The Alliance and Coalition armies arrived at the city of Bergliez.

Bergliez was a city known for its defensive fortifications—more by tribute of generations of paranoid generals than actually having to resist invasions. Or perhaps the reason it hadn't been attacked was by nature of that paranoia. The city wasn't worth the risk for the little strategic value it had.

That being said, the Alliance needed to take it out of the equation. Not only for their supply lines and dealing with the soldiers within, but for securing a place to hide. Everyone thought it—though seldom was it voiced—that if Arundel annihilated them, they'd need somewhere to regroup.

What made Bergliez so fortified was twofold. One, the high walls. A Minister of War seven generations back had embezzled money from the treasury, building the walls up with what was taken. The Emperor at the time had dealt with him, but the high walls remained.

And two, there was a single entrance in and out of the city. A nightmare commercially, but the city had adapted to make it work. That entrance was called the Immaculate Gate, named as if it were the very wings of the Goddess' holy servant protecting the city. Murder holes were aplenty, as well as various ballistae and catapults lining the walls around it.

Too high to cross, too fortified to break through. Such was their obstacle. But luckily, there was a plan.

And it was pretty stupid, if Yuri was anyone to judge.

"There's a small drainage point where the city's sewers spill out," Yuri explained to Claude. The Duke had his hands folded and focused intently on Yuri.

They'd been forced to set their camp up away from the city—lest they be bombarded by the armaments. If this were a traditional siege, they'd have to deal with it. But hopefully, that wouldn't be the case. Goddess help them if it was.

"My agents have explored it, to a degree," Yuri said. "There is an entrance that is near the Immaculate Gate within the city. If a team snuck through, we could destroy the gate from the inside."

"Destroy it from the inside?" Claude asked. "We'd need incredible firepower for that. I get that the gate is meant to keep people out and is therefore less reinforced on the inside—but this feels like a weak hope."

"Obviously," Yuri said, not correcting him. "Which is why we have to send our best. Not too many to attract attention, stealth is key. But enough that they can weaken things enough for Lorenz to push through with the vanguard."

"Magic?" Claude guessed.

"Naturally, though just magic itself isn't enough. There'll need to be a complimenting group of mages. Ones that, together, could rend that much metal."

"You have people in mind?"

"Some. We're going to need our absolute best for this. We can't afford to mess this up."

"Woo! Picked for the secret mission!"

"Aren't we supposed to be staying covert about this plan, Hilda?" Dorothea said with a smile. "Better yet, why are you celebrating? Or have we stopped pretending you still hate work?"

Hilda blanched. "Woah, let's not be so hasty. I am ever the delicate flower, liable to be smooshed by a stray boot. Protect me, my dear wife!"

Marianne, the third person on the team, just shook her head. "Admit it, Hils, you're happy to help."

"My own wife, betraying me," Hilda said through crocodile tears.

"Woe is you," Hapi, the final member, said, swinging an arm around the actress. "Someone clue me in as to why Belle hates work but doesn't?"

Marianne chuckled. "Our darling Hilda, here, hates having expectations on her. But she's also figured out she likes helping people too. Especially our little herd."

"Hey!" Hilda protested. "Maybe I just like spending time with my wife?"

"Wading through a sewer?" Dorothea reminded.

"Ah, fuck," Hilda muttered. "Alright, fine! So I want to help. There, I said it."

"Character growth," Dorothea teased. Hilda stuck out her tongue.

"Anyway," Hapi said, "we've got an hour before we need to head out. We got anything to discuss before getting ready?" Marianne and Dorothea shook their heads.

Hilda's eyes widened. "Oh, Dorothea! Do you know if Byleth likes men?"

Marianne and Dorothea exchanged glances. "Why would I know?" Dorothea asked.

"I dunno," Hilda answered. "We're just trying to figure out whether we can get Claude and Byleth together."

"We?" Marianne asked, amused.

"Me!" Hapi raised a hand. "Queen always is just so fucking sad, figured Claudester might cheer her up. Plus, according to Belle, he's into her."

"Marianne," Dorothea said without pretending to be discreet, her smile teasing. "Why haven't you stopped your wife from doing this?"

"It's entirely too amusing," Marianne admitted. "And I won't deny that if it makes Byleth happy, she could use it. She always was so focused on us at the academy. She could use something nice."

"Ha, encouragement." Hapi smirked. "But seriously, does no one know if Queen likes men?"

"Byleth would."

"Not helping, Do-re-mi."

"Try asking…Ig?" Dorothea suggested. "He might know?" She grimaced. "Mercie probably would."

Hapi nodded, thoughtfully. "Hilda, we have plenty of work to do after we take this city."

"But first," Dorothea interrupted Hilda's response, "we have a gate to destroy. We can worry about this later."

"But this is important!" Hilda insisted.

"Get ready first, then I'm sure there will be time to conspire along the way," Dorothea said with a roll of her eyes.

"Yes, Leader Woman!" She and Hapi departed, continuing their conversation, leaving Marianne and Dorothea in the middle of the camp.

"I like her," Marianne said.

"Who, your wife?"

Marianne giggled. "Hapi. She's…a lot. But I think it helps take Hilda's mind off everything."

"How do you mean?" Dorothea asked.

"Oh, Hilda worries a lot more than she lets on. She's not been sleeping well or anything for a while." Marianne sighed. "What happened to Holst just made it worse. So if this is some reprieve from the doom and gloom, I support it."

"I hadn't thought about it like that," Dorothea murmured, watching them vanish into the crowds of soldiers. "Admittedly I know nothing about Hapi, except that she is very protective of Byleth."

"Ah, already got to you?" Marianne chuckled. "Hilda and I figured she might. She's very protective. All bark, no bite. I think."

"Reassuring," Dorothea deadpanned. "But hey, how have you been? We haven't had a chance to talk since I got back."

Marianne smiled widely. "Really well, actually. Well, the war is a lot and I hate the fighting, but I do feel better being around everyone."

"You look a lot happier," Dorothea observed. "Nice to see someone thriving while so many are struggling."

She shuffled awkwardly. "Well, I don't know about thriving. But I am…content," she eventually settled on. "Our little family, I missed it more than I thought. And with these new faces, the more the merrier."

Dorothea nodded, approving. "I don't think Hilda's the only one that's changed since I last saw her."

"I guess I'm just happy to be here and alive," Marianne smiled.

Arms wrapped around her, the songstress embracing her. "We're glad you're here, Mari."

"I'm happy you're back," Marianne murmured. "I missed you and Mercie."

"Ig said we're having a reunion party after this, right?" Dorothea said, wicking away a single tear with subtlety. "Let's chat there, it's been too long."

Marianne nodded with a smile. That sounded nice.

Lysithea and Petra sat, side by side, as Caspar looked at them. He sighed, rubbing his eyes. "I'm going to get executed for this. What do you two want?"

They glanced at each other, Lysithea nodding at Petra to go first. "Bernadetta suggested I ask you for the report on what happened outside of Hrym."

Caspar blinked. "That's an odd request." He opened a drawer and thumbed through some papers. He pulled out a thin packet. "Here, it's a copy. Take it, favor to a friend."

Petra accepted it and fell quiet.

Lysithea breathed, the adrenalin of the night before still coursing through her. Hardly, but her mind could almost believe it.

Hubert, so close to her. She could have killed him. Why did she let Petra convince her out of it? He needed to be punished for letting Edelgard go astray. He was her advisor far before Lysithea joined the Eagles. He shared blame for where Fódlan was at politically.

Hanneman would call her line of thinking illogical. Hubert never exhibited agency to persuade Edelgard's objectives. He just enabled them. A sin, but not the instigator.

Her heart was heavy, knowing Edelgard was to blame. Of course she was, Lysithea had already puzzled it out. She'd had the conclusion in her heart and the drive to do what needed to be done.

But then she'd seen her. Tall, regal, beautiful. Lysithea had not been ready for the emotions that brought up. Where she had resolve, the image of her wife filled it. How was she to fight her?

Hubert, now that was an easier target. She could focus on Edelgard after. But Hubert had to die. He had to.

"—sithea?"

"Oh, pardon me," she said, looking back up at Caspar. His office, right. Edelgard and Hubert had left this morning. She and Petra were about to leave for Enbarr.

Stay focused, Lys.

"I come with…news," Lysithea began. "About Linhardt."

Caspar said nothing, folding his hands.

"The Church didn't kill him. Hubert did."

The scion of Bergliez continued his silence, closing his eyes. Lysithea took that as cue to continue. "He had stumbled upon information about the Agarthans, I think. About Monica. He learned too much, so Hubert killed him."

Caspar exhaled. "Who did you learn this from?"

"Leonie," Lysithea said, before immediately biting her tongue.

"You spoke to Leonie?" Caspar asked, surprised.

"I…"

"You've defected," Caspar realized, too smart for his own good. "And you've come here to kill Edelgard."

Petra stiffened next to her. Lysithea frowned. "I said nothing about killing her."

"So you don't deny it," he murmured.

"I just want to speak to her," she urged.

Caspar looked out the window and drummed his fingers on his desk. "Lysithea, out of the respect I had for you, I won't say anything. But you will leave Merceus within the hour, Petra with you. I won't tolerate treason here."

Lysithea stood. "You'd help those who killed Linhardt?"

His eyes shut. "I've made the choice to side with my father, Lysithea. I…the Church killed Lin."

"Bullshit!" she screamed, slamming a fist on the desk. "Look me in the eye and tell me that."

"You're much angrier than I remember," he murmured, meeting her gaze. "Lin is gone, Lysithea. Trust me, I knew him better than you. I mourned and moved on."

"How dare you," Lysithea growled. "How dare you spit on his memory and help his murderers."

"I believe in Edelgard's vision," Caspar said. "I believe in my father."

"I trusted you," Lysithea said, appalled. "I thought you were one of the few amongst us with sense. Someone who loved Lin, too."

"Don't you dare claim I don't care about Linhardt," Caspar growled. He sighed, and slumped back in his seat. "If I have to choose between the memory of a friend, and my still living father, then I've made my decision."

"I can't believe this," Lysithea spat.

"My father has picked his side. My side is at my father's, as a son's ought to be." Caspar closed his eyes. "Go, please. Let's just leave it at that."

Lysithea's words caught in her throat as Petra put a hand on her shoulder.

"Caspar," she said, "I understand it is a hard choice. You care about your father. But fighting for evil for good reasons is not the right way."

"Are we sure it's evil?" Caspar said, opening his eyes again.

Petra frowned and rolled up her sleeve, showing some of her scars. "Fine, then I suppose doing this to me was right?"

Caspar said nothing.

"Make a choice, Caspar," Petra said, softer. "Just make sure you pick one that you're able to sleep with." She turned and walked to the door, waiting for Lysithea.

Lysithea took one last look at him. "We're all making hard choices, Cas. That's just how life is."

"I'm well aware," he replied, quietly.

She and Petra left, pulling up their hoods, as they mixed with the crowds in Merceus.

Their destination, Enbarr.

Claude looked up and Tishtar snatched the apple from his hand while he was distracted. Clever wyvern, he chuckled to himself.

"Hey, Ignatz. You said you wanted to talk to me?" he called out, forgoing reprimanding Tishtar. He couldn't blame her, it was his fault he got distracted. And she was just too cute.

The source of that distraction, Ignatz, nodded. "Yeah, got a minute?"

"I've got two, at least," he said, scratching Tishtar behind her horns. She purred, loudly.

"I was wondering what your plan for Brigid is," Ignatz said, settling into a stool not far from them.

Claude's expression flickered with surprise. "Why do you ask?"

"I was thinking I should go there. Help out the rebels," Ignatz said. "Take Catherine with me, stir up some trouble. Get the Empire to pay more attention there to take some heat off you."

"Ignatz, we need you here," Claude said. "You're far too much of an asset to let go of."

He shook his head. "And we should just forget about the people of Brigid?"

"That's not what I said. We need you here to help the main front. If you go to Brigid, I don't deny you will get the heat pulled off us, at the cost of the rebels' lives." Claude sighed. "If the Empire focused on them, they'd get crushed."

Ignatz looked down. "Feels wrong, not helping."

"Is this about the people there, or her?" Claude asked carefully.

"Both," Ignatz said honestly. "It's what she would want, protecting innocent people. Her innocent people."

"If you want my advice," Claude said, "you'd do more good for everyone here than out there. You're the best archer we have, not to mention you've got a strong tactical mind. We can't lose that."

Ignatz retreated into himself in thought while Claude cast his mind to Petra. Where was she? Neither he nor Yuri had heard anything of her since she'd tried to kill him.

If they could win her to their side, it'd certainly help. In truth, Claude had zero expectations for the people of Brigid without their Queen to rally them. If Petra were there, it'd be a different story. But without her, they were rebels without a leader. A minor thorn in the side of the Empire.

"You have a point," Ignatz admitted. "I just want to do more. I want to help her."

Claude walked around Tishtar and to his friend, crouching by him. "You want to know how you can help her? Live. Protect Catherine and Shamir, and yourself. Between the three of you, I'm sure you could convince her to come to our side."

"You really think so?" Ignatz asked.

"I know so," he said, believing it. "She needs help, and we'll need you to help her. I tried to reason with her with no success. But I think you can succeed where I failed."

The artist was quiet, thinking.

"Thank you, Claude," Ignatz murmured. "For believing in me."

Claude smiled. "We depend on you a lot, Ignatz. Don't forget it."

Ignatz mirrored Claude. "I won't."

His place should be in the thick of battle. Seteth sighed, resigning himself to taking a walk around the camp to keep himself busy.

In this moment, he felt more Seteth than ever before. As the war had begun, the strength of Saint Cichol had come back to him, a fervor that he hadn't felt in centuries. It had felt good to give himself such pure, physical purpose.

But now, here he was, relegated to the sidelines. He envied Ignatz, in a way. The man had triumphed over his injury, being able to go about his life without much inconvenience.

But he, Seteth, couldn't replace a missing arm. Not even mages from Morfis could do such wonders.

Seteth missed hugging his daughter with both arms. Cichol missed holding a lance. Father and warrior, both left listless, wanting. And without Rhea, what purpose did he have?

Oh, sure, Archbishop had many duties. But it felt wrong to stand where she stood. She'd been an incredible woman, one he'd been willing to give his life and all for.

He hoped she was still alive, somewhere. Though he knew that hope was false. Rhea had to be dead. The way Byleth talked about her was a clear giveaway. She tried to hide it, maybe for his sake, but he'd been alive for a millennia. The only people who could lie to him anymore were Rhea, Indech, and Macuil.

Goddess, he didn't have anyone anymore, did he? Just he and Flayn.

He, Seteth, once Saint Cichol, was lonely. Rhea, gone. He'd visited the other two in the five years. Indech had been perfectly content to talk the days away, though he'd refused to leave the lake. He'd granted Seteth the Inexhaustible to give to whom he chose.

Macuil had been…angry. Seteth hadn't stayed long to talk to his old friend after convincing him to give him Begalta.

He'd found the Sword and Shield of Seiros, but hadn't decided who to give them to yet, same for Indech's bow. And his lance.

That wasn't true. His lance would go to Ferdinand, when they next saw each other. The Inexhaustible to Shamir. That just left the Sword and Shield…

"Archbishop?"

He turned his head, tumbling back to reality from his thoughts. "Pardon me, did you need something?"

It was the redhaired merchant. Anna. She scratched her head. "Not really. Your sister is in here with me, thought maybe you were looking for her."

Sister. That ruse felt needless, now. But maybe there was merit to it, still. "I wasn't, but perhaps that's who the Goddess wants me to see now. Will you take me to her?"

Anna pointed a thumb at the tent behind her. "She's just in here, helping me. If you got a minute between Archbishoply duties, I could use another h—" She cut herself off.

His lips curled ruefully. "Don't mince words on my account."

She cleared her throat. "Pardon, I could use another helper budgeting some numbers. Flayn's great for moving stuff, but I'm swamped with ledgers."

"So this is where she's been the past few days," he said. "Sure. I need something to distract me."

"Ugh, we have to go in there?" Hilda grimaced.

"Seconded," Hapi groaned.

Dorothea chuckled. "At least there's a ledge to walk on," she said, pointing to the thin strip of stone along the edge of the sewer tunnel.

"I have a feeling Hilda is the only one short enough for that," Marianne murmured. "At least our disguises have pants."

The four were all dressed in simple tunics and pants without any frill or fancy. All the better to sneak around once they got into the city.

"Alright, ladies," Dorothea said. "Ready to jump in?"

"Gross," Hapi muttered.

"Yay," Hilda chorused. She hefted Freikugel and glanced at it. "Think my ancestors will roll in their graves if I drop this in? Wait, maybe I should, just to see Holst's face when he wakes up."

The others laughed and Marianne made sure Blutgang was secured to her back on instinct.

"Let's away," Marianne said. "The rest are counting on us."

The forced levity dissipated and the quartet made their way into the sewer system.

Author Notes: In regards to Caspar, I don't expect how he reacted to be necessarily well received by readers. Just like in part 1 when Ferdinand tried to take on Hubert, I'm not going to pretend these characters make rational decisions. Is this a good decision? I dunno. Well, I do know cuz I know what's coming, but it's your prerogative to judge him. Whatever you think, it's a valid reaction.

Editing Notes:
2/15/2022: Minor grammatical adjustments.