Gotta give a big shoutout to my good friend and fellow writer TheBobcat18 for this one. He directed me to some sources that really helped me work out some of the sticking points for this chapter. If you like Star Wars and haven't read his story The Force's Shepherds I highly recommend it!


Chapter 19: Showstopper

Gelida Dominus may be the capital of the east, and Auream Dominus may be the capital of the West, but if you ask any Feroxi what the true capital of Regna Ferox is, they will tell you the same thing.

The heart of Regna Ferox is in its arena. The building stands tall, as massive as the Roman colosseum would have been back in its heyday, a point of pride for all the Feroxi people. This nation was forged through the unification of hundreds of barbarian tribes; people hardened by centuries of battle who decided to join together and create something truly awe-inspiring. They formed their nation around the arena, a promise to themselves and to the rest of the world that their warrior spirit would never falter.

The festival is a reflection of that. The Feroxi aren't barbarians anymore, but the spirit of competition rules this nation. Where Feroxi once competed for food and shelter, they now compete for political influence. Strength is still what matters here; they simple choose a different means by which to measure it. They know that strength is a thing that comes in many forms.

Strength can be found in influence, in connections, and in leadership ability. It can come from great wisdom and intelligence. It can come in physical strength.

And if my past month is any indication, it can come in the form of absolutely saintly. Levels. Of patience.

It's been a lot of work getting to this point. People to organize, talent to find, and things I had to just straight up invent for the sake of this show. And it all comes down to this.

I stand on Khan Flavia's viewing balcony, and snap out several swift hand signs. As I peer into the crowd I'm pleased to see the signs echoed from multiple key locations around the arena. My troops are in place.

"We're ready to go." I nod to Flavia.

"After everything you had me pay for you'd better be." Flavia snorts from her seat of honor. "I'm taking a big gamble letting you do this, you know."

"What gamble? I'm a great singer." I wave a hand dismissively.

"I'm gambling that you'll be able to point that talent you have for being a pain in my ass in a different direction for a change." Flavia replies. "I'm still not convinced you're not doing this to make my life miserable."

"Just wait." I grin in anticipation. "If you Feroxi are anywhere near as good at partying as you seem to think you are, this is going to blow some minds. Your doctors may have written papers on my medical treatment, but your performers are going to be the ones taking notes this time."

"I'll believe it when I see it." Flavia leans back calmly. "And if I don't see it, well…" She chuckles darkly.

Welp, no pressure.

I take my position on the corner of the balcony as the other Shepherds file in. Lissa and Sumia beeline for me, same way they've been doing for weeks now, but it looks like they're not trying to drag a heart-to-heart conversation out of me for a change. Which is good because this isn't the place, and they had a job to do.

"Hello ladies." I raise my arms in welcome, then rethink and step back. "What the hell happened to you?"

"Frederick." Sumia replies, expression hinting that she's on the verge of violence. "We practically had to fight him to get the paint on." From the look of her it was a dangerous battle indeed. Her front is positively splattered with blue and green. It'll be hell to wash that out if it's not done soon, but Sumia clearly doesn't have any intention of missing the show. Her dedication is awe inspiring, truly.

"That guy needs to learn how to relax once in a while!" Lissa stomps a foot irritably.

"Pull rank on him when we're back in Ylisse." I reply with a grin. "You are royalty after all." Lissa gets that same devilish grin she gets when planning a prank, and I turn back to Sumia hastily. "No problem with the others?"

"Severa doesn't like to say no to you, and Chrom certainly won't say no to me." Sumia gives me a coy smile. "Everyone else was happy to go along with it. Just wait until you see Vaike!"

"Oho, that sounds promising!" I grin, turning back to the audience. "Alright, that was the last item on the agenda. This is going to be a show to remember!"

My grin broadens as Basilio rises from his seat on the opposite side of the arena. He raises his arms and the crowd roars in approval. The reigning Khan is about to start the show.

Basilio strides to the edge of the balcony, an absolute behemoth of a man, and gestures to the man next to him. It's a mage, and the guy looks tiny when compared to his boss. But the way his hands start to move reveal a serious talent for complicated spell weaving. This guy is a highly trained specialist in wind magic, who uses magic to amplify and spread the sound of the Khan's voice throughout the stadium. It takes a serious master to pull such a complex spell off.

I hired two of them on my end and it came out to more than half my goddamn budget. Which meant a lot of creative money management on my end.

"WELCOME, CITIZENS OF REGNA FEROX!" Basilio's voice explodes into the air. The big bastard just yells at the top of his damn lungs, and when combined with the amplification spell the force of his voice is enough to make me wince. I swear it blows the hair out of my eyes.

The effect is undeniable, drowning out the yelling and cheering of thousands of Feroxi and bringing them to an immediate state of rapt attention. In the wake of Basilio's deafening greeting the arena is immediately struck absolutely silent. I can't help but be impressed by it.

Basilio looks around appraisingly and nods, seemingly satisfied that his opening produced the desired effect. "Good turnout this year! Gotta say, pretty shocked you all keep coming out to say the same thing every three years, but I guess that goes to show the Feroxi have a good eye for politics! It feels like only yesterday I was watching my champion win for the seventh time…"

Khan Basilio doesn't seem to be much of a linguist, but he's loud and in charge so his words are having an effect. Already the Westerners are roaring in approval while the Easterners hiss and boo. Both reactions are fuel to the Khan's fire. Best to douse this quickly before he picks up too much momentum. I signal to my mage and he starts casting wind magic.

"I can only hope this time around Khan Flavia has chosen somebody who can last more than five minutes after her pitiful performance last-"

STOMP

STOMP

CLAP

The sound is amplified to the maximum volume my helper can manage, and does a hell of a job cutting the noisy bastard off.

"… year. What the hell?" Khan Basilio's arms drop as he squints suspiciously across the arena towards our balcony. "You gonna fight back, or just make a lot of noise Flavia? This isn't-"

STOMP

STOMP

CLAP

Flavia snorts, and I give her a nod along with the cheekiest grin I can manage. Basilio walks over to the edge of his balcony and leans over. "OI-"

STOMP STOMP CLAP

STOMP STOMP CLAP

STOMP STOMP CLAP

STOMP STOMP CLAP

And now we have a proper tempo going. By the third repetition the Shepherds behind me have joined in, prompted mostly by an enthusiastic Lissa.

And by the fourth the hundred or so people I've planted throughout the audience join in as well. Mob psychology does the rest from there. It only takes a few people joining in with their neighbours to start a chain reaction that spreads throughout the stadium. Even the folks from Western Ferox join in, sensing something interesting about to begin. The pattern repeats from there without my input, and the thousands of people joining in almost equal my amplified noise in volume. Just like that, we have a percussion section.

Higher in the stands, on the opposite end from me, two more groups I planted trigger their fire spells, lighting two giant lanterns. A set of mirrors direct the light straight at Khan Flavia's balcony, and while the result is hardly what I'd call a steady beam of light, it does the job well enough. I invented these makeshift spotlights in a couple of days, so the design could definitely stand to be refined. But if you've never seen a spotlight before (like literally everyone else in the arena) this is probably pretty mind-blowing.

All eyes turn to Flavia's balcony, and from there, they focus in on the sight of a cloaked figure who leaps onto the edge of the balcony. That figure being, of course, me. I steady myself, rise to my feet and grin at the sound of confused murmuring throughout the stadium, a low drone behind the steady rhythm of stomping feet.

I hold my arms up to my side, and Lissa and Noire run forward to grab my cloak, while Donnel holds me steady. The cloak is pulled away, revealing clothing of pristine white, my arms and shoulders bare.

Because if I'm going to sing the anthem of every sporting event I ever attended in my childhood, I'm going to make it a proper fucking tribute. With my hair still short from my medical treatment all you'd need to do is slap a mustache on my face and I'd be the spitting image of one of the greatest rock stars of all time. Hats off to you, Freddie.

I start stomping again, and the people who paused to wonder what the heck was going on join in again, raising the volume back to a proper cacophony of a percussion.

STOMP STOMP CLAP

STOMP STOMP CLAP

STOMP STOMP CLAP

STOMP STOMP CLAP

STOMP STOMP CLAP

STOMP STOMP CLAP

STOMP STOMP CLAP

STOMP STOMP CLAP

Buddy, you're a boy, make a big noise
Playing in the street, gonna be a big man someday
You got mud on your face, you big disgrace
Kicking your can all over the place, singin'

We will, we will rock you
We will, we will rock you

I start pacing along the balcony as I sing the first chorus, raising an arm to point across the arena at Basilio, and as I do the people in the arena start screaming with excitement. The meaning of the lyrics is sinking in, and the Feroxi are loving it. East or West, these people clearly love a show.

Buddy, you're a young man, hard man
Shouting in the street, gonna take on the world someday
You got blood on your face, you big disgrace
Waving your banner all over the place

We will, we will rock you, sing it!
We will, we will rock you!

They're singing along, holy shit this is amazi- focus! Focus!

Buddy, you're an old man, poor man
Pleading with your eyes, gonna get you some peace someday
You got mud on your face, big disgrace
Somebody better put you back into your place, do it!

We will, we will rock you
We will, we will rock you
We will, we will rock you
We will, we will rock you

The people sing along in earnest as I wave them on, but in the background another sound starts to build; a note, one rapidly growing in intensity. The most important piece of this puzzle, the one instrument played in this song of kings. This presented me with a problem during the planning phase: guitars apparently don't exist yet. Not even a dedicated band geek like myself has the knowhow to make one, so I chose the next best thing. Another string instrument known for powerful tones and serious intensity.

The motherfucking cello.

Not just any cello player though! The most insane, unorthodox cello player known in Ferox. A man sneered upon by his fellow musicians across the continent for his wild and undisciplined playing.

A man who was all too happy to help after hearing his son had been rescued by slavers. Truly, destiny had a hand in this performance.

The spotlights turn slowly several balconies over to where Christoph, the mad Cello player of Eastern Ferox weaves his bow across the strings. As his own designated wind mage weaves the sound through the air Christoph increases the intensity of his drawn out note until the sound feels as though it's drilling into the foundations of the arena itself. The audience, being proud Feroxi and therefore not to be outdone, begin singing even louder in response, stamping their feet in unison with the clear intention of making the ground shake.

I make a frantic cutting motion to my mage and he ends the spell making my voice carry across the arena. I fall back behind the balcony wall as Christoph abandons his single note and begins to let his fingers fly along the neck of the cello. Donnel supports me as I stagger out of sight, and Stahl rushes over with water and a tonic he prepared in advance.

"Water first, then the tonic." He instructs as he hands me a flagon. "It'll be unpleasant, but you need to let the tonic sit a while before washing it down if you want the full effect."

"Leave the tonic a minute." I wheeze, taking small sips of the water. "Not done just yet."

This is the price to pay for performing in front of a stadium of people with damaged lungs. I realized very quickly during practice that singing is… while not impossible, certainly ill-advised. But the show must go on.

"Ben, you can't-"

"No more singing. I promise." I reply. "Just need to do a bit of talking." Stahl doesn't look impressed, but he relents all the same.

I drink some more water and walk back out to the balcony. Flavia is grinning like a lunatic as she watches Christoph play, and all around the stadium I see similar reactions. Christoph's bow is fraying further by the second, his arm rocketing back and forth and his arm trembling as he presses the strings. The crowd roars in approval, having given up on singing completely in the face of this lunatic playing his cello with the intensity of a man at war. Were it not for the beat they somehow continue to keep, I have little doubt this stadium would dissolve into complete insanity.

Were you to write a story of Christoph's life, there is little doubt in my mind that this would be the climax. I have to pause on my way to my position, in awe. His face is beaming, his arms shaking, his cello screaming. The crowd roars, barely contained by the rhythm he plays to, the tempo they keep for him. The mage moves his arms fluidly, a strange sort of dance he performs to the music he's spreading. I see a familiar looking boy jumping along to the music, motions devoid of his father's sense of rhythm but full of joy and a freedom that wasn't there when I found him in a cage not two months ago.

A part of me wants nothing more than to let Christoph play like this forever. The other part of me indulges for just a moment before I signal my wind mage and advance back on the wall. Christoph, a true professional even as he makes history as the first rock star of Ferox, lets the intensity build for just a moment longer before performing a swift and precise descending chromatic scale and keeping a low C held as the lights swivel back to me.

"HEY YOU FEROXI BASTARDS!" I roar to the crowd. "YOU'VE BEEN DOING THINGS THE SAME WAY AROUND HERE FOR THE LAST TWENTY FOUR YEARS, BUT NOW IT'S TIME TO SHAKE! THINGS! UP!"

The crowd roars in excitement and I leap back up onto the wall again. "THAT'S WHAT I LIKE TO HEAR! MAKE SOME NOISE! STOMP YOUR FEET! THIS WILL BE A FIGHT LIKE NOTHING YOU'VE SEEN BEFORE! KHAN FLAVIA OF THE EAST IS DONE PLAYING SECOND BEST! SHE'S TAKING HER THRONE, AND SHE'S DECIDED TO DO IT IN THE BIGGEST GODS-DAMNED WAY REGNA FEROX HAS EVER SEEN! SO LET ME HEAR YOU MAKE SOME NOISE FOR YOUR NEW CHAMPION IN THE MAKING!"

The crowd decides to respond to that by bellowing loudly enough to make my head rattle, and if it weren't for the absolutely indescribable adrenaline rush this was giving me I swear it'd knock me right off the fucking wall. "THAT'S WHAT I LIKE TO HEAR! THEN IT IS MY MOST INCREDIBLE HONOR TO INTRODUCE TO YOU ALL, THE CHAMPION OF THE EAST, THE PRINCE OF YLISSE, LORD CHROM, AND HIS PERSONAL MILITIA, THE SHEEEEEEEEEEPHEEEEEEEEEEEERDS!"

The gates below me open with this cue, and my last two mages, one level above me, spray an explosion of white sparks into the air. They fizzle out as they fall around the gate, framing the entrance with light, and Christoph starts playing again in earnest as the group emerges. Chrom, Frederick, Sully, Vaike, Robin, Miriel, and Severa. My wind mage has to hastily dart away as the others crowd around me, peering down at our chosen group.

Chrom marches proudly at the head of the pack, holding aloft the standard of Eastern Ferox (a wolf of ice blue, ringed by pine trees, against a white background). His usual cape has been replaced by a deep forest green one, and he wears full armor, rather than the usual light equipment he tends to bear. The armor, normally polished silver with gold trim, has been painted over with the same icy blues and greens that color the standard he plants in the ground. Behind him, the others show similar colors, having all been seen to by Sumia and Lissa in advance.

True to Sumia's earlier complaint, Frederick looks thoroughly miserable beneath all the paint on his armor. The others seem to have taken it in stride though. Sully grins proudly atop her horse, despite the patches of unpainted red armor clashing horribly with her team colors. Robin has abandoned his coat for the sake of looking the part, leaving his arms bare; one painted green, the other blue. Miriel's coloring looks so flawless I have little doubt some sort of spell is involved, and she looks avidly around as she takes notes on the crowd reactions. Severa has less color than the others, but seems to have weaved ribbons of blue and white into her twintails, no doubt a compromise so she wouldn't have to deal with any paint.

And then there's Vaike. What a fucking treasure he is. He stands shirtless, as always, with his left half painted green and his right half painted blue. He holds a shortaxe in each hand, with a steel greataxe belted to his back, and he howls wildly as the crowd cheers. He postures for the audience, totally in his element, and they make their approval clear.

Our group does the same, though our cheering has no shortage of laughter mixed in.

"You look wonderful, Chrom!"

"Looking good, bro!"

"Don't look so glum Frederick, you are the picture of beauty!"

"Sully! Sully up here! No, over- over here… drat."

"You really outdid yourself with the paint, Sumia."

"Why thank you, Stahl!"

"Not a bad show, Flavia!" Basilio's voice suddenly cuts back in. "But I'm afraid the effect will be cut down a fair bit once my champion is done beating your little prince into the ground."

Flavia gestures sharply to my wind mage and the man rapidly shifts his spell over to her. "Bold words, old man! Let's see if you can back them up!" She steps forward and places a foot on the balcony, leaning into the arena. "This lot has carved through bandits, slavers, and monsters all across my lands, and that's in just the past few months! What do you have that can beat them? Not that Chon'sin boy of yours again, I hope?"

"Bahahaha!" Basilio rears back his head and slaps his chest as he laughs. "No, not him. I just hired the man who beat him instead! OI, COME ON OUT, YOU LOT."

Flavia grimaces a bit at his declaration, though she hides it well enough that I'm sure nobody outside of the balcony could notice. All eyes move to the opposite gates, which open to reveal a rather typical arrangement for Regna Ferox: Two hulking brutes with axes, two heavily armored knights, and two mages.

Then comes the star of the show (excluding Christoph of course), Lucina, also known as Marth. And, in a surprising turn of events, she's flanked by two other familiar people. One, a knight with purple trim, the other, a mage with a ridiculously oversized hat.

"Oh shit." Noire whispers from beside me.

"Laurent and Kjelle?" I mutter to her under my breath.

She wordlessly nods in response, before groaning. "Oh, we are going to be in so much trouble. Lucina was very clear that we weren't supposed to contact you guys!"

Lissa looks back from fawning over Marth in concern. "Is she alright?"

"I think it's just the noise getting to her a bit." I wave it off with a shrug. "C'mon kiddo, let's get you sitting down, that'll help. You got any more water, Stahl?"

"Hang on." He jogs over to one of Flavia's servers, then returns a moment later with a fresh flagon. Unlike myself Noire is poured a goblet, which she accepts gratefully. Stahl then shoves my flagon back into my hands. "You need to re-examine your definition of 'a bit of talking', by the way."

"By Feroxi standards I was downright timid." I snort, taking a long drink from the flagon. "Ahh, but yeah, I'll take that tonic now, if you don't mind."

Stahl rolls his eyes and passes it over, taking the flagon from me. "Wait at least fifteen minutes before you have anything to drink."

I drain the flask in one gulp, and wince as I feel the burn on my throat. It passes swiftly though, replaced by a feeling like every breath I take is as cold as the air outside. "Oof!" I cough as the icy sensation sweeps through my lungs. "Whatever the fuck that does, it's certainly working."

"It runs in the family." Stahl grins, before his attention is drawn back towards the arena. "Oh, it's starting!"

Noire still seems too nervous to get up, so I leave her in her seat and return to the balcony, just in time to see Marth and Chrom's clash draw to a close. Now that the performance is over, the men I assigned to the spotlights seem to have decided to put them to better use, and the fight is cast in a stark contrast to the darker, torch-lit clashes.

So far the only combat outside of the two champions comes from the mages, who are beginning to feel each other out. Robin is clearly the weakest of the group in terms of pure magical power, but Miriel is so far above the others that it's an even battle. A flashy one too, as gouts of fire and bolts of lightning burst on either side of the epic duel occurring in the center of the ring. The attacks are large enough that the others are given little choice but to walk around.

"It sure is a shame that we weren't allowed to bring mounts." Kellam notes as he watches Sully jog around the magical battle occurring.

"I am afraid it couldn't be helped." Virion replies with a forlorn tone. "Infantry combat is held in such high regard amongst the Feroxi people, after all. Why, it is practically sacred!"

"Still, it cuts down how effective they are by a fair bit." I note, watching Frederick running along the opposite side in his heavy plate armor. "Frederick and Sully are both brutal fighters, but their horses add a lot to their ability."

"Ylisse trains us just as well without horses as with, don't worry." Stahl replies.

"Oh yes, even I had foot training." Sumia nods along, before adding sheepishly, "Of course, my training was with heavy armor, so I can't really use it well if I get dismounted. Pegasus knights can't really use plate."

I'm just going to add 'complete lack of cohesion in fighting styles' to the list of thinly disguised assassination attempts I've been keeping for Sumia. It feels sometimes like those noble shits were doing everything in their power to hold her back.

I put the thought aside as the melee units begin to clash, in an oddly balanced conflict. Vaike and Sully are on one side of the spell casters, and Frederick and Severa take the other. Each duo faces off against one axe user and one armored knight.

"Why is this so even?" I ask aloud. "This is just a bunch of two on two battles."

"Yeah, shouldn't our team have mopped them up by now?" Lissa asks with a grin.

"A good point." Virion looks about curiously. "I have not seen a single trace of Marth's final two companions since the battle began. Where could they be hiding?"

The million dollar question right there. It's an open ring, with nothing to be seen inside, save for some exquisite patterns painted in the floor. So where are they hiding? Kjelle's too bulky to hide behind the knights, so they must be either around the outside of the arena… or…

"Of course, the fire!" Virion calls out in alarm just as the answer comes to me. We both turn our attention to the middle of the arena, where Robin is using wind magic to fend off a steady stream of fire from the enemy mage. It's too steady, in fact. Impractically so. The amount of energy needed to keep a constant flamethrower going is extremely taxing; even Miriel would feel considerable strain. From his position on the ground, Robin is too overwhelmed with defending to see the missing variables in this fight, his vision blocked by flames. Which means the Shepherd most capable of picking out a surprise attack has been placed in the worst position to do so.

By the time I've begun to debate yelling a warning the mage has already dropped his wall of fire, and from behind it Kjelle and Laurent rush at Vaike and Sully. Robin, to his credit, realizes the predicament they're in immediately and attempts to pin them with his winds, but Laurent has his own book at the ready and deflects the technique. Sully is on the verge of defeating her opponent, but seeing the additional forces rushing in forces her on the defensive. She kicks at the enemy knight to create space, and barely manages to brace herself in time before Kjelle hits her like a fucking truck.

Despite seeing her opponent coming, Sully is still sent tumbling away by the force of Kjelle's blow (more of a tackle, really). They're probably equals in strength, but Kjelle has far heavier armor, and that weight difference matters when one opponent is bull-rushing the other. Sully rolls like an expert, and skids to a halt on her feet, but Kjelle is already bearing down with her spear by time she's stopped moving.

Vaike is left to handle the Feroxi opponents alone, as Robin prevents Laurent from finishing the job. Robin's previous opponent, the mage, moves past the two to flank Miriel, and forces her to defend an attack from the rear. Her original opponent stops for just a moment, catching his breath after nearly being overwhelmed by the superior mage.

And for just an instant, there is a clear line of sight between Marth and Chrom's duel, and Severa's fight against the enemy knight.

In one instant, Chrom has locked swords with his opponent, and is using his superior strength and weight to overpower them.

In the next, he is left alone in the middle of the arena, completely at a loss as to what just happened.

The mages engage Miriel together just as Marth crosses, and there's a brief cry of alarm as the enemy champion rolls under a bolt of lightning, leaping to her feet and rushing ahead. Lucina (because what she's doing right now clearly has nothing to do with her fake personality) then blindsides Severa just as she knocks the knight out.

"WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE?" Lucina shrieks in an indignant rage, swinging the Falchion in a blow that sends Severa flying.

"HOLY SHIT, SEVERA!" I yell in horror as the girl (my fucking daughter!) rolls across the ground and stops in a crumpled heap.

"It's alright, she got her sword up just in time!" Kellam reassures me, placing a comforting hand on my shoulder. "She wasn't cut!"

"I DON'T GIVE A SHIT, I'LL STILL FUCKING END HER! YOU HEAR THAT, YOU BLUE HAIRED CUNT!?" I bellow across the arena.

"Ben!" Sumia shrieks, completely scandalized.

"Holy shit." Stahl whispers, looking stunned.

"There are some things you should not be saying to a woman, regardless of circumstances!" Virion scolds.

"HAHAHAHAHA, YOU TELL HIM, BEN!" Flavia roars with laughter from her throne, before stopping thoughtfully. "Wait, you said… her?"

"Oh yes, our opponent Marth is, despite her claims to the contrary, in fact a woman!" Virion replies with a flourish. "I could tell from the moment I first saw her, of course."

"Is that something to be proud of?" Donnel asks curiously. Lissa lets out a somewhat heartbroken whine beside him, as she stares down at Marth in shock.

"Is Severa alright?" Noire asks, stepping up beside me and peering down into the arena.

"NOIRE, YOU TOO?" Lucina immediately yells as she glares up to the balcony. Noire squeaks in a panic and retreats behind me. "DON'T THINK I DON'T SEE YOU-"

Lucina cuts off abruptly, whirling around in shock just as Frederick swats her with the flat of his lance, sending her flying even further than Severa did.

"Well horse plop, she got her guard up too!" Donnel proclaims in disappointment.

"Still pretty fucking satisfying though!" I grin savagely, watching as she shakily gets to her feet. She rises, lifting her sword steadily as Frederick advances steadily towards her.

Then things go right to shit as a blast of lightning strikes the heavily armored knight in the back. He spasms with the hit, takes a few staggering steps, and promptly falls over unconscious.

"Holy shit what." I gasp, looking towards the rest of the arena.

While we were all focused on Marth's actions, things seem to have gone right to shit. Sully and Kjelle seem to have largely abandoned their weapons in favor of just beating the shit out of each other, and Kjelle looks to be fighting to get Sully in a chokehold. Chrom, being surrounded by outnumbered allies, moved to assist Vaike with his two opponents, and looks to have been victorious, though Vaike appears to be unconscious now. Unfortunately, this means Miriel was forced to deal with her two mage opponents on her own, and was overwhelmed after only taking out one of them. The other, while pretty fucking thoroughly singed, managed to shoot Frederick in the back.

The only place where things haven't developed is the fight between Laurent and Robin, which is trapped in a total stalemate, the two circling each other in the center as they throw and dodge spells at a furious pace. Both look tired, but are still clearly in the best shape of the two teams.

Chrom makes a snap decision and runs at the enemy mage, hoping to get in close before he can be taken down by spells. The mage panics and throws a fire spell at him, hoping to wall him off, but it only slows Chrom down for a moment. This is, however, all the time Lucina needed to close in and force Chrom back into a melee. The mage relaxes, no longer under such extreme pressure, and circles slowly, preparing another spell to take the prince out of the fight for good.

Not far away, I see Kjelle drop Sully and begin to stagger over to Chrom as well. The girl is sporting two black eyes, and what looks like a broken ankle, and is bleeding from a wound in her side. She looks fucking thrilled, though whether it's due to her victory or because she's just pleased her mom put up such a good fight is beyond me.

Either way, Chrom now faces imminent attack from three angles. He's in better shape than all three of them, but the disadvantage is still massive for him. Especially since despite the heavy blow she took, Marth has all the resilience of somebody who's fought for their life since childhood.

Unless Robin manages to beat Laurent it's looking like a certain defeat for us, but Robin doesn't seem to be breaking that stalemate any time soon. Instead he's pushing Laurent away from the conflict, no doubt hoping to buy himself as much time as possible.

I state my suspicions aloud and Virion frowns. "It's certainly his best hope in this case, as far as I can tell. Still, such a strategy seems far too simplistic for a man of Robin's caliber. Surely there must be something else at foot here."

"Geez, are you sure that isn't just, you know, wishful thinking?" Donnel replies uneasily. "We're looking more cornered than a rabbit in a snare right about now."

"No, he's right." Noire replies, staring down at the field. "Robin's got another trick up his sleeve. He always does."

The comment draws curious looks from everyone, myself included, until Virion laughs it off. "The lovely Miss Noire has been watching my games with our tactician for the past month. Our new recruit has something of an eye for strategy!"

"Y-yes, well I have a long way to go." Noire blushes, staring down at the ground. I get the distinct impression that Virion's strategy games aren't what she was referring to. Geez, the kid nearly outed herself just now. Maybe Lucina's right to be pissed about her tagging along with us.

On the other hand, Lucina just swatted my daughter across the arena, so fuck her.

Wait.

My daughter.

"Aha!" I grin in anticipation as I realize the direction Robin is pushing Laurent in. "Oh, this is gonna be great!"

"Care to enlighten us?" Virion looks over curiously.

"Just wait!" I grin as Laurent steps closer towards Robin's target. "In three. Two. One."

Laurent takes a step too close to where Severa has been laying since she got sucker-punched, and the kid just blurs into motion. Severa's arm snaps out, knocking Laurent's legs out from under him and sending him sprawling in an ungainly heap. She plucks his tome out of the air as he falls, and swiftly cracks him over the head with it. Laurent hits the ground in a daze, and Robin and Severa take off like a shot.

The mage, being further away from Chrom's hectic melee, sees them coming first. He fires a bolt of lightning at Chrom in a last-ditch effort to bring the man down, and watches in disappointment as Chrom weaves out of the way, though he takes a kick to the leg by Kjelle as he does so. The spell having failed, the mage is forced to engage with Robin, preventing the tactician from shooting down Chrom's enemies.

This does nothing to stop Severa though, who runs at Lucina, though her ambush is much less effective. The two clash in a flurry of blows that blur through the air so fast I can't even follow them, which leaves Chrom to fight Kjelle. This takes… approximately three seconds, as Chrom easily dodges around a powerful but slow thrust and hits the knight hard enough to dent her breastplate. Kjelle falls to the ground wheezing, clearly unable to fight anymore, and Chrom whirls back around.

As this happens, Robin manages to hook his opponent's leg with a tug of wind magic, closes the gap as the mage staggers, and draws his sword into a fluid swing that cuts across the man's torso.

Severa's furious duel with Marth comes to an abrupt halt as Chrom brings his sword to rest against Marth's ear.

Everything has gone silent. Even the eternally rowdy Feroxi audience seems to hold their breath. And slowly, with Chrom's Falchion resting against her neck, Marth raises her arms. She drops her blade, letting it clatter against the stone floor of the arena, and announces in a loud voice. "I yield!"

Then Severa punches her in the face, knocking her out on the spot.

The arena promptly explodes into absolute chaos, as the East and West Feroxi alike cheer for the spectacle they just witnessed. Several fist fights break out immediately amongst the audience, and Christoph immediately begins playing again over the absolute cacophony.

"She's almost as bad as you are!" Lissa proclaims to me with a grin, as we dodge around the rather… exuberant celebrations of Flavia's group.

"That figures." Noire sighs.

I can only nod along in response, grinning down at Severa as she argues with Chrom below.

"Atta girl."


Of the past twenty days spent working on this chapter nearly all of them were spent on the first half. Conveying a rock concert in writing is tough, even if that rock concert consists of only one instrument. Still, I've been waiting to write Ben singing "We Will Rock You" in Arena Ferox for ages now, so it was very satisfying. I can't remember a school sporting event throughout elementary that didn't end up with an auditorium full of kids singing it at the top of their lungs.

Let's fucking hear it for Freddie Mercury. And for Christoph, the First Rock Star of Ferox! His time in this story was brief, but his legacy will live on in Feroxi history forever.

Next time, Regna Ferox throws a party the only way Regna Ferox knows how, while Lucina throws... a fit.