Chapter 7 - Bloodied Blade
Lucas, Flora, and Byleth rushed to the burning home. He noticed that the windows of the nearby houses were an ominous orange. It was raining all night, how did they start a fire!? A window broke nearby and Lucas found his answer. A man dressed in black raised a pot overhead, ready to throw it into the home. Before he could, Lucas drew his pistol and shot the pot. The friction of the bullet ignited the oil and the man was engulfed in flames. He began to writhe and twitch, eventually collapsing on the ground. He never made a sound, though the smell was terrible. Byleth and Flora stared at him. Lucas just blinked.
He just killed someone. He knew it would happen eventually, being a mercenary. He had told himself this countless times, but now that he had done the deed? Lucas felt disgusted. Not by his actions, nor by the brutal end he had inflicted on that man. He felt disgusted by his lack of hesitation and by the lack of a reaction. He didn't feel remorse, it felt practiced and routine. Familiar even. Lucas shook his head, he had to focus. The enemy was here and the villagers were in danger.
Byleth took command. "Flora, find our comrades! Lucas, check out the houses and find out who's still alive! Tell them to run and make a break for the forest! I'll find the enemy!" Lucas nodded and climbed through the broken window. Iron sword drawn, he moved to the back where the bedroom was located. Lucas leaped backwards, narrowly avoiding the swipe of a sword. The man looked terrified, his sword shaking. Behind him was his wife holding his two children. He spoke in Brigan, unable to recognize Lucas. Lucas lowered his sword and the children spoke to their father. He calmed himself and spoke in broken English "Is Safe? Heard window."
"No, we are under attack. In danger." Lucas had to speak slowly and deliberately, a misunderstanding could be deadly in this situation. "Make a break… I mean run to the forest." The man nodded and moved to follow Lucas. The south gate was open, and clear. Flora stood near the gate and waved for the family to come over. Lucas didn't wait to see them go through, he had more houses to search.
As he checked the third home, Lucas thought there was no one left in their homes. Most of the villagers were getting ready to fight tooth and nail in the north, while the rest of the homes in the south were engulfed with flames. The first home he cleared was the first success Lucas had. The second home he approached was already engulfed in flames. When he approached the third house, he heard fighting. Lucas crept to the back of the house. A door had been broken, and he saw a soldier and Brigan hunter dueling in the kitchen. He waited for the soldier to turn his back. Lucas grabbed him from behind and put a knife to his throat. The man dropped his weapon and froze. "How many of you came through the south gate?" Lucas drove his words home by pressing his knife, breaking the skin and drawing blood. He could barely recognize his own voice. "Only five of us, one was hit by an arrow." the man stammered. How many homes had this man burned? How many lives had he taken? Lucas didn't know, and he didn't have time to ask. He nodded at the hunter, signaling him to finish the guard.
"W-wait I'll do-" his pleading was cut off by a spear piercing his heart. Lucas let the body slump to the floor. The hunter's family was still alive, and he ordered them to go to the forest. His wife and son ran for the south gate.
The hunter remained behind and pulled his spear from the dead man. "You are needing help. I will come with." Lucas shook his head. In his haste to send the survivors to the forest, he hadn't stopped to consider that there may have been soldiers lying in wait.
"The survivors may be in danger. They need someone to protect them." Lucas didn't wait to hear the hunter's response, he needed to move on. When he arrived at the next home, he was too late. The Brigan tanner and his wife were dead, their murderer gone. But before he left, he heard a voice. He scanned the room, and stared at the fur rug. He removed it to find a cellar. Inside were 2 children, siblings he guessed. They were embracing each other, prepared for the end. Lucas shushed them, and put a finger over his lips, the universal sign for silence. They quieted, and gazed up to him in fear and worry. He looked out the window and saw fighting near the north gate. It was too dangerous to take them or send them in that direction. Mercifully, the guards seemed to have run out of the oil pots, so this cellar would be safe for now. He gave the children a weak smile, closing the cellar door and covered it back up. He had to find Byleth.
Byleth knew things had gotten out of hand. She rushed through the Southern half of the village, trying to find the arsonists before it was too late. The night masked her approach, and she managed to kill two without issue. This part of the village was clear, now she needed to…
The clashing of steel caught her attention. Cormac's distraction was over and the North gate had been breached. Byleth had no choice but to trust Lucas to deal with any remaining arsonists on his own. She rushed into the melee that had broken out.
It was chaos. Mud was kicked up, and only the occasional flash of lightning gave a clear image who was fighting whom. To her right, she saw a Brigan hunter battling one of her mercenaries. She raised her sword and blocked their strikes, dragging the Brigan close so she could see her face. The mercenary behind her, also recognized Byleth, and stopped his assault. He opened his mouth, only to be cut off by an arrow to his arm. "No!" Byleth traced the trajectory and found the archer. She rushed them, deflecting an arrow with her sword. Now that she was closer, a flash of lightning allowed her to see the man's shock. She ended his surprise with a stab of her sword. Before she had time to check on her comrades, she realized she was surrounded.
Three guards encircled her, with a spear, a sword, and axe. Byleth placed her sword into a low stance, and waited for them to strike. They converged simultaneously. Byleth swatted a thrust from a spear aside, leaned to avoid the vertical slash from an axe. The swordswoman tried to be clever and go for a horizontal swing from behind, but Byleth was too experienced to fall for that old trick. She grabbed the axe-wielder and pulled, placing him in the path of the swing. The sword cleaved into his ribcage. Byleth had some breathing room. Now she could… Her thoughts were interrupted when the spearman rushed her.
Byleth dodged a jab at her throat, and stepped inside of the spear's range. The spearman tried to back up, but Byleth was faster. She grabbed his weapon arm and drove her sword into his stomach, so hard she could feel his bones crack.
Byleth turned her attention back to the swordswoman, who was trying to pry her sword out of her comrades ribs. Byleth kicked up the spear with her feet and threw it. The swords woman looked up, just in time to realize that she was about to die. Fighting continued to rage all around the village. The backdrop of the burning homes and storm was nightmarish even to an experienced mercenary like her. Byleth would have to move on to the next enemy, and then the next. It was going to be a long night she realized.
The dying soldier watched as Byleth ran towards her next opponent. They didn't stand a chance against her. "Demon…" he croaked. He should have stayed with the guard, at home. He turned his gaze to the heavens and began to pray. He prayed to the Goddess for death and mercy. It would be granted several hours later.
Lucas snuck around the back of Cormac's home. The scene before him could only be described as chaos. In the darkness, he couldn't tell who was winning. There was no communication beyond the clashing of steel, yells, and occasional cries of pain. The rain turned torrential as the storm picked up. Lucas loosened his wrist, just as Byleth had taught him. The fires had turned the houses into giant torches, illuminating the battlefield. With the new light, the fighters had gone from impossible to spot to dark silhouettes.
He noticed a fighter making their way towards him. Lucas leaned his sword against the home and drew his pistol. He could have made the shot, but what if he had been an ally? A flash of lightning gave Lucas an answer. He shot the man in his exposed throat. The figure stumbled, and then collapsed. Lucas glanced behind him and saw two silhouettes closing in. Lucas suddenly heard the sounds of boots splashing. A man in armor ran past Lucas towards his fallen comrade. The home had hidden Lucas from his sight, and his back was now exposed. Lucas stowed his pistol and retrieved his sword, and moved behind him. The two were getting closer. If they were allies, he'd be safe. If they were enemies, he would be in trouble. He needed to finish the distracted soldier before he had three enemies to fight at once. Lucas pulled his arms back for a stab, only for the dying soldier to point right at Lucas. The soldier swung his sword with lighting speed, narrowly missing him. Lucas glanced back to see that the two had arrived. Lucas held his sword to his side, keeping his right hand near his pistol. It was his trump card. He had to use it at the right moment.
Ten shots left. Sword on the left, Spear in the center, and Axe on the right. Lucas thought back to Byleth's lessons. A spear was simple but deadly. It had the greatest range of any melee weapon. But if you get inside of that range, you gain the advantage. The axe was powerful but slow. Dodge instead of parrying. The sword was what Byleth had the most experience fighting, thanks to Byleth. Shoot Axe, and then Spear. Sword can wait.
With his plan in mind Lucas pulled out his pistol and shot the axe wielder in the chest. As the man fell to his knees in pain Lucas turned his gun to the now charging spearman and fired once again. The man crumpled to the ground. When he turned to shoot Sword he noticed he had moved faster than Lucas anticipated. Lucas twisted his body to dodge the strike, but slipped on the mud. Lucas had a dilemma. Keep his pistol and risk injuring his wrist, or drop it to recover faster. He elected to drop the pistol, and used his now free hand to steady himself. The swordsmen had a similar problem and had also fallen in the mud. Lucas shot forwards and stabbed downwards with both hands into the man's exposed back. Lucas was panting, his adrenaline on high.
"You son of a bitch!" Oh what now. The guard Rodrik stood before him, sword in hand. His immaculate armor was now tarnished by mud and blood. Lucas noticed his left arm was injured. "Why protect these savages! They're the enemy!"
Lucas decided he was done with speeches. His willingness to find a peaceful solution was spent the minute this man approached the north gate. The horrors he had seen tonight made him want to genuinely kill this man.
"Would you shut the fuck up already!" Lucas wheezed out. He leveled his sword at the man, ready for a fight. Rodrik growled and charged at him, only to fall into the mud. He pulled himself back up and resumed his charge, but at a slower rate. That was how Lucas would win. Lucas redirected his overhead swing to the side, and slammed his pommel into Rodrik's chest. Rodrik only grunted and stumbled back. Lucas pressed his assault, sending a slash at his throat, only for Rodrik to raise his sword and stop the blow. Lucas glanced at the Guards left arm. Lucas took a one handed sword stance and began to circle Rodrik slowly.
"Those savages took my brother! My comrades! And the Empire mock their deaths by…" Lucas let the man rave, waiting for the right moment. Lucas sprung at him, and sent a thrust towards his liver. Rodrik deflected his blow, exposing his injured arm.
Perfect. Lucas closed the distance and jabbed his knife into his elbow, severing tendons. Rodrik howled with pain and slashed wildly at Lucas with his good arm. He dodged backwards too late. The cut was long, stretching across his chest. Lucas grunted, but adrenaline stopped him from crying out in pain. Both men were panting, glaring hatefully at the other. They rushed forwards once more and iron met steel. Lucas heard a snap and could no longer feel the weight of Rodricks attack. Time slowed, and he saw the upper half of his sword, spinning away. Rodrick looked victorious, his victory would be secure in the next swing. I don't think so! Lucas threw his body into Rodrick, knocking them both to the mud. Lucas flipped his broken iron sword and drove it into his exposed throat. He ripped it out and stabbed it downwards. Again and again.
"Rodrik!" A woman screamed. He turned his gaze to where three more guards stood, weapons in hand. Lucas left the broken sword buried in Rodrik's throat and grabbed his fallen foe's sword and stumbled to his feet. In the distance, a group of five were making their way towards him. They would not arrive in time. The two of the guards rushed him, while the last knocked an arrow. Lucas deflected a thrust from a spearman and slid away from the swing of the woman's axe. A twang made his heart stop. The arrow was moving right towards his heart.
He wouldn't be able to dodge in time.
Move move move move move! Luca's instincts screamed at him
Really? I suppose I can lend a hand.
Lucas Shifted. He didn't know why that was the word he thought of. But one moment he was in the arrows path, the next he was behind the archer. Lucas swung with both hands at her neck, decapitating her. Instincts on overdrive, he gazes at his next victims. The axe wielder and the spearman didn't know where he had gone, so he Shifted again. He appeared behind the spearman and stabbed his sword into the man's leg, forcing him to the ground. He grabbed a fistfull of the man's hair to keep him still. Lucas ripped his sword out of his leg and slit his throat for good measure. All that was left was the axe wielder.
Lucas didn't know what was happening to him. The energy was intoxicating and liberating all at the same time.
One left.
The woman stared at Lucas, hands trembling. She dropped the axe and fell to the ground. She crawled backwards, trying to put as much distance as she could from Lucas.
"M-Mercy, mercy please!" How many had this woman killed? How many villagers? And how many of the people had he gotten to know the past month? He wanted to kill her, make her suffer like so many others had tonight.
I think you've had enough for now. Keep getting stronger, you'll need every ounce of strength for what's to come.
Lucas's energy left him. Whatever had given him that rush was gone, and his limbs felt like lead. The five figures finally arrived at the scene. It was Byleth accompanied by two of their comrades and one of the hunters. They all looked as terrible as Lucas felt. While Byleth was free of any major wounds, her hair was flat and had clumps of mud. Her leggings had torn and her jacket was missing a sleeve. Her clothes and sword had copious amounts of blood, none of which was hers. The hunter limped, using his spear to steady himself, while the mercenaries had been leaning on one another's shoulder.
"It's over. The guards are either dead or have surrendered." Byleth looked relieved. Lucas was too. They had survived this nightmare. He looked back to the guard and pointed his thumb at her. Byleth motioned to the hunter, who drew a piece of rope from his pouch. The woman whimpered, but made no effort to resist.
Lucas looked around them. The rain had finally ceased and the wind stopped howling. And the sound of crackling flames and the cries of the survivors was all that was left. His eyes reflected those flames, and they now had flecks of crimson in them.
Ladislava arrived at daybreak. What greeted her was one of the worst massacres she had ever seen. Jeralt arrived with Wulf late last night. Even with a storm raging, they had demanded that reinforcements be sent to Bládthanna at once. Count Bergliez and Ladislava woke their troops to prepare them for the morning march. It was only when the storm abated that they knew it was too late. The plumes of smoke were visible even from the Fort. She flew at breakneck speeds on her Wyvern, leaving her troops under the Count's command.
The homes in the south were smoldering, the north gate was splintered and smashed. Corpses of villagers, guards, and mercenaries alike were everywhere. She saw a mercenary kick a man with a sword cleaved into his chest, who let out a faint groan. The woman raised her sword and drove it into his heart, twisting it for good measure. Ladislava approached her. "Pardon me! I need to speak with your superior officer." The woman turned and gave her a blank look and elected to simply point in the direction of the North gate. The commander in Ladislava wanted to chastise the woman for the lack of respect, but that feeling was quashed. She eventually found Lucas and Byleth. They were filthy, covered in mud, blood, and gore. They sat on the lookout post of the North Gate, the same one where Lucas had seen Cormac go to his death.
Lucas wasn't there to see it, but the sentry informed them that after he confessed to Renan's murder, the guards swarmed him. He had been beaten so badly the only reason they recognized him was by the tunic he wore. His legs had been removed and a large gash went from his temple to chin. After the prisoners were secure and the survivors accounted for, Lucas and Byleth climbed to the lookout to rest. Not a word was exchanged between the survivors. They couldn't tell if it was luck or a testament to their skills, but most of their mercenaries had survived. Of their band of thirty, five were dead and two were dying. Only one sustained an injury that would probably see an end to their sellsword days. For the villagers, only twelve villagers who had fought survived the slaughter. The people Lucas sent to the forest came back at daybreak, bringing the number of survivors up to twenty. Ten children, three hunters, and seven tradesmen. The rogue guards had only 5 survivors.
Ladislava returned to her Wyvern and flew back to rejoin Jeralt and the Count. Lucas and Byleth stayed in the same place, hugging their knees to their chests. Lucas thought back to the woman he had captured. She kept calling him a demon, an abomination of the Goddess. He fought too well, he knew. Once fighting began, he felt like a different person. He had taken his jacket off, exposing his scarred arms. He studied them, noting their varied lengths and sizes. Byleth followed Lucas's gaze, his expression puzzled.
"These are combat scars… aren't they By." Now that he had seen and felt combat, it clicked for him. Before he had imagined they were from experiments or surgeries performed on him. But now?
"...Yeah. they are" She had known from the start. Despite her skills, she had accrued her fair share over the years. It was impossible to not recognize them. "Lucas, I think you've done this before. Fighting I mean. No one learns this fast. And with the odds you faced? You should be dead." Byleth was blunt. A person in their first fight shouldn't survive a square off against three experienced and well trained opponents, let alone twice. As soon as he heard the voice, his body moved of it's own accord.
One of the things Byleth had said a month ago rang in his mind. "The body remembers, even when the mind doesn't." Lucas's mind began to run through the possible explanations. But the mystery, he decided, could wait. He wasn't thinking straight, had gone through a traumatic experience, and wanted the day to end.
The main force had arrived an hour later, with Wulf riding next to Count Bergliez. Jeralt had split off as soon as they entered the village to check on Byleth. Lucas stayed with her and listened to her report to Jeralt. Jeralts expression was grave and he was clearly guilty about not being there to lead them. Meanwhile the healer's spread out and attended to the ones who needed them the most. One of the healers noticed the bandage around Lucas's chest and offered to heal him. Lucas nodded and elected to remain silent as her magic worked. It was an odd sensation, healing magic. His flesh mended and stitched back together, leaving nary a mark on him. His musings were interrupted by Captain Wulf's shouting. The Count, Ciaran, Sairose, and Wulf were interrogating the few captured guards they had. The shouting and screaming continued until the Count gave an order to his men, and Lucas could only make out the word axe. One of his men handed him a steel great-axe, with ursine engravings. Clearly whatever deal Wulf made with the Count had been for nothing.
"The Count doubled our pay." Jeralt broke Lucas from his thoughts. "Even though everything went to shit. Of course, his generosity was contingent on us keeping our mouths shut." Lucas snorted. If the smoke had been seen from the Fort, there was no way the whole empire didn't know. It wouldn't have mattered what a couple of wandering mercenaries said. The rumor mill will do its job. He doubted a war would start a war now, but in the future? This massacre could be used as justification, maybe even a symbol of Brigan resistance. The thought sickened Lucas. The last thing any of the victims would want was more bloodshed in their name.
"When are we leaving?" Lucas asked. He could tell they wanted to leave as much as he had. His eyes wandered back to the execution of the captives.
"As soon as everyone is ready. Count Bergliez gave a bonus for bringing Wulf in alive too. New gear and supplies coming directly from his purse." The last soldier gave a cry before his head was cut off. "Don't worry about the villagers. Lady Petra and the Imperial Princess are riding from Enbarr to speak with the survivors. My bet is that they will head back to Brigid."
Lucas looked at Sairose. She was speaking with Wulf, a hand resting atop her stomach. The woman had lost everything, her home, her father, and the man she loved. He hoped her pregnancy would at least go well. Something good had to come after all of this madness. Now it was time to go back to the inn and take a bath. Then it would be on to the next job.
Authors Note
So for those that think Lucas got too strong too fast, it wasn't just about the month of training. He took on two groups of three alone. The first group with the gun made a bit of sense, because glock. He should have died and now we are going to get flashbacks to his past and memory fragments.
I put something in the AN for chapter 2 but a Guest reviewer reminded me about the Shadow Library and banned items by the Church. One thing was crude oil, but a fire pot can be filled with animal fat or other oils. That's my story and it's defiantly not because I already wrote this chapter and didn't want to change anything. Canon will be followed until around the Lonato incident, with minor deviations that will spiral.
This was my first fight scene, so let me know if it was any good.
