The roar of the crowd was deafening, and Robin was glad that Chrom had prevented him from getting completely drunk last night.

There's no way I could have dealt with this with a hangover, the priest thought as he surveyed the huge crowd of people jammed into Arena Ferox, all of them eager to witness the legendary Tournament of the Khans.

"Quite the crowd," Frederick observed from beside Robin, echoing the tactician's thoughts.

Chrom nodded, his eyes wide with excitement. "Indeed…"

"Great, the more embarrassing this will be if we fail," Robin complained. "Though the worst part is that they have this battle at ten in the morning. Do you know how early that is?"

"Yes. You've complained about this multiple times already," Frederick replied, annoyed.

"It's so the winners can spend the rest of the day feasting and partying," Chrom informed. "The khans don't want their warriors getting drunk before the fighting, after all."

Robin grunted, not wanting to admit that it made sense. His eyes then lit up as he noticed a group of three figures emerging from the far end of the colosseum. "Look - those must be our opponents."

The trio focused their attention on Khan Basilio's fighters as they entered the arena. The first was a tall, muscular man with a weathered face and a kind smile. He had short, red hair, and a tourney sword hung at his side. The second was a man with a harsh expression and messy, dark hair, and he also carried a sword. Finally, the third combatant was a young woman with blue hair and blue eyes, and, like her companions, she was also equipped with a blade.

"All sword users," Robin noted. "Frederick, it looks like you'll be our best shot at winning this with your lance."

The blue-armored knight nodded. "This tourney lance is a bit lighter than what I am used to, but I can manage."

"I'm assuming our strategy remains the same for the most part?" Chrom asked as he looked over his opponents.

Robin shrugged. "Sure. They don't look too tough."

The tactician glanced back at his opponents, and he saw that the woman was staring at the Shepherds with wide eyes and a shocked expression.

"... Why is she looking at us like that?"

Chrom raised an eyebrow. "Maybe she recognized me? I am a prince, after all. Though I don't remember making that many public appearances in Regna Ferox…"

"It matters not," Frederick stated as he readied his lance. "We will eliminate them regardless. Priest, let us hope that your plan brings us victory."

A few more minutes passed as a Feroxi soldier read out the rules to everyone, though Robin and his companions had heard them already from Khan Flavia. Everyone was to use blunted, tourney weapons so that nobody died, and a fighter would be considered 'out' if he fell to the ground. Once all three of a side's fighters were declared out, the tournament would end. The soldier also announced the names of all the fighters, and the three fighting for Basilio were apparently called Gregor, Lon'qu, and Marth.

"All right, then," the soldier finished as she stepped back. "You may begin."

The crowd's cheering resumed in full force, and the Shepherds prepared for battle as the opposite side did the same. Basilio's three swordsmen advanced with their blades raised, and Robin could see that there was no semblance of a structured formation to their movements. The three of them were probably just powerful mercenaries that Basilio hired, and so they didn't have much in the way of teamwork. Luckily, this meant that the Shepherds' formation would be able to pick them off one by one.

Frederick stood out in front, his lance poised to strike. Robin and Chrom flanked him from behind on each side, prepared to fend off any enemies that attempted to outmaneuver the big knight. They moved forward as one unit.

The first to test the formation was the big, red-haired swordsman. Gregor launched himself directly at Frederick, and the knight brought up his lance to block the blow. Frederick clenched his teeth as he was shaken by the attack, and he grunted as he tried to push the man back.

Robin moved to help Frederick, but he was intercepted by the frowning swordsman with the dark hair. The priest blocked Lon'qu's first strike, but the swordsman was quick, and Robin was forced to parry a series of lightning-fast thrusts. Lon'qu fought with a quiet ferocity that Robin struggled to keep up with, and though the tactician considered himself skilled with the blade, he knew he wouldn't be able to fight Lon'qu off for long.

What are you doing, Frederick!? Hurry up and finish with that guy and help me! Robin desperately thought as one of Lon'qu's thrusts caught him in the gut, almost finishing him right then and there.

Suddenly, a roar erupted in the crowd, and Robin glanced away for a quick second to see Gregor sprawled out on the ground of the arena. Soon after, Lon'qu was forced to leap back as Frederick's lance burst into his battle with Robin.

"Go assist His Grace," Frederick said to Robin. "I will handle this one."

Robin nodded, gingerly rubbing the spot where Lon'qu would have skewered him had they been using real swords. He had faith in Frederick's combat ability, so he was fine with leaving Lon'qu to the knight. Frederick's martial skill far exceeded that of Robin's and even Chrom's, which was the main reason why Robin had selected him as one of the combatants for this tournament.

The tactician turned to help out the Ylissean prince, who was currently engaged in a fierce duel with the blue-haired woman. They were matching each other blow for blow, though Chrom looked to be tiring rapidly.

Marth, huh? That's a bold name… However, it looks like her skill with the sword lives up to it. Robin had read all about the Hero King Marth and his exploits, though he found it strange to see a woman called Marth since he had always thought it to be a male's name.

Whatever, the priest thought as he joined the fray, attempting to blindside Marth by striking when her back was turned. Unfortunately for him, she heard him coming and parried his blow immediately after smacking Chrom in the face with the flat of her sword.

"Who are you?" she asked Robin, her blue eyes confused.

Robin mirrored her look. "What?"

"Why are you with Prince Chrom?" she questioned as she stepped back a bit.

Chrom rubbed his bleeding lip as he took his place next to Robin. "So you do know who I am… I thought so."

"I am from Ylisse, so naturally I would know my prince's face," she said, somewhat defensively. "I also recognize that other man as Sir Frederick, a famous knight in the service of Ylisse. You in the coat, however… I do not know you."

"Oh? Well, let's fix that, then. I am Robin, a priest in the service of the Church of Grima. Pleasure to meet you."

"Grima…" Marth muttered, her gaze darkening. "What would a Grimleal be doing with the Exalt's brother?"

"Does it matter?" Chrom broke in, his tone irritated. "We're supposed to be fighting, not making small talk… You're quite skilled, Marth, but you can't beat the two of us together."

"I agree," Robin said with a lazy smile. "I think I'm going to enjoy this. After I was banned by someone from visiting any more brothels, I could use some female company… Especially with someone as beautiful as yourself."

Chrom sighed. "Really, Robin? Can't you be serious for once?"

"Fine, fine," Robin sighed as both Chrom and Marth gave him disgusted looks. "I could 'seriously' use a drink, though, so let's get this over with… Bullseye formation, Chrom."

The prince and the priest formed a circle around their opponent, the two of them eagerly awaiting an opening in Marth's defenses. Marth frowned as she clenched her blade, her eyes tracking the pair and her sword hand ready to strike down whichever one of them tried to attack her first. The two Shepherds continued to circle around her until Robin was directly in front of her and Chrom was to her back, and at that moment, the pair charged together.

Robin slashed at Marth with all his strength, but the blue-haired swordswoman sidestepped the blow and brought her knee up into Robin's gut. The tactician grunted and moved out of range, and to his amazement, Marth immediately turned to engage Chrom, who failed to land a hit despite the opening Robin provided. Robin sighed as he charged back into the battle, aiming to finish Marth as she was distracted by Chrom. However, for what must have been at least the third time, Marth effortlessly maneuvered away from Chrom just in time to block Robin's blow.

The tactician stepped back for a bit, wondering how he could defeat this opponent. She's even better than Lon'qu… There's no way I or even Chrom could defeat her in a one-on-one fight. Honestly, she could probably take both of us at the same time, which means that trying to weaken her by splitting her attention between the two of us is pointless. We could try to tire her out, which would work if we were fresh, but those two shots in the gut I took aren't doing me any favors, and Chrom has also taken a couple hits. I have to distract her, but it can't be in a conventional way…

Robin sighed again, then grinned. He resolved himself to his task and rejoined the fight, forcing Marth away from Chrom for a bit. She easily parried his first strike and dodged his second. Robin then tried a horizontal, sweeping slash, which would be tough to dodge but fairly easy to block since it was such a weak but far-reaching attack. As expected, Marth blocked Robin's swipe with her blade.

This is it…! As soon as their swords made contact, Robin pushed himself forward, launching himself at Marth. However, to his opponent's surprise, Robin did not attempt to strike her with his blade, as it was still locked with hers. Instead, he brought his face close to hers and planted a kiss on her lips.

The crowed roared in surprise and excitement, and Marth's blue eyes went wide with shock. A moment later, Robin felt an intense pain in his side as Marth's sword came up to crash against his ribs. The tactician fell to the ground, ending his ridiculous run in the tournament. However, Robin smiled into the dirt as he heard Marth join him a second later, courtesy of Chrom taking advantage of the situation. The cheers of the crowd increased tenfold as Khan Flavia's fighters were declared the winners.

"You fiend!" Virion teased as he took a seat next to Robin. The Shepherds were currently enjoying a feast in the main dining hall of the fortress, along with practically everyone else within the castle. After the three fighters had been treated for their injuries, Khan Flavia wasted no time in starting the victory party.

Robin grinned over his drink. "You jealous?"

"But of course!" the archer exclaimed. "Your tactics not only won the tournament, but you also managed to win the heart of a fair maiden in the process! Magnificently done, my friend."

"Oh, please," Chrom interrupted as he sat on the other side of Robin. "The only things he won were a couple sore ribs and a bad reputation."

"Ah, yes. I heard the pristine Lady Maribelle refer to our tactician as a 'philanderer of the highest degree' earlier, which is a title I thought she had reserved specifically for myself! Though I am a man of many talents, I am glad to be rid of that name."

Robin wore a defeated smile. "All right, you people aren't going to let me forget this, are you?"

"Never," Chrom agreed with a grin. "Though, to be fair, I guess Virion was right when he said that your tactics won us the tournament, even if those tactics were a bit… Unorthodox."

"Unorthodox is putting it lightly," Lissa interjected as she appeared beside Chrom. "Frederick even said that he was ashamed to share the same battlefield as you, Robin!"

"Well, that's just Frederick being Frederick," Chrom pointed out. "He simply enjoys being an ass sometimes."

"Yep, I'm going to need more than a couple drinks to get through tonight," Robin said as he sighed. "See what I've sacrificed for you, Chrom?"

The prince laughed again. "Sure, sure. Then again, you didn't have much of a favorable reputation even before this incident anyway."

"That's rude!" Lissa admonished with a frown. "Don't worry, Robin, I still like you!"

"Thanks," Robin replied. "Just don't let Frederick catch you saying that. He'd probably beat me with his lance."

"I agree with Princess Lissa," Virion inputted. "You are quite the character, Robin! Perhaps even I could learn a thing or two from you."

"I like Robin too, but perhaps we shouldn't encourage him too much," Chrom suggested. "Next thing we know, he'll literally be fucking people on the battlefield. Er - you didn't hear that, Lissa."

"Make love, not war," Robin countered as he took another sip from his strong Feroxi ale.

"Naga, it really is too late to save you," Chrom replied playfully. "Anyway, there's been something I've been meaning to ask you. You're a priest, but you're also a great tactician. How did that happen? In my religion, at least, most priests aside from war clerics don't fight or study battle tactics."

"Hm… I guess I was just interested in it."

"You were just interested in tactics…?"

"Well, war in general," Robin corrected. "Mostly the reasons why people fight wars, to be exact."

"Most do it for money, or because they are required to by their lord," Virion said. "Pardon me, but that hardly sounds very riveting."

"I guess, but is their desire for money or their duty to their lord really that important that they would give up their lives? Or is it that they do not value their lives that much?"

"Everyone has a different reason," Chrom stated. "It varies from person to person. For example, Frederick fights because he's loyal to his kingdom, and I fight to protect my country and the Exalt's ideals. Neither one of us places little value on our own lives, but we would still nevertheless give them up if our cause required it."

"Yes, but what about people like mercenaries? They don't have a grand cause like you, but they take the same risks you do. Which one of you is more right? Whose life is worth more?"

Chrom looked thoughtful. "All lives should be weighted equally, in my view. Just because one person fights for money and another fights for world peace doesn't mean that the latter's life is worth more because his cause is more compelling."

"I see," Robin said. "That's an interesting view to take, though I'm not sure if I necessarily agree with you. Would a criminal's life be just as important as Exalt Emmeryn's, then? They both fight for different 'causes,' technically."

Before Chrom could think of an answer, Lissa asked, "What do you fight for, Robin?"

Robin looked down at his drink. "That's a good question… Heh, I suppose even a man who fights for money is better than a man who fights for nothing at all."

Virion stood up and yawned. "Gods, all this talk is quite dreary. I much preferred it when we were discussing women, though there is one thing I must say to you, Robin: a man who fights for nothing cannot fight for long. Keep that in mind."

The archer then walked off, and Lissa followed him, most likely eager to avoid the depressing turn their conversation had taken. Chrom ordered another drink, then fixed his deep blue eyes on his tactician.

"Robin… Virion is right, you know."

"I'm sure he is," the priest replied. "Can humans constantly risk their lives in battle if they aren't protecting something important, or working towards a goal? Probably not."

Chrom was silent for a bit, then spoke up. "... To answer your question from earlier, no, I don't think that my sister's life and the life of a criminal are equal. Em's life is much more valuable than most people's, I think. However, I know she wouldn't want me saying that. If you asked that question to Emmeryn herself, she would answer yes without skipping a beat. That's just the kind of person she is, and I admire her for it… You're Plegian, right? So you know about my father's war…?"

Robin nodded, and Chrom continued. "So you see, our father left us a legacy of carnage, death, and destruction. It was up to Emmeryn to fix all that he ruined, and she has done so with resounding success. Ylisse wouldn't be the country it is today if it weren't for her, and though Plegia still holds a grudge against us, as evidenced by these bandit attacks, even they have benefitted from the financial support provided by Ylisse during Em's reforms. Her policies have allowed both countries to recover from hell, and that's why I want to protect her and her ideals. Though I don't always agree with her, she has the ability to look past all the evil in this world, and because of that, she's been able to heal wounds that I thought would never close."

"No offense, but her views seem a bit naive to me," Robin said. "The most selfless person often suffers the most as well."

"I agree. Which is why she has me and all of the Shepherds to protect her."

"I see… You sound very dedicated. If I could choose to feel the same way as you, I would, but I just don't," Robin replied. "I mean, I'll fight for your cause, but I can't say I believe in it as much as you do."

"That's fine," Chrom said as he smiled and took a sip from his drink. "I don't expect you to. I still remember our conversation a few days ago, Robin, and you'll find what you're looking for eventually. Everyone in the Shepherds has already found it, and you'll be no exception. I'll make sure of that myself."

Robin finished off the last of his ale. "I guess it couldn't hurt to have someone else helping me look. Thank you, Chrom."

Chrom ordered his tactician another drink. "No need for thanks. You're part of the Shepherds now, so it's only natural that we help each other, right?"

"... Right."

Robin glanced around the room, watching with amusement as Vaike once again lost to Sully in the drinking contest they held every time the Shepherds visited a bar. Around them, Stahl was stuffing his face again while Virion congratulated the red-haired knight, no doubt trying to hit on her once again.

I suppose I can stay a bit longer with them… Maybe I really will find my reason to protect this world here.

Chrom stood in a rather secluded spot outside the Khan's Fortress, taking in the fresh, frigid air of Regna Ferox. The Shepherds had spent all day partying after their victory, and even though the sun had set a while ago, Chrom was sure that his militia was still drinking, feasting, and making merry like there was no tomorrow.

Well, I suppose they deserve it. Though only three of us fought in the actual tournament, it took all of us to make it this far.

Thinking of the bandits made Chrom remember what Robin had said to him. If those brigands had been hired by Plegia, why were they so intent on provoking Ylisse? To make things more confusing, they were carrying out attacks in Regna Ferox as well, so if Ylisse and Regna Ferox teamed up, then Plegia wouldn't stand a chance. Chrom couldn't help but wonder what sort of madness would compel King Gangrel to plunge his country into another unwinnable war, but he supposed that it didn't matter in the end. If anyone dared to attack Ylisse, they would be punished. He would see to that himself.

Chrom then heard footsteps behind him, and he turned around to see Maribelle walking out of the fortress' massive gates. The troubadour looked surprised to see Chrom.

"Prince Chrom? What are you doing out here?"

"Oh, uh, I simply wanted a breath of fresh air," he answered. "I take it you're here for the same reason?"

The blonde noble nodded. "Yes… The clamor was beginning to irritate me."

Chrom resisted the urge to laugh. Maribelle always found something to complain about, though he supposed that was part of her charm.

"Congratulations on your victory today, by the way," she continued. "You fought quite gallantly out there."

Chrom blushed. "Oh, thank you, I guess… Though it was really Frederick and Robin who did all the work. I just played the role of clean up, really."

Maribelle's face scrunched up at the mention of Robin. "Yes, well, at least you did not resort to underhanded tactics, unlike some people…"

This time Chrom really did laugh. "Ha! You don't seem to like Robin very much, do you?"

"Not many people in the Shepherds do. Honestly, I am not sure what it is that you see in him."

"Oh, come now. You have to admit that he is pretty smart, right?"

"... I suppose."

"See? He has his good points, though you're right in that he is a bit… eccentric."

"'Licentious' is the word I would use."

"Yes, he is quite loose for a priest," Chrom agreed with a smile. "I think there is more to him, though. Deep down, he's not as bad as you think."

"I would hope so. Anyway, I think that I will go for a stroll around the fortress grounds. It was nice talking to you, Prince Chrom."

Chrom nodded. "Likewise… Though I told you not to call me 'prince.' It's just 'Chrom' to you guys."

Maribelle gave him a smile. "As you say… Chrom."

Chrom watched her go. Under her frosty exterior, she is really is quite charming…

The prince was interrupted from his thoughts when more footsteps sounded from behind him.

"Ah, there you are!" a deep voice boomed.

Chrom turned and saw Khan Basilio, accompanied by the two male mercenaries who had fought for him during the tournament.

"Khan Basilio. Well met," Chrom greeted, then turned his gaze to the two mercenaries. "And you two are Lon'qu and Gregor, correct?"

Gregor replied with a hearty hello, and Lon'qu gave a nod, his eyes as cold and harsh as ever.

"Flavia told me about your plight," Basilio said. "You're planning on dealing with the bandit attacks, right? I heard they're being paid by Plegia. Those desert rats will pay for this!"

"We haven't confirmed it yet, but that's what we suspect, yes," Chrom answered. "Khan Flavia has agreed to lend us some troops in case negotiations with Plegia don't turn out well."

"I'd love to help, but I've been told to stay here and guard are borders, unfortunately," Basilio told him. "Flavia's been Khan for less than a day and she's already become a slavedriver… Anyway, since I can't go myself, why don't you take these two with you? You saw how skilled they are yourself, so I'm sure they'll be of use."

"Really? You two are willing to fight for us?" Chrom asked the two mercenaries.

Gregor grinned and thumped his chest. "Aye! Gregor will gladly fight for Prince Chrom! Though Gregor will require some payment for his skills."

Lon'qu nodded again, obviously a man of few words.

"All right then, welcome to the Shepherds," Chrom said. "Thank you, Khan Basilio. We'll make sure that those bandits don't bother either Ylisse or Regna Ferox ever again."

Basilio clapped Chrom on the back, almost toppling the prince over. "Looking forward to it!"

"By the way… What happened to that woman who fought for you?" Chrom then asked, curious as to why Lon'qu and Gregor were here but not Marth.

"Oh, Marth? I've got no clue where she is. She left as quickly as she appeared," Basilio answered. "Though I can see why. The poor girl is probably embarrassed after what your buddy pulled today."

"Ah, that makes sense," Chrom replied with a sheepish grin. "I do wish we had the chance to apologize to her, though, and she was quite skilled with a sword. Someone like that would have made a fine addition to the Shepherds."

Basilio nodded. "I haven't seen a swordswoman fight so well since Flavia. It's a real shame she left. It seemed like she had something important she wanted too, but I forget exactly what she said…"

"Well, I suppose it doesn't matter," Chrom decided. "Lon'qu and Gregor are plenty skilled enough, from what I've seen."

Basilio laughed. "That's for sure! Lon'qu here is the most ruthless fighter I've ever seen, though he has a strange fear of women. And Gregor is nothing to sneeze at himself; he once challenged me in single combat for the title of Khan and almost won, can you believe that?"

Gregor smiled at the praise, but Lon'qu seemed to be annoyed when Basilio divulged his fear of women.

"Again, we're glad to have you both," Chrom said. "With all of us together, there's no way that the Shepherds will lose."

"Big words, but I'm inclined to believe you. You know, Prince Chrom, you're unlike any royalty I've met. It's almost as if you're Feroxi yourself! I guess that's why Flavia took an interest in you."

Chrom smiled, a determined glint in his blue eyes. "I won't disappoint you, then. That's a promise."

Robin smiled to himself as he strolled through the market district of the Feroxi capital. Though he had spent the past few hours drinking and feasting, the night was still young, and so the tactician had decided to take a page out of Chrom's book and leave for a bit in order to get some fresh air.

As he made his way through the city, he was captivated by all the vibrant sights, sounds, and smells that were present in the lively capital. Just as Ylisstol had been such a grand experience for him, Regna Ferox did not disappoint as well. Though both Ylisstol and the Feroxi capital were alike in that they very different from most Plegian cities, there were some differences between the two. For one, Robin noticed that the streets in the khan's city were much more boisterous and eclectic than Ylisstol's, and there were quite a few people who were visibly drunk staggering throughout the city. Robin had chalked that up to the current festivities, but based on his interactions with the khans so far, he wouldn't be surprised if Regna Ferox was always this carefree.

The streets were also filled with bands of mercenaries, off-duty soldiers, and other armed men and women, a sight that was not normal in Ylisstol. The Feroxi seemed to value strength above all else, so it made sense that there would be a large number of fighters in and around the city.

Robin let his eyes wander as he continued throughout the marketplace. He had no real destination in mind, so he simply walked along the main path and surveyed the various stalls and vendors with varying degrees of interest. He stopped when he got to a stand that was selling masks after one mask in particular caught his eye. He chuckled softly to himself when he saw the black mask fashioned in the shape of Grima's face, its red eyes bright and fearsome.

However, he then noticed another sight that made him stop. Standing in front of the small shop and perusing the selection of masks was Marth, the very same woman he had fought earlier in the day.

Robin froze in place, unsure of whether to walk away and pretend he never saw her or go up to her and apologize for his uncouth actions. He was never one for confrontation, so he opted for the former, but as he turned away, the feeling of his lips on hers suddenly shot to the forefront of his memory.

Okay… It did feel kind of good, he admitted. He decided to change his mind and talk to her after all. Maybe if he apologized, he could clear the air with her and get to know her better.

Robin approached her and was about to call out to her, but Marth whirled around as soon as Robin's footsteps got close. Her blue eyes widened when she saw him, and her expression quickly became one of contempt.

"You… What do you want?"

"Ah, well, I just wanted to apologize for today," Robin said with a sheepish grin. "If I made you uncomfortable, that is."

Marth frowned. "That was a dirty trick you used, not to mention an embarrassing one. Do you know how many times I have been mocked today because of your actions?"

"Heh, sorry," Robin apologized again. "I underestimated your abilities, and so I had to amend my strategy pretty rapidly. I don't normally do things like that."

Well… That's not totally a lie, I guess. Though I may be a worthless degenerate, I've never kissed an enemy before.

"I see," Marth replied, her gaze stern and her tone skeptical. "Since you are here, there is something I actually wanted to discuss with you. How do you know Prince Chrom?"

"Chrom? I just met him one day."

"... Is that it?"

"Pretty much." Robin could have told her more, but he didn't feel like recounting the entire story. Too much effort for him.

"Well, pardon me, but I find it hard to believe that a Grimleal priest just happened to be invited to join Prince Chrom's Shepherds."

Robin let out a yawn. "Yeah, there's a bit more to it, but I don't really think it's that important. All you need to know is that I am not an enemy of Chrom or Ylisse. Happy now?"

Marth's face was just as stony as before. "And I am simply supposed to take your word for it?"

"Yes," Robin answered. "Why are you so obsessed with Chrom anyway? Who are you, exactly?"

Marth seemed to be taken aback by the question. "W-what do you mean? I am nothing more than a mercenary from Ylisse. It is only natural that I be concerned for the well-being of my prince."

Robin narrowed his dark eyes. "Then why do you sound so unsure of yourself? You're a bad liar."

"I am not lying," she insisted, then took a breath. "... My personal circumstances are not relevant. However, know this: if you hurt Prince Chrom, you will pay dearly."

The priest shook his head in disgust. "What are you, an old lover of his or something? Normal people don't care this much for their leaders. You have some sort of connection to Chrom; now I'm sure of it."

Marth scowled at him. "Believe what you want. Just remember my warning."

Robin sighed. This conversation did not go the way he wanted it to at all. "I told you, I have no intention of harming Chrom. Why is that so hard for you to understand?"

"You are a member of the Grimleal. That is reason enough for me to doubt you."

"Great, another bigot," Robin spat. "What do you have against the Grimleal?"

"You are planning on reviving Grima. That is reason enough for me to hold you in disdain. You ignorant fools do not realize that if the Fell Dragon is returned to life, the world will be destroyed."

Robin's eyes darkened, and his mouth tightened into a thin line. "Don't speak of things that are beyond your comprehension."

Marth matched his glare with one of her own. "I know more than you ever could, priest."

The two stared each other down for a tense second before Robin blinked and yawned again. "Man, I could really use another drink right about now. I don't suppose you would care to join me?"

"... What?"

"I said, would you like to join me for a drink?"

"Are you… Have you lost your mind?" Marth asked incredulously, shocked at Robin's sudden change in tone.

"Wow, a simple 'no' would have been more than enough," the tactician replied. "Fine, then. Enjoy your mask shopping while us winners gorge ourselves on the finest Feroxi dishes and wines."

He turned to leave, but not before shooting her a lazy smile.

"I do hope we meet again, Marth. I quite enjoyed our battle today, but I liked our kiss even more."

Marth stared dumbly at his back, her face heating up with embarrassment. She tried to fire back a reply, but found that no words came to her.

Robin considered her silence a victory, and he smirked to himself as he headed back towards the fortress. That was quite the conversation… I definitely need another drink after that. And maybe a whore or two for the night as well.

However, Robin's depraved thoughts were suddenly pushed aside as the feeling of Marth's lips returned to him. He absently lifted a finger to his own lips, then smiled.

Hm… That Marth is an interesting character, that's for sure. I wonder if I will get to experience that again…

The Mila Tree was enormous, and much larger than Famine had imagined it to be. The roots of the tree crawled across the lush grassland, and the trunk itself shot upwards into the sky, scratching at the blue underbelly of the heavens.

This is going to be a long climb, he realized as he set out towards the tree. The inside of the trunk had been hollowed out, and there was a staircase leading up to the top within. Pilgrims following the Divine Dragon often came here to pray, but apparently there was a strong magical barrier at a certain point which prevented anyone from going up any further.

However, unlike the pilgrims, Famine was a member of the Inner Circle, Grima's avatars made human. He was one of the chosen few who had been blessed with the dark aura of the Fell Dragon, and so he knew that he would be able to destroy the barrier. The weight of his massive sword also rested reassuringly on his back, and this weapon could always serve as a backup plan if all else failed. He had no doubt that his blade could go toe-to-toe with even the Falchion.

The warrior in wolf armor climbed for close to an hour, his strong legs and unwavering resolve keeping him going despite the monotony and physical toll of his mission. Eventually, he reached the location where the barrier was. The air was distorted in this spot, and there was a sort of invisible wall that prevented him from advancing any further. Bright sunlight poured in from above, indicating that he was nearing the top of the tree.

Famine grunted to himself as he unsheathed his sword. The golden blade shone brightly even in the darkness of the Mila Tree's interior, and its dangerous point promised to tear through anything that opposed it. He concentrated for a bit, channeling all the magical energy he had into his blade. Though Famine was no practitioner of magic, Grima's blessing gave him a natural affinity for dark magic, so all he had to do was open himself to the ambient darkness that resided everywhere in the world.

He did as much as he stood in front of the barrier, and soon enough, black magic poured in from his surroundings and engulfed his blade. Famine then swung his sword in an upward arc, easily destroying the barrier. He then continued upwards until he arrived at a flat area at the top of the Mila Tree.

The sun shone strongly overhead, and the top of the tree was covered in green grass, much like the area at the base of the tree. A gleaming blue object on a pedestal caught Famine's attention, and he realized that this must be the gemstone that he was sent to find. He took a step towards the stone, but was stopped by a woman's voice.

"Who are you?"

Famine whirled around, presenting his snarling wolf mask to a woman with green hair and a ponytail. She wore a confused expression on her face when she saw him, and she repeated her question.

"Who are you?"

"... I am Famine," he said simply, not using his real name. "Are you the guardian of the Mila Tree?"

"I am. My name is Tiki."

Famine nodded. "Do you guard this gemstone as well?"

Tiki frowned and suppressed a yawn. "Do you… Do you seek that gemstone? For what reason?"

"I think you know," he replied.

Her green eyes swirled with various emotions. "... You were sent by Grima."

"I suppose that is one way of putting it. If you do not want to die, then I suggest you let me pass."

"I cannot."

Famine sighed to himself, then raised his golden blade. "I thought you would say that. I have no desire to kill you, but for the sake of the world… I will do what I must."

A melancholy expression made its way to Tiki's face before she was engulfed in a burst of light. To Famine's surprise, the woman transformed into a massive green dragon, and as she roared, it felt as if the whole Mila Tree shook in fear.

"Turn back," Tiki ordered, her voice amplified. "You will not be able to defeat me. I am the Voice of Naga."

Famine was unperturbed. "Even if that is true… I am not afraid. This blade has felled a god before, and so it will not fail against the mere voice of one. Prepare yourself."

Tiki roared once again and spat out an enormous fireball towards Famine. The black-clad warrior leapt out of the way with surprising nimbleness, and he rolled on the grass and emerged in his stance, poised to strike.

Tiki took to the air, aiming to get herself out of the swordsman's reach. However, Famine chased after her, jumping to a height that was not possible for most humans. While jumping, he spun around rapidly, curling himself into a tight ball and increasing his momentum. At the apex of his flight, he uncurled himself and lifted his sword above his head with both hands. With legendary speed, he used the force from his jump and descent to slash at Tiki, cutting through the dragon's right wing almost entirely.

The manakete roared in agony as she struggled to remain airborne. Famine did not let up, taking this opportunity to perform his bizarre leaping attack again. With her right wing damaged, Tiki failed to dodge the attack, and her chest was nearly split open from the force of Famine's sword.

With a final roar, Tiki crashed to the ground and reverted back to her human form. Blood poured out of her wounds, staining the soft grass crimson. She gasped for air, but her lungs had been ruined beyond all repair. Her vision grew dim.

That move he used… It was the same one Mar-Mar used to do…

With a final rattling breath, the light in Tiki's eyes went out completely. Blood continued to flow from her injuries, filling the air with a metallic stench.

Famine stared at the manakete's corpse, then sheathed his sword. "I am sorry… Rest in peace."

He then went over and seized the gemstone from where it lay on the pedestal. His gaze lingered on the blue stone before he tucked it away safely. The Grimleal walked away from the pedestal and the dead body of the Voice of Naga, then exited the top of the Mila Tree. The tree seemed to be much less vibrant and full of life than before, but Famine did not know whether the cause of that was Tiki's death, the removal of the gemstone, or just his imagination.

Either way, he had a duty to fulfill. It is unfortunate that innocents have to die for this… But this is truly the only way.

Famine took a breath, then began his long descent.

A/N: RIP Tiki. Apologies to anyone who likes her, and she is actually one of my favorite characters in Awakening, so I didn't want to do this either... However, some sacrifices are necessary for the sake of the plot, and I just think the story is more interesting if anybody can die at any time and nobody has any sort of plot armor (also the story does have a tragedy tag, after all). On another note, Famine's identity probably isn't much of a secret by now, and as I said before, everyone in the Inner Circle is an actual character in Awakening. It's their motives that are the true mystery...