"Positive." Nora said. "That's the damn church alright. Some rich merchant built it when I was a kid."

"Then we are close." Douglas said. "Shall we get out our torches?"

"No." Ashe replied as he glanced behind Nora. "Not yet."

"Until we reach the barricade?" Percival asked.

"Sounds about right." Douglas muttered. "You ready for this Ashe? It ain't going to be pretty."

Nora winced. "How will we know it's her?"

"Armour plates." Percival explained.

"Ah." Nora said. "Shiny metal plates. I see."

"Shush." Percival said. "I see the barricade."

"Is it the one?" Douglas asked.

"I recognize the wood." Percival muttered. "Definitely where we dumped the body."

"Sounds like we found the right place." Douglas muttered. "Torches?"

"Here we are." Nora said as she slipped one to Douglas. "Everyone ready?"

"As much as I'll ever be." Percival muttered, the Duscarian looking slightly pale in the moonlight

"Be sick back in the camp." Douglas snapped. "We're here to find closure."

"Right." Percival muttered as he struck a spark, the flame hungrily snapping at the small baton of wood.

"Give us a light?" Nora asked.

"Gladly." Percival said.

"And what of us?" Caspar asked.

All four members of the warband spun around, their eyes focused on the face of Caspar standing behind them.

"You idiot." Felix hissed from behind Caspar. "Why did you do that?"

"Felix, I'm sure it's fine." Ingrid said gently from behind the two blue haired men. "After all, we would have made ourselves known sooner or later."

"Oi!" Sylvain snapped. "I wasn't that loud!"

Ashe paled and looked stunned. "What-"

"Look." Sylvain said. "We can tell that you weren't comfortable at dinner."

Ashe swallowed at the words as his knees gave out. "I-"

"Ashe." Ingrid said as she rushed forward, her hands cupping his face as she lowered herself to his position. "You can tell us the truth."


AN: Chapter complete.

A minor update will go to the first chapter explaining that it's a non-plot, crack humour chapter (written before I actually intended for this project to be a serious story), and those looking for plot should skip to the second chapter.

Still looking for that beta. Inbox and Discord always open.

For anyone interested in the Ashen Wolves, I'll integrate them into the story later on. Until I can get a full grasp on their character and motivations, I'm not going to put them into my story (expect them to appear first in chapters 21-22).

Next time.

Flashbacks are fun.

The beginnings of a paralogue.

Of monsters and men.

To walk amongst the enemy.

A guided tour of darkness.

Review.