Holy War

by Griff4823

The sequel to "A Dragon in Shining Armour". The Royal Knights secured victory, and peace set over the continent, but it isn't to last. The autocratic Metal Empire, a team of amoral mercenaries, and a mysterious Digimon in the shadows; it's up to the Order of the Royal Knights to intervene. Can they stop things from spiralling out of control, all while dealing with their own issues?

104. Chapter 73 Part 1: Ruin

(Author's Notes: Hey, everyone! Chapter 73 is here. It's divided into two parts, with the second part likely being posted next Sunday. We start to deal with the aftermath of the two battles here.

C/W for later on in the chapter for some mild psychological torture and the threat of physical torture. It's not anything too extreme or intense, but I just wanted to err on the side of caution, knowing everyone has different levels of tolerance and experiences.

Apart from that, I hope you all enjoy! I'd love to know what you think.)

---

Chapter 73: Ruin (Part I)

Cold. Bitter cold.

It bit at his body like icy fangs that dug underneath every, individual scale. His sore muscles trembled and his toes and fingers were numb beneath his talons. He had to shoulder the ice-cold Ambrosius and rest its vamplate against his wrist just to keep from dropping the heavy weapon.

Examon flapped his aching wings with increasing difficulty. Not only did they hurt from the coagulated holes that punctured through the wings' scales, but the chrome digizoid plating that coated his wings, chest and tail was bitingly cold to the touch. His horns and claws were frigid, and his body began to suffer from a pervasive chill that felt like it reached all the way to his bones.

He was used to the alpine cold and the low oxygen from his years of ascetic training in the Dragon Mountains, but Examon was beginning to admit to himself that he was unsuited for extended activity in the Cathode Tundra. Even with his ample concentration of data insulating him, the deep cold was beginning to get to him. He wished he had the forethought to dress appropriately, even if it may have gotten in the way of combat.

His wounds stung almost as badly as the frost. Although he and Sleipmon had both received healing from the angels, they were only quick, rudimentary spells – just enough to stop the bleeding.

Examon sighed out foggy breath and continued to fly south. By his estimation, it would be about another half hour or so until they were out of the Cathode Tundra and in a more temperate climate.

However… it was not just the frigid temperature that was bothering him.

He felt a stone in his stomach. The heavy burden of failure.

He had failed his mission. He had failed to defend the Arcane Ruins from the Demon Lords. While Examon didn't know exactly what was inside of those ruins, he knew that it was important enough for both Sleipmon and Alphamon to worry, and it was important enough for Lucemon, Bagramon, and Lilithmon to go out of their way to capture them. That alone was enough to make him feel sick at the thought of failure.

But there was something else bothering him… It wasn't just frustration at himself for not completing his objectives. It was… something a little more raw.

Examon looked ahead of him. Flying through the air in front of him was Sleipmon.

Sleipmon moved through the sky at a soft canter – a mere fraction of the speeds that he was capable of. It was sluggish enough that Examon actually had to slow down so that he didn't leave the equine knight behind. Sleipmon's legs were crusted with black, icy blood. At first, Examon thought that his leg wounds might be the reason that he was lagging. They had both taken a beating during that battle, after all…

However, when Examon flew closer to him, he was dispelled of his theory. When he looked at Sleipmon's face, he didn't see anger or frustration at the failure… only unadulterated sorrow. Sleipmon's brows were sunken and his eyes were bloodshot and puffy. Even Examon could see the devastation on his bereft face.

The anguish and hopelessness… In the several years he had known him, he had never seen Sleipmon look like that before. It shocked him.

In that moment, Examon felt something other than frustration within him… He felt a painful stirring in his heart, not for himself, but for Sleipmon. He felt sympathy…

He watched Sleipmon flying ahead of him. Examon had the feeling that he wanted to be alone, were it not for the fact that he had to carry Vikemon. Vikemon sat on Sleipmon's back, gently rubbing his shoulder in a fruitless attempt to help him feel better.

Examon stared at his friend with a gentle, pained expression. He knew in an theoretical sense that Sleipmon and Cherubimon had been close, but he never really grasped how close they must have been. At least… not until now. Now, he could clearly see. It was right in front of him – painted across Sleipmon's face. The loss that he felt was no longer an abstract concept, but one he could tangibly see and feel.

To him, Cherubimon had only ever been a hypothetical ally – something that could help them in their campaign. And then, more recently, he had only ever been a present threat and an enemy. Examon had never viewed him as anything other than that. In that battle, he was a danger and an obstacle to overcome. It was just easier to view him that way, and he hadn't been able to understand why Sleipmon couldn't see him that way too. It had been simple: if they were to complete their objective, they would have to stop Cherubimon.

The dried tears and the flakes of ice on Sleipmon's face made him realise that Cherubimon was more than that to him - much more. Examon felt foolish now for not realising. Cherubimon was Sleipmon's dear friend. Just like how Dorbickmon was to him. And yet he…

Examon looked down at his hand, his claws clutching the hilt of the Ambrosius. He grimaced guiltily. After a few moments of hesitation, Examon increased his speed and flew up beside the pair.

Turning to look at the Royal Knight, the despair was clear on Sleipmon's face. Gone was the hopeful warmth in his eyes that the caring knight was so known for. Examon could only see subdued grief, like a flower wilting in the bitter cold.

"I'm sorry, buddy…" Vikemon apologised from Sleipmon's back. "Maybe if I was strong enough to fight them off…"

Sleipmon shook his head softly. "It… isn't your fault, Vikemon…" he gently told him, his voice uneven and reticent. "I wasn't able to save him… I wasn't even able to protect the ruins that I was tasked with defending. It was my responsibility."

"You did everything you could, Sleip," Vikemon assured him, gripping his shoulder and thumbing his back.

"…Sleipmon…" Examon spoke up, tentatively approaching from the side. He looked down, his remorse in reflecting his uncertain green eyes. "I'm… sorry."

Sleipmon turned his head towards the dragon and forced a small, sad smile. "Examon… I… Thank you."

Examon had trouble looking him in the eyes. He could feel his friend's pain from his words alone. He wished he could try to make him feel better, but… he felt like a hypocrite.

Throughout the battle, Examon had continuously advocated for fighting Cherubimon to the end. He challenged Sleipmon over and over about his refusal to fight Cherubimon seriously. Not only that… He had been fully prepared to kill Cherubimon himself.

He had been seconds away from pulling the trigger. Had Seraphimon not stepped in when he did… Examon knew that he was the one who would have done it. He would have been the reason why Sleipmon was in so much pain.

He had rationalized his actions in the moment, and he still felt like he had justifications in what he had been about to do… but seeing the sorrow and loss that Sleipmon felt had him questioning himself. Sleipmon had lost a dear friend… and Examon had been so quick to push for that outcome.

Examon grimaced faintly, his eyes trailing towards the snowy ground. It wasn't as if he had never felt that pain before. Maybe he just forced himself to forget. He remembered how he felt back when he grievously hurt Strikedramon. Seeing his friend's smouldering body lying in the path of destruction that he created… believing that he had killed him… He remembered how his heart felt like it was splitting in two – how he wanted to do nothing more than run away and curl into a ball and cry.

Yet, when it came to deleting other Digimon… other peoples' loved ones, he had no qualms about doing so. Was it that he could only pull the trigger because he didn't know Cherubimon personally? Was he really that much of a hypocrite? Was it that he just disconnected his emotions so completely during combat? Examon wondered how it was that he could be so detached about it, now understanding how much the grief affected his friend…

How many others was he hurting? And was it worth it? Were they necessary sacrifices in service of his goal of making the Digital World a peaceful place? Or was Sleipmon right about him? Was it merely self-serving expedience?

Examon wasn't sure anymore… Was he doing the right thing…?

"What is it that you are using your strength for?" a familiar voice echoed in his head.

"I'm not sure…" Examon responded, closing his eyes. For the longest time, he thought he knew. He always had a clear goal and a certainty of mind. It was only when he first joined the Order and that other time long ago that he had doubts. But, lately… he found himself doubting himself more and more. Ever since returning to Dragon's Peak…

He wanted to ask Sleipmon. He wanted to ask him if he regretted joining the Royal Knights and leaving the Arcane Ruins behind, now knowing how it would turn out. But… then he realised how immensely insensitive and selfish that would be. He realised he had no right to ask Sleipmon anything right now… especially not that.

"Sleipmon…" Examon tentatively spoke up. He nervously looked at the horse knight with guilty eyes. "I… just want to say…"

Sleipmon shook his head softly, his violet mane blustering in the wind. "…You don't have to say anything, Examon," he assured him somberly. "You… You were right…"

Examon blinked and stared at Sleipmon with confusion. "…What…?"

"You were right about me. Everything I do not to kill Digimon during combat… I am self-serving," Sleipmon admitted, his violet eyes creasing bitterly. "…Maybe the only thing I really care about is my own conscience… I'm so self-absorbed that I care more about how I feel about myself than I do about the Digimon I'm supposedly trying to protect…"

Examon winced, suddenly very ashamed at the thought that his words might have caused Sleipmon to feel this way. "Sleipmon… I didn't mean that. I was just frustrated."

"It is the truth, though," Sleipmon answered ruefully. His face tightened with guilt and melancholy. "I couldn't kill Cherubimon… Even when he asked me to. Even when he begged me to end his suffering – to prevent him from hurting his friends… All I could think about was myself – about how I would feel after I pulled the trigger. I didn't think about what Cherubimon must have been feeling… I didn't consider how he felt at all."

Sleipmon's tight eyes shimmered in the cold morning light. "How could somebody who's so weak and self-centered call himself a Royal Knight?"

Examon cold, chapped lips tightened, as did his hands around his lance. His heart ached with sympathy, and his chest felt laden with guilt. Some time ago, he would have preferred to see Sleipmon come over to his point of view, but now… it pained him to see his friend questioning himself so reproachfully.

"You're being too hard on yourself, Sleipmon," Vikemon tried to encourage him. "What he asked you to do was an impossible request. Anybody would have had second thoughts."

"Seraphimon didn't. He was his best friend," Sleipmon quickly responded. He turned and looked at Sleipmon. "Would you have, Examon? The whole time, you knew what needed to be done. I didn't listen to you."

Examon grimaced and averted his gaze. "I… don't know," he hesitantly replied. "Perhaps…" He glanced down. "But he was your friend. I have never been in a situation where I have had to make that decision, so I couldn't possibly understand what it's like. Because of that… I pressured you. I'm… sorry for being so inconsiderate."

"You only told me what I needed to hear," Sleipmon bleakly replied. "I probably would have died were it not for you and the angels. I could have gotten you killed… Me and my hubris."

"Please, Sleipmon, don't blame yourself. It is unproductive," Examon insisted, automatically trying to channel his unsettled feelings into rationalization. "Maybe we should use this time to think about what to do next."

"What can we do?" Sleipmon questioned. "I failed. Lucemon captured the Arcane Ruins. All of those secrets that Vikemon and I have spent decades protecting… they are in his hands now. We cannot retake them right now, and by the time that we are able to, the damage will have already been done. Even that glacier won't last a day against the Breakdramon's drills."

Examon winced faintly. He cursed himself for not disabling the Breakdramon, but he had become distracted. Or perhaps... his emotions got in the way. He wondered if he was weak as well.

"We should travel south west and link up with the main force north of Saversburg," Examon swiftly suggested. "Hopefully Duftmon and the others were able to defeat Barbamon and push them back to the Gloaming Fields. Maybe if they are on the retreat, the whole force could advance north to the Arcane Ruins."

"There is no way that a force as big as ours could move quickly enough all that way through the rough terrain of the tundra," Sleipmon pessimistically reasoned. "I appreciate what you're trying to do, but… let's face it, Examon. The Arcane Ruins are lost to us."

Sleipmon glanced down at the ground, watching as the patches of snow turned into wet, grassy fields. His hard expression softened as he watched the sunlight sparkle within the pools of melted snow in the grass.

"We'll head to Saversburg to meet Duftmon and the others… I need to explain to them what happened," Sleipmon distantly responded.

"…Affirmative," Examon said with a slight nod. After a moment, he looked back at the despondent knight with some concern in his eyes. "Is there anything that I can do?"

Sleipmon turned his head away, gazing off into the distance. "…No… Thank you," was his subdued response. "I'd just like to be alone with my thoughts for awhile…"

Examon nodded understandingly and glanced over at Vikemon, who shrugged back at him. "Alright. I can carry Vikemon for awhile."

"If you're sure you can carry me. Your wings look pretty hurt and I'm a pretty big guy," Vikemon responded hesitantly.

"They are pretty robust. I suspect that I can manage your weight," Examon explained, flying underneath Sleipmon to allow Vikemon to jump onto his back.

"Okay… If you're sure," Vikemon responded, scooting the edge of Sleipmon's back in preparation to jump. "Here I come!"

Vikemon jumped off and plummeted right onto the larger Digimon's back.

When Examon felt the heavy weight of the Viking mammal suddenly impact his back, he dipped and let out a short grunt of pain and effort. The Caledfwlch strained and corrected in response to the added mass, and soon stabilized. Then, he slowed down to allow Sleipmon some space.

Examon watched the grieving knight fly ahead of them. The pang of sympathy scratched at his heart. It was an uncomfortable feeling that he wasn't used to.

He wished there was something that he could do for him. He wished that he had tried to do things differently…

Examon sighed and flapped his bloody wings as they flew out of the bitter cold of the tundra, trying to make it back towards the spring warmth located further south. Still, with the weight of what happened and the loss of the ruins, he felt that this chill would persist for some time…

He had things he needed to think about too…

---

The sound of stone scraping against stone echoed throughout a long, descending tunnel. Shards of glacial ice and icicles fell to the ground and shattered.

There was a massive, groaning creak of rock, followed by a blast of air. A pair of huge, stone doors opened up, allowing snow and light to filter into a dark cavern.

Lucemon and Bagramon stood at the entrance of the Arcane Ruins, their dark silhouettes standing triumphant as they gazed down the long, yawning tunnel. The released air from with blew past them, causing their long hair to bluster.

Behind them, the Breakdramon engineer backed off, allowing his drills to wind down with a mechanical whirr. The Kowloon mercenary reversed carefully, allowing his two bosses enough space to approach the ruins.

Behind them, the rest of the Nightmare Soldiers were recovering after the hard-fought battle. Despite the legion's losses, they were victorious in their battle against the Choir and the Royal Knights, so their morale was high.

Lucemon smirked as he gazed down the entrance shaft, into the ancient, abyssal cavern. He had weathered the frigid cold of the tundra and the assault by their enemies… but it was all worth it for this.

"Shall we?" Bagramon questioned, glancing over at the Demon Lord of Pride.

"After you," Lucemon offered with seeming benevolence. "You scoured the texts to find this place. It is only natural that I permit you to take the first step."

Bagramon stared into the darkness with a pensive, enigmatic expression. His hollow eye began to glow ruby red, and he tentatively took the first step into the mouth of the cavern. He passed the holy threshold, fully intending to break the taboo and trespass the sacred place.

With a detached smile, Lucemon watched as Bagramon made the first step into the ruins. As soon as the first, invasive step was taken, he immediately followed, walking up beside Bagramon as they infiltrated the forbidden ruins.

Bagramon continued on, unimpeded. He made his way down the descending tunnel, through the damp and stuffy cave air. Although his face remained calm and stoic, Bagramon's heart skipped with excitement. He was at the precipice of boundless knowledge. Not only did that stir the academic within him, but he also knew that, with this victory, he would be a step closer to his goal. For the knowledge that is said to be contained within these ruins would change everything.

Lucemon smiled and walked along side Bagramon down the long tunnel. "So… Where is it that we are going, precisely?" he wondered. "What did the Codex say?"

"It said that the knowledge of everything that happened in the Digital World is hidden within the Archives," Bagramon explained. "That is where we are heading."

At this revelation, Lucemon stopped for a moment. "You don't mean… the Akashic Records?" he inquired, fully intrigued.

Bagramon glanced back at him over his shoulder. "The Yggdrasil Codex never explicitly used those words… however, I believe this to be the case. Those mythic records that date back to the ancient Digital World. Everything that we need is in there."

"If they truly are the Akashic Records…" Lucemon smirked with dark excitement and strode down the steps beside Bagramon. "Hm. Excellent…"

The two subversive demons made their way to the bottom of the tunnel, which opened up into a vast, open chamber divided by a huge chasm which a frozen river emptied into from above. Spanning the abyss was a rainbow bridge – the only way to cross by foot.

Bagramon and Lucemon walked ahead, approaching the ethereal bridge. The rainbow arch was translucent, giving the impression that it might not be able to hold one's weight. Bagramon assumed that, despite this deception, it was crossable. However, as soon as the two demons approached the foot of the bridge, the rainbow vanished completely, leaving only an expansive chasm between them and the passageway on the opposite side.

"It vanished," Lucemon noted, though wholly unconcerned by the impediment. He expanded his half-angelic, half-demonic wings in preparation for flight. "No matter. We will just have to fly across."

"Hmm… It seems as though we are unwelcome here," Bagramon deduced from the bridge's disappearance. "We may have to prepare for further obstacles. Even through its limited presence, I assume that Yggdrasil's roots and vines stretch all the way here as well. It will not want us accessing the archives."

"Yggdrasil…" Lucemon mused. He eyed Bagramon with his cold and calculating blue eyes. "So, you believe that there is something to the heathens' beliefs, as well… That Yggdrasil is not just an archaic interpretation of God, contrary to what the Choir believes."

"I do not 'believe'…" Bagramon looked down at his artificial, wooden arm, hewn from the flesh of the World Tree. He could feel it tingling through his nerves. It was reacting to this place. "I know it to be true."

"If that is true… it is merely another false god who is in our way," Lucemon disdainfully dismissed. "Something to be crushed, and its pawn knights along with it."

Bagramon meditated on Lucemon's words for a moment, before stepping forward to the point where the rainbow bridge used to be. He reached out with his Astral Snatcher, grasping at the place where the bridge should be. As soon as his bony, wooden fingers grew near, a section of the bridge reappeared, glowing with warm, rainbow light underneath his palm.

Bagramon frowned curiously and placed his hand on the portion of the bridge. He could feel solid ground. However, when he tentatively placed his organic foot over the edge of the cliff, where the bridge should be, he could feel nothing but empty air.

"It is reacting to your arm," Lucemon observed as he flapped his wings and took to the air. "Most curious."

"It is just as it happened with the Yggdrasil Codex," Bagramon answered. "Like reacts to like… Although Yggdrasil wishes to obstruct us at every turn, this place cannot deny Yggdrasil's own flesh. This arm will be our key to the Archives."

Lucemon smirked and began flying across the chasm to the other side. "Is that so? In that case, I am counting on you, Bagramon."

Smiling slightly, Bagramon spread his own dualistic wings and began flying across the chasm after Lucemon.

"You cannot stop us, Yggdrasil. Not when I am this close," Bagramon quietly challenged the god as he spanned the darkness.

"You cannot hide the truth from the world any longer."

---

It was a grey and misty morning.

Dew caressed the blades of grass that flourished across the fields and hills. The gentle roar of water could be heard. The torrent pouring down from the distant Sky Waterfalls was but a calming rumble. The view would have been peaceful and ambient, were it not for the military encampment nearby.

The Royal Knights and the Order forces rested in their makeshift military camp just north of the Free City of Saversburg. Hundreds of tents had been erected with rotating patrols and sentries keeping vigil around the perimeter.

Though they were a professional army instilled with discipline, morale was still low after their retreat. The sudden awakening of Belphemon, and the subsequent capture of Magnamon and Craniamon had been a huge blow. To counteract this, Dynasmon, UlforceVeedramon, and RhodoKnightmon made their rounds around the camp, talking with their soldiers and keeping their spirits up. Captains Ouryumon and Knightmon did the same, making sure that everyone was seen to. They needed all of the soldiers to know that they weren't about to give up.

Meanwhile, at the northern outskirts of the camp, Duftmon was talking with General Tactimon of the Saversburg Army. Generals Tactimon and Blastmon, as well as Saversburg's leadership, had been informed of the Demon Lords' recent southern advance towards their city. In response, the Saversburg Army began moving up to bolster the Royal Knights' positions.

"Yet again, Saversburg is under threat," Tactimon mused with a sigh. The samurai tactician stood next to Duftmon, his hands folded behind his back. "The Metal Empire covets Saversburg. Shroud covets Saversburg. Now, the Demon Lords covet Saversburg…"

"That is hardly surprising; Saversburg is a strategic city, after all," Duftmon felt as though he had to inform him. "It is the economic focal point of the north of Eniac, and its trade roads connect the north to the south as well as the west to the east. As a Free City with but a modest army, of course everyone covets its wealth."

"I am aware. I merely lament that it makes my job challenging," Tactimon dryly replied, turning towards his peer. "I am grateful that you have come to our aid once again, but some forewarning would have been appreciated."

"Unfortunately, time was not a commodity that we had," Duftmon explained. He gazed out across the misty fields, and his eyes became soft and reflective. "Perhaps, if we had, the outcome may have been different."

Tactimon eyed Duftmon with quiet surprise. "…Hm? And on what grounds do you believe that to be the case? Do you base that assumption on sheer numbers at your disposal? It was a tactical withdrawal you made, rather than a rout, was it not?" he questioned, deftly probing deeper.

Duftmon sighed and rubbed his brow with his fingers, turning away from Tactimon slightly. "…It is nothing. I merely mean that, perhaps, a fresh tactical perspective may have been beneficial."

Tactimon stared at the leopard tactician with disbelief. Hearing him say, in not so many words, that he would have accepted somebody else's insight on the battlefield… It was enough for Tactimon to be at a loss for words.

"…Sometimes, things happen in battle that even the best strategists cannot predict," Tactimon assured him.

Duftmon frowned and his hand slid up to his scarf-covered hip. "I should have been able to predict that they would utilise Belphemon at some point – that there would have to be specific conditions in which he could be awakened," he responded, glancing away from Tactimon sheepishly. "…I should have anticipated that Craniamon and Magnamon may not act in the way that I intended them to. In hindsight, the signs were all there…"

"Anybody can be a clairvoyant in hindsight," Tactimon pointed out. "At the academy, you always said that it is pointless to fixate on what might have been, rather than what is."

At this reminder, Duftmon huffed and folded his arms, catching himself in his moment of doubt. "…Hmph. I am aware of that, Tactimon," he testily replied.

Tactimon released a single chuckle. "Good that you are. You had a point in some ways, even if that line of thinking had the risk of preventing self-reflection."

Duftmon cast an annoyed, sideways leer in Tactimon's direction. "…I suppose that the fundamental lesson from that uninvited recommendation is to learn from one's mistake, rather than to dwell on it."

"That is correct," Tactimon answered. He walked over to a nearby tree and picked up the Jutetsufujin-maru blade that was resting against it. "What do you intend to do now?"

Duftmon frowned and stared out into the mist that concealed the horizon. "…I intend to rectify the errors that have been made," he explained with cool resolve, thumbing the hilt of the Shoumetsu no Tsurugi that hung from his belt.

Tactimon began to walk back over to his fellow tactician. "And how do you intend to—"

"OY! TAC-CHAN!" a booming voice bellowed boisterously.

Tactimon's shoulders immediately tensed up and he hunched forwards with annoyance. His head slowly turned, almost creaking as he cast a withering glare over his shoulder.

He saw General Blastmon marching over in their direction, waving nonchalantly. He lumbered over, his heavy feet leaving deep impressions in the grass and his mace-like tail bobbing back and forth. His bulky, crystalline body stopped beside the annoyed general and he innocently placed his hand on Tactimon's shoulder. "The army's all in place like you wanted, Tac-chan."

Tactimon grabbed Blastmon's hand and twisted his finger, causing the much larger Digimon to holler and fall to his knee in agony. "How many times must I tell you, Blastmon? Do not call me that…" he warned him with narrow eyes.

"Gwah! Okay! Okay!" Blastmon quickly shouted. He let out sigh of relief when Tactimon released the pressure from his finger. He shook his sore hand and stood back up, recovering quickly. "So… Do you think the Demon Lords really retreated?"

Duftmon, who watched their antics with a blasé expression, turned back to the northern fields. "Yes. Our scouts have confirmed that they have pulled back all the way to Shroud, Magnamon and Craniamon along with them," he explained. "I predict that they will be using this time extract information from the captives, while also waiting for Lucemon's team to return."

"Do you anticipate that they will stay in Shroud?" Tactimon inquired.

"The bulk of their army likely will fortify south of the city. However, I would be surprised if they kept Magnamon and Craniamon there. There are too many leaks in a city as corrupt as Shroud. It would be far too risky to keep them there, especially when they have not had the proper time to instill loyalty in its population by force," Duftmon reasoned.

"So, they will likely bring the captives back to their headquarters in the Gloaming Fields while leaving the army behind to defend their gains," Tactimon confirmed with a nod.

"That is my deduction," Duftmon agreed. "Although it would be best to get more information." The earth-coloured Royal Knight turned his head and glanced back at the Royal Knights' camp, his sharp, green eyes scanning for somebody in particular.

"Pardon me. I must confer with the other Royal Knights and the Captains," Duftmon told Tactimon, starting to walk between him and Blastmon.

"Very well, Duftmon," Tactimon answered, eyeing the Royal Knight as he passed him. "Please keep us informed."

"I shall do so," Duftmon responded without turning around.

"Hm…" Tactimon murmured, thinking deeply to himself as he watched the blond-haired knight walk back to the encampment. He pensively mulled over the Royal Knight's words, and he stroked his metal chin in thought.

Barbamon poked his head over Tactimon's shoulder, interrupting the demon tactician's train of thought. "Tac-ch—" The sharp look he got immediately redirected his tongue and caused his body to freeze up. "—chiiiimon? Something on your mind?"

"…Nothing important, Commander," Tactimon responded, his yellow, monochrome eyes watching as Duftmon walked to the Royal Knights. "I am merely pondering whether even the most stubborn and supercilious Digimon is able to adapt…"

"…Eh?" Blastmon asked, arching his brow quizzically. "Do you mean me?"

Tactimon sighed with exasperation and shook his head in response. "No… Return to the troops, General," he advised him.

As Blastmon shrugged and walked off, Tactimon made to follow after him.

"…Hm. Perhaps I was correct about him…" Tactimon thought to himself. He glanced at the knight for a moment before nodding contently to himself, following after Blastmon.

---

Meanwhile, back in the camp, the Order soldiers were beginning to organise after their rest.

Paildramon walked between the tents of the Aerial Strike Forces, doing her rounds and making sure that everybody under her command was up and prepared for the day.

The battle had been difficult. They had been fortunate in that they hadn't suffered any losses. They only really sustained a dozen or so injuries, having only directly engaged the waves of Troopmon and Beelzebumon's hit-and-run tactics. However, the defeat and capture of two of the Royal Knights caused worry that ran deeper than flesh wounds.

Paildramon knew that it was her job as over-sergeant to help Leftenant HippoGriffomon dispel those worries. She focused on her responsibilities, trying to cast aside the uncertainty that she felt in her own heart.

She walked down the row of tents, talking to a few of the soldiers to make sure that they were doing alright and that they were getting ready. After speaking with them, she looked ahead of her, and her eyes were drawn to a striking, yellow form that was standing outside one of the tents. She saw that it was TigerVespamon, who was brushing his teeth and mandibles with a mint, rock salt and root extract mixture.

Paildramon frowned a little and began walking over to him. She had only caught sight of him a few times during the battle, remembering seeing him delivering quick, crippling strikes to the waves of Troopmon. Reminded of her promise to GrandisKuwagamon to keep an eye on him, she decided she should see how he was. She was still a bit worried for him, knowing how fresh the death of Angemon was.

"TigerVespamon," Paildramon greeted, nodding at him amiably as she approached.

TigerVespamon quickly rinsed his mouth out with water and turned away to politely spit it back out into the cup he was holding. "Pardon me," he sheepishly apologised, wiping his mouth before turning back around and saluting. "Over-sergeant Paildramon."

"I'm sorry to interrupt," Paildramon said as she stopped beside him. "How are you doing?"

"I am alright, thank you," the hornet man responded. "I was just taking care of some dental hygiene."

"That's a good idea. I wish more of the other soldiers followed your example," Paildramon noted with a small smile. "Have you eaten your morning rations yet?"

TigerVespamon nodded. "I have just finished eating them," he explained, glancing over at a small box beside the tent that showed signs of once having food inside of it.

Paildramon glanced over at the box briefly. It was a relief to know that he had eaten on his own accord. "That's good… How are you feeling otherwise? Is there anything that you want to talk about? Regarding the battle or anything else?"

TigerVespamon paused and frowned slightly. "…Has there been any word of the status of Sir Magnamon and Sir Craniamon?" he wondered.

Paildramon looked down a little. "Nothing yet," she explained.

"I see…" TigerVespamon reached up and subconsciously readjusted the red scarf around his neck. "Sir Magnamon was very kind to me after…" He trailed off as he attempted to navigate around the raw memory. "…Will we be able to rescue them?"

"I hope so… I'm sure that we will, TigerVespamon. I am positive that the Royal Knights are thinking that very thing as we speak. They just need to figure out how best to do so," she assured him encouragingly.

TigerVespamon nodded. Then, he looked around at the other soldiers and the tents. "Is there anything that I should be doing right now?" he wondered.

"No, just be prepared to muster for roll call. Wait on standby until we receive our orders," she advised him.

"Understood," TigerVespamon confirmed.

Paildramon smiled a bit. "I'll leave you to it. I have to see to some of the slower-to-rise soldiers," she explained. "If you have any questions or anything at all that you want to talk about, I'm always available."

"Thank you, Paildramon," TigerVespamon replied, saluting formally. As she began to walk off, he turned and began to clear up his living space. As he did so, he looked across the camp, noticing the familiar, black silhouette of a beetle over there. Quietly, he wondered what he was doing there…

Paildramon walked away, leaving TigerVespamon to his own devices. She left him a little less concerned than she had been. It was clear to her that he was still understated, but at least he appeared to be taking care of himself, and she didn't think it was just for show. While she knew that trauma manifested in many different ways and that she would still need to keep an eye on him, this gave her a little bit of relief, at least for the moment. She would take any relief that she could get.

The draconic junior officer continued making her way down the camp. She tried to distract herself from the uneasiness that she felt. She had to be a beacon of calm and strength for the other soldiers, especially after that battle. Paildramon took a calming breath and pressed on, determined to do so for her subordinates' sake.

And then, a firm, authoritative voice called out to her. "Over-sergeant," the deep voice resonated from behind her.

Paildramon stopped in her tracks, recognizing the calm and stern voice instantly. That slight bit of unease tugged just a little bit harder. She turned around to see a white griffon standing behind her. It was Leftenant HippoGriffomon.

Paildramon straightened up and saluted her direct superior. "Sir," she answered.

HippoGriffomon raised his forepaw and nodded, allowing her to stand at ease. "Do you have a moment? I want to talk to you about something… privately," he ominously asked, gesturing with his head towards the edge of the camp.

"Er… of course, Sir," she hesitantly agreed.

She walked alongside HippoGriffomon, past the tents and over to the open field. When they were standing just far enough away from the tents, HippoGriffomon stopped and turned to her. "Over-sergeant, I want to talk to you about the latest battle."

Paildramon frowned curiously. She wondered if he was going to tell her that the formations had been too tight, as she thought that they might have been. "Yes, Sir?" she inquired.

The white griffon circled around, his wings tucking back and his talons pawing at the damp, dew-laden grass. He maintained firm eye contact, although his posture was loose and relatively informal. "I'd like to ask you… Why didn't you evolve to Imperialdramon during our last engagement?" he inquired, trying to seem as casual as possible.

Paildramon's shoulders stiffened imperceptibly, but she did not shy away from the Leftenant's question. "…I did not feel that it was necessary, Sir," she calmly explained, looking him in the eye.

HippoGriffomon arched his brow at her response. "I see. Would you mind explaining your reasoning?" he requested.

Paildramon nodded. "The way the battle unfolded, we were primarily fighting waves of Troopmon at a close range. They were fairly weak enemies, not worth expending much energy on," she methodically explained. "Moreover, sir, Imperialdramon: Dragon Mode is an incredibly powerful form."

Paildramon frowned and closed her fist lightly behind her back. "Its ranged attacks are incredibly destructive with a wide radii of effect. I would not have been able to effectively use those abilities safely without worrying about hitting our own soldiers."

"I see…" HippoGriffomon responded, gauging her carefully. "And… what about when the Troopmon were no longer a factor and we needed to lay down a heavy barrage on the enemy lines?"

"By that point, Sir Magnamon had already broken through the enemy lines to engage the Demon Lords," Paildramon answered without missing a beat. "I would have been unable to safely barrage the enemy positions without severely compromising his safety. That's why I felt it better to engage the enemy in my Paildramon form, where I have much finer control, sir," she explained resolutely.

"…Alright, I see your point, over-sergeant," HippoGriffomon conceded with a tiny smile. Despite the softening of his tone of voice, he still looked at her steadily. "Just as long as the reasoning was merely tactical."

Paildramon glanced away for just a moment. "It was, sir," she insisted.

"Good… because we will likely need your firepower in the near future," HippoGriffomon reminded her pointedly. "I'm counting on you, Paildramon. We can't afford to hold back right now."

Paildramon nodded slightly. "I know…" she answered, her voice a little more reserved than usual. "I will… when it is necessary."

HippoGriffomon nodded thoughtfully before turning away from her. He looked across the camp, where he saw the Royal Knights and the Captains meeting. "It looks like the Knights are planning something. I will confer with the Captain after and then let you know what's happening. For now, make sure that the Aerial Strikes are prepared to move out."

"Yes, Leftenant. I'll make sure everybody's ready," she agreed.

"Very well," HippoGriffomon said to her with a soft nod. "Dismissed."

Paildramon saluted the white griffon as he walked back into the encampment. When he was gone, she breathed a quiet sigh of relief. Trying hard not to think about his keen, incisive line of questioning, Paildramon walked back into the camp as well.

She made her way down one of the rows of tents. Paildramon did her rounds, making sure that none of the Aerial Strike Force solders were being overly lazy. As she surveyed the area, she noticed a few familiar figures walking towards her.

"Paildramon!" VictoryGreymon called out, jogging over and waving at her ardently. Sauntering beside him with a more apathetic gait was GrandisKuwagamon.

"VictoryGreymon?" Paildramon asked as the Ultimate level Greymon began jogging over. She watched as the dragon man nearly tripped over a mound of soil and staggered clumsily. She arched her brow, moving on from the regular occurrence, and turned her attention to the mercenary beside him. "…GrandisKuwagamon? What are you doing here?"

GrandisKuwagamon grinned and shrugged as VictoryGreymon managed to catch himself in his stumble. "Me? I'm here as part of the detachment of Rooks," he explained. "I was just hitting up some of my contacts in Shroud after the Demon Lords took over. I heard you guys took a licking, but you don't seem too roughed up, so it couldn't have been that bad."

"I appreciate your concern," Paildramon dryly responded.

"Over-sergeant! Paildramon!" VictoryGreymon called out, jogging over to her animatedly. He stopped in front of her and gazed at her with wide, worried eyes. "Do you know when we're going to move out to save Sir Magnamon and Sir Craniamon? We need to rescue them!" he avidly exclaimed with obvious worry in his voice.

"I'm afraid I know as much as you do, VictoryGreymon," Paildramon informed the worried dragon man regretfully.

"Uh oh. Then we're all in trouble," GrandisKuwagamon teased.

Paildramon shot GrandisKuwagamon a dry look before focusing back on the dragon warrior. "I think the Royal Knights are deciding what to do right now. I wouldn't worry, though; they would never abandon them."

After a moment, VictoryGreymon smiled sheepishly and rubbed the back of his thick neck. "Yeah, you're right… I know they're thinking about rescuing them right now. After all, it's part of the Royal Knights' code: Always help a Royal Knight in need!"

GrandisKuwagamon rolled his eye at VictoryGreymon's idealism. "Easier said than done. There's a whole demon army between us and them right now," he cynically reminded them.

"Well, yeah, but…" VictoryGreymon murmured, twiddling his fingers. "I'm sure they'll think of something! This is Duftmon after all. He's like a genius!"

"It must be nice to be so sickeningly optimistic all the time, Vic," GrandisKuwagamon said with a playful elbow. "Nothing ever gets you down, huh?"

"Optimists are a nice commodity, GrandisKuwagamon," Paildramon contended with a small smile. "Especially during times like these. Though, realistic expectations are important as well."

"Way more important," GrandisKuwagamon argued. "One of us needs to keep Victory grounded or else he'd be nothing but sunshine and rainbows all the time."

"…I like those things, though," VictoryGreymon sheepishly replied, twiddling with the end of his tail.

GrandisKuwagamon rolled his eye once again at the Greymon's uncomplicated innocence. The dragon man was nothing if not predictable. Still, he couldn't help but grin with resignation.

GrandisKuwagamon then began looking around the camp. He tried sorting through the Strike Forces as more of them became ready for the day. He scanned their ranks for the colour yellow…

"…Uh, hey, Paildramon, have you seen Ko— I mean, TigerVespamon around?" he wondered nonchalantly.

"Grandis is worried about him," VictoryGreymon innocently added, earning him an annoyed glare from the insect man beside him.

Paildramon smiled wryly. "Is he now…?" she lightly teased him. "I just spoke to him actually."

GrandisKuwagamon folded his arms and glanced away aloofly. "…Yeah? How's he doing?" he wondered, although trying to sound like he didn't care all that much.

"He seems fine, at least," Paildramon explained. "He is unharmed from the battle. Also, he is eating and cleaning, so he is at least taking care of himself. I haven't had the chance to talk to him for more than a minute, but those seem like encouraging signs."

"ShineGreymon has been with him a lot lately too," VictoryGreymon added with a smile. He placed his hand reassuringly on GrandisKuwagamon's shoulder. "He has friends around him. We'll make sure to look out for him while you're busy, Grandis."

GrandisKuwagamon exhaled and awkwardly scratched the back of his head. "Tch… I guess that's better than nothing…" he murmured.

Paildramon smiled a little at GrandisKuwagamon. It was clear to her from their last conversation that he was worried about his brother, but he didn't want to show it. She could understand his worries… She knew what it was like to worry about a sibling.

Before she could dwell on the ramifications of that point for too long, she noticed a dark figure walking towards them from behind GrandisKuwagamon.

Paildramon recognised the dragon man clad in black, rubber armour, knowing him to be one of the Rooks. "GrandisKuwagamon? I think you're wanted," she informed him, nodding at the Cyberdramon behind him.

"What's new?" GrandisKuwagamon asked, turning and glancing over his shoulder. "…Oh, it's just Grumpy."

"Hey, Grandis!" Cyberdramon called out, gesturing with his snout over to him. "Get over here! We need you! We got a mission briefing."

GrandisKuwagamon sighed. "Yeah, yeah!" he called back and clutched his heart insincerely. "It's so good to feel needed…" he dryly told the two dragons. "See you two around. Keep the meat head outta trouble, Paildramon."

"Who's the meat head?" VictoryGreymon wondered with an innocent smile.

Paildramon smiled a bit as he walked off. "You're the one that needs to stay out of trouble, GrandisKuwagamon," she reminded him.

GrandisKuwagamon gave a dismissive wave over his shoulder and walked off with Cyberdramon, towards where a few other Rooks were gathered by Karatenmon.

"Stay safe, Grandis!" VictoryGreymon called after him with a big, boisterous wave.

"You should get back to the others too, VictoryGreymon," Paildramon advised him. "If the Rooks are getting their orders, we may be getting ours soon too."

"Oh. Right!" VictoryGreymon exclaimed. "I'd better get going. I'll see you soon, Paildramon!"

Paildramon smiled as VictoryGreymon jogged off as well. His enthusiasm was refreshing. Nothing ever seemed to get him down for too long.

As he ran off, she made her way back through the camp as well. She had a job to make sure that her subordinates were all doing what they were supposed to be doing. For all she knew, they would be going into another battle soon. And if they did…

Paildramon closed her fist, trying not to think about the implications of HippoGriffomon's words. She didn't have to worry about it… Not yet, at least.

"You have it under control, Paildramon," she reminded herself, as she walked in the opposite direction of VictoryGreymon.

At least, she sincerely hoped that was true.

---

Not far off, Duftmon stood at the head of the camp. As the gentle, morning breeze blew through his blond locks of hair, he waited as the present Royal Knights and Captains gathered around.

With everybody now active and with reconnaissance and intelligence reports coming in, Duftmon decided that now was the time to proceed with the next course of action.

Dynasmon, RhodoKnightmon, and UlforceVeedramon walked over to him, followed by Ouryumon and Knightmon. Each of them carried their own, personal brand of resolve. Some were more obvious, like Dynasmon's and Ouryumon's loud, restless body language, others more subtle, such as RhodoKnightmon's quiet yet controlled gait.

Dynasmon marched right up to Duftmon, without an ounce of subtlety in his passionate gaze. "Duftmon!" he announced, stopping in front of the cool and dispassionate tactician. "What's the plan? You've thought of something, right?"

UlforceVeedramon strode up beside Dynasmon with an energetic and impatient energy. "Yeah. What are we going to do to rescue Magnamon and Craniamon?" he swiftly inquired.

"First things first," Duftmon calmly answered, holding himself with a controlled and lofty poise. He looked past the Royal Knights, focusing on the tall, golden serpent who landed behind them. "Captain Ouryumon, how is your injury?"

Ouryumon cocked his eyebrow with confusion that Duftmon would even be asking about it, not immediately knowing what he was talking about. He then glanced down at his bicep, which had a small bandage around it. "Huh? You mean this?" he asked, raising his arm. "This is nothin'. Beelzebumon just grazed me with his claws. It's not even worth thinking about."

"Even so, I have a job for you," Duftmon informed him. "I need you to return to Castle Avalion and inform Alphamon of the state of affairs here."

"What?!" Ouryumon protested indignantly. "You want me to leave the front lines to go on… messenger duty?! No fucking way, kitty cat! Send a scout – you know, whose job it is? I'm in charge of the Strike Forces!"

Duftmon sighed with irritation and curtly folded his arms. "Ouryumon, allow me to explain to you the current situation. Magnamon and Craniamon have gotten themselves captured. That problem must be resolved until we can comfortably take further action against the Demon Lords. We have completely lost our momentum here," he methodically explained with a hint of his typical condescension to his voice. "The Demon Lords have opted to retreat back to Shroud with their prisoners. By doing so, they have forfeited their own momentum. This means that we are at a temporary impasse in which neither side will take further action."

"Yeah? What's your point?" Ouryumon pressed.

"That means that they will use this time to consolidate their forces and likely attempt to make the most of their prisoners," Duftmon explained. "We must also use this time wisely. While we mount a rescue operation, we must also link up with the other Royal Knights and plan our next move. That is why I need you to go and meet with Alphamon. I must stay here with the Royal Knights, at least the very least while we carry out the rescue operation so that I can be on-hand to respond to unexpected developments. However, I require someone of sufficient rank to plan with Alphamon and the Royal Knights who are at the castle, at least until I am able to return myself."

Ouryumon folded his arms defensively, although he didn't necessarily refuse outright this time. "Uh huh… And it's gotta be me?" he reluctantly questioned.

"It could be either you or Captain Knightmon," Duftmon explained. "However, it had might as well be you, seeing as you are wounded. While you are there, it would be prudent to have your wound treated by Duskmon."

"I have no qualms either way," Captain Knightmon spoke up, looking over at Ouryumon. "However, it may be best for you to go, lest your wound become infected by that demon's vile claws."

"Duftmon has a point, Captain," RhodoKnightmon chimed in, patting Ouryumon's chest chummily. "Besides, aren't you missing our dear Alphamon?"

"Tch," Ouryumon grunted, turning his face away as his cheeks began to heat up at Rhodo's insinuation. "I-I don't know what you're talking about, Rhodo!" he insisted, folding his arms. Despite his fervent denial, however, something at the back of his mind came to the surface, and he felt his resistance weakening. He did want to see Alphamon… for one reason or another.

"…Fine, I'll go," the golden dragon grumpily conceded. "But what about the Strike Forces?"

"Your Leftenants can handle them, and Knightmon could step in if need be," Duftmon explained. "If you take the Locomon Rail Express from Saversburg to Gold Keep, you need only be gone for a couple of days."

"Fine, but I'll tell the Strike Forces myself," Ouryumon agreed, folding his arms. "So, when I get there, should I bring the others back or what?"

Duftmon brushed his fingers behind his ear, running them through his voluminous hair. "I shall leave that to your and Alphamon's best judgment when the time comes. Our next course of action depends on the success of our rescue operation, and I do not yet know the results of Team Frost's sortie, nor do I know the state of security of our headquarters or Yggdrasil's directives. I believe that it would be best to wait there for my further instructions once I have more information and can plan with more certainty."

"Vague, but fine. I guess I'll go since you asked so nicely, cat," Ouryumon sassily answered, although he did want to know how Alphamon and the others were doing.

"And while you are at it, you can take our prisoner back to the castle along with you," Duftmon added, gesturing dismissively over his shoulder.

"…Him?" Ouryumon asked, turning half his body around, looking over along with the other Royal Knights.

Sitting at the edge of camp, under the watchful guard of the Rooks, was a tied up Troopmon.

The Troopmon sat docilely in the grass, cross-legged and not moving a muscle. It had suffered damage to the tank on its back, which allowed it to be incapacitated during battle. Unable to function without being given commands or move from its spot on its own accord, the Troopmon just sat compliantly.

"Yes, that automaton," Duftmon explained, casting a disparaging look in the repurposed puppet's direction. "I somehow doubt that it will be of any consequence in potential hostage negotiations," he sarcastically added. "Ordinarily, I would simply terminate it, but it is a curious new weapon that should be studied. I believe that it would be more useful to keep alive. Bring it to High Physician Duskmon and see what he can learn from it. I am sure that he would be most interested in a new specimen to study."

"You're going to bring Gummy-kun on the train?" UlforceVeedramon wondered with a slight grin. "Are you going to have to buy an extra ticket or does he count as luggage?"

Duftmon released an exasperated sigh and rubbed his forehead. "UlforceVeedramon, did you just nickname our incognizant prisoner?"

Ouryumon rolled his eyes. "Fine. Whatever. I'll bring Gummy—that thing - with me, but, if he causes me any problems, he's going out the window," he impatiently explained. He turned away and began making his way over to the Rooks. "I'm goin' to Saversburg now while it's still early. Make sure to keep us in the loop, Duftmon!"

"Very well, Captain," Duftmon responded, eyeing the golden dragon as he flew off to collect the prisoner.

UlforceVeedramon turned back towards Duftmon. "So… you mentioned a rescue operation?" he asked eagerly. "Does that mean you thought of a plan?"

"Yeah, what are we gonna do?" Dynasmon impatiently pressed. "The longer we wait, the more danger they're in."

"I am aware. And, yes, I have," Duftmon confirmed. "Although, it is not a military operation, so the regular forces will not be needed."

Dynasmon frowned with confusion. "What? Then what are we doing?" he wondered.

"That's where I come in," a voice abruptly said from directly behind Dynasmon.

Dynasmon let out a startled shout and jumped as Karatenmon appeared in his shadow. "Gah! Karatenmon!" he shouted, his face red and flustered as Karatenmon stepped out from behind his wings. "Stop sneaking up on me!"

"Sorry. Didn't mean to startle you, Dynas," Karatenmon casually replied with an amused smile that suggested otherwise.

"Captain Karatenmon," Duftmon addressed him with a formal nod. "Have you assembled your team?"

Karatenmon nodded and gestured over his shoulder to five Rooks who were waiting nearby. "Cyberdramon, Black WereGarurumon, GrandisKuwagamon, Pipismon, and Baalmon. No more, no less."

"Very well. I trust that you have picked those who are best suited for the mission," Duftmon answered. He turned to the three Royal Knights next to him. "This is a mission where we cannot merely use brute force. We require stealth and cunning."

Karatenmon walked around the knights and stopped beside the leopard tactician. "My sources in Shroud, as well as those of my Rooks, have confirmed that Magnamon and Craniamon were taken through the city, but aren't being kept there. They're being taken north to the Gloaming Fields, we're assuming to Castle Nocturne."

"Which is why we require a professional team that is small enough to avoid detection," Duftmon explained. "They will need to infiltrate the core of the Demon Lords' holdings."

"Well, that certainly all makes sense," RhodoKnightmon agreed, placing his hands on his hips. "It is quite the risky operation, however."

"My Rooks can handle it," Karatenmon confidently assured them.

"Yeah, but what if they do get seen?" UlforceVeedramon posited. "I think I should go too. You'll need somebody who can hold their own against a Demon Lord in the worst case scenario. Plus, I'm probably the fastest one here. I can get in and out in a flash if I need to."

Duftmon frowned and glanced over at Karatenmon to see what he thought.

"I guess you have a point," Karatenmon debated, pensively scratching the black fluff of his chin. "But only one. And I'll ask that you listen to the Rooks' advice – covert infiltration is their expertise."

"I'll do whatever they say," UlforceVeedramon promised.

Duftmon pre-emptively cast a disparaging gaze in Dynasmon's direction. "And, no, you are not going," he succinctly informed him. "You are about as covert as a Bullmon in a porcelain boutique. And your physique just about fits the description too."

Dynasmon folded his arms huffily. "Tch… Fine," he grumpily responded, although he wasn't exactly able to deny Duftmon's assertions. "I'm counting on you to bring them back, Ulforce," he told the cobalt dragon knight beside him.

RhodoKnightmon nodded with agreement. "Yes, bring those darlings back to us safe and sound – and yourself as well," he added before looking at Duftmon. "And what of the rest of us?"

"I will confer with Tactimon, but what I would like is to advance our defensive line northwards, about halfway between Saversburg and Shroud. We will stop there and expand our defensive perimeter along with the Saversburg military. That should provoke their attention, if not a response. Then, we shall wait until we learn more," Duftmon explained definitely. "However, that would only be possible with Tactimon's cooperation."

"That sounds like an acceptable course of action, under the circumstances," RhodoKnightmon concurred. "Perhaps if we have an easy opportunity to take Shroud, we might consider that as well."

"Perhaps, but for now, we must focus on the immediate. We will remain here until further notice," Duftmon replied, turning to the crow ninja. "Captain, are the Rooks ready to commence the operation?"

"They will be in five minutes," Karatenmon answered. "Ulforce, I'll fill them in while you get ready. Meet them at the western edge of camp."

"Will do!" UlforceVeedramon replied excitedly, about to hurry off to get his V-Bracelets.

"Oh, and UlforceVeedramon?" Duftmon spoke up before he could leave. "Bring one of MetallifeKuwagamon's Long Range Audio Visual Communicator prototypes. I shall have mine on-hand so that you can relay your status. And try not to break it this time…"

"Oh, yeah. Sure, Duftmon," UlforceVeedramon sheepishly agreed before jogging off.

Duftmon sighed and brushed his long, flowing hair back. "Very well. RhodoKnightmon? Dynasmon? I will leave you, along with Captain Knightmon, to brief the troops. I must speak with Tactimon about planning our next steps."

"Very well. Come, Dynasmon, Knightmon, let us speak with our soldiers," RhodoKnightmon answered, already beginning to saunter off.

"Yeah, alright…" Dynasmon agreed, plodding off as well, though quietly disappointed that he wasn't involved in the rescue plan.

"Yes, Master LordKnightmon!" Knightmon formally addressed him, following after his master dutifully.

"Ah, ah! It's 'Rhodo', Captain~," RhodoKnightmon light-heartedly made sure to correct him.

As the Royal Knights split off, Karatenmon turned to Duftmon and shrugged. "Well, I'd better get the Rooks ready," he told the tactician.

"Very well…" Duftmon answered. After a moment, he turned and looked Karatenmon in the eye, his gaze cool and serious. "And Karatenmon… Ensure that you impart the seriousness of this operation. Rescuing the Royal Knights is of the utmost priority. Failure is not an option. Make sure that they know that… especially your latest foundling."

Karatenmon glanced over at GrandisKuwagamon, watching as the former mercenary stood with the other Rooks. "I'll make sure that they know," he agreed.

The spymaster nodded at Duftmon and walked off, striding over to the Rooks.

As the last of the officers left, Duftmon turned away and gazed into the distance. A wave of contemplation flashed across his face as he pondered what must be done.

"We cannot afford failure… Their wellbeing is paramount to our strategic objectives…" Duftmon quietly thought to himself. He gently closed his hand into a light fist. "…They must be okay."

---

The darkness of oblivion began to fade.

The first sensation that he felt when his consciousness returned was pain. Clear and immutable pain.

His whole body ached. The tight, numb discomfort that enveloped him felt like it permeated all of his muscles. He could tell, merely from being conscious, that his body was covered in bruises.

Magnamon's closed eyes tensed and tightened with anguish. His nostrils were clogged with the metallic scent of dried blood, forcing him to breathe haggardly through his mouth. His bare knees chafed uncomfortably against the cold, hard floor. Not only did his body ache, but he felt a deep, interior chill beneath his scales. He felt bare and exposed. A cold shiver crept down his body, further causing his muscles to ache.

As he became more aware of his current state, Magnamon realised something else: he wasn't lying down. He was kneeling and he was hunched forwards uncomfortably, but something was keeping him from collapsing to the ground. He felt a tight, cold, and solid pressure around parts of his body, straining against his limbs and digging into his scales slightly.

Magnamon groaned and slowly opened his eyes. He blinked away the haze of unconsciousness. The first thing that he noticed was that he was staring down at the stone floor. In the center of his vision was a metal base plate that was embedded in the rock floor. In the middle of the base plate was a ring bolt.

Magnamon then realised the reason why his neck felt so choked and heavy. Attached to the metal bolt was a thick chain that led from the floor and up to his neck. In a momentary panic, Magnamon tried to wrench forwards, but the tight hold of taut chains from behind him stopped him, choking him slightly. There was a thick, metal collar around his neck, with heavy chains locked securely to the floor both in front of him and behind him, keeping him stuck in a hunched, kneeling position that prevented him from getting any leverage.

His eyes widening with horror, Magnamon desperately tried to stand up and try and take the collar off, but he couldn't move. His arms were pulled taut behind his back, his wrists pinned together by heavy, chrome digizoid shackles, which was connected by a second chain to the base plate behind him. His ankles were similarly shackled together and connected to the same bolt by a third, much shorter chain that didn't give him enough slack to stand.

Magnamon looked around furiously. There were stone walls to his left, to his right, and behind him. Directly in front of him was a set of sturdy, metal, cage doors. To his dismay, Magnamon realised that he was locked in a dungeon cell.

"No…" he whispered. "This can't be happening…"

Magnamon desperately attempted to break the shackles that secured his limbs together, but they wouldn't crack. His struggling only resulted in the metal grinding and chafing against his scales. Grimacing bitterly, Magnamon stopped his struggle only when he looked up.

He looked through the vertical, cell bars and noticed a something reflective on the other side of the hallway, catching the glint of the nearby torchlight. As soon as he recognised the familiar silhouette, his aching stomach sunk.

It was his golden chrome digizoid armour, hanging on an armour rack. It had been stripped from his body while he was unconscious, leaving his blue and white scales almost completely exposed to the cool, dungeon air. To add insult to injury, his armour had been displayed tauntingly in front of his cell, just out of his reach on the other side of the corridor. Magnamon's teeth gnashed together as he stifled a grimace. He knew he needed his armour of Miracles to break free. Without it, he wasn't sure if he could.

Magnamon shut his eyes tightly, hanging his head forwards with momentary despair. He was alone, exposed, and vulnerable… He remembered that he had been fighting Belphemon, but then it all became of a blur of pain and desperation. He knew that he had lost… He had been defeated soundly. Now, he was at the Demon Lords' mercy.

He felt humiliated. To find himself being treated in such a disgraceful manner… It hurt his pride… though, he supposed that that was the Demon Lords' intentions. More than that… He felt a different aching in his heart. One that hurt just as much as his wounded pride, if not more…

Magnamon's body sunk as much as the restraints would allow. He winced, his cheeks flushing red with shame as he rested his chin on the heavy collar. He knew that there was only one person to blame for his predicament…

Magnamon shut his eyes tightly. However, before he could dwell on his situation, he heard the clattering of metal nearby. The Royal Knight froze and opened his eyes, steeling himself in case it was the Demon Lords.

He listened carefully… Rather than footsteps, it sounded like the noisy rattling of chains. It sounded like it was coming from the cell to the left of him. He raised his head, his ear twitching. He wasn't hearing things. He definitely heard the fervent and raucous clattering of chains coming from nearby, as if somebody was pulling on them furiously and incessantly.

"Hello? Who's there?!" Magnamon demanded suspiciously, wondering who else could be locked in the Demon Lords' dungeon.

As soon as he spoke, the clamouring of the chains suddenly stopped completely. There was no response from nearby. It was as if whoever it was was trying to pretend that they weren't there.

"I know you're there," Magnamon sharply announced, trying to summon what dignity and authority that he could in spite of his situation. "Reveal yourself!"

Again, there was a long and deafening silence. Despite the lack of a reply, the slow creaking of grinding chains undermined the intended silence.

The silence was tense and uncomfortable. Even if he was curious, Magnamon didn't really want to lower himself to speak any more, not wanting anybody else to know he was in peril. It was clear that the other Digimon didn't want to speak to him anyways, and he refused to beg.

Just as he was about to give up, Magnamon heard a soft sigh coming from the cell beside him, along with the slight jingle of chains.

"…Magnamon? Is that you?" a deep voice reluctantly asked.

Magnamon's eyes widened, recognizing the voice immediately. "…Craniamon?" he asked, suddenly feeling a flutter of hope in his heart. "…Please… tell me that you're not locked in here too."

Again, there was a deep, weighty silence as Craniamon chose not to answer.

Craniamon was stuck in a similar state to Magnamon. In the cell next to him, Craniamon was likewise fettered in chains and chrome digizoid restraints. Like Magnamon, he was forced into a kneeling position with a chained collar, his arms tightly shackled behind his back, and his ankles securely bound to the floor. He had similarly been stripped of his black digizoid armour, leaving him exposed in the dungeon cell.

Craniamon grimaced and bowed his head as much as his restraints would allow. He remained silent in response to Magnamon's question, unable to admit the embarrassing situation that he found himself in.

Although Craniamon didn't give an answer, his silence was all the answer that Magnamon needed. Magnamon winced and balled his hands together as his hope began to vanish. Although he felt disappointment, there was an ambivalent stirring in his heart that he tried not to address. "…At least tell me they didn't take your armour too," he beseeched him.

Craniamon scowled and glanced upwards, glaring at his violet suit of armour, which hung on a rack just outside of his cell, much like Magnamon's. It was as if they were mocking him, flaunting his cherished, black digizoid armour like a trophy, telling him that he would be able to get free if he could only reach it. It made his blood boil.

"…They took it off me," Craniamon reluctantly admitted, looking away with shame. "They're smart… If I had my black digizoid on me, I'd be able to break us out of here in seconds."

Magnamon winced with frustration. It felt like that was their only hope and it had been snatched away. He was certain that Craniamon had weapons or tools in his black digizoid armour that they could have used to break free. Likewise, if he had his gold digizoid armour, he could have easily blasted the chains and bars open.

"Damn it…" Magnamon murmured, glaring at the space in front of him where the cage door met the floor. "How could this have happened…?"

"What?" Craniamon asked, not quite hearing what Magnamon mumbled in the next cell over.

"…I don't understand," Magnamon mentioned with annoyance and frustration. "What happened? How did you get caught?" he asked, sounding a little more accusatorial than he intended.

Craniamon glanced away defensively, feeling his guard immediately coming up. "When I saw you get taken down, I went and tried to save you!" he stubbornly insisted. Craniamon scowled, not wanting to admit the real reason why he was there. He rationalized to himself that he wasn't exactly lying.

"Then I fought Belphemon, but…" He looked down and trailed off with a bitter silence.

Magnamon's eyes widened. In an instant, the anger he felt suddenly morphed into guilt. Magnamon grimaced and bowed his head, looking down at the stone floor. "So… it's my fault you're here…" he murmured, his voice wreathed in guilt.

Craniamon winced guiltily upon hearing Magnamon blaming himself for his predicament. That wasn't what he intended when he said what he did. He instinctively opened his mouth to respond, but he hesitated, unsure of what he actually wanted to say.

"…That isn't…" he half-heartedly murmured, more to himself than to Magnamon.

Before either of them could say anything more, they heard the sound of a door unlatching and creaking open. With the dungeon entrance open, a pair of voices could be heard at the far end of the dungeon.

"So, we have ourselves two Royal Knights, one angel, and one new Demon Lord? That's quite the haul if you ask me," a craggy, sinister voice pointed out. "I really don't know what you're so moody about, but then again, you're always that way. Cheer up for a change."

"These jumped-up lackeys of Yggdrasil should have had their data scattered to the wind," a deep, charry voice insisted. "We should make an example of these heathens."

"And we will," the first voice responded with the verbal equivalent of an eye roll. "But not until Lucemon and Bagramon return. I am sure that they won't want to miss this, Lucemon especially."

"Oh, I don't know…" a blasé female voice idly wondered. "I think it would be more fun to toy with them for awhile. I would love to watch these stuffy and self-important knights squirm."

"They will squirm when I am drawing information out of them," the dark, serious voice promised.

Craniamon's eyes narrowed when he heard the voices getting closer. "Do you hear that?" he asked Magnamon, his body becoming tense with anticipation.

Magnamon's face hardened into a bitter glare. "It's the Demon Lords…" he said with bated breath.

Both Royal Knights prepared themselves for their arrival. Despite their chains and their humbled, subjugated states, neither of the Royal Knights wished to show any weakness in front of their captors. They both raised their bodies and kneeled as tall and as straight as their restraints would physically allow them. They refused to let the Demon Lords have the satisfaction of seeing them disgraced.

Craniamon and Magnamon both lifted their heads high until the chains went taut and the metal collars dug into the backs of their necks. They watched with hard, angry expressions as the shadowy forms of three Demon Lords passed in front of their cells.

Barbamon, Lilithmon, and Demon stopped between the Royal Knights' cells so that they could address the both of them, standing between the racks showcasing their armour.

"Oh, good, our guests are awake," Barbamon noted with a mocking sneer, sizing the two Royal Knights up. "I was worried that old Belphemon beat them a little too senseless. Once he gets worked up like that, it's hard to stop him…"

"My, my. Two Royal Knights of our very own…" Lilithmon mused with a sly, taunting smile as she placed her hands on her hips. She let out a laugh as she observed their proud postures and defiant glares. "Ohoho! How adorable! Look at how they try to retain their dignity! It would be sweet if it weren't so pathetic."

"Royal Knights…" Demon hissed straightforwardly, without any of the taunting of the other two. Behind the hood of his robes, his eyes fixed on the two captive knights tightly.

"Tch. You bastards," Craniamon growled, glowering defiantly at the three Demon Lords as he tugged against his chains.

"Well, aren't you tall, dark, and handsome?" Lilithmon teasingly noted, looking up and down at his muscular body through the bars before giving him a playful wink. She turned to look down at Magnamon, eyeing him as well. "And aren't you just the cutest thing?"

Magnamon's eye twitched, but he refused to let himself rise to her clear goading. He took a calming breath and gazed through the bars with a hard but resolute gaze. "Barbamon… Lilithmon… Demon…" he spoke, wanting to show that he had control despite their complete lack of it.

"If it isn't Magnamon!" Barbamon noted with sadistic glee at seeing the Royal Knight who defeated him at his mercy. "Why, it has been some time, hasn't it? Not since the Heavenly War, I believe… My, how the tables have turned…"

Magnamon's expression hardened subtly at the Demon Lord of Greed.

Barbamon smirked and walked over to Magnamon's complete set of golden Digizoid armour. "My sincerest apologies if you two are feeling a bit chilly down here. The heating in dungeons is so hard to get right, especially in such a damp climate," he sarcastically noted. He turned and gestured with his staff to the suit of armour. "Of course, I ordered the guards strip you both of your armour, largely for security reasons. I noticed during battle that they do have such interesting properties."

Craniamon gnashed his teeth in response, his ruby eyes blazing with anger despite the fact that he refused to speak.

"Why, I even had my personal gemologist inspect them. Not only are they chrome digizoid alloy, but they must be unique sub alloys of Chrome Digizoid. Incredibly rare, indeed…! Yet, their inimitable properties lead me to believe that they were blessed by some sort of god," Barbamon noted with a smirk. "Fancy that."

The Demon Lord of Greed turned and brushed his hand down the shimmering, golden surface of Magnamon's body armour. Magnamon scowled, his eyes tightening as he watched. Despite the fact that his armour wasn't on him, he couldn't help but feel somehow violated that his personal armour was being touched. He slowly tightened his bound fists behind his back.

"What can I say? I love gold!" Barbamon announced, careful not to scratch the golden surface of the metal with his claws. "It is the simplest, most basic form of wealth. It's a magnificent colour, it is easy to mold, and it is extremely valuable at its current rate. When I see it, I just can't help myself… Now, I know that this armour isn't pure gold… but given how positively unique it is, it might actually be worth more than gold, kilogram-to-kilogram. I do wonder just how much this would fetch on the market."

Barbamon grinned devilishly, watching as Magnamon slowly became angrier and angrier. He then walked over to Craniamon's black digizoid armour and patted the large breastplate nonchalantly. "And this, while not nearly as flashy and attractive, is bound to be no less valuable. Did I see you pull your weapons from it during battle, knight? It must be something special if you can store an artillery piece in here. This will go for almost as much as Magnamon's I wager, so don't feel too bad."

The veins in Craniamon's face throbbed and he levelled the coldest, most withering gaze at Barbamon as he watched the Demon Lord desecrate his holy armour with his bony, wrinkled hands. He wanted nothing more than to cut Barbamon's hands off for so much as daring to touch his revered armour. However angry Magnamon felt, Craniamon felt the insult ten times worse. The Royal Knight's blood boiled and he seethed with such rage that Demon took note of the utter wrath emanating from Craniamon's body.

"I believe you have hit a sore spot, Barbamon," Demon noted, eyeing Craniamon with dark interest. "It seems they are both quite proud… Fitting that they should be reduced to this."

"Damn it… you smug bastards…" Craniamon growled, his withering voice like that of glacial frost. "Did you just bring us here to mock us…?"

"No, no! That's just a fun bonus," Barbamon said with a wry shrug.

"The eye candy doesn't hurt either," Lilithmon readily added with a mischievous smirk. "I do love a man in chains…"

Magnamon glowered at them with defiant eyes, ignoring the heat in his face. "Even you can't be so petty that you captured us only for our armour, Barbamon," he demanded. "What do you want from us?"

"We want information," Demon hissed, stepping forwards imposingly. "What are your military plans?"

"Hah," Craniamon laughed mockingly. "As if we would tell you anything. You must be dumber than you look if you think we would betray our friends."

Demon tilted his head coolly, unperturbed by his uncooperative response. "I anticipated as much. We have ways of making you talk…" he calmly threatened.

Magnamon scowled. "No matter what you do to me, I won't tell you anything. I can take whatever pain or humiliation you throw at me," he boldly asserted.

"Oh, we're well aware of that," Barbamon answered. "I'm sure your loyalty runs deep. That's why I'm sure you won't talk no matter what we do to you."

"But we don't have to do anything to you," Demon said, pointing directly at Magnamon. He then shifted his arm, pointing towards Craniamon's cell, outside of his view. "We just have to do something to him."

Barbamon smirked and tapped his staff against the ground. "That's the problem with loyalty. It's a nice, fluffy concept, but it's so easily exploited. It's possible to be too loyal, you know…"

Magnamon fought back the wince that tried to morph on his face. The guilt and worry that was simmering inside of him suddenly began to take over and he felt his resolve weaken. He tried to beat those feelings down as soon as they emerged, refusing to show any weakness in front of them. Secretly, the thought of them hurting Craniamon because of him sent dread flooding through him. He wasn't sure if he could make that choice…

Craniamon glared at Demon with cold resolve. He knew that Magnamon would have doubts because of that. That's why he knew he needed to give him strength – to give him permission to make the necessary decision. What little honour he felt he had left dictated that he do nothing less.

"I am prepared for my fate, no matter how painful," Craniamon calmly insisted, not allowing a single ounce of weakness to show through. "Magnamon will tell you nothing, no matter how much I suffer. For our duty is to Yggdrasil and to our friends. I would gladly give my life to protect them… On my honour and duty as a Royal Knight."

Magnamon tightly clenched his fists behind his back, out of the Demon Lords' sight. He knew what Craniamon was doing… Although his heart stirred, Magnamon looked up at the Demon Lords with stony resolve. He had to. "He's right… And I would do the same."

Demon looked Craniamon in the eyes with a gaze of cold fire. He saw Craniamon's unyielding, red pupils staring back at him unflinchingly. "…We will see."

Barbamon threw up his arms with exasperation. "Augh! All of these saccharine displays of comradeship are making me sick to my stomach!" he complained with an exaggerated roll of his eyes. "You knight types are so bloody predictable and boring! Bloody Virus Busters…"

Lilithmon folded her arms and sighed. "Really now. You are almost as bad as the angels. Though, I do wonder if your libidos at least work," she mused with an aloof and disinterested gaze. "That would at least make you two more interesting than the other one."

"Shall we begin?" Demon proposed, stepping forwards eagerly.

"Not yet," Barbamon said, reaching his bony arm out in front of the robed devil. "Let's wait for Lucemon and Bagramon. Lucemon always gets prickly if we start without him… Besides, we still have that other prisoner to see to."

"Other prisoner?" Magnamon inwardly wondered.

"Tch," Demon grunted, gazing down at the two Royal Knights with a burning glare. "Do not get comfortable, Royal Knights. Your stay of execution won't last long," he promised them. "Whether you divulge information or not, you will still be dragged in chains to the gallows in Shroud like common criminals. You will be displayed to the world as the hollow, disgraced knights of a false god that you all are. Then you will be publically executed."

"The Royal Knights won't let that happen," Magnamon assured Demon, looking up at the robed demon with baleful eyes. "You won't win, Demon."

Demon scoffed as he stared back at Magnamon, not shying away from his defiant eyes. "I will… I will destroy the very foundations that the pillars of this world are built upon. I shall tear God asunder and incinerate the weak-hearted fools like you who get in my way."

With that dark promise, Demon calmly turned away and began making his way out of the dungeons. "…Enjoy your stay, Royal Knights. While you are able."

As Demon walked off, Lilithmon gazed down at the two Royal Knights with interest, taking perverse pleasure in seeing them on their knees. The Demon Lord of Lust let out an exageratted sigh. "My… It's such a waste to execute prime specimens like them, but I suppose it is the only recourse, isn't it?" she nonchalantly considered. She smiled wryly at the pair beneath her. "Perhaps we can break them into submission… I look forwards to finding out."

"Heh…" Barbamon laughed, tapping his jewelled fingers on Magnamon's expensive armour. "I'm more interested in finding out how much money their things are worth… They will only go up in value on the black market if they die. I don't really care what happens to them otherwise. You can do whatever you want."

"You won't get away with this," Magnamon promised them with the stony glower.

Barbamon rolled his eyes. "Yes, yes…" he sarcastically replied with a dismissive wave of his hand. "Come, Lilithmon. Let's see if your haul has awoken yet…"

"Now he should be fun to toy with…" Lilithmon agreed with a dark smirk, sauntering alongside Barbamon. She cast a taunting smile in the prisoners' directions. "Get comfy now, you two. Try to enjoy yourselves…"

"Tch…" Craniamon scoffed bitterly, his furious, ruby eyes drilling holes in the two Demon Lords as they passed by his cell and disappeared from his sight.

When he heard their footsteps getting further and further away down the dark corridor, Craniamon's bound fists relaxed slightly, and he gazed down with a frown. It sounded to him like they had another prisoner somewhere, but they clearly weren't being held in the dungeons with them, seeing as the Demon Lords left the dungeon entirely. It worried him… if it was one of the other Royal Knights, they would have said so, wouldn't they? They certainly weren't shy about their gloating…

As the dungeon door slammed shut and was promptly locked by the guards, silence overtook the cold, dark prison. For several seconds, neither of the Royal Knights said a word. The pervasive silence stretched on and lingered, leaving each of the knights to their thoughts.

Craniamon's hard features softened, and he gazed down at his defeated form with growing shame. He felt an excruciating twisting sensation inside of him that he tried desperately to beat down. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, trying to center himself.

He couldn't let anybody know how he was really feeling, least of all Magnamon. He had to be strong… He had to be calm and in control. He felt that, to do any less, would further tarnish his pride and honour. He refused to allow any further blemishes to himself. He resolved as much…

"…Magnamon," Craniamon spoke up, breaking the silence between them. His voice was cool and in control, almost trying to sound resigned. "I meant what I said… Don't worry about me. I've accepted my fate. Just focus on the other Royal Knights, no matter what they do."

Magnamon grimaced with pain in response to Craniamon's words. "…I know," he responded simply. Magnamon opened his mouth to continue, but he found himself at a loss for words. He couldn't bring himself to say anything else to him.

After a few seconds, Magnamon shut his eyes and went silent, gently resting his chin on the metal collar between his head and his clavicle. Now that the panic and outrage that he felt began to subside, the reality of the situation began to set in. He had time to reflect… time to dwell.

In that moment, he wanted the ground to open up and swallow him.

Magnamon clenched his trembling fists and shut his eyes tighter as the weight of everything seemed to converge on his restrained body, causing him to sink further. His past actions… the situation he was in… the grim future… They all conspired to eat away at him.

In that bleak moment, he realised one thing…

"This is all my fault…"