Crimson Flower

Wrath of the Dragon

Castle Fhirdiad, Royal Capital of the Holy Kingdom of Faerghus

"Quick! Tend to Lady Rhea's wounds!" Catherine ushered the physicians of Fhirdiad as they rushed to treat the Archbishop's wounds, specifically her severely wounded thigh. One of the medics tended to her stab wound on the stomach.

Gilbert looked horrified at the state of the Archbishop, having known her as a peerless warrior in all of Fodlan and to see her in such a dire state, he almost couldn't believe she was bested yet again despite preparing for the battle. Then, his eyes wandered where Dimitri was as he had noticed the gates of Castle Fhirdiad closing.

"His Majesty? Where is His Majesty, King Dimitri?!" He looked frantically at the missing king.

Everyone he looked to merely looked down, adding into the dread and confusion that was growing within the knight.

"King Dimitri… has fallen." Rhea relayed the news within heavy breaths as the physicians tended to her wounds, causing her pain while her wounds closed up thanks to healing magic and the use of potions to mend them albeit painfully.

She didn't see Dimitri fall but the news she had heard about him being beheaded upon defeat by Edelgard was all she needed to hear to know of his loss.

"No…" At that moment the world around Gilbert began to crumble, unable to process what he had heard initially until the realization that he had outlived yet another king and failed to be by their side to protect him.

"We have little… time to grieve…" Rhea said as she forced herself to stand up despite pleas from those tending to her. Ignoring the crestfallen Gilbert while dragging herself passed him.

"Lady Rhea, don't force yourself—" Cyril tried to urge, having assisted Rhea devotedly ever since he whisked her away from her defeat in Tailtean Plains.

"I MUST!" Rhea shouted defiantly. "That wicked girl and that traitorous filth will no doubt march into Fhirdiad soon, they will not revel in their victory in Tailtean Plains, they know we are broken and they will come for us here. We… must prepare."

The people within the castle, those loyal under Faerghus looked down at the castle floor, broken and seeing the futility of further resisting the Empire especially with the momentum the Imperial Army has by now thanks to their victory. Tailtean Plains was where everyone in Faerghus put their hopes in finally repelling the Empire and beginning a long string of counter attacks to put Edelgard and her armies to heel but even the Kingdom and Church's finest couldn't hold them back. Dimitri and Rhea both lead the charge as such a sight to behold and now, one of them is dead and the other is severely injured, what hope do they have left?

"I bring urgent news!" A soldier came, bearing an opened scroll meant for messenger birds to deliver.

"What is it?! The Imperial Army is marching into the capital?" Catherine asked the soldier who was still catching his breath. "Speak now, soldier!"

"Margrave Gautier has sent word that Sreng has launched an attack from the north while our garrisons in Duscur have sent word that the people of Duscur are beginning an uprising!"

"Curse them! To do this at a time like this!" Catherine hissed as her eyes went to Rhea who was being assisted by Cyril to walk.

"They must have heard of the state of the war or our defeat in Tailtean Plains, sensing it as a ripe opportunity to attack us. They wouldn't be so bold to assault Faerghus if it didn't have the necessary force to keep them in check." Rhea surmised, sitting down on a chair offered for her.

There was whispering among the people of Faerghus within the castle, the servants and some soldiers whispering the same thing that has been hanging over their heads should they lose in Tailtean Plains.

"There's no hope anymore…"

"We should just surrender."

"Yes, we might be granted mercy like the Alliance did."

"Resistance is futile now, if King Dimitri and Lady Rhea can't beat them… no one else can?"

The atmosphere of hopelessness and defeat had begun to take over everyone by now, even Gilbert seemed like the world had ended for him the moment the Faerghus Royal Family's line was broken.

Even if they somehow, by a miracle, repel the Empire's siege on this city, they do not have the means to hold it or fight back anymore. There also comes to question who will be crowned their sovereign now that the bloodline of Blaiddyd has been severed, King Dimitri died with no heirs and his uncle, branded a traitor for his supposed role in the Tragedy of Duscur.

Civil war amongst the remaining Faerghus nobility is inevitable, they will fight over who takes the crown like dogs fighting over their prey.

Even Catherine's own resolve to continue fighting seemed to falter as she pondered on taking Rhea away to safety and leaving Faerghus. Hope is a forlorn thing to them and it was the only solution the knight captain could think of.

As cliche as it sounds, further resistance seems futile.

"Surrendering now will only allow the tyranny of those heathens to prosper over Fodlan." Rhea told those who had verbally expressed their doubts of ever winning this war.

"The Goddess is watching over us, no matter how much we despair, she will grant us victory as long as we maintain faith." Rhea preached, having her breathing normalized after her wounds had been tended with both medicine and healing magic, though still visibly limping with the damage in her thigh and wincing in pain from the more grievous wounds that healing magic and medicine can only heal to a certain extent.

"What good is our faith in the Goddess when even those who still follow her have all lost everything?!" A soldier spoke, one of the many whose lingering resentment to Rhea and her involvement in his nation's affairs have led to this, to the precipice of their doom.

The others around Rhea and the members of the Church of Seiros all bore the same look. Bitter and resentment in their eyes despite not daring to stare straight into Rhea's unforgiving eyes were all conveying the same message: that she was to blame for the many sufferings and losses their now broken Kingdom is facing.

"Our King took faith with your words, we followed him and not you, yet you also failed him in every turn! What use is faith to the Goddess when you and the people you command have brought nothing to us but despair! Maybe the Emperor was right that all you and your Church cared about is nothing but–"

Before the disgruntled soldier could finish his tirade against the Archbishop, he was shot in the neck by none other than Cyril, whose glare was fierce and furious from the disrespect to the Archbishop despite her best efforts to stop the Empire's advance.

Everyone except Rhea were shocked at the display of aggression by Cyril until the other soldiers reacted by drawing their swords and pointing it towards the Almyran as the soldier who had an arrow lodged deep into his throat, choking in his own blood.

"You foreign bastard!"

"You will die for that!"

Just before things could get worse, Rhea let out an aura of overwhelming power. Despite her weakened state, the Archbishop could still easily mow down everyone present in the room with her should she wished to.

"I will not tolerate mutiny." Rhea's voice echoed, her pupils turned to reptilian slits to indicate that she was still powerful enough to take them all on, that and the pressure of her aura had made the soldiers around her buckle on their feet.

"If you do not wish to fight for the Goddess then fight for the memory of your fallen king. He did not die in the battlefield just so you will abandon a cause he deemed necessary to fight for."

The soldiers all looked down, letting their swords rest at their side either out of fear from the Archbishop's power or with conflicted acceptance of Rhea's words regarding what Dimitri tried to fight for in life and what he died for.

Rhea's pupils reverted back into round ones as her aura disappeared, seeing as she doesn't need to maintain it after successfully cowing the soldiers of Faerghus to submission.

"Anyone who leaves this city's defense is considered a treacherous action to abandon the fight to the Empire will be killed. Make sure everyone understands that." Rhea said with finality.

"But Lady Rhea–" Gilbert tried to reason but Rhea was having none of it.

"I HAVE SPOKEN." Rhea said before she walked past the now dead soldier, not caring that she stepped on the puddle of his blood, leaving bloodied footsteps on her way as she was accompanied by her inner circle with Catherine looking regrettably at the soldiers. Her blue eyes having lost some shine in them following what she had witnessed from Rhea and especially Cyril, who bore no look of remorse for what he did.

Byleth saw himself in a familiar place, a familiar place that he hasn't been in for so long… He was in Sothis' throne room within his subconsciousness, now merely literal fragments of itself as he stood on the floating piece of land amid the black void surrounding him.

When has it been like this? The last time he recalled, this place was still whole but was steadily being consumed by darkness when Solon banished him into a place called Zaharas. It seems those five years he was asleep may have caused this or is it the absence of Sothis that caused it to crumble to nothing more than a floating island within the void of his consciousness?

The crumbling stairs laid before him, Byleth looked up and hesitated for a bit, knowing that there was nothing there anymore. No little girl would yell and berate him like an elderly to a child, not even her throne was there but a feeling within him compelled him to walk up the steps regardless.

As he took each step, voices echoed within the void. Voices of Sothis during the many times she had communicated with him, played out.

It made him feel nostalgic in a way, hearing her voice again despite her not being there. No matter how hard he tried to establish communication, there was nothing but silence that received his calls.

He reached the top of the steps only to find an empty pedestal where Sothis' throne once stood, the voices also stopped. Byleth scoffed, he should have expected this already yet why does he feel so disheartened? Disappointed?

Why was he pulled back into this realm in the first place? He held out hope that someone was here waiting for him the moment he returned to it. Was this just merely a dream that holds no meaning after all?

"Sothis." Byleth called to no avail.

He sighed, and should have expected silence once again but this time, he decided to relay out something that has been bugging him ever since he arrived here.

"I don't know if it is because I am still growing accustomed to the power you gave me or it is my lack of control…" Byleth began to speak as if the one who seeks wisdom is before him.

"But why couldn't I turn back time?" He questioned.

He wasn't asking about the many times that Rhea landed serious attacks on him, he was allowing such events to happen because he wanted Rhea to talk when she inevitably allowed her impulsiveness to surface and cloud her judgment.

What Byleth was questioning is the moment he got struck by arrows and blindsided by Cyril after he had defeated Rhea, he meant to turn back time when that happened so he could anticipate Cyril's attack and prevent him in rescuing Rhea, the war could have ended in that moment if Rhea's capture had been secured.

Again, silence merely answered his questions and at that moment, Byleth had given up. There's no one here anymore except him. The loud and berating Goddess that once inhabited this place is long gone, now a part of him with her consciousness gone. He had wished to ask her about a great deal of things such as Sitri, her predecessors and the real truth of the world but that seems futile now.

He had wished to wake now and soon, blinding light began to shine on him as he felt his eyes open.

Not knowing that as he woke, someone was watching him from one of the broken off rocks in the void all this time.

Byleth's green eyes opened only to meet equally green hair and a pair of blue eyes watching him.

"Oh good, you're finally awake." Linhardt nonchalantly said after observing his former teacher waking up.

"Linhardt?" Byleth called out his name, still in a daze and soon enough felt the stinging pain of his wounds all over his body, realizing now that he had been stripped down to his pants, his torso and hands covered in bandages, some bloodied, some clean.

"Did we… win?" Byleth asked, wanting to know as quickly as possible what had become of the battle.

Linhardt gave him a sheepish look. "Of course we did, otherwise you and I would be sleeping permanently, professor."

Byleth breathed a sigh of relief, having to hold his breath for the news of what was the result of the battle he partook in, feeling a weight off of his chest besides the pain he was feeling all over.

"I'll tell the others you are finally awake." Linhardt said that was followed with a yawn. "Everyone is eager to hear about your awakening."

Before Byleth could ask further of things that he wanted to know immediately, Linhardt was quick to exit the tent that Byleth inhabited. He looked around his tent and saw his damaged armor and clothes laying on the table nearby, damaged but appears to have been cleaned.

Lastly, he saw the Sword of the Creator, motionlessly leaning on one of the tent's poles. Standing up from the bed despite the stinging pain on his body, specifically the stab he received from Rhea at his chest, one which nearly pierced his heart.

He hesitated for a bit, knowing more about the truth about himself and his predecessors, their purposes, why they were given life and why Byleth could use the sword before him without having the need for its Crest Stone.

His hand touched the handle of his sword, the slight touch of it made the Sword of the Creator glow as a reaction to his presence, a sign that Byleth is the only one to make the sword react in such a way due to bearing the Crest of Sothis herself within his body.

At least it was some form of reassurance that the sword still reacts to him in such a way which led to his anxiety of not having control of the power Sothis had bestowed upon him to lessen.

The flap to his tent opened, making Byleth turn to meet his visitor only to see a pair of relieved pink red eyes looking at him.

"Lysithea…" Byleth said, his eyes showing joy and relief to see his lover completely fine from the grueling battle they had just suffered from.

Lysithea tries to rush to embrace him, only for her to balk when she realizes that Byleth wasn't still completely healed from the damage he had sustained in his bloody duel with Rhea. As much as she wanted to hold him, she had to hold back for his sake.

Instead, Lysithea went over to him and touched his hands. Her hands were slightly cold mainly due to the cold weather that Faerghus had but they were warmed quickly thanks to Byleth's warm hands.

Then, without a word, both leaned closer to kiss each other either as a loving gesture or one to share relief that both were generally fine. The two then sat down on the bed within the tent with Lysithea touching his cheek only for Byleth to wince after the bruises he had suffered from Rhea's fists began to sting.

"S-Sorry." Lysithea apologized, looking around until she saw the item she was looking for at the table where Byleth's things were. She took a small round wooden container with a lid on top, opening it and dipped her fingers into the ointment inside.

"Manuela gave this to relieve the bruises on your body." Lysithea explained the purpose of the ointment she had taken before sitting down beside Byleth and carefully applying the ointment on his bruises.

"How is everyone?" Byleth asked, feeling Lysithea's fingertips lightly touching the bruises on his cheek, being extra careful with the ointment, soon enough Byleth felt the stings all over his face but he resisted the temptation to wince.

"Everyone made it out in one piece, suffered some injuries here and there but nothing life threatening. The Kingdom's army is broken, only the Church of Seiros retreated to Fhirdiad." Lysithea said and saw the slight relieved smile Byleth had after hearing such news.

"And Edelgard?"

Lysithea stopped for a moment before continuing.

"She's… fine but I don't know if she's emotionally okay…"

Byleth knew what Lysithea was referring to, having known of Edelgard's past with Dimitri and the connection that both had. He was glad that she won her battle against the King but worried how such a battle and outcome had affected the Emperor.

"How so?" Byleth asked, having questioned Edelgard prior to the battle if she can bring herself to confront a figure of her past and have a battle to the death with him, something Edelgard responded affirmatively with no hesitation.

Lysithea looked down on the wooden canister of the ointment. "I know when she's lying about her feelings… there was something with her that felt off…"

Byleth nodded, deciding to pay the Emperor a visit later but first he scanned Lysithea who was quick to notice him staring at her, as if looking for something.

"W-What?"

"It doesn't seem you're hurt." Byleth said with a look of relief, feeling his protective urges for Lysithea kick in, bits of mud stained her dress but there was none of blood on it.

"I didn't see much battle as the Kingdom Army surrendered after Dimitri's defeat while the Knights of Seiros retreated after Rhea was rescued by…" Lysithea trailed off as she remembered the name of the man that delayed the end of this war for another day.

"Cyril." Byleth finished Lysithea's sentence for her, his eyes narrowing at the mention of the man that he once thought of as nothing but a boy led to fanatically believe and serve Rhea.

"Yes, Cyril." Lysithea said with a saddened tone, having had to encounter someone she considered her friend back in the days of the Academy. Byleth took note of her sudden change in mood at the mention of the Almyran and also recalled how the two regarded each other before Byleth lost consciousness.

Something happened between the two and his gut feeling was telling him there was something else beyond the friendship they once shared that he had observed back in Garreg Mach.

"I noticed something before I lost consciousness…"

"What is it?" Lysithea asked as she started to again delicately apply some ointment for the pain on Byleth's bruises and cuts on his face, making sure she wasn't hurting him.

"That boy, Cyril. He seemed… conflicted seeing you."

Lysithea abruptly paused just as she was about finished with the ointment.

"Wasn't he your friend?" Byleth asked her, noticing the visible sorrow in his lover's eyes.

The snow haired girl looked down on the ground that Byleth's tent covered, thinking of her tumultuous relationship with Cyril ever since the war started…

And considering how their reunion prior to Tailtean Plains ended, she didn't think they'll be considered as friends anymore. Especially after he had confessed to her about his feelings for her, feelings that may as well be of hatred towards her for rejecting him.

"I know what you feel, in this war we've fought against people we know or once considered our friends… it must have been hard for you, Lysithea." Byleth thought, remembering his own amicable interactions with Shamir, Catherine and Claude in the past.

Should she tell him? That was what is currently in Lysithea's mind, telling him about how Cyril attempted to "save" her, falsely thinking she was blackmailed by Edelgard to serve the Empire and how he subsequently confessed to her as another reason to come with him.

"Byleth, I need to tell you something about Cyril." Lysithea said, having decided to come clean with this. She had told Edelgard about this so why shouldn't she tell her lover about it even if a part of her feels concerned in how Byleth would react in regards to jealousy.

"I'm listening."

Taking a deep breath, Lysithea collected herself and gripped the canister tightly within her hands.

"Cyril and I met within the five years that you were gone." Lysithea started. "It was during that time that I had that fight with Edelgard, you know what I am referring to."

Byleth nodded, recalling the story recounted to him of what became Edelgard and Lysithea's worst argument which culminated with Lysithea slapping the Emperor across the face following the exchange of heated words against each other.

"During that time I fled the Palace of Enbarr, I had a chance encounter with him. He was spying within the city and he just found me by chance. It is there that he…" Lysithea hesitated for a brief moment and then decided to just say it out.

"He confessed to me that he loved me ever since Garreg Mach and that he was there to also rescue me.."

"And you rejected him." Byleth pointed out, otherwise Lysithea wouldn't be with him at this time and they wouldn't be in their newfound relationship together.

Lysithea nodded. "I rejected him, I just couldn't see it. Me and him, we were just friends… at some point in our lives."

Then, she nervously looked at Byleth's reaction, and what his expression would be following this revelation from her. To her surprise, she saw something from him for the first time: the look of jealousy.

It was as if he was feeling the emotion yet could not comprehend why he is feeling it, his face slightly contorting and his hands balled fists together. It was obvious that he felt some kind of enmity towards the Almyran after hearing the story or maybe how Cyril had knocked him out earlier, probably both.

"Byleth?"

He looked at her before forcing a smile. "I certainly did not expect to hear that, what more, feel like this." Byleth admitted as he looked at his shaky hands.

"Is this jealousy?" He questioned, utterly puzzled at what he was feeling. Lysithea was just stunned, unable to formulate a response as she saw the very first time that Byleth had felt such an emotion for he had nothing to fear regarding losing her to another man, especially the likes of Cyril.

It somehow looked cute for Lysithea, in a twisted way when she saw him react as such and this made her giggle much to Byleth's confusion.

"I'm sorry, it's just that I'm not used to seeing you like this. I never pictured you to be the jealous type."

Before Byleth could respond, Lysithea rested her head on his shoulder. Her hands touched his hands to soothe him and stop the shaking.

"You have nothing to worry about, Byleth." Lysithea reassured him, her hands smoothly massaging Byleth's hands to comfort him. "I'm already yours and you're mine."

Byleth's eyes softened, accepting her reassurance as his newfound jealous emotion had calmed down. He rested the side of his head on top of Lysithea's, both leaning on to each other for support and it felt nice, for the moment made Byleth forget about the pain all over his body, the flaring emotions he's been having specifically anxiety of his powers, frustration from Rhea escaping him and jealousy and anger towards Cyril.

He had forgotten about those for a brief moment, if anything he needed this distraction. He wanted to forget about what he had learned about his mother and her predecessors in the meantime, Sothis knows he needed this moment of respite following such a harrowing battle against Rhea and the many beatings he had to take to get here.

Unaware that Lysithea was feeling a sense of anxious dread on what will inevitably come when they arrive in Fhirdiad to put an end to the Church of Seiros' hold on Fodlan for good.

Lysithea knows that Cyril will definitely be there to protect Rhea until his last breath, remembering the Almyran's last words to her back in Enbarr after he was forced to leave her behind following her rejection of him.

"But if I see you in the battlefield on the side of those against Lady Rhea, I will not hesitate."

His words echoed within Lysithea's mind and the pained look he gave her was all she could see when she closed her eyes. She will have to face him again and she knows in her heart that Fhirdiad may as well be their last meeting.

Edelgard, despite the advice Manuela had given her to not move too much as to let the medicine and healing magic do its work, chose to move around the camp her army had built in between Tailtean Plains and Fhirdiad.

She had heard from Linhardt that Byleth had awoken from the injuries he had suffered, something she had taken relief upon after seeing the state of his injured body when he was carried to be given immediate medical attention. The look of worry on Lysithea's face as she accompanied the healers was something Edelgard vividly remembered. She had expected Byleth's battle with Rhea to be a brutal one but she didn't think it would be like that in Byleth's state.

Dorothea had visited her earlier but Edelgard instead told her to go and help tend to the wounded, insisting to her lover that she's fine. Hubert was also a stubborn one for figuring out the logistics of their army despite the injured ribs he had suffered. Ferdinand is somewhere around, trying to help whenever he can.

She approached a tent, guarded by Imperial soldiers who both stepped aside to allow their Emperor passage into the tent they were guarding. Both guards gave strict orders not to allow anyone inside this tent except for certain ones.

Entering the tent wordlessly, Edelgard approached the only furniture within it: a wooden long table.

And there was a corpse lying on top of it, covered by a bloodstained blanket from top to bottom. The interior of the tent smelled as it was expected to be, of blood and dirt.

Edelgard lifted the blanket for a bit to glimpse at the corpse underneath it, her eyes unchanging as she caught sight of it.

There lay Dimitri's corpse, the head that she severed from his neck earlier, having been sewn back and layers of bandages wrapped around the spot where Edelgard cut through with the Aymr. His eyes were still slightly open, his expression still contorted to that of one feeling bitter resentment, the last expression he had before Edelgard killed him.

Those lifeless azure eyes of his was something Edelgard stared at, for a moment she recalled the way these eyes regarded her before the war started: warm, caring and happy. Such were replaced by polar opposites when the war began and the lies Dimitri had come to believe became truths for him.

There was nothing she could do for him anymore, the Dimitri she knew and loved was gone even before she severed his head from his shoulders and the Edelgard that Dimitri knew and loved had died a long time ago.

She had come to accept that a long time ago yet why…?

Why do tears fall from her eyes now?

The Edelgard who shed tears over this should have died already, that part of her life is gone now and she had severed the last vestiges of it away with her own hands.

She didn't bother to wipe the tears, she instead placed her right hand over Dimitri's eyes and gently closed them as her hand brushed over his face, his eyes now closed and his expression more at peace than earlier.

"I'm sorry." Edelgard whispered to Dimitri. "I couldn't save you from what happened after we separated and from yourself."

She then took the dagger she had kept with her for so long, the dagger that the deceased king had given to her during their days of innocence. She then placed the dagger over to his armor's chest area and moved his hands to hold it over his chest.

"Farewell Dimitri." Edelgard bid him, turning around as she wiped away the last set of tears she would ever shed for the fallen king.

"If only we were born in a time of peace, you and I…" Edelgard paused for a moment. "... you might have lived a joyful life as a benevolent ruler."

And for Edelgard, she wished this was the last sacrifice she had to make to move forward to the future she and her comrades had been fighting for. She turned around to give Dimitri one last look before she left the tent and the last remnants of her past behind.

Rhea's hands shook at the letter she was holding as Catherine, Gilbert and Cyril watched her shake in front of the fireplace in the room that used to be occupied by the lords of Faerghus a few months ago, now there was no one else besides them.

"I did not expect her to give us a day before she begins her siege." Catherine noted, being the first one to read the letter that Edelgard had sent to them earlier via messenger.

The letter was Edelgard demanding Rhea's unconditional surrender, a promise that the Knights of Seiros will no longer be harmed if they surrendered and as well as a request from the Emperor to give Dimitri a proper burial within the royal crypts of Faerghus, to give the deceased king the respect and customs deserving of his status.

The letter arrived with the cart that carried Dimitri's cleaned corpse as a courtesy for the people of Fhirdiad to properly grieve and give their king their last respects.

Catherine then looked out the window of the room, seeing the blurry fires that dotted the camp of the Imperial Army not too far away from Fhirdiad.

"Has the people of Fhirdiad been told about His Majesty's funeral tonight?" Gilbert asked, his depressed eyes looking towards Catherine.

"I took the liberty, yes." Catherine replied. "It was the least we could do for King Dimitri. He fought for us until the bitter end. I had wished we could have done the same for him in return." Catherine lamented.

"She may have given us His Majesty's body but she kept the Areadbhar with her." Gilbert lamented at the loss of House Blaiddyd's relic and the symbol of office of the Kings of Faerghus.

"That means little to us now."

All eyes went back on Rhea when they heard her crumple the letter from Edelgard before tossing it on to the fire, watching the crumpled paper burn as Rhea looked on with vindictive eyes.

"She mocks us by giving a day to grieve and to consider surrendering as if confident of her victory." Rhea growled, her hands balled into fists.

"Lady Rhea, I think we must retreat somewhere outside of Fodlan–"

"And go where, Catherine?" Rhea questioned the captain of her knights. "We leave Fodlan, we may as well have handed it over freely to Edelgard and her Empire."

Catherine was taken aback. "I didn't mean it that way, Lady Rhea. If we retreated, we may have a better chance to recover, rally our cause and one retake Fodlan–"

"Never." Rhea said as she turned to glare at Catherine. "I will never allow that blasphemous harlot's words to take root in Fodlan, I will not give her such a chance in the event that I flee Fodlan."

The Knight Captain merely bowed, having heard of Rhea's final say on the matter. She was duty bound to honor her judgment in such matters despite her own opinion. She tried to look at Gilbert for support but only saw depression and silent resignation in his eyes as if the man had truly lost everything in his life.

Then, her eyes went to Cyril who bore a firm and resolute look as he watched Rhea's back, the Almyran looked like he was still confident that they could still win this war while Rhea's drive to fight remained intact. Catherine wished that she still bore the same fire that Cyril has in his eyes but as one of the commanders of… what remained of the resistance against the Empire, she couldn't help but be concerned about the overwhelming odds that they are up against.

The majority of the Kingdom Army had either been slain, surrendered or deserted following the crushing defeat they have suffered in Tailtean Plains, the Knights of Seiros suffered less casualties but their forces are merely a paltry sum in comparison to what the Empire has at their disposal.

Not to mention the many skilled and renowned people fighting under Edelgard were still intact while they only had a handful remaining.

Was there still any hope to stave off the Empire and to fight for another day?

For Cyril, he knew that the only way to break the hopes of the Empire for this war was to kill both Edelgard and Byleth, and he was hellbent into killing the latter for a myriad of reasons. He could have killed Byleth earlier but his mission to rescue Rhea in the event of her defeat was more of a pressing and urgent matter to attend to, not to mention that he could have been swarmed by the Imperial Army if he tarried on longer than he should have.

This time, Cyril is ready and will make sure to end him once and for all. It is what Byleth and those who followed him and Edelgard deserves… even if one of them was someone he had once loved.

As for Rhea, her eyes stared at the fireplace before her, her pupils turning into slits as she could think of nothing but to kill Edelgard and Byleth no matter the cost, especially the latter for the atrocities he had committed and the many times that he had wronged her. The wounds he gave her both physical and emotional, she will pay back to him many times over.

In the end, all of her enemies will burn in the fires of torment, into the fiery depths of hell itself and it will be her pleasure to personally send them there if she could.

As her sanity gradually slipped, Rhea could only think of one thing she would do to everyone, her eyes staring obsessively at the raging fire.

They will all burn. Every single one of them.

The Imperial Army stood tall before the gates of Fhirdiad, standing tall and strong despite the vast army that seeks to breach through it. The dark clouds hovered above the city forebodingly. Edelgard and the others were quick to notice the lack of soldiers manning the walls, there were only few archers and what is more evident is that most of the soldiers ready to defend the Kingdom's capital were of the Knights of Seiros rather than the soldiers loyal to Faerghus.

Edelgard looked back at her army, catching sight of the Black Eagle Strike Force first, their wounds may have been tended to but the fatigue from the previous battle still lingered within their very bones and the same can be said for the Imperial soldiers. All of them have all agreed to besiege Faerghus without delay to finally end this five year long war and to prevent Rhea from ever escaping again.

Something that Byleth had blamed himself for for his negligence in not anticipating Cyril's untimely rescue of the defeated Archbishop. The same Byleth still hasn't fully recovered from his more grievous injuries, healing magic and medicine can only heal as much with the time they had between Tailtean Plains and this upcoming battle.

Edelgard gave Byleth a nod before she turned her attention back at the mighty gates, Aymr in hand, she stepped forward.

"Rhea! Members of the Church of Seiros! Surely there's no reason to continue this fight. What could possibly be gained by shutting yourselves inside the capital of a kingdom without a king?" Edelgard implored the meager amount of Fhirdiad's defenders in a last ditch effort to make this battle easier if possible, knowing Rhea and her inner circle will never yield to her.

"I will give you this one chance...and no other. Throw down your weapons and surrender! Unlike you, I have no desire to unleash wicked atrocities upon this world!" She said in finality, slamming the pommel of the Aymr's handle on the ground to make her point.

There was silence, the Knights of Seiros manning the walls were all stone faced and unflinching despite the overwhelming odds and the last offer of mercy from Edelgard.

Hubert came forward to approach the Emperor, still holding on to his ribs, feeling slight pain in them from earlier.

"Their silence speaks volumes. Shall we commence our attack?" Hubert asked as Byleth also came forward, Sword of the Creator in hand, glowing and pulsating with power from its wielder.

"Rhea and those closest to her will not surrender." Byleth said, his green eyes glaring straight at the gate, knowing that the foe who had escaped him earlier is just beyond it. "I expected the others that weren't really loyal to her to begin with would have surrendered or fled the city by now."

Edelgard's eyes were glued at the gates as well, her mind telling her that something seemed off.

"I'll wait just a moment longer. There are still many residents within the city." Edelgard mentioned the fact that the Church of Seiros never allowed the citizens of Fhirdiad to evacuate in order to avoid them from becoming collateral damage in the siege that is about to unfold.

"Unlike my attack at Garreg Mach five years ago, the church will not allow the inhabitants to evacuate." Edelgard continued.

"What the hell are they planning…" She wondered, trying to imagine what could possibly be Rhea's plan in getting out of this impossible situation. If she had wanted to, she could have just flown away from Fhirdiad by transforming into the Immaculate One but why hasn't she?

Catherine observed the Imperial Army, all lined up and ready to besiege Fhirdiad by the gates, all looking battle hardened and completely resolved to end this war. The looks upon their faces both tell Catherine that the Imperial Army was confident to win this battle, having been emboldened by the victory they had attained in Tailtean Plains.

There was also some form of relief upon them as if this battle that is about to occur wouldn't be as challenging as the previous one.

Normally, these expressions would also lift Catherine's spirit up but only if it was for the side she was fighting for. Instead, she's seeing these faces as a grim reminder of the impending doom that is about to be unleashed upon them.

The Knight Captain turned to Rhea, glaring at the direction where the Imperial Army is as Catherine approached her, Cyril had the same look as Rhea did as he stayed by her side, his wyvern just behind him awaiting his next move.

"Lady Rhea...Or rather, Lady Seiros." Catherine addressed her liege, still confused if she would stick to calling her the way she had known for most of her years in service or to call her upon the moniker that Rhea had imposed upon herself or rather, her true identity.

"The Imperial army is calling for our surrender. Is it wise to ignore them? Perhaps we could leave Fodlan and devise another plan…"

All that Catherine received was a defiant glare despite her valid concerns.

"We shall not surrender. We must not lose! Even if it must split the heavens, we shall not yield to the wicked ones!" Rhea said, her pupils becoming slits as a response to the maddening rage she is feeling.

There was none of the serene grace that Rhea once maintained, there was only unbridled fury and a frenzy to hurt those who had wronged her. A far cry of the Archbishop that Catherine had devoted her life to to protect and serve.

Catherine had heard from hushed whispers of how Rhea's sanity has been questioned many times ever since Byleth betrayed her and Garreg Mach fell to the Empire. The measures Rhea took against those who felt a bit of sympathy for the Empire's propaganda, the sacrifice of lives under their command to take back Garreg Mach several times and how she was prone to a fit of rants whenever Edelgard or Byleth was mentioned to her in private.

That and the confusing order from Rhea that Catherine and the others will not march with them in Tailtean Plains, all because the Archbishop was certain she could accomplish her vendetta against Byleth alone. It was only by Cyril's initiative that she was even rescued.

But even then, Catherine held out hope that when the day comes when the likes of Edelgard and Byleth both fall, the Rhea that Catherine knew and served devotedly will return back once more, a graceful smile on her lips. That is the only thing that she clings to now besides the defeat of the heretics of Adrestia.

"Understood... I will do as you command. You have my fealty no matter what, until my last moment of life." She said, reaffirming her loyalty to Rhea despite the overwhelming odds stacked against them.

Cyril also turned to Rhea, giving her a nod of reassurance that he will never forsake her as well.

"I'll stay by your side too...forever." The Almyran affirmed, fully resolved within his orange eyes that he will fight for her no matter the cost it may incur, even his own humanity if need be. The same fervor that Catherine wished she still had.

Rhea gave the Almyran a nod of acknowledgement before turning her eyes towards Catherine, uttering an order that Catherine never thought was possible to emerge from Rhea's lips.

"Now, Catherine. Set fire to the city." Rhea ordered as Catherine's eyes widened slowly in response.

Did she hear her right? Did Rhea just order her to set Fhirdiad ablaze… with its citizens inside? Citizens that she had suggested to Rhea to evacuate when Rhea made it clear that she will never surrender or flee from the Imperial Army again despite it being the more sound strategy with the evacuation of the innocent being the moral one.

"The Imperial army will burn in the flames of eternal torment!" Rhea declared, her hands clenched in fists, her entire body shaking in the wrath that she is about to unleash upon her enemies.

It was at this time that Catherine had uttered words that she never imagined saying to Rhea.

"What?! No, you can't do that!" Catherine shouted, unable to even fathom the idea of burning an entire city filled with people who didn't want nor participated in the war in the first place, people that they have sworn to defend against the tyrannical conquest of the Empire.

Rhea didn't even look at her as her eyes focused on the direction of the Imperial Army.

"Catherine. Now." Her tone with those words telling Catherine that she should obey her immediately, not taking no for an answer anymore or perhaps not caring anymore.

"As…" Catherine trailed off, barely restraining the urge to defy the person she devoted herself to. "As you wish…" But maybe there was still some hope to change her mind.

One last bit of hope, tap into the last vestiges of the compassion that Rhea had once exhibited to those who followed her.

"But is there truly no other way?" It didn't even sound like a question but more of a plea from Catherine, to make Rhea think her decision through but Rhea never even blinked nor looked at her.

"I have no patience for foolish questions. I shall sacrifice as many lives as it takes!" Rhea declared as a green glow had begun to emanate and shroud her, her eyes glowing green as Rhea's voice began to echo for every single sound that escaped her lips.

"That apostate who insists on taking everything from me...will be crushed by my own hands!" Rhea declared and with that, Catherine and Cyril were both blinded by a brief flash of green light followed by a guttural roar of a great winged beast in Rhea's place. Sharp teeth gnashed together as she unleashed a shockwave after completing her transformation.

It was at this moment that Catherine made a decision that she knows she will regret, she knew and yet went through with it. She didn't know what prompted her to do as Rhea had demanded, she even allowed an invasive thought within her head that she should have just drawn Thunderbrand and cut Rhea down with it in order to protect the people she had once vowed to serve as a member of House Charon but fear had compelled her to obey.

Before she could even give out the order, Cyril had already taken torches and passed one to her wordlessly. In her horror, Catherine could see how unbothered the Almyran was, his eyes were even resolved to follow through Rhea's orders as if they are of the most absolute, not caring of the innocent lives that will cost this or in their conscience.

Without even waiting for Catherine, Cyril had given out Rhea's orders to the knights as Catherine merely stood in silence and shock as to what was about to happen. She looked at the white dragon that is Rhea's true form: The Immaculate One for one last desperate plea to dissuade her but the winged monster didn't even acknowledge her.

Then, the smell of smoke and fire infiltrated her nostrils.

It was too late. The burning of Fhirdiad had already begun with the homes and lives of the people living in it, the kindling to the flame.

Soon, the screams of many confused and panicked people shrieked all over the city, haunting the once silent city into a mad symphony of agony, death and grief.

The roar that spread all over Fhirdiad and its outskirts was heard by everyone in the Imperial Army, many of them having been reminded of the horrific roar of the beast that caused Byleth to disappear for five years and nearly leveled Garreg Mach as a result.

Lysithea was perhaps the most horrified one, having witnessed Byleth's fall after she had heard that roar and the white monster from whence it came. She didn't want such an event to ever happen again, not this time especially when she had so much to lose now.

"That ghastly voice…" Edelgard said, alerted after hearing Rhea's roars echoing around Fhirdiad.

Byleth's eyes narrowed, finally hearing the roar of the beast that had once sent him into a deep slumber that made him miss five years of the lives of the people he cared for.

Then, red orange lights began to glow around different parts of the city until smoke could be seen rising followed by the scent of something burning and then the screams of many within the city.

An Imperial soldier rushed towards the Emperor, bowing before delivering an urgent report with a hastened tone.

"Your Majesty! There's smoke coming from every corner of the capital! It seems they've set fire to the city!" He said, sounding even horrified at the atrocity that had just happened within the city that they were meant to siege.

Everyone who has heard of the news had their eyes widened at the revelation, the revelation that the defenders of Fhirdiad themselves seem to have set the fire themselves while the innocent citizens of Fhirdiad were still inside their homes.

"Damn it, Rhea. There really is no depth you wouldn't sink into." Edelgard gritted her teeth, she knew she had to act now. Negotiations be damned at this point, this siege they were expecting to be easier than Tailtean Plains had just become more daunting than it should have been.

"Everyone, we must commence our attack at once. Are you ready?" She asked, looking at each and everyone of her lieutenants and commanding officers of her army.

Hubert was the one to speak for them. "Preparations are complete. Just say the word."

"Then we attack. We'll head straight for the castle and strike down their leader, Rhea–" Edelgard shook her head, knowing the monster who they are about to face now. "that vile creature called the Immaculate One! The capital we're about to invade is engulfed in flames. Do not rush to your deaths. Survive. Prevail. Understood?"

The entirety of the Imperial Army rallied together with a war cry of both determination and anger, the latter of which for what the Church of Seiros has done to the citizens of Fhirdiad, an insane bid to deter them from effectively taking over their last stronghold at the bizarre cost of innocent lives they were meant to defend.

Byleth stepped forward, his green eyes glaring at the gates, knowing what lies beyond it are the burning homes of the anguished people of Fhirdiad, the desperate knights, Cyril and lastly, Rhea and her last stand.

"Let's win this…" He turned to Edelgard and his comrades. "Together!"

"Imperial Army, Black Eagle Strike Force! Move out! Kill any member of the Church of Seiros you see and save any innocent lives as you can within the blaze!" Edelgard raised the Aymr above before pointing towards the shut gates of Fhirdiad. This siege has also become an emergency rescue mission for Fhirdiad's people.

"For the fate of Fodlan!"

With that, the Imperial Army let out a war cry before charging forward. Hubert turned to the squad of mages led by Lysithea and Dorothea who both commanded the mages under them to prepare for one powerful spell together.

Using the gloomy sky above them to their advantage, the mages collectively called upon the lightning from the skies to rain upon them, the bolts of lightning then shrouded the mages with its power.

"Now!" Lysithea cried out as she and the mages fired off a massive and concentrated bolt of lightning towards the gates of Fhirdiad. The gates were blasted open, paving the way for the Imperial Army to get in and finally put an end to this madness that Rhea had caused.

"Help me!"

"My daughter's still inside the house!"

"Why?! Why have they done this?!"

"You were all supposed to protect us!"

"Goddess please have mercy on us!"

The pleas and cries of the people of Fhirdiad were heard over the raging fire and battles that is concurrently happening between the Imperial Army and the Knights of Seiros. It was nearly maddening to hear the people beg for someone or something to save them while the stench of burning blood and of immolated corpses has begun to invade everyone's noses.

It was sickening to the stomach and the mind, what the Church of Seiros has done under Rhea's orders to the people of Fhirdiad. Many in the Imperial Army still couldn't fathom what came over in Rhea's mind, what little sense did the Knights of Seiros had left in them to commit such an atrocity without question and still fight for the now obviously maddened Archbishop.

"Help me open this door!" Byleth came upon a soldier of Faerghus trying to get a door open in one of the burning houses, desperately doing so as Imperial soldiers surrounded him with weapons drawn.

"No! I'm not your enemy! I'm trying to save my people trapped inside!" The soldier pleaded, desperation present within his eyes but the Imperial soldiers were all wary as this could just be an act.

"Help him." Byleth said as the Imperial soldiers looked at him questioningly. "He speaks the truth, there are people inside that house."

"T-Thank y–"

"Tell me, why did Rhea do this? Why did you all allow this to happen?" Byleth asked, his glare fixated at the soldier.

"I-I don't know, I swear!" The soldier pleaded his case as the fire raged around them. "A lot of us wanted to leave and evacuate the city after we heard of King Dimitri's defeat in Tailtean Plains. We knew the war had been lost but that… that bitch of an Archbishop threatened to have us killed if anyone planned on deserting her! Before we knew it, she ordered every Knight of Seiros to torch the city! Any of my fellow soldiers who tried to protest and stop them were killed on the spot!"

Byleth gritted his teeth after hearing the soldier's explanation, he then wordlessly gestured to him to go as Byleth went ahead. Upon walking up the stairs littered with charred debris, he was face to face against the dreaded mechanical constructs of the Church of Seiros. A mechanical construct that has been reported to have participated in Tailtean Plains as part of the army Rhea led.

The metallic monster conjured a lance made out of light to strike Byleth down, only for the former professor to roll on to his side and then used the whip form of the Sword of the Creator to land a deep gash across it's chest, severely damaging whatever mechanism it has that makes it function within. Having fought the Titanus of Cornelia beforehand, Byleth had some experience in fighting such constructs.

"Byleth!"

He turned around to see Lysithea, Thyrsus in hand and a Levin Sword in another.

"I lost you within the blaze." Lysithea said as she came to his side, catching sight of the golem that Byleth had just destroyed. She looked around her, seeing nothing but fire destroying everything it touches. Despite the infamous cold of Faerghus, there was none of such as there was only sweltering heat caused by the fire. It would take an extended rainfall to extinguish such consuming flames.

"This is just terrible." Lysithea commented as she and Byleth walked, their goal of heading where Rhea's continuous roars were coming from, no doubt that is also where Edelgard is heading to after she and a number of their comrades were separated from them after a burning building crashed and the fire spread, forcing them to find other ways to get to Rhea.

"The soldiers loyal to Dimitri didn't even know about this until it was too late." Byleth said, recalling the story of the soldier he had interrogated and let go earlier. "Everyone in the city was forbidden by Rhea to leave under the threat of death. By the time the soldiers of the Kingdom knew what Rhea had ordered her knights to, several of them tried to stop it but were killed immediately."

"T-That's… I can't imagine… what is even going on in Rhea and her followers' minds?!" Lysithea cried out, aghast at how such people who were once known as people of faith and providers of charity had committed such heinous crimes.

"Desperation." Byleth answered. "Desperation and madness. Rhea is so desperate that she orders an entire city burned to trap all her opponents in and hopefully get them killed by the fire… Madness because she has been steadily losing her mind and her loss and what she had learned from me back in Tailtean Plains seemed to have broken any vestige of sanity she had left." Byleth explained the only true conclusion.

"And the knights? What possessed them to even follow through such an outrageous order?" Lysithea asked, looking grimly as a number of citizens passed by them, accompanied by Imperial soldiers helping them escape the city.

"Faith? Spite? Blind loyalty?" Byleth guessed but none of it matters, what matters now to him and the Imperial Army is the fact that every one of them deserves to pay for what they had just done to the people of Fhirdiad. There was no quarter left for them anymore as Edelgard had declared earlier when the siege began.

"We must find Rhea and put an end to this madness once and for all–"

"Byleth, watch out!" Lysithea shouted out when she saw a winged figure descending down upon Byleth.

As if expecting it, Byleth was quick to parry several arrows from above, swatting them away with his sword before jumping back, his eyes looking above to see a wyvern descending down before him, dispersing the fire where it landed with the flap of its wings.

The wyvern growled at Byleth, baring its teeth which threatened to chomp Byleth with it.

"Is attacking me when I'm not looking the only way for you to land a hit on me?" Byleth asked almost mockingly as if knowing who was riding the wyvern before him. Lysithea peered closer until a familiar Almyran appeared, glaring at them after showing himself behind the wyvern's head.

Cyril growled at the missed opportunity, thinking of how it went wrong for him in not taking Byleth by surprise this time while he was distracted by his burning surroundings and the thickening smoke caused by the raging fire he himself helped cause.

"Cyril…" Lysithea murmured, not surprised by his appearance as she had predicted his presence to be a certainty here, she expected this confrontation to happen but it still made her sad all the same.

"Lysithea." Cyril acknowledged Lysithea's presence, there was a brief moment of conflict in his eyes before it all disappeared when his eyes turned back to Byleth who gestured his hand towards Lysithea not to get involved in this fight.

"Don't interfere or else I will be forced to kill you." Cyril told Lysithea, his bow readily in hand.

Everything, this encounter and this situation of Cyril confronting Byleth with Lysithea with a place under siege felt eerily familiar with their encounter back when Edelgard besieged Garreg Mach. Such memories were something that Cyril bitterly remembered, memories that reminded Cyril of his weakness and how far above Byleth was in battle.

But this time, it will be different. Five years have passed, he has gotten more powerful than before and he has learned a lot from training and guidance by his mentor, Shamir, who was killed by the very same person in front of him. Another reason why Cyril feels more motivated to kill Byleth once and for all besides the other myriad of reasons.

"Why Cyril?" Lysithea asked, her voice trying to restrain any emotion beside confusion and sadness. "Why did you let this happen? What possessed you and the knights to burn this city with its people in it?"

The Almyran looked undeterred by the sorrowful confusion in Lysithea's eyes as if he didn't care anymore about why he did what he and the Knights of Seiros did under Rhea's orders.

"Because Lady Rhea ordered it." Cyril replied with coldness. "It was the only way for us to defeat all of you… Especially you." Cyril pointed at Byleth.

"By attacking and involving the very people who you are allied and sworn to protect?!" Lysithea asked as confusion turned to revulsion, not believing what she's hearing from the same Almyran who she formed a friendship with and mentored in terms of improving his literacy.

"You all forced Lady Rhea's hands on this." Cyril responded. "If it weren't for you, she may never have resorted to this."

Byleth scoffed at this. "You're blaming me… us… for something that you doggedly obeyed without a single thought?" Byleth challenged, his anger was beginning to surface but he kept it at bay, not wanting it to take over him like Rhea does despite his feelings against Cyril and what he and his fellow knights had done.

"Isn't that your fault? How you had pushed her away time and time again?" Cyril rebuked.

"Then, you're a deluded fool." Byleth sharply told him which seemed to make him flinch in anger. "I spared you five years ago at Lysithea's request. But.."

Byleth pointed the glowing Sword of the Creator towards Cyril. "But you won't get the same chance again this time." He told him, his eyes piercing straight through the seething Almyran's.

"I won't be the one who will be begging for mercy." Cyril spat at him with bared teeth grinding against each other, taking out an arrow to aim at Byleth after rearing his wyvern up using the reins.

"Good, because I don't intend to even make you beg for it." Byleth responded coolly, he briefly glanced at Lysithea. "Go, Lysithea. You don't have to see this." He firmly told his lover, not wanting her to at least experience the pain of having to see someone she once considered a friend, to die by his hands.

Lysithea silently shook her head. She couldn't say it but she has to witness this, to see this through, the path she chose and the consequences it merited. But could she still consider Cyril a friend of hers right after what he and his allies have done? Those memories of the young boy almost her age that she taught and bonded with in the Academy, murked by the ashes of what was done to Fhirdiad.

Catherine could only look in horror at what she had allowed to happen: the people of Fhirdiad screaming for help and mercy as they scrambled in confusion at their burning city, the fire and smoke having tarnished any familiarity they once had as they struggled to find the gates out of the city.

She once walked alongside them within these walls before her exile and new identity as Catherine the Knight Captain of the Knights of Seiros. She could scarcely believe that she would take part in destroying the very capital of the Kingdom she had once sworn fealty to.

The continuous pleas were deafening for her as well as the sight of the Knights of Seiros continuing to spread the fire and kill any Kingdom soldier or citizen trying to fight or stop them from further worsening the blaze.

She wanted to yell at them to stop, to lift her blade and defend the innocent people who did nothing wrong, to make the knights under her command see the atrocity they had committed. But no voice came out from her lips, no strength was found in her arms to even lift Thunderbrand, it even failed to glow as a response to the Crest that she possessed due to the lack of resolve she has found herself in.

Just like earlier, she couldn't find it in herself to resist and defy Rhea's order. She had the opportunity to prevent this madness from ever happening, all she had to do was to step forward and cut down Rhea while her back was turned but Catherine never found the willpower to do so. She had always believed that what she had done in the service of Rhea and the Church of Seiros was all for the greater good of everyone, of Fodlan's but such a belief was shattered like glass for what Rhea had commanded. She couldn't, in any way or form, justify what she and the Knights have done.

There was no justice here, only insanity, desperation and the blood of the innocent. It was the Empire's blood that needed to be spilled, their bodies burned and souls condemned to the fires of eternity, not these people who entrusted their safety to them.

This was no holy retribution nor was it the Goddess' will. Was there even a Goddess at this point?

"Burn! Burn everything! Lady Rhea had proclaimed that fire shall burn and damn the blasphemers and those who sympathize with them! Those who are faithful to the Goddess will instead have their entire being cleansed by the flames!" A knight fanatically proclaimed as he threw a torch to another house's roof with people screaming within.

"No… this isn't right…" Catherine murmured, having had enough of what she had allowed to happen. It was time to act, to try and make things right even if it was too late… Maybe, maybe–

Without even finishing her own thoughts, Catherine witnessed the fanatical knight die by an arrow shot straight to his eye through the holes of his helmet, slowly falling down as he died and being ironically immolated by the fire he had just caused.

Catherine didn't have much time to react when she felt something powerful embed itself on her back, denting the armor on her back and then hitting the flesh and spine.

The Knight Captain could only fall down face first as her blue eyes finally caught sight of the one who had struck her from behind.

Lavender eyes glared at her in both disgust and hate. It was Edelgard, having struck her with a single but mighty swing of the Aymr from behind while Catherine's back was turned. Edelgard then removed the embedded Aymr from Catherine's back, satisfied that she had dealt a mortal blow to the Knight Captain before kicking away the Thunderbrand from Catherine's grasp, having weakly held onto it as she fell.

Catherine could only look at Edelgard, unable to move or even speak anymore, her blood pooling around her, her body twitching uncontrollably.

She waited for the Emperor to say something of vitriolic nature, to condemn her for her part in what she had done to the city or more accurately, allow it to happen. No matter the case, there was nothing to absolve her from this crime and she didn't expect any of it.

Contrary to what the fanatical knight had proclaimed earlier, he and Catherine alongside the other knights both deserved nothing but death and the condemnation of their souls to the eternal fires of hell.

She waited for Edelgard to speak, wanting to tell her in response to stop Rhea and what she had wrought into the city but Edelgard merely glared her down with contempt before moving forward. Catherine could hear someone take hold of Thunderbrand as her life withered away, her blood sizzling from the fire, the last thing she has ever seen.

The wrathful roar of the monster that was Rhea, the last thing she has heard.

Her last thoughts being that she died a coward.

Within the roars from Rhea, the many screams and the fire, Byleth was moving around either dodging or parrying away Cyril's arrows as the latter flew above the city, purposely trying to be out of reach for Byleth's attacks even with the Sword of the Creator's whip form. While Cyril was noticeably less skilled than Claude when it comes to airborne mounted marksmanship, Cyril made use of the burning surroundings which prevented Byleth to maneuver on to the buildings and attack him with increased elevation.

Byleth was limited with what he could do, his only ranged attacks being the handful of spells he knew and the Sword of the Creator's bladed whip. He could just wait for Cyril's arrows to run out but time is of the essence, the fire will continue to spread until there is nothing for him and Lysithea to go to where Rhea is. Or perhaps that is Cyril's plan all along, to distract Byleth long enough so he couldn't support Edelgard and the others in fighting against Rhea.

He has to find a way to force Cyril down to the ground but how? He parried another arrow let loose by Cyril until he noticed a piece of burning rubble fallen from one of Fhirdiad's buildings. Quickly devising a plan, Byleth shifted the Sword of the Creator into its whip form once again and channeled arcane magic onto his left hand.

Firing a fireball towards Cyril, the Almyran easily maneuvered with his wyvern to avoid it and when he regained sight of where Byleth was, a bolt of lightning was on its way towards him. Narrowly avoiding it once again, Cyril was beginning to lose control of his wyvern as his erratic movements have caused the wyvern to become confused. Was this a part of Byleth's to force him out of the air or was it–

Cyril could see another bolt of lightning coming his way, forcing him to pull down hard on the reins of his mount to make the wyvern fly back and when Cyril looked back at Byleth to see what he was up to, he was met by a burning piece of rubble being throw at him by Byleth, utilizing the whip form of his sword to wrap it around the rubble and used his strength to hurl it towards Cyril.

The burning rubble hit one of the wings of his wyvern, making it screech in pain due to the trauma and the fire singing a part of its scales and the webbing on its wings.

The injured wing forced the wyvern to descend down which is what Byleth was counting on as he hurried to where it was going to land. Cyril could see that Byleth was going for him and decided to put his bow at his back and then drew his silver axe to meet Byleth in melee combat.

"COME ON!" Cyril beckoned as Byleth jumped to slash him down, Cyril wasn't having any of this as he jumped from his wyvern's back to meet against Byleth in midair.

The Sword of the Creator clashed against the blade of Cyril's axe, surprising Byleth on how sturdy Cyril's axe was as they pulled away and landed on opposite sides with fire threatening to burn them from behind.

'It must have been reinforced.' Byleth assumed, looking at the silver axe to see if the Sword of the Creator had even chipped it.

It didn't matter for Byleth, his adversary was now fighting him on foot, his wyvern was hurt and wailing in pain from a distance, he had to end this quickly.

Deciding to be on the offensive as he expected nothing much from the Almyran (but being cautious not to underestimate him), Byleth swung his sword against Cyril's axe, the latter proved to be more capable than he used to be five years later as he managed to parry Byleth's attacks blow from blow.

The inexperienced boy from Garreg Mach was actually holding his own against him.

For now that is, as Byleth kicked Cyril to the stomach then delivered an overhead slash down which forced Cyril to block it, the strength of Byleth threatened to bring down the spike behind the axe to Cyril's shoulder.

Yelling loudly, Cyril brought out everything he could muster to move up his axe from this compromising situation, gaining more and more strength as he lifted his axe up to Byleth's surprise.

But it wasn't the display of strength that made Byleth's eyes widen but the sudden appearance of a Crest manifesting above Cyril and then cladding his axe with its power.

"The Crest of Seiros?!" Lysithea exclaimed out in shock, witnessing Cyril using the power of the Crest to push back Byleth. What was more surprising is the fact that Cyril's Crest was a major one!

Byleth narrowed his eyes, this fight has just become much more serious than he had thought, he was careful not to underestimate Cyril's prowess in battle after five years but never did he foresee him utilizing the power of a Crest and a major one as well.

"Lady Rhea gave me this power when I did this covenant with her." Cyril explained, remembering the golden chalice that Rhea had poured her blood into during that time that she and Cyril discussed in her quarters following Rhea's heated argument with Seteth.

At first, Cyril was hesitant to ingest the blood that came from Rhea's wrist but Rhea then told him about the truth of how Crest are passed down by blood be it as inherited from a lineage that possesses it or the other is when a major Crest bearer offers his or her own blood for another to drink. Revealing that is how Jeralt had gained his Crest from her as a way to repay the life debt she owed Jeralt and to save his life by revitalizing him with it.

"She told me she passed down this power to me so I could defeat her enemies and I will do just that! I will kill you then I will protect her from anyone who wishes her harm!" Cyril proclaimed, being emboldened by the power that his Crest has given him.

Byleth however was unimpressed after getting over the initial shock of seeing Almyran with the Crest of Seiros, having fought and defeated the source of it just recently.

"And those enemies includes innocent people in Fhirdiad?" Byleth mockingly asked. "Whose screams are you hearing now as we fight?"

True enough, the screams of the people had never stopped until now. The two combatants had only gotten to ignore them as they focused on their fight.

"All of them are just pieces for Lady Rhea's grand plan to defeat all of you. Their lives are sacrifices for the better good of everyone in Fodlan especially from the likes of ya!" Cyril hatefully yelled, for a brief moment forgetting to speak properly as Lysithea had taught him years later to be of better service to Rhea.

"You truly are deluded." Byleth shook his head. "You're incapable of common sense. Your own blind devotion to Rhea leads you to burn an entire city filled with the innocent that you were obligated to protect, all because of her and that doesn't even bother you does it?"

Cyril scoffed. "I know you're just trying to put me off but I won't fall for it. I may not have taken a fancy education as you and Lysithea but I'm not stupid to fall for your lies to make me drop my guard."

Byleth could nearly chuckle in sarcasm in the irony of Cyril's words but chose not to, not wanting to lose his focus against the Almyran especially with his newly revealed power. The absurdity of all of Cyril's reasoning why he did what he and the knights did was so ludicrous that it was a cruel form of comedy at this point.

Responding in kind, Byleth manifested the Crest of Flames, its white gold flames manifesting and the red glow around the Sword of the Creator intensified.

Cyril showed no fear upon witnessing Byleth utilizing his full strength, either filled with confidence or possessing the same degree of delusion that he could defeat Byleth with what he had learned and what he had received from Rhea, the same Byleth that defeated Rhea after a brutal duel.

Lysithea watches with nervous anticipation, while she feels confident that Byleth can pull off a victory, she worries about what it will cost him as seen in his duel against Rhea. The injuries he took from Rhea were still not healed completely, more notably the bruises that Rhea beat into him were still causing Byleth to hurt despite the medical attention and healing magic provided to him.

Byleth rushed towards Cyril, swinging his sword to Cyril's side, the Almyran parried it and returned one towards Byleth. The former professor shifted to his side instead of blocking the attack, avoiding the axe before he threw a punch towards Cyril's chest, flinging him back as the Almyran could feel his breathing stopped for a moment from the strike.

Before he could do anything, Byleth grabbed Cyril by the throat and slammed him down on the ground causing the Almyran to cry out in pain and bare his canine fangs towards Byleth.

"You don't stand a chance against me, boy." Byleth told him, his glowing green eyes glaring at him with cold fury.

For all the time he knew him, Byleth had thought of Cyril as simply a loyal and eager servant of Rhea. A young boy yet to find his place in a continent that isn't fond of his heritage. He pitied him and had been nothing but cordial to him whenever they interacted. The look of indifference Cyril gave him back then contrasted with the look of hatred in his eyes now, it wasn't just hatred because of his attachment to Rhea but there was something else.

"FUCK YOU!" Cyril screamed, waving his axe to lodge it deep on the side of Byleth's head, only for the latter to anticipate it by letting go of Cyril's throat and jumping away to avoid the axe.

Cyril was quick to stand up, breathing heavily either by the loss of breath he momentarily had or to the burst of rage he felt.

"All those years… you have been looking down on me ever since!" Cyril yelled out, his voice still raspy and threatening to break. "Those eyes! Those cold fucking eyes of yours always looked down on me!"

Byleth narrowed his eyes, keeping his guard up and wondered what the hell was Cyril yelling about towards him.

"Just because you were Lady Rhea's favorite! I had to toil and do every task given to me, surpass her expectations just so I could be of service to her, to one day stand by her side and serve her personally!" By this time, both Byleth and Lysithea realized that Cyril was beginning to unleash all his hatred towards Byleth, having been provoked unwittingly by Byleth when he grabbed him by the throat and told him that he didn't stand a chance.

"I collected firewood, cleaned and delivered things! People spat and insulted me whenever I walked past them! Meanwhile, you were paraded as Lady Rhea's chosen! Celebrated and praised for all the tasks she has given you!"

Like the continuous fire surrounding them, Cyril's eyes were flaring, the fire reflecting in his eyes as he continued his rage-filled rants against the very man he hated.

"I worked hard for such a long time! Never got any credit while you were looked at as the chosen one of the Goddess!"

Byleth wordlessly approached Cyril, his sword casually at his side, Cyril raised his axe before letting out a deafening roar to strike Byleth with it only for him to effortlessly parry the blow. Cyril tried again and again to swing the axe to cleave at Byleth, only for his rage-filled attacks to be met with minimal effort by the former professor.

"You really thought all those praises and favoritism Rhea gave me were because I have done her bidding?" Byleth questioned, parrying another blow before swinging his sword down on Cyril, forcing the Almyran to block as Byleth's strength began to overpower him, their weapons and glares clashing in between them.

"She was only doing all those so I could feel appreciative of her 'kind' gestures." Byleth responded, applying more pressure to Cyril, his sword driving Cyril's axe down inch by inch on his shoulder.

"She was trying to get me indebted to her just so I can do what she truly wants from me." Byleth further explained, breaking the blade lock he and Cyril had by pulling away, quickly following up with an upward slash that sent Cyril back from the force.

Cyril grunted, feeling the force of Byleth's attack reverberating from the contact in his axe and to his hands, threatening to disarm him.

"I was never chosen by the Goddess. I was chosen by Rhea instead to fulfill a selfish agenda of hers! There is little that you know of!" Byleth shouted, thrusting the Sword of the Creator forward, forcing Cyril to block it with the blade of his axe.

This was a mistake as the overwhelming strength of Byleth's power and the Sword of the Creator shattered chunks of the axe's blade, some of the fragments struck Cyril's shoulder and leg while a small piece passed by Byleth's face.

Cyril fell down on his back, shocked that Byleth was able to easily shatter his axe despite him using the Crest of Seiros to match against him. Despite using a Crest to empower his weapon, Cyril's axe is still one of simple metal, not one made of mythril like the Sword of Seiros which withstood far more powerful attacks from Byleth's Sword of the Creator.

Byleth looked down on Cyril, Sword of the Creator pointed at his chest, mirroring the very same predicament Cyril was in when he first fought Byleth. Utterly beaten, still without a chance.

"How could I still lose?! I trained hard under Shamir and Catherine! Even got a Crest from Lady Rhea! How can I still not beat you?!" Cyril yelled out like a child in a tantrum, having expected to fare much better against Byleth this time due to the injuries he sustained and what Cyril had learned all these years.

"If you think gaining possession of a Crest makes you all powerful then you're wrong." Byleth lectured him. "Considering I've also beaten the very source of the Crest you still lack the skill and training to beat me, Cyril."

Lysithea approached them, her eyes firmly on the defeated Almyran, he was still clutching on his shattered despite the sword pointed at his chest. His eyes were desperate but defiant, still unable to accept his loss despite how badly outmatched he was.

"He's beaten, Byleth." Lysithea told her lover.

Byleth looked at Lysithea. "What do you want me to do with him?"

"I…" Lysithea honestly didn't know. She knew that the next time Byleth and Cyril would meet, it would be another fight again and probably the end of Cyril. Yet now that they are in the very same situation five years ago: Cyril at Byleth's mercy while Lysithea is made to choose, she doesn't know what to do.

Byleth saw the conflict in Lysithea's eyes and right before Lysithea could decide, Cyril tried to throw his shattered axe towards him, Byleth quickly responded by swatting away the broken weapon effortlessly, this gave Cyril an opening to roll away and then stand up, his hands raised to fight him despite unarmed.

Just as Byleth was about to make his move, the roar of a wyvern caught his attention. Turning to where it is coming from, Byleth saw Cyril's wyvern charging towards him, unable to fly anymore with its injured wing, its teeth ready to bite him in a bid to protect its master.

Before the wyvern could even get near, Byleth severed its head with one quick lash of the Sword of the Creator's whip form, finally getting some form of revenge against the beast that bashed him with its tail back in Tailtean Plains.

Just as Byleth was retracting the whip back into its sword form, he was tackled by Cyril, letting go of his sword and almost falling off the fire behind him. Byleth stayed firm on his feet, stopping himself and Cyril from ever diving into the fire, he kneed the Almyran to the stomach which made Cyril fall back to clutch his stomach in pain before Byleth smashed the side of Cyril's face with his fist, sending Cyril rolling on the ash covered ground.

"Give it up." Byleth coldly warned him, spotting the Sword of the Creator just near the Almyran.

Cyril also noticed the mythical sword just laying beside him and tried to grab it, only to struggle in even lifting it due to how unnaturally heavy it was. It made him wonder how could someone like Byleth even carry such a sword all the time if it was still heavy to begin with?

"I told you…" Byleth kicked Cyril's arm, making him let go of the Sword of the Creator as it lay on the ground once again. "Give it up!"

Cyril looked defiantly at him, powering through the pain in his stomach, he raised his fist to punch Byleth to the face only for it to be caught by Byleth's hand, Cyril would then receive another punch to the face, staggering him back as bruises began to show on the left side of his face and blood came out from the corners of the Almyran's lips.

"No!" Cyril yelled out. "I refuse to be beaten by you again! I swore I will never be defeated by you! That I will do everything I can to kill you so that Lady Rhea will finally know peace and smile once again!"

Byleth growled at the persistence of his opponent, effortlessly avoiding another punch from Cyril and returning another one that pushed Cyril back with fresh new bruises.

"I've come this far to face you again! Trained hard! Learned a lot! I can't allow you to beat me again and get to Lady Rhea!" Cyril continued to yell, only to be kicked back by Byleth as the back of Cyril's foot tripped over a rock, sending his back on the ground again.

Cyril tried to stand up but his knees buckled from the beating he took, he could only kneel on both knees as blood dropped from his lips and the cuts on cheek caused by Byleth's punches.

Lysithea couldn't almost afford to watch the desperate and rather pathetic display Cyril was showing despite how badly beaten he was.

"Far to the point that you were willing to kill civilians without a second thought." Byleth countered, disgusted at the lengths Cyril and the knights went through in their devotion to a 'holy woman' undeserving of such a label anymore after what she had just done.

Taking the rock that tripped him, Cyril threw it towards his most hated foe which was avoided without effort by Byleth as he stood before him, his green eyes looking at Cyril with contemptuous disgust remembering what he had done.

"They were necessary sacrifices to Lady Rhea's goals in order to kill you and that Emperor!" Cyril shouted at him as he stood up despite his wobbly legs.

Catching sight of the look of contempt and disgust Byleth was giving him, Cyril felt something snap in him. Thinking as if Byleth had the nerve to give him such a look despite Cyril's point of view, Byleth had done many terrible deeds to get to this point.

Not to mention how he believed Byleth had wronged him for looking down at him as he had interpreted, how he enjoyed Rhea's favor since he arrived in Garreg Mach and then subsequently spat on Rhea's hand, betraying her for a heretical woman who started this five year long war that had caused nothing but pain and misery to Rhea.

The loss of the once radiant and serene smile Rhea always showed as well as her seemingly boundless grace, it hurt Cyril to see his savior as such. The kind hand that helped him and pulled him away from the thankless service he had done for House Goneril, treated him kindly by giving him a home, food, clothing and a mentor who he appreciated. Such a figure was replaced by a bitter, brooding and angry woman who lost the grace she once showed.

All because of this man before him. Cyril's breathing became even heavier when he saw Lysithea watching them with a conflicted look, remembering that the sad look she wore was that of a pretty smile she once gave to him. As one of the very few who treated him kindly and made him feel the warmth of friendship and belongingness, Cyril couldn't help but fall in love with Lysithea with how she had helped him and saw him as unlike the rest of the people who spitefully treated him just because he was born in a race and culture that he didn't choose to be born into.

Only for her to fall to the sway of the man that she wrongfully fell in love with as he believed, he blamed Byleth taking advantage of Lysithea's feelings for him to get her to betray Rhea and her homeland. He blamed Byleth for being such a bad influence, for taking advantage of the kindness she possessed and for making her do terrible things under the Empire

When he wanted to save her, she couldn't go with him due to her attachment to the Emperor and the influence of Byleth on her.

"Why…" Cyril began as his hands clenched into fists. "Why is it that you had to appear and take everything from me?!" He yelled out as he threw his fists towards Byleth only for the latter to avoid them without much effort.

"You destroyed Lady Rhea's smile! You hurt her! Ruined everything she had worked hard for!" Cyril continued his rambling while using his anger to fuel his punches to no avail.

"You took advantage of Lysithea! You made her work for the wrong side! YOU TOOK HER FROM ME!"

Lysithea merely closed her eyes, shaking her head as she witnessed and heard all of this. It made her sad that Cyril had been reduced to this, a man desperately rambling and pinning every misfortune he and the person he idolized towards Byleth. How she was taken from Cyril despite her never even having a shred of romantic feelings for him, something she was already clear with him a few years ago.

"YOU TOOK EVERYTHING FROM ME!" Cyril spat out with every anger and hate he felt for Byleth. His eyes then caught sight of the hunting dagger Byleth had strapped on his waist, he tried to reach for it to stab Byleth with it.

Byleth didn't allow him, shoving Cyril's hand away before drawing the dagger himself and then stabbing Cyril's right hand with it in order to stop him from further attacking him or stealing his dagger away.

Blood spurted out from his stabbed hand as Cyril cried out in pain, his cries being cut short when Byleth pulled away his dagger and punched Cyril across the face, sending him back on the ground, bloodied and defeated yet again.

"You're hopeless." Byleth scoffed at him. "You claim I took everything from you? Then ask the people who are crying out right now what you and the Church of Seiros has taken from them!"

"Everything! Everything is your fault! Why did this have to be done! You are to blame!" Cyril said as he clutched his wounded hand, continuing to pin the blame to Byleth as his mind crumbled upon his efforts being all for naught all these years, how his mind was constantly telling him that what he was justified because of the losses he had experienced and that of Rhea's, refusing to believe that all of this was just delusion to think of him and his comrades as the righteous ones.

"Why did you have to show up… why…" Cyril repeated, sobbing as he did as the world around him crumbled figuratively and literally. Why couldn't he and the others win for Rhea?

"All of this shouldn't have happened if only you didn't appear…"

Byleth only looked down as Cyril even struggled to stand up, too mentally and physically beaten to do so. Seeing such a sight even made him feel a tinge of pity. Thinking he wasn't worth killing, that leaving him alive is a much fitting punishment to suffer from, Byleth turned his back from Cyril, picking up the Sword of the Creator along the way as went towards Lysithea.

"Come on, Lys." Byleth called her by her nickname, something that Edelgard had revealed to him as her affectionate nickname much as El is to her. A detail that didn't go unnoticed by Cyril.

Cyril watched Byleth leave, going towards Lysithea who looked relieved. Relieved at what? That Byleth had bested him again? And Lys? Since when did he start calling her that? And they were to leave together to fight Rhea again, to end her.

'No, you will not take Lady Rhea away from me… She is all that I have left!'

Despite his broken state, Cyril's newfound anger fueled him, he took an arrow from his quiver behind, he stood up immediately and rushed towards Byleth with the arrow in his hand to stab him with the arrowhead for one last desperate attack while his back was turned.

Only for Byleth to anticipate this, turning around and destroying the arrowhead with one precise strike before delivering an overhead slash from across Cyril's shoulder down to his waist. The powerful slash caused blood to spurt out from Cyril's massive wound, threatening to even cut him in two uneven halves as he fell face first on the ground, a pool of blood quickly forming from him as Byleth watched with cold eyes as Cyril clutched on to his life.

"You fool."

He pitied him earlier, deciding to leave him alive but Cyril just had to force his hand. Byleth couldn't waste anymore time fighting Cyril as he had heard Rhea's roars earlier changed to that of her fighting someone, a sign that someone had engaged her in combat and that he must make haste.

Lysithea only watched with sorrow as she watched her former friend lie face down first, his life's blood leaving his body. A part of her had wished Cyril could have just seen sense, to even feel guilty for his part in the torching of Fhirdiad but there was none, only delusions of being right and an obsession against the man she loved.

The boy that was once her friend was gone, replaced by someone that bore his face that she barely knew anymore.

With that, Lysithea left with Byleth, she saw him with a hardened expression, not regretting what he had to do as more pressing matters laid ahead. It would be irrelevant to ask him if he was alright, having witnessed him emerge unscathed from the overwhelmingly one-sided duel in comparison to the duel Byleth had against Rhea.

Unbeknownst to them, Cyril had managed to gather himself up again by sheer willpower, he didn't care if his own blood had mostly stained him nor was he even surprised that he was still alive, barely clinging to it.

He didn't want to give up, he pledged to fight for Rhea forever, that he will die for her to thank her for what she has given him. He will live up to that in the very end even if he must fend off death's clutches as it tries to claim him.

Taking out another arrow and drawing his bow, Cyril weakly pulled the string, aiming for Byleth's head as he continued walking away from him, thinking that he had killed Cyril with that last sword slash.

"I… will… continue… to fight… you… until my dying bre– urk!"

Before Cyril could finish his words and let loose his arrow, a singular spike of dark magic penetrated through his heart, his eyes widened as he vomited blood, looking at where the spike came from only to see Lysithea with her left arm outstretched, holding the Thyrsus that was still shrouded with traces of dark magic.

Byleth looked surprised at her action, having sensed Cyril's intent to shoot him and was planning to finally kill him once and for all with the Sword of the Creator's whip form, only for Lysithea to suddenly turn around and launch a singular Dark Spike towards Cyril's chest.

Shadows shrouded Lysithea's eyes as she did what is the last blow to Cyril who still stared at her with wide opened eyes, still in shock that Lysithea had effectively killed him as his heart was pierced by her both literally and figuratively.

"L-Lysi… thea…" Cyril voiced out as more blood came out from his mouth, his body fell face first on the puddle of his blood again, it twitched first and then, remained still.

The snow haired woman then turned to Byleth, the look of regret was absent, her eyes told him that she had to do it, that Cyril would stop at nothing to hurt Byleth and she couldn't afford to let someone like Cyril attempt to hurt her love anymore, even if the Almyran used to be her friend.

A friend that she feels nothing but disgust for what he had done blindly under Rhea's orders, the lack of regret and remorse, how he pinned everything towards Byleth which led to his deplorable actions.

Lysithea couldn't feel anything but disgust at how someone she was once close with, ended up as such. Gritting her teeth, she turned her back at Cyril's corpse, not wanting to look at him anymore after all she had seen and heard from him. The feelings of friendship and of pity, she left it all behind to burn with Cyril's body.

Byleth momentarily watched her leave with a worried glance before giving Cyril's corpse one last look, fire was beginning to spread around him as if his blood was like oil, claiming it to burn to ash alongside the city Cyril had ironically put to the torch earlier.

As Cyril's body burned to cinders, the enraged roar of the one he sought to protect from Byleth was heard once again, wholly unaware of the fates that befell those who served her. Or perhaps in her state of bestial madness, she just didn't care.