Chapter 16: To End the War Eternal

Camp of the Band of the Falcon

"So, Doldrey, huh?"

Guts said the words carelessly, focussing more on the dice in his hand and the cup that he shook them in. "I hear all these people yapping about the place. We haven't even gotten the chance to see it."

He let the dice fly free, looking at the numbers. "Five and two." Guts said smugly, Gaston and several of his men groaning. "That's a river."

"Amazing…" one of his men said as Guts collected their bets. "Ten times in a row. How do you do it?"

"Well, betting's like fighting. If you win, you win. And if you lose, that's that." Guts said with a shrug.

Casca, watching on rather impassively, looked away with a quiet sigh. Guts, looking up and seeing this, cocked his head slightly. "Got something on your mind?"

Casca blinked, then nodded slowly and silently. Guts grinned. "Don't worry too much," he said. "We've done this sort of thing so much, us Falcons could probably fight with our eyes closed. And if 'Mr. Calm and Composed' Commander Griffith volunteered us for this mission, he must have something up his sleeve, right?"

"Probably," Casca replied, the others getting up and leaving to give the two their privacy as Guts groaned at their passing. "I just hope he stays calm and composed."

"Remember what I told you down in the ravine?" Casca continued after a moment. "How the Falcons spent some time working in the first place that the Tudors captured?"

Guts' expression darkened, Casca sure he was thinking about who she was about to mention. "Let me guess," he said grimly.

"This was that place," Casca said quietly. "And even though it's been a while, we still have a few ears here that tell us about what's happened. Apparently, Lord LeMuer's been using his financial power and family name to climb the ranks."

She paused for a moment as she tried to remember the full name. "Governor-General Parnassus LeMuer of the house of Gennon, Supreme Commander of the Gateway Front. That's his most recent title, I believe."

Guts' grip on the dice cup tightened. "Damn… now that you say that, I hope he stays cool too. The last thing we need is Griffith abandoning a plan to go after this guy."

"You and I both know he wouldn't do that," Casca said with a frown. "At least, usually. But this isn't usually, I don't think."

Before either of them could continue, they looked over to see little Rickert approaching. "Commander Griffith needs you at the main tent. He has a plan."

. . .

Across the way, in the fortress of Doldrey, a man clad in armor that was a little more tarnished now than it should have been went striding down a hallway, accompanied by two of his men. There were the beginnings of a scowl on the man's face. "Damn them!" Adon muttered. "At least if nothing else, I got away by the skin of my teeth!"

Adon chuckled. "Well, such is part of the Coborlwitz stratagems, to understand when retreat is necessary." he mused.

His jaw clenched. "Even still… that brat and his adopted father… they won't escape me next time. I swear it!"

"You swear on a great many things, Adon." a deep voice that stopped the man and his companions in their tracks said. "For shame. It is a terrible habit."

"Lord Boscogn," Adon said to the man who was a full head taller than him, cleanly shaved and bald, with two hard black eyes like pits staring back at him. "Your Grace… how was your day on the field?"

"Do not attempt to deflect me, Adon," Boscogn said. "Not only did you suffer the disgrace of leading a lowly mercenary band instead of your own troops, but you took them after a foolish quest for petty revenge against two people. And you still managed to lose the whole of them, your brother Samson included! And now you, having slumped home in disgrace, dare to stand tall and make promises that you will not keep?"

"Your Grace," Adon began, "I underestimated the strength of-"

He was cut off by the crack of Boscogn's backhand connecting squarely with his face, the strength of it knocking him to the ground as blood began to gush from his nose. "Enough, Adon! Your part in commanding anything in this war is over. Be grateful I do not yet see it fit to have you stripped of your titles and cast into the oubliette."

With that, Boscogn turned and left, Adon soon turning and retreating the other way as quickly as he deemed proper. As Boscogn returned to his current commander's chambers, he mused on the report, surely exaggerated, that Adon had given. 'Just two men… It cannot be. Not even I am that capable.'

He entered the grand chambers, pausing for a moment as he watched his commander lounging on a balcony overlooking the land below, split by a river that crossed them a kilometer or so out from them.

"Severe as always, Lord Boscogn." his master said. "I could hear your rebuke from here."

Boscogn bowed slightly. "Forgive my momentary indignity. It was necessary to bring him to heel."

His master shrugged. "That matter is past now. However, a new spy report has come in from the enemy camp."

"Has it, sir?"

"Yes. A new force is about to make its attempt at this redoubt. You already know of them, do you not?"

Somehow, Boscogn's expression became even more severe. "The Band of the Falcon." Then, he chuckled softly. "Well now…"

"Are you pleased by this development?" his master asked archly.

Boscogn shrugged. "Not so. It is merely said that the Band of the Falcon is undefeated in battle. Even for their small number, their fame precedes them."

His master hummed softly. "Before battle is joined, there is one thing I must ensure you know."

"Sir?"

Lord Parnassus LeMuer took a deep drink of wine that his young servant poured for him. "The leader of the Band of the Falcon is not to be killed. He must be brought before me alive."

"Yes, sir. What wrong has-"

"That is my command," LeMuer said sternly. "Ensure that you men know of it and follow it."

. . .

The Next Day

A great cloud of dust had risen over the barren lands in front of the fortress, the movement of a mighty force. After a careful deployment, the Band of the Falcon and the White Dragons had taken the field.

Guts looked over to his commanding officer, Griffith sitting tall in the saddle of his white warhorse, then over across the way at the boy Adonis who led out the Dragons personally. His armor was better fit to him now than the last time he'd seen him, but it had still been uncomfortable as hell to be in the same tent as him, having him rely on the man who'd…

"Hey, Guts."

Guts looked over at Judeau, who had ridden over from his Arrowheads. "How are your wounds?"

Guts smiled. "They're just about closed up. That stuff you had is no joke. Really threw Harmon for a loop when he checked up on us a few days ago."

"And Daniel?"

"He's alright, too. He's back keeping an eye on the more antsy soldiers that didn't go with Casca."

"Did he have some elf dust himself, I wonder?" Judeau said as he studied the field before him.

Guts frowned slightly. "No. He's never had any on him. At least that I know of."

Judeau frowned. "Then how is he back on his feet as quickly as you?"

After a moment, Judeau shook his head. "Really though, the longer I spend looking at this place, the more I want to just pack up and call it a day. Walls two times higher and thicker than most other castle walls, a mountain behind it, a river we're in front of… no wonder it's been safe for a hundred years. And those Rhino knights? Cripes! It really takes the cake, doesn't it?"

"Eh," Guts shrugged. "It's just a little bigger than most. And besides, Griffith has a plan. However much these White Dragons grumble and bitch about it, it's going to work. Besides, they're on the flanks anyway. They don't get it as bad as we do."

As Judeau nodded, excusing himself back to his men, Guts looked behind him at the Raiders still under his command. And what they stood in front of. 'Even still, no escape route… it's gutsy, that's for sure.'

The enemy commander probably thought they were pretty stupid right about now. In any other situation, Guts couldn't really blame him, even if their numbers were about equal to what he'd heard these Purple Rhinos had.

His thoughts were interrupted somewhat as the wind began to pick up, the dust beneath their feet beginning to swirl into the air. 'Huh.' Guts thought as he glanced over to see Griffith riding towards him. 'That's handy.'

"How are your men?" Griffith said as he stopped by him.

"They're ready whenever you are." Guts replied. "How are the White Dragons?"

"Ready as well, even if I didn't fully intend for them to be present." Griffith shrugged. "Ah, well. It will preserve our men."

Guts nodded. 'Figures.' he looked around at the dust storm. "You plan for this too?" he asked with a slight grin.

"It was figured into the plans," Griffith said patiently. "Now, are you ready?"

Guts answered simply by unsheathing his sword, Griffith nodding as he smiled slightly. "Good. Then let's begin."

As Griffith rode away, Guts couldn't help but think of Casca's words. How worried she sounded, and not exactly without a reason. 'Nah.' Guts thought as he shook his head. 'Even something like that wouldn't get to him. He wouldn't let it.'

He glanced up at the banner waving overhead, the winged sword of the Band of the Falcon on a shield of blue. 'I think… this is it. The last battle I fight as a Falcon.'

"Vanguard units, forward march!" Griffith shouted, his command carried by horn and drum as Guts walked his horse forward, the sound of thousands of men behind him doing the same.

'Even still,' Guts thought as he lowered his visor, 'I'll go into this battle as nothing less than the leader of the Band of the Falcon's Raiders.'

"Ready weapons!" the cry went out, Guts' grip on his sword tightening as he glanced back, seeing Daniel and Gaston on his left and right. Then, he looked back out towards their charge, and even through the dust storm, he could see the dark line of the enemy knights charging towards them.

He spurred his horse onward, his Raiders keeping pace with him as they pulled ahead of Griffith, who drifted slightly to Guts' right with his own forces. Over the sound of the hoofbeats, as the enemy grew close enough to see into their helmets, he swore he could almost hear them talking.

Whatever they might have been saying, Guts shut them up with his sword, sweeping men off their horses and depriving them of limbs and heads, even tearing through the weaker parts of their armor around their waist and sending one man's upper half flying. He was here, in the thick of it, right where he belonged.

On and on, he and his men drove through these Rhino knights who put up one hell of a fight. If he risked taking a look through the crowd for a second, he thought he could catch glimpses of someone just gaudy enough to be the enemy commander, looking towards him.

Then, he didn't need to doubt any longer, the massive man charging at him with a stout-hafted bardiche, swinging at his head. He swung in turn, ducking his head as he aimed for his opponents. He felt the near miss rip off his helmet anyway, the chinstrap snapping from the force. 'Damn, this guy can really put his back into it!' Guts mused as the two parted, a brief circle forming around them as they wheeled to face each other.

"The general!" he heard an enemy soldier cry out. "Protect the-"

He was interrupted as Daniel cut him down, sending the soldier to the ground with blood flying from the new hole in his face he'd gotten. "To the captain!" he heard Gaston cry, his men following him in as they clashed with the Rhinos around them, relentlessly driving forward into their ranks.

Gut looked back to see the general making his way behind what must have been his personal guard. Guts saw the man looking intently at him for a moment before he joined his men in the press, hacking and stabbing at any Rhino that came within his reach.

"Stand fast! Arrange formation, men!" he heard the general shout. "This is merely a harassment tactic! Push through them!"

. . .

Far above them, at the highest vantage necessary, Lord Parnassus LeMuer of House Gennon observed the shifting battle, focusing on the banner of the Falcon as he reminisced for a moment of that night, that one night, that had gripped his imagination like nothing else ever had.

'The Falcons and the Rhinos are well matched here.' LeMuer mused as his attention returned once again to the battle. 'Though an attacking force this small can only accomplish so much.'

His jaw clenched slightly. 'But Boscogn is a driven man. Fighting like this… he may well kill Griffith, despite my command to him.'

He took a deep breath, then nodded firmly as he set his resolve, turning away from the battle to see a servant standing close by. "You there! Send word to my bodyguards to prepare to sally forth, and let my armorers know I need my set ready. I will command from the field."

The servant nodded, quickly going his way while LeMuer walked to his quarters to get fitted for his gambeson. Even with most of the fighting force outside the walls, the fortress would still be secure. No one would be able to get anywhere close to the gates.

. . .

Down below in the dust and blood that mixed freely, Guts saw the forming of the lines as, once again, the two sides recoiled from each other after a charge. It was the fourth time such a charge from the Rhinos had been rebuffed.

The Rhinos formed lines for yet another charge, corpses of men and horses already littering the ground. Guts growled slightly, then looked over at Griffith. "Boss, I think now would be a good time!" he shouted.

Griffith nodded, wheeling his horse around. "All troops, fall back to positions!"

As the trumpets sounded the signal, Guts looked to his men. "Alright, guys! Let's make a run for it!"

With a shout, his men followed him, an orderly retreat across the barren plain leaving plumes of dust up behind them.

'Alright.' Guts thought as he rode, his men slowly slipping out in front of him. 'Now we wait and see.'

Soon enough, he saw Daniel riding next to him, looking over from Shadowdanse's saddle and giving him a thumbs up.

Guts smiled, then the smile shrank slightly as he saw the line of black through the dust behind him, rumbling closer. 'Well, looks like they took the bait. Me and my bringing up the rear right now…'

He looked out at their troops, spotting Griffith easily. 'Now, when do we get to snap the jaws shut? They're in the palm of your hand now. Like everything you've done has always been.'

He heard Griffith begin to speak to the others as he slowed his horse on approach to the front lines. "Come to positions! Stand your ground and be ready to lay down your lives! The river behind us offers no other choice! Because if we live, we shall live victorious!"

"Dragons!" Prepare to engage on my command!" he said as the Rhinos got steadily closer. He'd broken up the main force of the Dragons and placed them on their flanks. Tempting, but apparently not as tempting as they had become.

'Good.' he thought as he fell in with his men, facing the black wave that was descending upon them. 'Means there's more for us.'

"Falcons!" Griffith cried out. "Countercharge!"

Like a magic spell, the word unleashed a mighty shout from the Falcons as they charged out to strike at the foe before them.

As they charged, Guts glanced as best he could up at the rocky pass where Casca and Anna had managed to sneak. Now, it seemed, it was their turn.

. . .

Back at the fortress walls, a guard of little renown stood on the crenellations as he gazed out past a cannon that was, at the Lord Commander's request, silent. He sighed heavily at the veiled spectacle before him as he looked over at his companion. "Look at that. Biggest battle we've been a part of, and we can't see shit because of the dust cloud."

"Ah, well." his companion shrugged. "More likely than not, we'll be the winners anyway. Just like we have in every battle here before."

"Yeah." the first man grumbled. "Did you hear that the Lord Commander promised that whoever could capture the enemy leader could basically name his reward? Just about everyone that's able to go is outside the walls right now."

The other man shook his head. "There's enough competition out there already. Besides, here I don't have to worry if I'm getting stabbed by an enemy soldier or an ally desperate for a big payout."

The first man rolled his eyes, looking back out into the dust cloud, and the shadows that moved within it. 'Wait a minute… we don't have anyone coming back…'

Off to their right, a cluster of shadows approached, slipping behind the battle and growing larger and larger as they came. Then, the man's eyes went wide as their forms became clear. "What the…" he said as he stumbled back onto the walkway of the walls proper.

"What is it?" his companion said as he stood. But the first man didn't need to speak, a clear, loud voice calling out for him as the mounted force charged in past the still open gates.

"Go, quickly!" a woman's voice, of all things, said. "Vanguard First Division, secure the gates, ensure no one gets out! The rest of you, with me!"

Shockingly enough, another woman's voice called out as well. "Raiders' Second, neutralize and secure any weaponry on the walls! Everyone else, with me, to secure the grounds!"

The first woman's voice was one that belonged to only one person that those in the fortress knew of. And, within the castle, it was a voice that one man recognized. "Well hello again, Captain," a man with a score to settle said, hurrying his way to the fortress's specialized corridors.

. . .

Casca was proud of how efficiently her Vanguard was working, Griffith's plan thus far going off nearly perfectly. She appreciated that Anna was at her side, the extra Raiders that could be spared due to the White Dragons' involvement making this all the easier.

She dismounted, confident in the security of the empty grounds for now. "Come on!" she called to her men, "up the walls to help the Raiders!"

It was a systematic approach that would ensure that the battle outside could continue without issue before they turned their full attention to the castle. As she led the charge, a man in massive armor, styled in the form of a toothy fish, emerged from a side door close to the top of the wall, wielding a spear shaped into a familiar form…

"Ah," the man, an eye patch covering his left eye, said as he grinned half-toothless, "I see we meet again, woman."

Casca groaned in disgust as she rolled her eyes. "You again. You are a real cockroach of a man. Too scared to go out into the field, or are you actually being punished?"

Adon scoffed. "Hardly. I am known as the Invincible Baron! You will have no choice but to kneel to the tenacity of my defense! This fortress is under my protection due to my foresight of your common schemes."

"If that's what you want to tell yourself."

Adon looked behind himself, seeing a bloodstained Anna readying her warhammer. "Ah," he said, "and you are here as well. The other woman soldier. But what I say is the truth. Reveal yourselves!"

At his command, a stream of Blue Whale knights made their way into the courtyard, nearly surrounding the Falcons. "No Falcon is to leave here alive, men!" Adon said. "Slay them to the last!"

With that, the Tudor knights charged, the Falcons charging them in turn as the courtyard became a bloody melee.

As the fight began, Adon stepped back, leveling his new trident at Casca as she approached slowly. "Now, it's time for you to pay for my humiliation and for Samson. No more half-measures! On my pride as an imperial lord, you will submit, or die!"

. . .

Back on the field, the battle swirled alongside the dust, the orderly charge and countercharge now devolved into a massive, bloody pit of blades and bodies. The Falcons and the Rhinos mixed together, packs of two or three soldiers picking off those that found themselves separated and alone. And yet, seemingly at the center of his own personal universe, Griffith charged alone, men falling all around him as his blade became a sharpened blur.

Observing from behind the lines, Lord LeMuer was discontented. "Bah! What are they doing?" he griped. "Why have they not taken Griffith yet?"

"My Lord," one of his bodyguards said, "the enemy's resistance was far more tenacious than we were expecting. In any case, Commander Griffith seems to have a personal bodyguard. Barely anyone's been able to get past the horseman with the massive sword."

LeMuer looked over to where Griffith was, seeing the man in question. "What?" was all he could say of the dark-haired boy, such a common thing next to Griffith's splendor.

Then, he looked over at Boscogn, riding past him and towards the man with the massive sword. "I doubt he will be a problem for long," LeMuer said with a grin.

. . .

Guts was in the thick of it, his only concerns at the moment his blade, the enemies before him, and the movements that he made, the action he took pressing all other thought out of him as man and beast fell to his sword. Already, the Rhinos began to give him a wide berth, cautious of his weapon and the bodies of their comrades.

Then, Guts watched as the crowd began to part, the Rhino Knight commander charging towards him with his bardiche at the ready. 'Round 2, then.' Guts thought with a slight smile. 'Let's see what happens now that I don't have to turn tail.ʼ

He waited patiently for the enemy to come closer, tightening his grip on his sword as he watched for the moment to strike. Then, as their horse's heads passed each other, they moved almost as one, the edge of the bardiche going through Guts' cloak as his sword sheared off yet another decorative horn on the man's armor.

They circled, Guts deflecting a strike from the bardiche as he countered, his own blow blocked by the haft of the polearm. Faster and faster they struck, their weapons almost seeming to become a blur as all that mattered became strike, parry, and counterstrike. His mind became lost in the focus of it, the fight becoming almost a puzzle to be solved between flashes of pain as one nicked or grazed the other.

Then, the dance was interrupted by a crossbow bolt clanging off the general's armor, both pausing as the last person Guts wanted to see stepped through the friendly lines.

Adon looked afraid, even if he hid it well, drawing a warhammer that might be useful if the kid could swing it hard enough.

"Kid!" Guts shouted with a ragged breath as he began to notice the wounds he'd sustained. It figured he wouldn't notice in the heat of the moment, but the nicks and bruises were beginning to sap him. "Get back!"

"Foolish child." the Rhino commander said, walking his horse over to the boy as he hefted his bardiche. "I'll make an example of you quickly."

The commander charged, Guts finding how the boy held his ground admirable, but still stupid as he rushed to the kid's defense.

As the commander lifted his polearm, Adonis dashed forward, landing a solid blow on his foe's chest with his hammer. However, the polearm shifted, slashing into the back leg of the boy's charger, sending him tumbling to the ground. The commander wheeled his horse around but found himself facing Guts once again, greatsword and bardiche clashing again for tense moments as Guts hoped the kid would take the chance to escape.

Instead, it seemed, the kid thought it was smart to go charging at the commander's horse, his hammer smashing into the thing's legs and sending the massive man tumbling to the ground as well.

Guts reined his horse back, and the commander took a swipe at the horse, seemingly trying to dismount him as well.

'Alright.' Guts thought as he parried the blows aimed at him. 'I'll work better at protecting the kid on foot.'

He swiftly got off his horse, sending it to the back lines with a smack of its flank, and the fight paused for a moment as Guts sighed. 'Great. Now I've got someone else to worry about.'

And yet, the feeling of it felt… right, somehow.

. . .

Casca ducked under another wild swing of Adon's trident and dashed past the lumbering man, Anna battering the follow-up blow aside as Casca darted inside of the weapon's reach, shoving the man just so. He stumbled backward, then tumbled down the stairs. It was a satisfying sight, Casca feeling a sense of pride that the only thing of hers that he'd touched so far was a far more steady blade.

She and Anna advanced down the stairs, Adon struggling to get himself into a position to even look at them. "What has changed about you?" he asked incredulously. "You could barely lift a finger against me when we last met!"

"I wasn't in my top form then," Casca said firmly. "My time of weakness has passed."

Adon gaped at her openly. "You were on the rag? In the field?" he said incredulously.

Casca's cheeks flushed as murmuring rippled through the assembled soldiers. "There's no need to shout that!" she said, advancing a little more quickly down the stairs, raising her sword to her Falcons. "The enemy's numbers are few! Push on! Take the castle for Lord Griffith!"

The Falcons shouted as they launched back into the fray, Adon retreating as Casca and Anna charged the man, harrying him as they did their best to pry apart the man's defenses. It was hard work, for as haughty as the man was, he was still quite clearly at least somewhat skilled. Casca used her speed and dexterity to stab at the gaps in his armor, not always striking deep, but landing true all the same. Anna, on the other hand, took the more direct route, slapping his strikes aside with her warhammer as she pounded on his armor, limbs, joints, and the armor's joinery her preferred targets.

After long moments, Anna looked to her right, seeing a squad of Blue Whales approaching them through the fray in the courtyard. "I've got them!" she said, briefly drawing Casca's attention to them before charging at them with a shout, leaving Casca to contend with Adon alone for the moment.

Even still, with the prideful knight commander as worn down as he was, Casca had an easy time dealing with him, his strikes becoming more and more easy to read until, at last, a blow from her sword sent the man's helmet flying as he went sprawling.

The man struggled to his hands and knees, Casca advancing on him as Anna began to finish the squad of knights off. "Urgh…" Adon muttered. "Then it's down to my last resort."

Then, Casca paused as he did the last thing she expected: fall on his face groveling. "Please, my lady, spare me!"

The exclamation he made sent a gasp through Adon's men as he continued. "As much as I have striven in battle, I am at least wise enough to realize when the battle's lost. I am but a soldier, who can recognize when strength is given. And for all I have said, I now recognize yours."

Casca frowned at this sudden display of humility. 'And here I thought he'd be so stupid as to fight to the bitter end…'

Then, Adon sprang up, shouting triumphantly as he aimed a crossbow at her. Casca's eyes went wide as he fired, the Falcons around her shouting in fright as the bolt lodged itself in her shoulder, the tip piercing as the skin around it began to go numb.

"Ha!" Adon shouted as he reloaded the crossbow. "You've fallen prey to the Coborlwitz family's last resort! The Striking Wind Viper! Your evil deeds will die with you as you succumb to the potent narcotic, you harlot!"

As he turned to aim it at Anna, however, she proved quick enough to stride across the distance that separated them, her hammerhead sending the crossbow, or what shards of wood and metal remained after her strike, flying out of his hand as he shouted in pain.

Casca gritted her teeth against the effects of the bolt, tearing it out of her armor. "Alright. Enough talking. I'm going to kill you."

. . .

Guts struck the enemy commander's polearm again, sending it flying away as the massive man stepped back. Guts appreciated the moment it gave him to breathe, his wounds burning as he kept his eyes firmly on the commander. His armor was stripped of much of its finery, a bare black-grey metal that had rents actually gouged from Guts' strikes.

'Damn, but he's strong!' Guts thought. 'I'm almost more dead than alive at this point. Somehow, he's worse than those hundred men I killed. Unless I give my whole life to this, I'm a dead man.'

He saw the kid trying to creep out from behind him, and he put his hand out once again. "I said stay behind me, dammit." he gritted out. "You get caught in this, you're going to die."

"If you keep going like this, you're going to die," Adonis said emphatically. "Let me help you."

'It's not that bad, kid.' Guts mused, thinking about a monster that was far bigger and stronger than the man before him could ever be. 'No, it can never be as hopeless as that time was.'

The commander shouted, charging forward as the two clashed again, all else fading into the background even as the fight around them slowly stopped to watch them, an arena forming around the fighters as they dueled.

The world once again transformed into what bounds the blades set, sparks flying now as their blades clashed and scratched against one another. He caught Adonis trying to sneak by them, but the kid couldn't find an opening. Good. He was almost… there…

Then, he heard the last thing he ever wanted to hear. A clanging snap that made him overcompensate as he stumbled back, watching as the top two-thirds of his sword buried itself in the ground. 'Damn it!' Guts though as fear needled into his heart. 'I only cleaned my sword instead of taking it to Yarrick! I should have known killing a hundred men would mess it up like that!'

The Rhino commander chuckled darkly. "It seems your luck is gone now, swordsman."

'Damn it!' Guts cursed as he drew his knife. If he got in close, got reckless…

Then, he heard a strike on the man from behind, the commander grunting as Adonis battered him again and again with blows from his hammer. The commander took it in stride for a time, then, as he turned around, backed up and swung his bardiche at the kid.

The ax head connected with the boy's chestplate, sending Adonis flying back as the warhammer slipped out of his grasp. "Damn you, boy." the commander growled as he threw his polearm aside, drawing a side sword. "I'll deal with you now."

'Shit! I have to-' Guts managed to think. Then, he heard a swishing sound that preceded something slamming into the ground beside him, the very act of it causing all to pause as they looked at what had just arrived.

Guts' eyes went wide as he saw, buried in the ground beside him, an all too familiar blade with a hook at its end, a dark and jagged scar running across the blade where it had been reforged.

. . .

Casca felt her free hand go numb, slipping off her sword as Adon's trident smacked it aside. Anna stood beside her, giving her chances to rest as she felt the narcotic slowly spreading.

"Enough struggle!" Adon said. "With your current impediment, it would be wiser to throw down your sword and surrender to me. If you do so, I would not be opposed to letting you live as my own personal-"

His sentence was interrupted as Anna charged, smacking his trident aside as she planted a solid blow on his chestplate, pressing the 'nose' of the overwrought fish in as Adon grunted from the force.

Adon stumbled back, clashing with Anna for a moment before pushing her aside with the haft of the trident and stabbing at Casca. "For your refusal…" he shouted.

Casa forced herself to move, just barely juking to the side as the trident's blade clipped her helmet, sending it flying.

Anna fell back in with her, allowing Casca to gain some room to maneuver against Adon's relentless assault. 'I won't last much longer with this drug going through me.'

But Adon left them little leeway as he corralled them back, further and further until at last Casca felt a wall at her back, her heart beginning to race just a little faster as Adon approached her and Anna.

"Nowhere left to run," Adon said with a deep breath. "And I won't let you past me again."

His expression twisted into a wretched sneer. "And look what you've done to my face. I think a limb or two is a fair recompense."

"Get ready to jump, feet together, when I say so," Anna said quietly. "I'll get you past him."

'How?' she wondered as Adon aimed at her. "We'll start below the waist!" he shouted, his blade diving toward her.

Anna batted the strike up and away, one of the trident's prongs scraping her armor on the way out as the main tip scratched the wall behind her.

"Now!" Anna shouted, and Casca jumped as Anna had instructed her. She felt Anna's hand under her feet for a moment before she soared up and forward, tumbling past Adon's shocked expression.

It was immensely satisfying to see as she twisted in the air, sweeping her sword across at just the right moment, before deftly landing on the ground.

"Impossible…" Adon muttered.

"This was interesting enough. But now, I'm glad to be rid of you, pig." Casca spat.

"Whuh…" was all Adon could manage in a bloody gurgle before the top half of his face started peeling back, the man toppling over onto his back as his trident slipped from his grasp. It clattered for a moment next to his corpse.

Casca looked around her at her Falcons, raising her sword to point at the now quailing Blue Whales. "The rest are minnows compared to him! Rout them all!"

Her men responded with a shout as they charged the knights, and she and Anna joined the now renewed fray. They were close now.

. . .

Guts saw the Rhino commander pause and turn to look at the sword from the corner of his eye, heard Griffith shouting at him. "Guts! Take up the sword!"

Then, the commander began to move at the same time as he did. But all he had to do was grab the hilt of that damned blade that had killed so many of his men, pull it from the blood-soaked ground, and swing it at the man who charged at him with a shout of exhaustion.

Guts aimed true, and the blade claimed one more body as the commander's head flew off, his body sinking to his knees, then to the ground.

For long, almost agonizing moments, it was utterly silent. Then, Corkus broke that silence. "The mad bastard did it!" he shouted.

Daniel, a knowing smile hidden behind his helmet, raised his swordspear. "The captain of the Raiders has slain General Boscogn of the Purple Rhino Knights!" he said, his voice cutting above the murmur that began to rise from the enemy ranks.

Then, in the distance, they heard something else. A low buzz from the fortress, becoming louder and louder as all turned to look at its source. And even from here, Guts could see their banner flying from every tall place within the fortress, his men and Casca's calling out to their comrades, jeering their foes.

Guts smiled as the murmur became shocked shouts from the Rhino knights, a chuckle becoming full-bodied laughter as a euphoria that he always looked forward to washed over him. "Don't you fools get it? Your leader's dead and your fortress is ours! You've lost!"

From beside him, Griffith raised his sword, stained with blood. "Cry out, men!" he shouted in a voice that could be heard across the battlefield. "Cry out for victory!"

With that, a forest of blades sprang up behind Guts, the cheer of the Falcons spreading to the distant White Dragons at their flanks, shattering the air and rendering the despair of the Purple Rhinos a silent anguish.

Then, Griffith gave his next command. "Signal the White Dragons! Hunt down whoever offers a fight to us!"

The horns blasted as the Rhinos began to turn and run, Guts knowing what was happening. The Dragons, having patiently waited until now, would maneuver their lines until they touched the walls of the fortress, making an inescapable cage of steel.

Guts found his horse again, and rode out with his men to commence their work.

. . .

As the Purple Rhinos began to break and run around him, Governor-General LeMuer looked around himself in impotent rage. "Damn you all! Rally to me! I will lead you now!"

None paid him any heed, racing past him. He tried to grab the arm of a passing knight but found himself being pulled off his horse, hitting the ground with a wheeze as his horse bolted. For long moments, he simply lay there, trying to make his way to hands and knees in what had become a mighty struggle. Had it really been so long since he'd last fought?

Finally, as he gasped for breath, he looked up and saw… him. Astride a white charger, clad in the armor that had become his hallmark, looking down at him with those piercing blue eyes as his locks of silver, almost white hair fell from the edges of his helm.

LeMuer was entranced again, as he'd been all those years ago. "G… Griffith…" he managed to say somewhat dumbly.

"Lord LeMuer," Griffith said simply as his men swarmed past him. "It's been quite some time."

The voice, the tone and timbre and command, set LeMuer's heart pounding. "Griffith," he repeated, "my friend. Surely, there is some way to come to terms now that victory is so clearly yours? In some way, I-I've made this possible. We have done well by each other. Would us being on opposite sides truly sully that so completely?"

He struggled his way to his feet as he continued. "Ever since that day, I've kept my ear on your exploits. Wanting to find a way to ride out and meet you again. Much of my means has been spent thus. I-I made sure that none of my men would even so much as harm you. I made sure of it!"

He paused. "Surely… surely you haven't forgotten that night as I have not? It grips me like no other! How I've yearned to repeat it. Please… I will do anything to gain your audience again."

Griffith simply stared down at him silently. LeMuer chaffed under it. "Surely… you don't… resent me, do you?"

"Hardly, Excellency." Griffith finally said.

As LeMuer smiled, however, Griffith continued. "However, I've hardly yearned for you as you have for me. There is nothing within me that thinks deeply of what I did with you now. Like a stick by the side of the road, you helped me along my path, and have been discarded. That is all."

LeMuer trembled as the words sunk in, then a fire lit in his eyes as he stepped forward, beginning to draw his side sword. "You… you bastard!"

In a flash, Griffith's blade was there, and LeMuer saw no more, his sword falling to the ground from its scabbard.

"Now, however," Griffith said quietly as he watched the light leave the man's remaining eye, "your loose tongue would be a detriment to my ambitions. So I will seal it for you."

He removed his sword, letting the man fall to the ground, and walked his horse away, not even sparing a glance back at the man who had wasted everything for a foolish dream.

. . .

Guts walked past the gate of the now-opened fortress, past the prisoners that they had taken, as he regarded the sights around him with a quiet whistle.

"It is quite a sight, isn't it?" Daniel said, his helmetless face bearing the ghost of a smile as he walked alongside.

"Sure is." Guts nodded. "Have you ever seen anything like this?"

Daniel looked around Doldrey with a critical eye. "A few examples, long, long ago."

Guts waited for him to elaborate, then shrugged slightly as they continued their walk.

"Sir Guts!"

The duo paused, turning to see Adonis riding up to them with two men of what was likely his honor guard, dismounting a little ways away and walking towards them. "Sir Guts?" the kid said, looking up at him with eyes filled with gratitude. "I just wanted to thank you for your selflessness on the field. I was…"

The kid's expression became somewhat embarrassed. "I was foolish. Chasing the sort of renown that would give me the respect I needed to command the White Dragons. Without you… I would be in the grave alongside my father."

Several emotions, most of them conflicting, welled up in Guts as he fought to keep a neutral expression. "Well shit, kid. I was just doing my job. The fact that you tried at all should make your men proud. And hell, you saved my ass out there a time or two yourself."

Adonis nodded, a slight smile now on his face. "Again, thank you, Sir Guts. I won't forget how you saved me today. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to go review my men."

With that, Adonis turned and made his way back to his horse, saddling up and turning away as Guts watched. 'How I saved you…' he thought as Adonis rode out of the gates.

The words were bitter things in his mind as he turned back and began walking again, lost in thought for a moment as he tried to grapple with what he felt about the boy he'd nearly killed.

"Something wrong?" Daniel asked, snapping Guts out of his reverie.

Guts was silent for a moment, then shook his head. "It's nothing, really," he replied, sure that it wasn't going to be convincing to the man at all. So, he quickly shifted the subject, taking the sword that had saved his life off of his shoulder.

"So," Guts said quietly. "He was here."

"So it seemed," Daniel said, looking at the blade. "Why save you, though?"

"Guess he's really wanting that next fight with me." Guts said flippantly. The dark look on Daniel's face made the flippancy a much more hollow thing than it already was.

"Captain, Daniel."

They looked over at Anna as she descended the stairs up the wall they'd stopped by, pausing for a moment to salute. "As far as I can tell, this force sustained minimal losses." she began.

Daniel nodded. "Where's Casca?"

Anna gestured back up the stairs. "Up top. Adon tagged her with some sort of poison, likely derived from a Strychnos plant. I whipped up an antidote with a field medic's bag, so she won't die, but she's not moving on her own any time soon."

Daniel nodded, then looked over at Guts. "If you want to make a report to her, we can go get a solid count on our Raiders."

That sounded wise to Guts, who nodded. "Alright. See you around."

He walked up the stairs, emerging onto a barren top that only had one person sitting on a step up to a slightly higher level of the wall.

Casca noticed him as he approached, and he smiled slightly. "Yo. Tough day, huh?"

Casca simply nodded wearily. "So," Guts continued as he came to a stop in front of her, regarding the slightly bloody bandage, "how's the poison treating you?"

"Ah, it's just a scratch." Casca chuckled. She paused for a moment. "At least, that's what I'd like to say. Could you give me a hand here?"

Guts reached out, taking Casca and lifting her to her feet. He set the sword aside as he put her arm around his shoulder. Together, they looked out from over the walls at the now clear battlefield as the dust finally settled, and it was easy to spot a pinprick of brilliant white walking amongst the Falcons, a cheer reaching them even from here as the men lauded their leader.

"What a view…" Casca said quietly as they took it in. Then, she chuckled softly.

Guts looked over at her, seeing tears welling in her eyes. "What is it?" he asked quietly.

"It's strange," Casca replied after a moment, the tears falling now. "Even after all this time, he still feels so far away after a battle sometimes. And… it hurts."

Guts regarded her, staring out despondently at Griffith, and the sight… well, it did something to him that he couldn't fully describe yet. But whatever it was, he needed to do something about it.

"Now, that ain't the case," he said firmly.

"What?" Casca asked, whatever else she might have said stifled by a yelp as he lifted her off her feet. She'd never seen him use his strength so… tenderly. "H… hey." she managed, blushing slightly.

"You're not going anywhere just standing around watching him." Guts said, pausing as he smiled slightly. "So, let's go and meet your leader, shall we?"

She looked up at him, Guts seeing that same expression that she'd had when they were in the root hollow what seemed like ages ago now. He still wasn't fully sure what it meant. But he had a few ideas now.

"Yeah," she said quietly.

Guts grinned, turning and beginning to jog. "Off we go then!" he chuckled.

"Woah!" Casca said, tightening her grip on him. "Be careful!"

As they made their way off the walls, Guts glanced back at that sword before it disappeared out of sight. 'Why?'

It was a question he'd have to ask the beast himself. And he had no intention of running into him any time soon.

. . .

Far atop one of the cliffs that overlooked Doldrey and its shattered legacy, Nosferatu Zodd appraised the battlefield. So much death here, so many broken bodies. How he yearned to have been a part of it. But, for now, he contented himself on ensuring the safety of the man who carried the Egg of the King. And, somewhat strangely, the boy that had been the closest so far to besting him.

It was a strange thing for him to do. But the boy fascinated him. 'The Eclipse will soon be upon us.' he mused as he turned his massive horse and began to ride away. 'It will be interesting to see how he proves himself then.'