This story is rated ( NC-17/R ) M for violence, language and sexual content.

Disclaimer:Intelligent Systems owns Fire Emblem. I own this fanfic.

Fire Emblem:Legend Of The Chaos Hero

Book One: In The Grip Of Hatred

By Chaos Hero Mark

Chapter V: Friends, Rivals And Enemies

Mark felt angry over his encounter with Lyn. He was however, more angry with himself as he removed his hand from his swollen red, cheek. He made his way back to the castle tired, hurt and bitter. To add salt to the wounds, he still had no idea how he was going to assassinate Gathian and his lackeys, all in one place. Coupled with the fact, that he has made a few enemies within the council, Mark was over extending his reach. Walking through the corridors, he asked around for the servant Arel. One of the courtiers showed him where Arel was and eventually found him in the stables. After getting the key to a certain cell from him, Mark made his way to that same dark place.

When he arrived there, Mark opened the door and stepped inside. He was surprised to find that the prisoner was gone. He heard the door shut with a loud bang. Before Mark could even turn around, he found a chain wrapped around his neck as the prisoner attempted to choke the life out of him. He struggled as Knon tightened the chain around his neck. Mark was surprised at how strong Knon was, despite being so thin. The former minister ran Mark against the wall. The Tactician saw this coming and put his right hand up, blocking the impact as he gripped the chain with his left.

"Die, you worthless shit!!" Knon sneered at him.

Mark took a quick look around the cell and saw no one else present. He was debating in his mind how Knon got loose, but quickly tossed it aside. Right now, he had to fight for his life. Knon attempted to trip him over, But Mark held his ground. He had to think fast as he felt his life fading. He looked down and saw where their feet was positioned. Knon attempted to trip his left foot with his, as he tried to bash Mark's head against the wall. This left Knon wide open and gave Mark a now or never opportunity. When the minister attempted to trip him, Mark held his left foot to the ground and quickly used his right to trample his. The first one made him wince in pain as Mark trampled his foot again, using his heel. He quickly twisted his foot, causing Knon to scream in pain. He released his grip on Mark as the pain overtook him. The genius gave him a back kick to the abdomen, causing Knon to fall to the floor. Mark was coughing furiously as he looked at the man with a murderous glare. Knon's hands and feet were already bruised from forcefully freeing himself of the shackles. The weakened Elixir healed most of his wounds, though he still suffered from the side effects.

Knon scrambled to his feet despite his pain and dashed for the door. Mark pursued him as he flung the door open. Before he could run out and expose Mark, The Tactician gripped his hair and threw him back. He then used his back foot, kicking the door closed. Mark drew his scimitar as Knon got up. He saw fear in the prisoners eyes as he slowly walked towards him. Knon scrambled desperately for something sharp to use against his tormentor. His hands came upon his clay bowl and smashed it. The minister gripped a large sharp piece, stood to his feet and rushed in for Mark. The Superb Mind quickly took his stance as Knon ran in for him like a madman. Mark slashed at the right arm carrying the sharp object, decapitating his arm up to the elbow. Knon screamed in pain as his arm rolled one side. He fell to the floor, clutching what's left of his bleeding arm as Mark looked at him. The Tactician wanted to extend his suffering as Knon's crying and screaming filled the cell.

"Please! Spare me! I have a family!" He sobbed in between his tears.

Mark's tone became cold and murderous. "Be grateful... they're not in here with YOU."

He stood next to the man while he was clutching his arm. A second wave of screams filled the room as Mark brought down his scimitar, severing his right foot. Fresh blood began to flow, at a rapid pace from his severed foot as the man cried out in pain. Knon's grief was gut wrenching, but it took much more than his mere crying to sway Mark's heart. The genius sheathed his scimitar and grabbed his left hand with his right in a vice grip. He quickly twisted it, crushing two fingers and breaking his wrist. This caused the man to scream further as Mark sat on top of him; lifting his head and gripped his hair. He clenched his right hand and began striking the man across the face. The minister's screams caused Mark to beat him more thoroughly, as each blow battered and bruised the man's face. Rage consumed Mark as each blow caused blood to flow across the man's face, silencing his cries. Although his fist was numb, he gripped it at his tightest as he proceeded to crush Knon's skull. The blows continue to smash the man's face as Mark's knuckles began bleeding, rapidly.

Time stood still as the murderous deed played itself out. The man was already dead, but Mark's fist continued to strike his face. When it finally ended, he saw how badly Knon's face was smashed in, to the point where the former minister was unrecognizable. As Mark stood up, he looked at his bloodied hand. Parts of his finger and knuckle skin was torn; revealing his bleeding flesh. He could even see the bone from his blood-stained knuckles. He made his way to the door and left the dungeon.

- X -

Dart had just finished the head count. He noticed one member missing and shouted to the group. "Oi!! Where the Hell's Karel?!!"

Some of them didn't know where he was. But when Guy heard he disappeared, the Mounted Swordsman had an ill feeling inside. Dart, Guy and Geitz were about to leave the ship to search for Karel, when they spotted him heading towards them. His expression was calm and serious as he approached them.

"An' where did u run off to?" Dart called out to him.

"... nowhere." Was all Karel said as he came aboard to get his things.

A few minutes later, a servant approached the ship with a horse and wagon. The group loaded their goods onto the wagon and had the servant leading the way.

As they traversed through town, Geitz walked next to Dart and asked him a question. "Hey. What do we plan to do when we get our hands on Mark?"

"We?" Dart's eyebrow shot up at hearing this. "Geitz, dere's no "we". Tis jus' me an' Mark."

"Oh c'mon." Geitz pleaded. "I want in."

"Hey. I'm tha one that got stiffed, not you."

Geitz thought for a moment and then remembered. "Wait. Are you talking about that last game of lots?"

Dart hushed him frantically, forcing Geitz to whisper the same question and added. "But didn't you rig that last game?"

The pirate mumbled. "Yeah, but I didn't think he'd run off wit'out paying me."

"I think he knows." The Warrior retorted.

"Don't care if he knows. Nobody stiffs me." Dart waved his hand passively.

While Dart and Geitz were conspiring on how they'll swindle some coin from Mark, Lyndis was trying to plan her next move. Florina saw her friend upset and sought to comfort her.

"Lyn." The short girl came to her with a worried look on her face. "You seem troubled. Is it about earlier?"

The swordswoman was silent for a while. When she was first reunited with their grandfather, Lyn had already formed a strong bond of friendship with Mark. The Tactician had always held her in high regards, although he didn't always show it. After their reunion and during the Black Fang war, she found herself drifting from him. The Caelin Princess had also seen him becoming distant and cold. Seeing him here, she wondered if he even changed. She wondered if Athos's words will come to pass, concerning Mark.

Florina spoke again, snapping her out of thought. Lyndis turned to her, but still didn't know what to say.

"It wasn't your fault, Lyn." The pegasus knight tried to cheer her up.

"Thank you Florina." Lyndis forced a smile.

She knew who was at fault, and it wasn't her. She felt that he owed her answers. Her smile faded after a moment. The Lorcan warrior didn't noticed Florina, still walking next to her. The short girl tried her to cheer her up by talking of other things, like old times. Florina was also careful to avoid certain topics, in case it reminded her of him. Raven was speaking with an upset Lucius, while Guy and Priscilla laughing like a newlywed couple.

"A nightmare, huh." The mercenary whispered. "Have you told anyone this?"

"No." Lucius shooked his head slightly. "I know that Lord Rugal has barred us from him, but I must see him regardless."

"You're not the only one." Raven motioned his head towards Lyn and her knights. "I don't know what happened with the Archsage, but this business with Mark is somewhat far'fetched."

"Not exactly." Lucius corrected him. "I feel it has something to do with his spirit. He's been having nightmares, near the end of the war. Perhaps, its something from his past that has made him so angry and vengeful."

"Hey. We should start by learning of the cultures and how they do things here." The red haired spoke.

"Yes. We should." The Bishop agreed. "I hope its nothing barbaric like arena fights."

"Let's hope Karel doesn't go crazy here." Raven's tone was sarcastic. "He might garner unwanted attention." His tone then, turned serious. "I still wanna know the deal with that Knarvet guy. If he threatened us like that, then we're getting into some serious business."

As they marched on, passing through various houses, inns and the large arena, the group were deciding their next plan. Meanwhile, Fargus and some of the Davros members went to get supplies and trading goods. The captain wondered if they'll be okay. It was rare for the captain to see his friend, in the threatening manner he displayed earlier. Fargus still remembered the day Mark was hunted. At that time, he and Knarvet were already friends. The Davros leader promised him that he'd care for Mark, who was fourteen at the time. And now, that scared boy from the past has grown into a hateful, consumed man.

After an hour, the company finally arrived at the castle. Castle Trivalon was a sight to behold. It was a mixture of a mansion and a cathedral, like the very gods themselves built it. The outer walls were colored turquoise, like the soldiers armor. There were four windows, two below and two above. Inside the entrance, there were three paths. The straight one leads to the throne room, where the daily affairs take place. The left path leads to the dining room, library and music room. And finally, the right leads to the guest rooms and other places in the castle.

The group unloaded their goods as the servants and maids arrived to assist them. When they were set, one of the servants led them to their quarters, using the right path. The right path had paintings displayed on the left, red walls. The paintings were of various landscapes, with the artists name imprinted on a steel plate below. The right walls with the windows, were painted white and had pillars, built in spaciously. The floor was filled with teal and light green marble tiles. As they walked through the moderately long path, some of the Legion glanced at the paintings. The paintings themselves were well painted, imitating the real thing. The details, colors; there were even some creative art displayed. Lyndis saw a portrait of what looked like a village. The oceans of purple grass reminded the green haired, Sacaen of her birth place. A servant interrupted them; informing them that they will have time to sightsee later. The group decided to unpack and settle first.

The servants and maids directed each of them upstairs, to their designated quarters. Guy and Lucius were put in the same quarters, while Raven and Priscilla were in the one next to them. Opposite them, Kent and Fiora shared one room, Sain and Florina took one next to theirs. A few feet from them, Rath and Karel shared one room and opposite them, was Dart and Geitz quarters. That just left Lyndis. A new maid walked Lyn to her quarters at the end of the corridor, while helping her with the bags. As she began to settle in, Lyndis saw a cupboard for her clothes and a small room where she could bathe. She saw the two sofa-like chairs and assumed they are for her guests. A few minutes later, with clean bathwater in place, Lyn undressed herself and took a warm, relaxing bath in the rather large, tiled tub. She saw the soap and other rare bath contents arrayed before her. Without hesitating, she decides to make us of it and take her time, after an exhausting journey.

- X -

Cassandra made her way to the library, searching for Mark. She wanted to know, how he was holding up and what happened in Castle Malibine. She felt the door locked tight and asked for a key from a maid. After a few minutes, Cassandra entered and closed the door behind her. A moment later, the princess saw Mark sitting at a blank desk. His head resting on it sound asleep. As she walked up to him, Cassandra glanced at the floor and noticed drops of blood. The Tactician groaned as he woke up and saw Cassandra at his side.

"Mark, what happened to you?!" She panicked. Mark winced in pain as Cassandra saw him, lift his bleeding hand onto the desk. "Wait here! I'll get some help!"

As Cassandra left, Mark felt fatigue overtaking him. His mind was all over the place. He felt his confidence dwindling, slowly on the plan. Three to four months was all the time Mark had left, before Gathian's arrival. Even then, he has made an enemy out of people like Bersk. The Tactician knew that the power-hungry, elite would make an attempt on his life. He was slightly relieved to see Dart, Geitz, and Fargus here. But he wanted to know what the Legion was doing here. Lyn wanted to know why he ran from her. Mark felt he needed to bend the truth in order to protect her. But he couldn't do that unless he learns of their intentions. Feeling depressed, he shut his eyes and slept with no regards to his surroundings. After a few minutes, Cassandra returned with a large bowl of warm water in one hand, a towel and a pouch of crushed herbs in the other. She set them in front of Mark as he woke again, groaning. She took his hand, gently as Mark mumbled for her not to. She saw pieces of his flesh grated to the point where the bone could be barely seen.

"Mark." Cassandra spoke in a calm manner, as Mark was fully awake. "This is going to hurt but I need you to be strong, okay?"

The Tactician nodded, preparing himself. Cassandra placed his bloodied hand inside the bowl, causing Mark to wince in agony. As the pain continued, his whimpering came in between moments as it got louder. Gritting his teeth and bearing it, Mark struggled to stifle his cries as Cassandra took his hand out of the bowl, gently dried it and began to apply the herbs.

When she was done, Cassandra asked him with a serious expression. "Why didn't you have that hand attended earlier?"

"I'm fine." He muttered softly.

She stared at him, worried for his well being. "No, your not fine. Your hand could've been infected. Mark, what happened?"

He remained silent. Cassandra was about to speak again, when Nathyn entered the library. The short man walked up to them with bandages in his arm.

"Here." The maestro handed it to Cassandra and grabbed a seat next to Mark. The Princess unwrapped the bandage and began wrapping his hand with care. Nathyn was concerned for Mark's well being as he too, wanted to know what happened.

After a while, Mark spoke with a resignated tone. "I can't do this. I don't think I can make it work."

"Mark, look at me." His uncle began. "Start from the beginning."

And so, the genius told them some of the events that took place at Castle Malibine. Cassandra was painfully reminded of how deranged her father was. Mark also told them of Lyndis's Legion, whom he worked with in the past. The Tactician left out certain details, which made Cassandra all the more curious. Mark then concluded with murdering Knon Merces; Trivalon's, former finance minister. When he was done, Nathyn thought it best, getting his nephew to rest himself.

"Don't worry about things around here." Cassandra smiled at him. "I'll handle it. You just get some rest."

Mark looked at Cassandra and was assured by her sincerety. He left the library, accompanied by his uncle.

- X -

As Mark made his way to his quarters, he saw through the window at a distance, Knarvet and his men approaching. The Tactician warned his uncle to stay as he dashed ahead to meet the elite. He had to shake himself out of his fatigue and appear with maintained stability.

When he ran up to Knarvet's side, Mark addressed him. "What are you doing here?"

"I'm here to arrest a criminal among your guests." Knarvet muttered, carrying a grim expression.

"At least tell me what's happening." Mark pressured, trying to hide his anxiety.

At hearing this, Knarvet motioned for his soldiers to stop and took Mark out of earshot. "A soldier witnessed my three trainees being slain by a madman." Knarvet raged. "And this madman happened to a guest of yours."

"What did he look like?" Mark said, awaiting the worst.

"Blue gi, grey pants, black hair and he's a swordmaster." The Lancer stated unfazed.

"Shit!" Mark buried his face in left hand, as he swore. "That's Karel you're talking about."

"I will arrest him and the others." Knarvet stated in a cold manner. He was about to motioned his soldiers forward, when Mark stopped him.

"Arrest Karel if you must, but you will not lay a hand on the others!"

Some of the soldiers were curious as to who the foreign noble was. Knarvet took Mark again out of earshot and whispered angrily. "My prince, you are making this hard on me and yourself."

"You should know something about your "criminal"." Mark retorted. "He's no ordinary swordsman. He thrives on fighting strong opponents, regardless of who they are." He surveyed Knarvet carefully and said something that threw him off guard. "Lose the armor."

"What?!" The Lancer spoke up. "Lose my armor? Please tell me you jest!"

"I'm not." Mark's tone was serious and unfazed at Knarvet's surprised look. "Karel is fast. His aim was to draw you out and kill you. He knows how strong the Four Cornerstones are."

"He only thinks he does." The Lancer sneered as Mark helped him with shedding his armor. He felt that his liege was on to something. The armor would slow him down. Although he risked exposing himself, the aged elite had to rely on speed and his ability, were he to win. The Tactician saw the Lancer was wearing an expensive, long-sleeved, dark green tunic with gold patterns. Meanwhile, Karel came outside the castle entrance. The weather was a fair, blue sky with patches of clouds. He saw oceans of short green grass, stretching far and wide, bordered by burnt sienna walls. There was one wide path from where he stood, leading to the gate. Some distance away, he saw a small battalion of soldiers led by the elite he met earlier. As Karel took his time walking up to them, Mark saw him coming and told Knarvet to refrain from killing him, if possible. Knarvet didn't like the idea, but vowed to obey Mark as best as he can. The Lancer motioned for his soldiers to stand one side as they entered the grass area. Mark decided to stand with the soldiers and hope Knarvet survives.

One of the soldiers whispered to his companion. "Who do you think this guy is. Even the commander seems to be obeying him."

Before the companion responded, Mark could hear them whispering and said. "For those that know not my name, I'm Gary Stu of Akaneia. Apprentice of his majesty and second in command."

The soldiers began mumbling to themselves and arguing with Mark. The king never informed many people of Mark being second in command. Rugal was also vague about how much power Mark would have here. The Tactician stared at them with a cold glare and threatened them. The threat alone got them to shut up. Karel got nearer as Knarvet took a Toxic Lance from one of the soldiers. Mark was about to protest, but Knarvet motioned his hand to quickly assured him, things were under control. Mark wasn't sure about this and quickly panicked, internally that something may go wrong. Having Karel give himself up, without incident is like having Florina going on a crazed, killing spree. The aged elite ordered his men to stay out of this, which they hesitantly obeyed. Karel stood a bit far from Knarvet; blood red Wo Dao drawn and carrying a murderous smile.

Slightly nervous, the elite confronted him. "You have been charged with the murder of three soldiers! Do you deny this?!"

The Sword Demon muttered a simple "no", causing the aged elite to assume his stance. Legs apart, spear in both hands, eyes kept on Karel. If what Mark said was true, then Karel may prove to be a challenge for him. Karel also assumed his stance, keeping his bloodlust eyes on Knarvet. After a moment, Karel ran in for Knarvet. The elite saw this and poised himself to counter. Karel moved so fast that Knarvet could barely keep track of him. The crazed swordsman attempted to slash at Knarvet up front, leaving the elite barely a chance to block it. It didn't end there, as Karel shifted to the side and attempted to kill him. The elite blocked the blow by mere instinct. Knarvet quickly understood how deranged the Sword Demon was and hoped he wasn't Gathian's younger brother.

They continued to clash for a while. Every killing attempt Karel made, was well countered by Knarvet. The fight was so intense that the soldiers and Mark kept their eyes and waited anxiously. Every one of Knarvet's counters only served to excite Karel further. It's been months since he had a strong opponent to satiate his battle lust. After a while, Knarvet's lance snapped in two as the Sword Demon made another attempt at him. He slashed a wound against Knarvet's chest, inflicting a wound upon him. Thankfully, the elite wore a thin, weightless chain mail underneath his tunic. Even with that, he was surprised to see it penetrated and cutting into his flesh. Karel was surprised himself since the wound he inflicted, should've been deeper.

The Sword Demon flashed his demonic smile and began doing various stances at rapid speed. His eyes were bloodshot red as he began to slash at Knarvet with accurate precision. The attacks came so fast that the Lancer couldn't block them all. The first slash struck him on the thigh, opening a thick wound. The second slash struck him near the waist, piercing his mail. A deep wound was inflicted there as well. The third one, which was a thrust was aimed for his neck. Knarvet's body moved on its own, causing Karel's thrust to pierce his right shoulder. Knarvet could feel death's presence nearby. Luckily, he still had the blade half of the Toxic Lance. Since he couldn't follow Karel's movement or his slashes, the elite was in trouble. When Karel came up to him, the Sword Demon had one knee bent; both hands gripping the Wo Dao, he attempted to gut Knarvet from below up. Karel slowed a bit, giving Knarvet the moment he needed. Before Karel could go any further, the Lancer dodged his blade, by moving to his right side. Toxic Lance in hand; gritting his teeth through the pain, Knarvet thrust the blade part into Karel's left shoulder. The Sword Demon felt quite a deep pierce into his shoulder. The swordsman took a few steps back, after Knarvet pulled out the lance and backed a bit himself. Mark saw what Knarvet did with the Poison Lance. Because the spear itself was short, it made it easier for Knarvet to aim and use his ability. Mark saw a similar ability with Gathian and began to wonder if there was a connection.

His thought was interrupted when Karel spoke, smiling in spite of his wound. "You are a worthy opponent, old man. Those weaklings were merely sheep, compared to the wolf I'm facing."

The pain that accompanied the wounds on Knarvet's body was near unbearable. He found himself losing blood, vision and strength. Mark wanted to call for a healer, but chose to calm himself and hold his tongue. This was a battle between two warriors. Interference on behalf of either would disgrace them. Why was Knarvet holding himself from killing Karel? Is he doing this to prove his loyalty to him? Whatever the case was, Mark wanted Knarvet to survive.

Knarvet knew that his liege was watching him. He knew that Mark didn't want him to die. Gritting his teeth, he fought through the pain. He refused to die like this. Karel held his sword in his right hand. With the left arm incapacitated, the Sword Demon's techniques were limited. Knarvet waited for him as he readied himself. When Karel came close enough, he attempted to slash the Knarvet's neck. What the Sacaen swordsman never saw coming, was his own defeat. Knarvet timed his guess at how Karel would moved, and attacked him at this point. He quickly fell to his knees as he shifted the broken lance to his right hand. He arched his body backwards; far enough for the blade to strike thin air, surprising Karel. Fighting the pain, he had only one shot to make this work. Before Karel could even react, the aged elite thrusted himself up and pierced the Poison Lance in the swordman's other shoulder. The Sacaen eventually submitted to the pain, causing him to cough up blood due to the poison in his system. His agony was unbearable, causing him to drop his sword. Knarvet pulled the lance out and pushed Karel away from him.

The Sword Demon fell on his back, exhausted and unconscious from the poison as Knarvet gathered enough strength to stand. His soldiers came up to him, cheering for his victory. Mark ran ahead and caught Knarvet as he collapsed. Mark called for a healer, which arrived quickly and proceeded to mend the aged man's wounds.

"Have him attended to as well!" Knarvet shouted to the other healer. Some of the soldiers protested, but the Lancer silenced them. As Karel's wounds were attended, Mark went to pick up the swordsman's Wo Dao and give it to Knarvet. Two soldiers came by, with two chains to bind Karel's hands and feet. When the healer was done using the restore staff, she began to use a recover staff.

Mark whispered to Knarvet as he stood up. "Do not let the torturers touch him."

"Of course not." The Lancer replied. He looked around and saw they were amidst company. Careful not to address Mark by his real name. "But what do you suggest we do with the prisoner, Lord Gary? I want this man to pay for killing my soldiers, indiscriminately."

"Deathmatch. Two days." Mark whispered.

When Knarvet got to his feet, he asked in a grim tone. "And what of your guests? Will they attempt to interfere on his behalf?"

"No." Mark replied. "I'll make sure of it."

When the healers were finished attending Knarvet and Karel, the soldiers proceeded to bind the unconscious Sacaen, hand and foot.

"Knarvet." Mark spoke in a calm tone, preparing to leave. "Thank you for not killing him. I need to speak with you tomorrow, in my quarters."

The elite simply nodded his head, acknowledging his thanks. Knarvet would have personally killed Karel, but his duty to Mark was of more importance. He knew not, what business the Legion had with his prince. He only knew, that they were to be thankful for Mark's intervention. His prince's protection was the only thing preventing the elite from waging war upon them.

Authors Notes: Hope you've enjoyed this one. Tried to bring the Swordmaster's critical, animation to life in the Karel fight.