This is a bit of a longer chapter than usual. I promise Dimitri will appear next chapter, maybe. For now, enjoy it! As for a fair warning, there will be character death and some angst in this chapter.
The sea of Adrestian red was like a tidal wave of blood on the eventual battlefield. Their sheer numbers were not nearly as drastic as Byleth predicted, but her strategic importance likely was still underestimated. Cornelia probably saw her words as bluffs to convince the Kingdom. The lack of favorability by all factions had her portrayed as unreliable. Her most ardent supporter in the academy days, Edelgard, likely was also having her second thoughts. While not the best for her image, Byleth was thankful for the smaller invasion force.
Their aim was not Arianrhod itself, their numbers told that much. Ingrid and the fliers relayed that there were no emblems of the Black Eagle Strike Force. It was a greater relief to the green-haired woman than anyone for reasons none were truly privy to. It would do her no good for her informant to either be outed or killed in the crossfire. A silent prayer was given to the individual, likely a dissenter against a full-blown deployment to the border fortress.
Though, being spared from facing her students was not an absolute. There was reason to think that one or more could be amongst the ranks. Though, such thoughts could not be confirmed until the actual engagement.
In light of the attempt to free Byleth and the time it would take for reinforcements, there was talk of allowing the former prisoners a place in quelling the imperial advance. It was Rodrigue's endorsement that allowed both Byleth and Lysithea to participate. As per request, they were placed under watch and protection by Felix, serving as deputy commander of the guard in lieu of his father. Duke Fraldarius replaced Cornelia's position as a strategist.
Initially, she was not to be outfitted with her prized sword, but Felix smuggled the relic anyways. From what she surmised, the blunette was looking to see her prowess once again. His stare told her that much as her blade remained at her hip.
Their defenses would hold for the time being. Anticipation was not affecting Byleth, but waiting for the enemy to strike was never her forte. The marching of thousands of boots had her sending glances to both sides, wondering how the others were holding up. "Lysithea, you should be with the garrison." Her mint-eyes honed in on her shorter companion, not understanding her insistence in staying at her side.
"Well, professor, you never got the chance to make use of faith magic." The confidence in her words earned a curious look. The piercing pink gaze stared on at the gates, likely already a thought ready for the coming storm.
Byleth hummed over the thought, thinking that the white-haired woman may wish to serve as field medic over added artillery. Her sheer firepower was not something to be trifled with, "Are you sure? You can at least count on my crest to heal any scrapes." The Crest of Flames was fairly reliable and served a role akin to the Nosferatu spell, albeit a bit less reliable. Matched with her relic and major crest, the former professor often found herself assumed to be immortal in combat. Her time pulse only furthered this notion in her mind.
The white-haired woman smirked at the assumption, "I learned more than just Heal." The comment was what truly caught the older woman's interest. "Linhardt isn't the only one who knows Warp now." That single word brought on a flurry of thoughts, all of which culminated in a confident smirk.
The idea in her mind relied on one more component, "Felix, I will need you to protect her for me." While she may ruffle feathers with this idea, the payoff was likely to outweigh the future reprimanding. The woman readied her blade upon hearing the thundering of footsteps just outside of the fortifications.
Before she could get her answer, an unpleasant sound hit her. The heavy gates heeded the call of their controller and gave way for the enemy, much to the detriment of Arianrhod. There was little to put the puzzle together on who was to blame. Byleth had a hunch that Cornelia still had a mole in place, but her speculation could wait. Arrows whizzed into the opening raining down on their company. With little time to react, the barrage mowed down a fair number of soldiers present.
One stray arrowed found its mark in her companion. Lysithea crumbled under the injury and fell backward onto the blue-haired swordsman, who watched in horror at the scene. While the threat of enemies within was considered, they had somehow managed to infiltrate and tamper with the draw bridge's mechanism. As much as they were on high alert around spies, Cornelia's ilk was nearly able to smuggle her out.
Regardless, the dreaded scene of one of her comrades perishing before her eyes played out. That fact alone was enough to earn the intervention of her time pulse. The sound of glass shattering and reforming signaled a swift passage of time. It was just after she uttered her words to Felix, "Be ever vigilant with her." Her tone was far more stern than her previous comment. Just as she gave the faithful instructions, her sword came to life and flew toward the opening. Snaking through the growing gap between her enemies and large drawbridge as it descended. The Adrestian archers were unprepared for the relic's might.
Sublime Heaven carved through the ranks of the red-clad soldiers like they were training dummies. The might of her relic was alleged to wreak sheer havoc upon entire armies. Her mastery was nothing to be trifled with still. Her strike effectively saved the guard's front lines. The next rows of the Adrestians looked aghast at the sight. Felix, on the other hand, was doing his best to hold back his grin.
The swordsman nodded to the words, "I will keep her safe. Just keep your blade pointed away from us. Well, until we spar of course." There was optimism for both him and the other Kingdom forces to see the relic alight. The monstrous strength of the ancient weapons truly could go a long way in a skirmish, even if just to further morale. Nobody would want to be on the receiving end of the Sword of the Creator.
Her blade reformed to its base form. Her intense gaze fell on the next wave of red-clad soldiers. A battle cry was heard which caused them to stampede forward. However, their moment of hesitation prepared Arianrhod's defenders to counter. Funneled in by the walls and riddled by projectiles, the imperial advance was not nearly a threat to the front. Byleth's mint eyes transferred to the flanks of the fortress.
It was only through her quick-thinking and time pulse that their forces had a reprieve before the assault. For the western and eastern sides, they lacked the same foresight. That fact alone was enough to get the woman acting quick, "Warp you said... Would you mind demonstrating?" The mint-eyes honed in on the east. Remembering Ingrid and Gwendal being present on the western side, the weakness of that eastern side was glaring.
The question was ignored in favor of sending out a Dark Spikes spell, crippling the inbound cavalry charge. It was a bit worrying to leave behind her comrade, but she and Felix were beyond capable in combat. The duo could keep the front reinforced effectively. The white-haired woman soon returned her attention to the other, "What do you have in mind?" Her serious tone proved she was on alert now.
Byleth smiled as a plan formulated in her mind. She was the target of the invasion, likely already noticed by the enemy. For her to be warped elsewhere, the composition of the Adrestian forces could be shaken. The battle was not a matter of routing the enemy, but rather to keep them from breaking through and overwhelming. The imperial army had enough troops to take the fort, now considering that they had spies on the inside. Yet, the numbers did not seem ideal for holding the strategic gain. She was still the target, so she could scatter the army just by disappearing.
So, it came down to holding the fort and confusing the Adrestians, "I want you to send me as far as you can toward the eastern wall. From there, I plan to push back their forces. Keep this entry point locked down. If you are overrun, send a flare." Emotion drained from her voice as she donned a commanding persona. It was both a blessing and a curse that her Ashen Demon identity only re-emerged in combat. She much preferred these feelings she developed, but it was a boon in quelling her enemies.
The plan made sense, albeit it was against orders to hold positions and stay beside Felix. Thankfully, the white-haired woman was not under the Kingdom's payroll. She provided a curt nod, "I will trust you to come back safe."
"I have no intention of dying here." After all she had done to sway the Kingdom's officers, her last thought was to perish here. The small show of confidence in her voice spoke volumes of her certainty. There was no room or time to argue. A magical circle manifested underneath the older woman.
It was not her first time being warped. Linhardt, in fact, practiced the spell on her. There was no doubt of the spell's utility, but it was not too pleasant to have your very essence broken down and reformed in a new spot. She shuddered upon her arrival. Though, her disgust was short-lived. Her green-eyes caught sight of the imperial army all but through the entrance. Her head shook with great fervor, not about to let the Adrestians have their chance to strike their forces from the back. Her sword charged for another Sublime Heaven. It fully extended and glowed its same ruby red. The invaders only had the time to gawk as the serpent of a sword painted the ground red.
The combat art wore on her weapon, but its natural regeneration meant she could make use of her trump card four more times. At first, such a wild attack took a toll on her body. Ruptured Heaven, the combat art's previous iteration, took practice for her to truly master. Upon merging with Sothis, she could use the full potential of her legendary blade.
Disgruntled, the soldiers were not yet routed. She was only able to send them into a tizzy, hardly enough to halt the charge entirely. One paladin was quick to rush her, likely aiming with the intent to kill. Like an extension of her arm, the sword seamlessly cut him down and sent him off his horse. It startled the woman somewhat just how easy it was to cut down her foes. Her bloodlust could only be stayed by familiar faces. Those that reminded her that she was not a demon.
Though, she preferred her grotesque nature to have to duel an old friend. A sentiment that was not easy to uphold. Her crimson path was disturbed by a familiar voice. It did not stop her from besting another rider. A war master was what kept her momentarily busy to lend an ear to her surroundings. Sparks flew with each parry, but the intensity of the scuffle did not diminish her senses. Her eyes soon caught onto the owner of the voice.
She spotted the Empire's left flank commander. Her adversary was not what one could best in her duel, but the other was both skilled in her abilities and reliable support. Byleth was to cross blades with the renowned professor and physician, Manuela Casagranda. While the war master was able to leave a searing bruise to her side, he was not long for the world. With a flash of light from her sword, he and remnants of the commander's entourage were food for the worms. She was still vastly outnumbered, but she was one leap away from cleaving her old colleague.
The brunette caught the other's gaze as the Sword of Creator returned to its static state. Their shared eye contact ended with a chuckle from the assassin, "So, the rumors were true. I did not wish to think so, but you truly defected. You would really turn your blade on your own students." The accusation hurt, but it hurt less than what was to come next. Her demonic nature was useless when against someone she knew and even respected. Her "heart" softened as she heard the other's accusation. Her decision ultimately may lead her to kill someone she once taught
Yet, her motives were firm. There was no way to sway her from her recourse, "Am I any different than you? You should know that your class has been almost decimated." There was no malice in her words. There was no need for the other to answer either. All Byleth thought to do was show her resolve.
Her comment did earn a sorrowful expression from the enemy commander. Her forces were currently being matched by the Kingdom's counter. It was not a pure duel, but the two at least had a little time to talk. "I have taught more than just the Golden Deer. The year before I was a professor for the Black Eagles. Though, we both made regrettable decisions after Derdriu. Mine being one too many drinks, and you... turning your back on everyone." The woman's blade point was perpendicular to Byleth's neck.
The harsh words were not undeserving. The act of defying the Church then defying Edelgard was enough reason to think her a snake, "I have no regrets. One must put an end to this senseless bloodshed. It is my atonement for the lives I have taken. Claude, Hilda, Leonie, and Ignatz... they all deserved better than their fate." The mentions looked to bother their mentor. The scowl on Manuela's face became more visible with each painful reminder.
"And, you would wish to do the same then, turn your blade on your students." Manuela's Wo Dao flew towards Byleth, only to be parried by the relic. Between the two of them, the older woman was more experienced with faith magic, but the younger woman had the edge in swordsmanship.
"I only mentioned them to remind you that you can find atonement too." The idea of killing her colleague did not sit well. Memories flooded Byleth's head of better times. An especially fond memory was when the brunette shouldered her work after her father's death. The gesture was unremarkable, but it meant the world to Byleth. "You can lay down your weapon and join me. Lysithea is with me. She's doing well."
The mention of the prodigy earned a reaction from Manuela, warmth invading the otherwise bleak scenario. "She may be all that I have left of my class, but I have suffered enough losses to know where I stand." The Wo Dao was not sheathed or lowered. It clashed against the Sword of the Creator once again. The mint-haired woman retreated somewhat, enough to create distance with the other woman and effectively defeat another incoming war master. Before another could take his place, their commander raised her hand for them to pause. Afterward, she once again aimed her tip toward the exposed skin.
The answer was a resounding no. It pained Byleth to know that there was no other option, but she did not feel weak. Her limbs were heavy, but then they were lighter. She felt the apparition's presence once more. Her arms went from lead to feathers in the matter of an instant. Her sword was parried, but her successive counter-parry pushed the Wo Dao out the way. Her strike came down like a guillotine.
A billowing scream left Manuela's lips as she collapsed backward. A pool of her blood surrounded her weak frame. Life was slowly escaping her, "Goddess... is this where I go?"
Before she was gone, Byleth spoke up, "You fought well. I was only able to reach you in time because you taught your student well." Her glance back from where she had come, signified just what had happened.
Manuela put the clues together and weakly giggled, "I am proud of her so." The woman's fleeting sight looked to the great fort before her, "So, the Silver Maiden...will be my last stage? Heh... You know, that's...that's not too bad." Her amusement soon turned to silence. Byleth's decision to turn her back on the Empire already cost her a friend. She needed no time pulses to know that the woman was resolved to her fate. A pit formed in her stomach, but it was not enough to stop her from staring down the forces before her. The death of their commander sent them into a panic. They did not flee, but their organization was falling to pieces. They did not even pursue her in the confusion.
Killing Manuela did enough to ease the strain on the left, but it did not mean that Arianrhod was much safer. Without Lysithea, it would not nearly be as easy to reach the opposite side of the fort. She let out a sigh, recognizing that running was her best option. Her riding skills were not nearly good enough to commandeer a stray horse. Her stride was somewhat lacking, but to her benefit and dismay her run did not last nearly as long.
Western garrison already fell. The breach brought with it swarms of imperial soldiers. Kingdom forces were able to patch the holes and keep their traps in place, but the Empire had its foothold. She spotted Rodrigue's forces keeping their ground. Gwendal's forces were likely pushed downward. By charging into the center, she entered the eye of the storm.
Willing to spend another use of Sublime Heaven, she was able to create a path and dispose of a handful of Adrestians. In her haste, the woman was surrounded. An incoming arrow into her crest was what convinced her to rethink her initial approach. Her pained gaze observed the composition of her opponents. A sniper. A few warlocks. Several knights. Scores of soldiers.
With that in mind, time was compelled backward. Byleth knew better than to run headlong into her death. Instead of running straight into the mix, she fell back on her healing in order to provide support in the battle. When the same sniper set his sights on her, a Nosferatu spell was quick to silence him. The magic was far less than her sword. Far fewer people took notice of her. They were a far more manageable amount. Immersed in carnage once more, her mind reverted to a primal state.
The Ashen Demon was cutthroat, an unfeeling monster. Her greatest weakness was her feelings. The thought of being irresponsible around her allies or facing familiar foes was enough to invoke her softer side. Paired with her crest and her tools, she needed a critical hit to be grounded.
Her heart initially did nothing to hold back the demon, or rather she barely had a "heart." Her time working at the academy allowed such emotions to take form. The monster that she used to be was held back by her urge to protect and nurture a class. She was no mother figure, but the students relied on her guidance. By her lonesome in a sea of unfamiliar faces, her other side returned. The demon was not her inner darkness. It was her ignorance.
Without her emotions, she was only a weapon. Being such a monster was beneficial as a mercenary, less so as a teacher. Though, she was essentially back to that position. She was no professor. She was no commander. She was not even a retainer. She was to be another sword for the Kingdom. Swords did not need to think about who died or who was orphaned. They were a means to an end.
So while she abhorred the war and hated herself for her bloody path, her emotionless visage stemmed from being nothing more than a tool. Felix apparently did not like that sentiment, but it would be what saved the fort. Her path led her straight to the next commander. With the imperial forces settling in on their foothold, the forces were scattered on three fronts. Her mint-eyes watched the brunt of his forces do battle with Gwendal and Sylvain. All the while, Ingrid and Rodrigue had their hands full too. The center was easily the weakest front for the commander. By extension, a confrontation between the demon and him was imminent.
It was not the demon that would challenge him. Upon almost closing the gap, Byleth had history repeat itself. His voice was what snapped her from her spree. Her eyes desperately shot in his direction, hoping to the goddess that it was not who she believed it to be. Alas, she was not mistaken.
Hanneman von Essar was to be her next opponent. There was little chance to sway him to rethink his choice in supporting Edelgard, being that his battalion was already trained on her. They would not gasp or sit quietly at the opportunity to strike. Not to speak ill of the dead, but Manuela was a bit too quick to enter into a one on one with Byleth. The commander to the right made sure to have his mages trained on her position, "I truly wish I could have learned so much more about you, but someone will carry on my work."
Unlike the previous commander, the man was not shy about falling back on where his talents resided. His skill with Reason Magic was demonstrated well with the use of Sagittae. Had she not returned to her instincts, the projectiles of light from his hand would have made her into Holey Cheese. Though, her dodge did not spare her from injury. One of the mages supporting him landed a fire spell on her shoulder. Her arm was not out of commission, but the pain was immense.
"Come now, Byleth, you have to have more than that. Make use of that crest of yours." If she had not known him before, she would have assumed his words to be purely goading. His interest in her Crest of Flames was evident by his intense stare.
She was unable to give an immediate answer as she narrowly dodged an attack from another mage. The female drew her Sword of the Creator promptly, "Prepare yourself. I hope you're resolved to die." Sending a threat to someone she considered a colleague and friend was not easy. Her adrenaline was what made her able to ignore the feelings of her limbs turning to lead at the thought of killing him. Her sword swung wildly toward the older man. The distance gave him the chance to avoid the strike, but his peers were not nearly as lucky.
"I am more than prepared to see Edelgard's vision through." The mention of her student had Byleth wince. The woman was in the back of her mind because Byleth was trying to avoid imagining the fateful scene of putting her down. She was willing to take the burden of ending her student, but the thought did not sit well.
Instead of Reason Magic, Hanneman switched to Faith Magic. Agnea's Arrow flew at her at an alarming speed. The tiniest bit of hesitation would have cost her her life. Thankfully, she spent a time pulse to react faster to the magic. The spell whizzed past her and shattered like a firework against a nearby barrack, "What do you think to gain from following her? Why must both you and Manuela fall here?" Byleth cried out, running to close the gap between them. Her sword trained on his chest.
Before her blade made an impact, the older man resigned himself to his fate, lacking the evasion that his former peer had. A small chuckle was his immediate answer, "She seeks to rewrite society. Crests will no longer oppress us, and... Urk," His sentence was momentarily cut off as the sword entered his torso, "they will save those from fates... like my sister. Those... used for... crests and mistreated for being unable... to foster them. They will live... better lives." His dying confession was one that Byleth barely understood, but it made sense all the same.
She was not remorseful over the fact that she could not find another way, but she was saddened to know that she never truly understood him until the end. "I see now... that is why you joined Edelgard and sided against your own students."
The man gave a feeble nod, "If I die for this new Empire... then I have no... regrets. I will see you soon, my sister... and Manuela." There was only one former professor of the Officers Academy left on that battlefield. Such a reality could not sink in as she watched panic ensue on the imperial left flank. With only vague orders to go off of, the weight on Rodrigue and Gwendal both lightened immensely. They were not clear yet, but the pressure was reduced. Her Sublime Heaven was employed to tear through the backs of segments of imperial forces pushing south on Sylvain.
Her efforts in this battle were hardly much outside of cutting down their command. The numbers killed by her weapon only served to clear a path. Her role was still invaluable, but Byleth knew better than to think that she was the only reason for their success. Her reckless charges were under the intent of saving her allies than winning the battle. Being the target of the operation, anyone high enough in the imperial hierarchy would chase her. Though, besting both Hanneman and Manuela saved her from pursuit.
While she wanted to draw forces away, being treated as just a reckless swordmaster was a boon too. It meant she had an easier time reaching the officers. Considering that she took out the heads on two of the three fronts, it was only logical to aim for the third, even if it was becoming clear that she would do battle with another familiar face.
Upon reuniting with Sylvain, she gave a glance to his mount, "Would you mind giving me a ride?" The redhead instead of answering, gaped at her presence.
"I thought you were securing the front with Felix, how did you... get here?" It was not a good look to mention how she went above orders and ran around the battlefield on some fool's quest to help win the battle. Though, they did not exactly expect their gates to be compromised so quickly into the fighting.
She gave him a telling stare, not exactly willing to waste precious time explaining when there was still a battle to win. He sighed and offered her a spot behind on the stead. With little hesitation, she hopped on. Once the mount started riding off toward the front gate, Byleth could at least answer his question, "I took it upon myself to help reinforce each of the entry points. I... well, aim to take out each of the enemy commanders." There was no pride in telling the redhead that much.
"Like Professor Hanneman?" He was at least around to catch onto that detail. Sylvain's face was toward the path ahead rather than to her, but she could surmise that his expression was not one of relief. It was for the best that he was killed, but the older man was still a mentor to the Blue Lions. Byleth's bond with her Eagles was like silver. While her friendship with her students was partially formed by events like their victory at the Battle of the Eagle and Lion, the bonds between the other teachers and students were still strong, bonds of steel.
"Professor Hanneman and Professor Manuela," Admitting to both names was difficult. Byleth did not want to take credit for their deaths, but she was dedicated to saving Arianrhod from collapse. "I had to kill them both, but I'm sure I could have convinced them in better circumstances." A part of her remorse derived from her grand plan. If they were not on that battlefield, maybe they could have turned to her side at the moment of truth. It was saddening to know that her informant was unable to reach them.
The redhead hummed at the information, "In the end, we have accepted our circumstances. You know, I thought much the same about my brother. He could have been so much better if things were just slightly different, but it does not change the fact that he chose his fate. He chose to fall into depravity and lash out on the world." The serious tone brought no relief. Byleth may have preferred if the man had flirted. It was not meant to be comforting. It was meant to give her perspective.
Though, her perspective once believed Ignatz's and Leonie's deaths were necessary. They decided to fight for what they believed. They would not have been swayed. There were so many dead set in their positions. Everyone was unwilling to compromise their values, except... herself. She betrayed her friends twice. Twice. Dark thoughts were consuming her. Tears soon clouded her vision, "Sylvain, should I have accepted my circumstances as Edelgard's sword?"
The question sounded almost treasonous, but her feeble tone illustrated the extent of her dilemma. She was not having second thoughts, but she wanted validation on if she was scum. Sylvain did not flinch at the question, "I believe... there should be more people like you. Not flattery, I promise. I just mean... You're not controlled by your politics. And to tell you the truth, I resented you for some time for that."
The comment earned some surprise from Byleth. While she did not have a close relationship with him, the woman was unaware of any animosity, "You did? Back in the academy?"
"Mhm," He confirmed, "I truly resented you. You got to live your life without knowing about or caring for your crest. You lived a peaceful life without politics. I resented you because I envied you." His confession made the woman's eyes widen. She never thought much of how her upbringing compared to the others, aside from thinking herself less snobby.
"And you want more people like me?" Byleth inquired, wishing to return to the original point. There was little time left in their ride. The tattered front guard was in the distance. They still stood, but it was clear where the tide of battle was going.
As the noble's stead halted and she had the chance to hop off, the woman sent a glance backward to the redhead. Sylvain gave her a soft look when their eyes met, "You're not bound by loyalties or grudges. You fight for what you believe. I believe in his majesty and your cause, but I would have sooner fought you than joined you if you were still aligned with the Empire." With that said, Byleth found some semblance of security. There was no smile, but she did not have to worry about apologizing to the spirits for now.
Sublime Heaven brought forth a great upheaval on the Adrestian invaders. The regular army could only stare in horror and amazement at the serpentine blade tore through rank after rank. The flare of crimson matched the blood spilled by each cut. Her sword was practically depleted. The relic was properly returned to its sheath, replaced with a glistening silver sword.
"Byleth, you're alright!" Lysithea chirped from afar, delighted to see the woman once again rejoin their front. Upon a closer glance, both her and Felix looked worse for wear, but they were still standing. Her timing was a bit too impeccable. Her mint-eyes glanced out at the sea of bodies, both living and dead. It was evident that the bulk of the forces were pressuring the front.
Byleth only flashed a smile in response, not able to do much more than that. Even with an audience before her, the demon's grip drew her back into bliss. She was soon blind to the suffering her blade incurred. Sothis' being could not change her mind entirely. Her emotions made it easier to smile and weep, but nameless men were just ramparts in her dull eyes.
It was a fortress knight that landed a lucky blow with his shield, slamming right into the burn on her shoulder. The pain debilitated her momentarily, enough to force her to fall backward. The blow landed her on the ground. Thankfully, a well-timed Miasma saved her from meeting the armored man's axe. "You're hurt," Felix curtly remarked, his hand extended to hers.
She sheepishly accepted the gesture and returned to her feet, "It was just... a fire spell." Though, the pain made it apparent that she was lying. Her mind slowly pieced together just what gave her the injury. Ragnarok. She was hit by a Ragnarok spell, one of the highest tiers of fire magic. Byleth could not help but be amazed at how much her resistance had grown.
Felix frowned at her words and sent Sylvain a glare, "We would have preferred more able-bodied reinforcements." The redhead could only wince, likely not even catching sight of the wound.
"Beggars can't be choosers," Byleth huffed, "I will end this swiftly." Her eyes scanned the people for any discernible markings. She was lucky, or well unlucky, that she recognized the faces of the commanders. Her deadly fighting style matched with her intellect around her opponents served her well, but she was leaving herself a bit too open in her hesitation. The burns to her shoulder and the bruises to her side told that much.
All three looked about ready to protest the comment. Though, it was Lysithea who got the chance to speak first, "You can't just rush ahead. Just look at how many of them there are!" There was no end to them. Without the right and left flanks leadership, they likely were regrouping to the center. Simple tactics were hardly enough to lay claim to Faerghus' Silver Maiden.
It was either jump on the opportunity now or give the Empire the night to regroup their forces. An extended battle was not something that either side could benefit from, but another day would serve their enemies better than them. Even if the spies were all purged, the losses were not something to scoff at. "Lysithea, do you have another use of Warp?"
The white-haired woman frowned at the question and shook her head, "I am afraid I was not able to achieve the rank of gremory. I only had one use." The news meant that her plan of teleporting forward was off the table, "Byleth, please don't go getting crazy ideas."
The woman looked to her other allies. Felix was back to fending off against a fortress knight as Sylvain was locked in battle with another paladin. The rest of the soldiers were busy against their imperial counterparts. She could not call on them for any hair-brained schemes. There were still a few time pulses left. Some trial and error could be employed. Generally, she did not make a habit of this insane tactic, but the situation required her to act recklessly. "Very well... Could you heal up my shoulder at least? I wish to at least support them."
The request could not be ignored. If Lysithea knew better, then maybe she would have declined it outright. The heal spell did its work. The damage would require rest, but the lack of pain would service her plan perfectly. She expressed her gratitude, before running her gambit.
It was a shame that she did not have her battalion, but she had a serviceable idea in mind. Breaking into a sprint from her position, both enemies and allies gawked at her. "You idiot!" Lysithea's cry was heard from behind.
Byleth did not know where the commander was just yet, but this was to be trial and error. She cocked her sword and prepared for a Windsweep. The combat art allowed her not to get countered. The blade cut the wind and met its mark on a paladin's neck. A successive use of the combat art got her further into the enemy's formation.
Her speed and tenacity served her well at first, but she only had to miss one step. Her first use of time pulse came as she ventured right, only to receive a lance to her torso. That was a failure. The pain was momentary thankfully. Time rewound to before her turn. Instead, she aimed straight. Her third use of Windsweep put considerable strain on her silver sword, but she was one step closer to her target. The strategist was sensible in putting enough distance himself and the rest of his units. Though, her evasiveness was enough to save her... to an extent.
There was one more misstep before she saw progress again. The memory of being skewered was not pleasant, but she at least could manipulate time to service her needs. The woman would have fallen back on her demon personality, but she needed to think ahead. An escape route was necessary. She hoped that creating a divide in the forces would shatter their push and allow her allies to counter the assault. If that failed, she could accept the result of preparing for another day.
Her idea of trial and error could work so long as she had at least one time pulse left. After her two previous attempts, she had three chances left before she arrived at her final use. She had three chances. The third chance was needed after she tripped on a discarded lance. Her clumsiness would have been comical under different circumstances, but at that moment she very nearly died.
Another Windsweep was all it took to shatter her silver sword. She discarded the weapon in favor of the very lance she stumbled over in her last attempt. Her prowess with the other weapon type was lacking in comparison, but it at least served to give her a better matchup against other lances.
After much hard work and nearly dying... three times, Byleth hit a clearing. She expected to be surrounded and promptly dealt with. However, it appeared the commander had a different thought. Eyes and weapons were honed in on her, but she was not dead. As her gaze rose to meet her final adversary, the woman's mouth gaped. Her "heart" ached upon seeing the strategist's face.
"Hubert," His name left her tongue with a sour taste. "I... you're here." Her mint-eyes scanned him over. Byleth expected his usual calculating gaze, but she was taken aback by the sheer malice in his eyes. It was looking to be an unhappy reunion.
"Professor," His voice showed no warmth in it, "it is good to see you again." His pleasantry was empty of any good feelings. His lime eyes only revealed resentment. Her confrontations with both Manuela and Hanneman did not carry this same level of weight. They had not trusted her to the same extent that Hubert had.
Byleth only realized how foolish she was for not suspecting him to be the ringleader of the operation. Though, there would have been no amount of time in the world to prepare her for this conversation, "You as well. I... wish I could have left on better terms." That much was true. A peaceful resignation from the army was not exactly an option, not unless she wished to be detained.
Her words did little to placate the man's apparent animosity, "I am glad. I was starting to think you may have tried to escape and revealed your true nature to your new 'allies'." His words stung, but she was not undeserving of the accusation. Even if Sylvain thought nothing wrong with her decision, she still could not deny being scum for turning her back on the very people that trusted her.
"Hubert, I am truly sorry for what I had to do, but I could not follow her any longer. I could not imagine how this war could truly bring Fódlan peace." While she wholeheartedly believed the thought, the shakiness in her voice portrayed her as a coward. Before her former allies, she looked like a sniveling brat.
"Silence," He barked out, "you betrayed Lady Edelgard's trust. You betrayed my trust! You made us think that you would be by our side. We depended on you. And in return for our reliance, we received a knife to the back." The scorn in his eyes was unmissable. There was little room for fonder days. The only one hung up on this confrontation was Byleth.
Her voice was cracking, "I didn't want to betray your trust. Hubert, I never wished to hurt you or her." As much as she would take responsibility for Edelgard, their battle was not one the green-haired woman longed for. The wretched Emperor was the same person that she comforted after being stricken with nightmares. Her El was the Flame Emperor.
Despite the sincerity in her voice, Hubert sneered at the words, "Your sentiments mean nothing. Ever since your departure, Lady Edelgard has been in hysterics. You are lucky that she wanted me to capture you alive. I would have preferred you were offed in the battle, but bringing you back will be just as sufficient. Either you come with me or you die resisting." It was little comfort to know that her escape brought her former student grief. Imaging the proud woman stricken by her betrayal was not something Byleth wished to do.
"El, I'm sorry..." She spoke in only a murmur. Her mint-eyes gave a meek stare to the black-haired man, "Hubert, is there really no other way? Is there no other way he could settle this?" Killing him was necessary, but her resolve was only recently repairing itself. The initial heartbreak of her decision was not easy to overcome. The constant distractions of escaping imperial territory and convincing the Lions kept her from the dreaded thoughts.
His head promptly shook to her plea, "I cannot trust the words of a traitor. There was a time your words mattered to me, but that time is gone." His palm was aimed toward her, likely in preparation for a spell.
The best option would be to strike him down then and there. Her lance was on clean toss away from puncturing in his torso, "Hubert, please. I can't... I can't fight you like this. I don't want to hurt you."
A dark chuckle left his lips in response, "Hurt me? Professor, I believed in you despite my better judgment. I knew you were to be a thorn in Lady Edelgard's side, but I thought I was wrong. The day you turned your sword on Rhea. I was willing to put aside my doubts," Darkness swept around him upon invoking a Banshee spell, "but I was mistaken." The man's plan was likely to use the magic to immobilize her.
There was little she could do to reason with him. She held no hope for swaying him her way. All she could do was accept the reality of her choice, "You are right. I am undeserving of your trust. I will not lie. I will stop Edelgard, but..." Her weakness showed through once again, "I wish I did not have to." Despite everything, they were still her precious students.
"I am thankful, Professor. I was almost remiss to turn my magic on you, but your words give me no doubts. I have no qualms in killing you if it is what you seek." With that said, he unleashed his spell. Not yet willing to give in, the woman managed to evade the attack at the last minute. Her resolve hardened, her reflexes acted. The lance was flung from her hands and landed directly in his chest.
Hubert coughed up blood and looked bewildered, "Maybe... I did have a reason not to. Urgh, I can't... fall here. Lady Edelgard..." The horror of the sight had Byleth unable to move, unable to react as the soldiers around them reigned hell onto her. Time came to a halt. The scene was frozen. This could not do for her Byleth. She wanted to think that her turning back time was for her own sake, but a small part of her was not ready to let him die. Just as much as Edelgard was a beloved student of hers, Hubert too held that distinction. She could not forgive them for their war, but she needed more time before she could bring justice for the dead.
Time rewound all the way back to as Lysithea was patching her up. Byleth gave a tired look to her ally, "Lysithea, I'm sorry..." Her memory went back to those that would stay dead. The white-haired woman's teacher, her counterpart, would remain one. "I wish I could have convinced Professor Manuela."
While it was likely news to the other that her mentor was present on the battlefield and by extension cut down by her friend, the expression on her face showed no resentment, "I would have wished she lived, but I trust you. I'm sure you would have saved her if you could." The reassurance did so much more than what Lysithea had even intended. Even with the world against her and thinking her to be a monster, she was glad to know someone had faith in her. Byleth's faith in herself needed support after letting go of her ambition to effectively win the battle. Hubert would live another day, but they may not have the same luxury the next day.