AN:

Two small side notes concerning last chapter: Wedge formations are devastating, even when it's just infantry. In fact, they are so OP that they're banned in rugby. Also, a crow beak, also known as Bec de Corbin, is a medieval pole weapon that is highly effective against both unarmoured and armoured targets.

Also, a thank-you to a guest reviewer for pointing out a consistency error concerning chapter 11. It has been corrected.

To the other guest reviewer, thank you as well for pointing out the flaw in my logic there. I'm still unsure on how to handle that particular point, though.

Chapter 15: (Mostly) Just as Planned

It was late at night that Byleth patrolled the camp. He was among the second watch, after all. Fortunately, everything seemed to be calm. The sentries were silent, but they were visible even to those who did not have his night vision helmet, and moving. The patrols were all active and there were no suspicious noises.

Sadly, there were noises that, while not suspicious, were unpleasant. He heard them mostly as he passed the tents reserved for the students. It appeared that some of them were having nightmares. That was not unexpected, seeing as a good part of them hadn't been blooded before the battle.

It was for that reason that he passed this specific part of the camp more often while doing his rounds. While it might sound a bit hypocritical from him, they were yet young and his sense of responsibility made him think that a few of them might need some form of support or reassurance.

It was strange how things like that had come about. He had always looked out for the newer members of the mercenary company, but those had all been adults. They had not always been blooded, but adults nevertheless. With his students, it was different somehow. Some of them had killed before and all of them were at or above the age of his own first brutal battle, yet he could not help but worry about them.

It was at the end of his guard shift that his frequent returns were validated. He spotted a figure sitting by one of the campfires and made to approach that person. As he drew nearer, he saw that it was a boy with green hair. Byleth recognised him as Linhardt.

The Professor sat down next to the Black Eagle student and stayed silent, waiting for the boy to speak. He did not have to wait for long.

"I can't stand the sight of blood," said Linhardt, "Never have. This was a very unpleasant day."

Byleth nodded. "Can't sleep?" he asked.

"No. The images are too fresh on my mind," the student admitted. He sighed, "Why fight anyway? Wouldn't it just be better if we could all just take a nap instead?"

"It would. Sadly, the world isn't that simple," responded Byleth.

Linhardt's face bore a forlorn look as he said, "I wish it were. So much blood is spilled senselessly. So much time wasted on useless things. Napping, fishing and research are a lot less confounding than politics and war."

There was companiable silence again, safe for the sounds made by the fire. That state lasted for several minutes. Byleth spent that time surveying the camp again with his night vision and the sensors. Linhardt was watching the stars in the sky though.

"Do you think the world will get simpler one day?" he asked out of the blue.

"I hope not," answered Byleth.

That perplexed Linhardt. "Why do you say that?"

The Professors tone was eerily neutral as he said, "The only way the world would ever get simpler is if there were no people left to make it complicated."

"That… is a good point," admitted the student.

Byleth said nothing for a second before he spoke again, "You've seen how ugly the world can be today. Other days will be different."

"I guess that's true as well," acknowledged Linhardt. "With those things to consider, I'll see if I can't take a prolonged nap until morning. Thanks for the talk and good night, Professor."

"Good night," said Byleth in response.

As he watched the sleepy student walk away, he focussed on the two presences he had sensed nearby. "You two can come out now. I don't bite," he said in an attempt at a joke.

"You need to work some more on the tone, kid, but you're learning" came the voice of one of them in an amused manner. It was Jana. She stepped closer to the fire and sat down next to her surrogate brother.

The other person who stepped into the light of the fire was Edelgard. Following the trend, she sat down by the fire as well and stared into the flames.

"Fire is such a curious thing," said Byleth. Despite the strange looks he got, he continued, "It allows us to see, but it can blind us. We need its warmth, but it can burn us. It makes us secure, but it can give us away."

Jana just kept looking at him strangely. "Never took you for a philosopher. What's got you so talkative tonight?"

"I need to learn," answered Byleth, "Learn how to talk, how to teach, how to protect."

"Learn how to protect? Isn't that what we've been doing since forever?" asked Jana.

Byleth turned his head fully towards her and sad, "You know that I struggled with finding purpose until recently. Yes, we did much good as mercenaries and we protected people, but we were always reactive. We never took the initiative. Now I've found a way to really make a difference."

Jana huffed bemusedly. "Figures your bleeding heart would make you say that," she commented. She knew very well how much he despised people who hurt others without good reason, even if he himself seemed to not know. If he had had the means, he would have swept across the continent in a crusade to purge the entire continent of bandits, pirates and the like. The day he had earned his title had shaken him that much.

"Then there are the students," Byleth went on.

The older mercenary raised an eyebrow. "How is that different from instructing the recruits? Apart from the whole tactics and leadership thing, I mean."

The young Professor breathed in slowly. "There are no other veterans around to pull them out of danger. I'm the only insurance they have. I must protect them, keep them alive, guide them, aid them in their ambitions or dissuade them where necessary."

Edelgard merely observed this conversation, listening with interest and no small amount of respect. In this moment, she truly lamented that he had chosen to become the Professor of the Golden Deer. This was the kind of drive she wanted, no, needed at her side.

"Huh," Jana said, breaking the Princess out of her thoughts, "Guess that's true." Then, she slapped her upper leg and stood up. "I think I'll hit the hay. So long, kid. Princess."

The woman left without waiting for a response and soon disappeared between the tents, leaving Byleth and Edelgard alone.

"Is there something you want to talk about?" asked the former.

Edelgard nodded and moved closer to him. Then, she said in a low voice, "I don't know how else to bring this up, but I want to know what you know about a certain Hyperion."

The Professor's hand shot up, indicating that she should stay silent. After a few seconds, he lowered it again. "There is nobody in earshot. Ask your questions," he finally whispered.

Getting the hint, Edelgard kept her voice low. "How do you know him?"

Deliberating only for the fraction of a second, he replied, "One night, he simply appeared and spoke to me, though the details are a bit more complicated. How do you know him?"

"He spoke to me in a dream recently," she answered.

Byleth frowned. "He has no power over dreams as far as I know," he said.

The Princess thought about how to reply to this. On the one hand, it was risky to mention to a member of the Church that she had forsaken the Goddess. On the other hand, he knew Hyperion, supposedly a different God, and would probably not take it badly.

Deciding to take the risk, she finally clarified, "It was not really a dream, I guess. I was having a… crisis of faith and I prayed to anyone who would listen while falling asleep."

"I see," said Byleth. That made some sense. He had overheard Hyperion talking with Sothis about receiving and answering prayers.

Edelgard went on, "There is something strange with what you said, however. For years now, I've had nightmares almost every night, yet I have not had one ever since that night. How is that not power over dreams?"

The young Professor closed his eyes and hummed. He thought about what Edelgard had said and eventually came to a conclusion. "He is God of the Soul, among other things. Maybe he didn't affect the nightmares as much as he affected their source."

The Princess stiffened. "He could have done anything to my soul…," she whispered, horrified.

Byleth shook his head. "He would not have, no. He views the soul as sacrosanct. To touch it in any way other than to heal, mend or communicate it is revolting to him."

It was not a conversation Byleth looked back on with a good feeling. Asking Hyperion about the topic had been extremely unpleasant, mostly because of the rather vocal answer. As a God of the Soul, the man instinctively knew certain things, among them two absolute rules he claimed were enforced by the universe itself: One, the soul was sacred above all things. Two, mutilating the immortal soul of any being was an instant ticket to eternal damnation. Alarmingly, Sothis had vehemently agreed with that assessment, displaying a haunted look on her face. Byleth had not dared ask for elaboration.

"How are you so sure?" asked the Edelgard.

Byleth's voice was serious despite the whispering as he answered, "There are things even Gods fear. Things that especially Gods fear. This is one of them." He added, "I've also known Hyperion since before he became a God and have a grip on his character."

The Princess nodded slowly, somewhat mollified by that answer. "Do I need to be worried about anything?"

"Apart from his sense of humour, you have nothing to fear," said Byleth, "Just the opposite."

"What do you mean?" asked Edelgard.

"Professor Hanneman's current research into Crests is based on knowledge he provided. He hopes to help you and any others with your condition," explained Byleth, intentionally hinting at Lysithea.

That was both good and bad for her. Bad because it meant that more people knew than she was comfortable with. Good because somebody with great expertise in the field was tackling the problem. Still, another question was burning on Edelgard's lips. "How much did he tell you about me?"

It might just have been the late hour, but she thought she could make out a hint of anger in his voice as Byleth answered, "He told me that you have two Crests because of the Agarthans' sick experiments, that your siblings died and you ended up with two Crests." After pausing to calm down, he added, "He also told me that you were the Flame Emperor, an unwilling pawn of that filth. He refused to tell me more or even explain."

Edelgard's thoughts were mixed on this. It was far more than she would have liked him to know, at least at this time, but it appeared that Hyperion hadn't lied to her, though she didn't appreciate being called a pawn. The choice ahead of her seemed all the more pressing for it, however. On the upside, she hadn't done anything major as the Flame Emperor as of now. No bridges had been burnt yet.

"Thank you for being honest with me, my teacher," she said after some time.

Byleth replied with, "I owed it to you."

There was silence again. Eventually, though, Edelgard stood up. "I think I will try to catch some more sleep. Have a pleasant night," she commented.

"You too," replied Byleth.

24th day of the Garland Moon 1180. Castle Gaspard.

They were late. Medicating the wounded and burying the dead had taken time, after all. That went to explain the day of delay the rear-guard had suffered. Of course, the main force already knew of the battle they had fought, but a delay was still a delay.

Despite this, Byleth was looking forward to linking up with the rest of the troops. There was a specific reason for that, and it was approaching him right now.

"It's good to see you again, kid."

It had been some time since Byleth had last seen his father, so he was all the gladder to do so now.

"Likewise, Father," he said.

Much to Jeralt's surprise, Byleth embraced him quickly before separating from him again. That was uncharacteristic for the young man, but it was also a welcome surprise. Such open gestures of affection from his son were rare and Jeralt loved them all the more because of it.

"Huh, teaching the brats must've softened you up. I don't remember you being like this," said the older man, "But that's probably for the best."

Byleth nodded. He agreed with that assessment. Then again, it was a development that had begun with Hyperion and Sothis' awakening. Still, the students had contributed a lot to his newer behavioural quirks.

Jeralt went on, "Anyway, I think it's time for you to give your report to the Captain. He's in charge of this mess, after all. Seteth will also be there. He arrived yesterday."

"Are things proceeding according to our plan, then?" asked Byleth.

"It seems so, but you'll have to ask Seteth yourself," was the answer he received.

The two of them walked through Castle Gaspard towards the keep, where the Captain had relocated to. While Byleth hadn't asked yet, he assumed that the main battle had gone very well. They would be camped elsewhere otherwise. From the lack of damage to the castle walls, he could also surmise that the actual fighting had happened away from it.

It did not take long for them to reach their destination, as Castle Gaspard was fairly standard sized, all things considered. So, less than five minutes after Byleth's arrival at the gate, they were already entering the keep.

The first thing Byleth noted about the Captain as he entered the war room was that the man was old for a knight. He appeared to be in his early sixties and it was readily apparent that he would not be in any shape to continue active duty for much longer. More importantly, however, his gaze was sharp, indicating that his whit was so as well.

Next to him was the familiar form of Seteth, wearing his usual attire, though he did carry a standard Academy short sword on his hip. It seemed that he was here in some sort of military capacity, most likely as officer. That could mean a multitude of things, but there were contingencies in place if one of the less fortunate events should have occurred.

"Rear-guard Commander Byleth Eisner reporting," said Byleth as he saluted in Fodlan-typical fashion.

The Captain saluted as well. After that, he got right to the meat of the matter. "We received a message about an attack on the rear-guard on the 20th. Report."

The young Professor took a stack of parchment out of his coat and began reading his report. Talking a lot spontaneously was still not something that came to him easily despite his recent progress there. "On the late morning of the 20th, we entered a dense fog on Magdred Way. Due to the time of day and temperature, I deemed it both magical in origin and as coming from a hostile source, and ordered the troops to assume combat formation.

After an initial probing attack, the flanking groups of Professors Manuela and Hanneman as well as Dame Catherine engaged enemy flanking forces and defeated them easily while our centre engaged theirs. Both enemy flanking groups were destroyed. The enemy's central force splintered soon after, allowing a small detachment led by myself to engage the source of the magical fog.

The engagement with said source has yielded great concerns. Among the enemies guarding the mage who maintained the fog were members of the Western Church and an unknown group of pale-skinned individuals. One person of interest was captured. Her compatriots attempted to flee at this point. Less than half succeeded."

The Captain chose to interrupt here. "Do you have evidence to support the claim of the Western Church's involvement?" he asked.

"Yes," answered Byleth, "They wore insignia and, in four cases, carried credentials as members."

He reached into a satchel he had taken with him and handed it over to the Captain. The man took it and looked inside, inspecting its contents. As he did so, a grim look came over his face. "Those are verified. They carry the correct seal and signature," he said.

Seteth added his own words to this. "I see. So the reports were true," he said, putting on an act. The green-haired man had already known that the Western Church had gone rogue, but the Captain was not as of yet part of those in the known.

An eyebrow rose on the Captain's face. "Reports?"

"Yes. About a week ago, we received reports from our Inquisitors that the Western Church seemed to mobilise its forces. Three days later, another report stated that troops have left the Western Church's headquarters in the direction of Rhodos Coast." The look Seteth wore was serious as he said this.

"That is alarming," commented the Captain, his face just as serious. He turned back to Byleth and said, "Nevertheless, I must hear the rest of your report before we choose our next course of action."

The Professor nodded and carried on, "After the fog cleared, the flanking forces performed a pincer movement on the enemy main force. My detachment could not double back, however, as we spotted Dame Catherine engaging Lord Lonato's personal retinue despite being outnumbered two to one. I must mention that she did so with disregard to my request that she remain with Professor Manuela's force. Nearly half the fatalities our army suffered were sustained by her unit as a consequence."

The Captain grimaced. Catherine was infamous amongst the Knights of Seiros for her… less than wise hotshot tendencies. Reprimand after reprimand for her reckless behaviour had been issued, but nothing had come of it. It might this time, though. Such a loss ratio is unprecedented, he thought. Hopefully, the woman would learn eventually.

Byleth continued, "My detachment rushed to engage Lord Lonato's retinue and take pressure off of Dame Catherine's troops. We were effective in that capacity, though we lacked weaponry suited to deal with heavy armour. During this last engagement, the retinue was destroyed and Lord Lonato himself captured for interrogation.

In summary, our losses amounted to 453 casualties. Of those, 112 were fatalities, a further 150 permanently unfit for combat duty and 291 either recovered or still recovering. The enemy force has been annihilated almost completely. 821 fatalities, 336 captured and an unknown number of less than 100 routed."

The Captain inclined his head. "That sounds acceptable. Leave the written report for me after we are done here. Is there anything else of note?"

"Yes," answered Byleth. "On Lord Lonato's person, we found documents alluding to a planned assassination of Archbishop Rhea. I am unsure of its credibility or significance as he has not been interrogated yet. The documents are at the bottom of my report." As he was saying this, the Professor handed over the stack of parchment in his hands.

"Thank you," said the Captain. Then, he addressed Seteth, "Now we can think about how to proceed. Does the Archbishop have further orders for us?"

"Yes, though in light of this revelation of a plot to assassinate Lady Rhea, they may change further," confirmed Seteth. "The army, including the students, is to march on the Headquarters of the Western Church and capture it. Their documents are to be retrieved and the Bishop is to be captured for trial and, most likely, execution. Additionally, I will take a detachment of roughly 1'000 soldiers and pursue the force the Western Church has sent to the Rhodos Coast. The tomb of Saint Cichol must not fall into the hands of these heretics."

In truth, Seteth was more concerned with the Sacred Weapons and with his wife's grave. Neither of those could be allowed to be desecrated, both for strategic and personal reasons. Byleth could not fault him for it.

"What about the assassination?" asked the Captain.

"I do not know yet," answered Seteth, "But the orders will likely change in some way, I assume. Still, it would behoove us to at least prepare to march."

"Very well," said the Captain, "This concludes our meeting. Vice-Captain Jeralt, Professor Byleth, you are dismissed."

Saluting, the father-son duo left the war room and made their way to exit the keep. On their way, they were stopped, however.

"A word, please," came Seteth's voice from behind them.

The two of them turned to look at him and waited for him to continue. He promptly did so. "The Archbishop asked me to inform you that our recently gained intelligence has enabled us to start the Episode 5 scenario. That will be all."

With that, Seteth turned walked off and left the two Eisners alone.

To an outsider, that message would have been fairly inconsequential. It had been deliberately designed this way, as he only its sender, messenger and recipients knew what exactly was meant by that. Any spy listening in on the conversation wouldn't know what the meaning of it was until it was far too late.

The surprising thing about the message, at least to Byleth, was that the scenario had come about so quickly. The amount of information (and proof for said information) necessary to kickstart that part of the plan was astounding. Either Yuri's agents had found far more in the Western Church's headquarters than they could have realistically found or someone else, likely Baron Ochs, had done some digging independent from him in Enbarr.

Why Enbarr, one might ask? Because that was the only place to feasibly get some proof to incriminate certain despicable elements of society and convince an important player of the necessity of switching sides. It was likely that Baron Ochs' spies had found such proof while investigating the rumours about the Vajra-Mushti.

It was a fortuitous development that had now accelerated their plans significantly. There was going to be a hectic period of time because of the many events taking place at once, of course, but it was going to be worth it.

Hyperion, who had listened in on the strategy meeting and the very brief conversation with Seteth, remarked, "Well, well, well. It seems things are going just as planned."

"Just as planned?" questioned Byleth.

"Ruin the reference, why don't you?" snarked Hyperion. "At least we still got the other one going."

Byleth mentally raised an eyebrow. "The other one?"

"Episode 5: The Empire Strikes Back."

25th day of the Garland Moon 1180, early morning. Enbarr.

It was a risk, coming here for a secret meeting with Duke Gerth so close to the black market, where his men and women were currently retrieving the Hero's Relic his new associates had told him about. Still, it was a risk he was willing to take. For His Majesty and the Her Highness. For the Empire.

Damian held a grudge against Duke Gerth, seeing as the man had betrayed his Emperor, but it had become readily apparent that the head of House Gerth barely tolerated the other usurpers. From what the Baron had been able to gather, his betrayal had stemmed from a genuine concern for the Empire and its people. It was this concern that Damian was banking on.

Currently, he was sitting at a table in a small house that had been inhabited until recently, the perfect place to have a secret meeting, and waiting for the Duke to arrive. He had deliberately ordered his guards, including Adrianne and Beatrice, to wait outside. Sensitive information was going to be discussed and Damian did not want Duke Gerth's guards to know any of it.

After roughly half an hour of waiting, the door was opened from the outside. The head of a soldier peeked inside and inspected him. The soldier bowed and left. Only seconds later, the door opened again and a well-dressed man of middling age stepped into the house. From memory, Damian knew that this was Duke Gerth.

The man in question sat down at the table as well, looking at Damian with an intense gaze. "I must confess that this meeting is a surprise, Lord Ochs. Your dislike for me is an open secret."

That opening statement was interesting. There was genuine curiosity in it but also an olive branch. The Duke had addressed him as Lord, not Baron, de-emphasising the gap in their tier of nobility. Baron was the lowest rank of Fodlan's major nobles, after all. However, contrary to what one might assume, being addressed as Lord, the simple address for minor nobles, by a noble of equal or higher status was not seen as an insult. Instead, it was a gesture of concession and an invitation to speak on equal grounds. And so, it appeared that the meeting would bear fruit.

"That is true, my Lord," conceded Damian, "However, the aid you provided me during the war has not been forgotten. it is also well-known that you do not get along with the other members of the Empire's high nobility."

"Is that the reason for this meeting, then?" asked the Duke.

"In part" answered Damian.

"Oh?"

"There are matters concerning the Empire and Fodlan as a whole which we must discuss," elaborated the Baron.

The Duke nodded. "That is my area of expertise, but why did you request a meeting with me and why here of all places?" With that, he alluded to his position as Minister of Foreign Affairs, more commonly known as Minister of the Exterior.

"Before I explain that," began the Baron, "I wish to ask you a question. Was it worth it?"

The man across the table considered the question carefully before answering, "The Insurrection? Initially, I thought so. I saw the beginning stages of tyranny and I acted with the best interest of the Empire in mind. You must understand that I was looking at historical precedence. A century ago, Albinea went up in flames because its king seized power. Tens of thousands died." He sighed. "Sadly, I have since come to re-evaluate the matter. The other major nobles have mismanaged the Empire badly. The treasury is still in good condition, but it is so at the expense of the commoners. Corruption runs rampant, taxes have gone up, general discontent is spreading and the internal stability of our nation is deteriorating rapidly. Not to mention the bandit infestation in your lands and those formerly held by Viscount Nuvelle."

"Count Nuvelle," corrected Damian, "You know full well that his elevation to the rank was confirmed, even if the Insurrection happened a week after."

"Count Nuvelle," allowed the Duke. The Baron was right, after all. The thing that had held the late head of House Nuvelle back had been the pettiness and envy of Duke Aegir. "Now then," he continued, "Please proceed with your explanation of this meeting's purpose."

Damian inclined his head. "I have recently been made aware of threats to the Empire and the rest of Fodlan. These are documents retrieved by spies of myself and associates which should illustrate some of them." He pointed to a stack of parchments and papers on the table before he grabbed it and put it in front of the Duke.

Duke Gerth took the time to look over some of these documents. Most were centred around the Western Church and its interactions with Lord Arundel beginning around the time of the Tragedy of Duscur. He almost dismissed it as unimportant when he noticed certain patterns. Donations re-routed, missions into Nuvelle territory not on record with the Ministry of the Exterior and strange incomes labelled as donations from out of said territory.

With more attention on the documents' contents, the Duke delved further into them. The mysterious donations from Nuvelle territory turned out to be a thin veneer for illicit business. Smuggling, extortion, sponsorship of bandits, poaching and the worst of all, human trafficking. The blood in his veins first froze, then boiled. Somebody was selling the Empire's citizens off to Goddess-knows-whom. That was unacceptable. Somebody was going to die for this.

As he slowly composed himself, the Duke noticed that outside, a ruckus had started. Shouts and screams were ringing in the distance. Vary, he turned to Baron Ochs. "What is going on here?" he demanded.

Damian answered, "Arundel is not just involved with the Western Church. Some of my people have stumbled across more evidence of his rampant degeneracy while they were investigating rumours of an artifact on the black market. Our meeting is taking place here because my soldiers are currently securing that artifact and creating a distraction."

"A distraction for what?" pressed the Duke.

"A distraction for Duke Aegir and Marquis Vestra," explained Baron Ochs. "I wished for an undisturbed audience with His Majesty and decided to hit three birds with one stone. My people are retrieving the artifact, I'm having a meeting with you and His Majesty will soon join us while his personal guards support my troops."

Duke Gerth stared at the Baron. "You are a very dangerous person," he said. "How could you even contact His Majesty without the notice of the others?"

Damian smirked. "People tend to underestimate the strategic importance of janitorial staff. You have no idea what messages can be spelled in the dust of a man's personal quarters." The smirk vanished quickly, however. "Now, back to the matter at hand. I want you to have a look at these."

A second, smaller stack of papers was handed to the Duke, who looked at them with trepidation. As he began reading, his brows furrowed. He did not understand many of the terms used in the documents, though he could spot references to Arundel, two unknown figures called Thales an Myson, references to the "Children of Man", Ordelia territory and a whole lot of talk about Crests and subjects.

"What is this?" he finally asked after a few minutes of trying to make sense of the first few pages.

The grim look on Baron Ochs' face did not inspire happy thoughts as he answered, "These are transcripts of research logs and various conversations, made by a concerned, sneaky scribe in the Imperial Palace. They detail the inhumane treatment of His Majesty's children, their confinement, the experiments performed on them, their deaths and those involved. They are but a glimpse of what is to come if our enemies succeed. Read on."

Duke Gerth complied and continued to read. As he did so, he grew progressively more agitated. He was visibly revolted by what he was reading. The methods of torture that had been employed with the silent endorsement of Duke Aegir and the active support of Lord Arundel sickened him.

These are the kind of people I helped gain power over Adrestia?

With disgust, he continued reading while Baron Ochs sat there in grim silence, only disturbed by the sounds of battle from outside. This state of affairs continued for several more minutes and was eventually interrupted by a heavy knocking on the door.

When the door swung inward, a small unit of soldiers bearing Hresvelg heraldry entered the room, surveying it. Once they were satisfied, one of them turned back and shouted, "All clear!" Following this statement, another soldier walked in, escorting the Emperor.

Emperor Ionius XI was an old man, being well over seventy years old. He also appeared quite sickly, coughing a few times as he entered the house. His gaunt stature and his face conveyed the image of a melancholy man whose hardships had left him broken.

Nevertheless, Baron Ochs and Duke Gerth stood up and bowed formally. The former spoke, "Your Majesty, you honour us with your presence."

Ionius inclined his head and slowly made his way over to the table, where the soldier helped him sit down. "Be seated," he said and waited for them to do so. When both of them were sitting in their respective chairs again, he came right to the point. "Baron Ochs, I have received your note. It said that you are in possession of information vital to the Empire's continued existence."

"Yes, Your Majesty," replied Damian. He went on, "As you are aware, my daughter was abducted from the premises of Garreg Mach Monastery some time ago and later rescued. There is more to it, however. The abduction that occurred was an effort to pre-empt others who had planned to take her for malicious reasons. Spies have revealed that those who sought to harm her are members of the same group responsible for the fate of your children."

The Emperor stiffened. His eyes narrowed. "What do you intend to do? What do you wish to achieve here?" he asked.

Baron Ochs uttered a single word that lit a fire within the old man. "Revenge."

A dangerous glint appeared in Ionius' eyes. He loved the sound of that. Yes, he would have his revenge, and those who had wronged his family would tremble.

A grin broke out on my face as I watched the monitor in front of me. Things were flickering across it at an incredible rate and yet I had no problem going through all this digital information. Indeed, the aspect of my powers I had inherited from Prometheus were coming along nicely. I did not even have to touch the devices anymore for them to work.

Speaking of touch, I had regained my solid body astonishingly quickly. The reddish black was now mostly present as just a small glow around me. In that regard, it was similar to Sothis' green glow. It was good to no longer be able to look through my body parts. Though, I had noticed, I could disperse myself into motes of light at will, which wasn't that weird when my name and the associated domain were considered.

Apart from the wings, and wasn't it strange to have those now, which had kept their colour scheme, the rest of my body had reverted to its normal colouring. My skin was like that of a normal human of my ancestry, my hair was brown again and even the multitude of old scars and my freckles were all there. The only anomaly I had noticed so far was that my hair and fingernails would glow white for a few minutes at both sunrise and sunset.

Fortunately for everyone involved, my clothes had come back into existence too. It would have been kind of embarrassing to walk around Byleth's mindscape naked. It would also have been rude to him and Sothis both, most notably because the latter's restored adult appearance might have started to have certain… effects on me. It was better to not invite frequent smacks to the head.

Discarding these thoughts, I concentrated on the screen in front of me and checked some files I had written earlier, adding things here and there. They were mostly about the active plans at this time. We were still in the opening phase of this war and we had the advantage, but beginning from next month, that was liable to change.

The Agarthans would soon notice that somebody was targeting their interests specifically. Retaliation was going to be inevitable. They were probably already suspecting something. Kronya's presence at Magdred Way indicated as much. It was a dangerous game which we were playing.

"What's this?" came an inquisitive voice from behind me.

I turned around and said, "I'm just checking up on the mess we've made of Fodlan's politics, Sothis."

She laughed. "A right mess it is," she agreed.

I took in her features, something I was finding myself quite often these days, much to my guilt. She had stopped "aging" last week, bearing the appearance of a very beautiful and voluptuous woman in her mid-twenties. It was abundantly clear where Rhea and the female version of Byleth got their figures from.

The problem, or at least one of them, was that she was my friend. I had no intention of jeopardising our friendship by perving on her constantly, no matter how difficult that was going to be. Sadly, that was probably a pipe dream. If she hadn't noticed the nature of my gazes in her direction yet, she would soon. The most I could do with the situation was to enjoy the good times while they lasted.

Fortunately, there was a distraction from such thoughts for now. I pulled up another bunch of files, these ones detailing thaumaturgic magic and plans for Sothis' resurrection ritual. I moved the monitor lightly so she could have a better look at the screen.

"What do you think?" I asked, "Do you think it will work?"

"Hmm… It does look promising," she said. She hummed pensively for a little longer while she read a bit more in depth. "I see one big issue here, though."

"Yeah. The thing requires you to be complete in spirit," I agreed, seeing the problem. Being complete in spirit meant that all her memories would have to be restored before the ritual could happen. I added, "Combined with the fact that we need to do it either during the Rite of Rebirth or on Samhain, it's likely going to be a year or longer until we can actually conduct the ritual. We certainly won't have all the components ready by next month's end and it's unlikely we'll have them by this year's Samhain."

Sothis sighed. "At least we'll have more time to spot mistakes in the formula. You'd best not screw this up or I'll haunt you for eternity!"

I laughed lightly. "Never," I said with a smile.

Then, with a playful grin, I reached up from where I was sitting and put my hand on her head again, waiting for her adorably indignant response. It came swiftly.

"Hey!" she shouted, though she made no move to dislodge my hand.

"You should know by now that I can't resist the lure of your head," I teased.

Sothis' pout did little to disperse my amusement and I continued for a few seconds longer before I withdrew my hand. No need to actually make her upset.

"Alright, enough research for today," I said. "It's dinner time outside and we should take some time to relax before we get back to managing prayers."

The Goddess in front of me nodded in agreement. "It's fulfilling work, but it can be a bit tiring. I'm glad you're taking it seriously."

"I'm a God now," I stated bluntly, "Which means I have responsibilities, especially as God of the Dead. I'll eventually manage every single sentient being who has died at some point, at least if I can't cart them off to another afterlife than the Underworld. Starting with prayer seems like a good first step along that road, even if I don't really have any followers."

"Yet," corrected Sothis, "You'll eventually get followers. You're unknown right now, but every God eventually gathers followers, even those who really shouldn't. If Apophis could get people to worship him, you'll manage too."

I grimaced. "I'm not really sure if I want that. You know that I follow another God. The thought of being worshipped makes me uncomfortable."

She put her hand on my shoulder and squeezed it lightly. "You said it yourself, this is practise. You'll find a solution eventually," she said.

A small smile found its way on my face as I responded, "Thanks for the vote of confidence. Maybe I'll just send their faith further up the ladder if that's possible. I hope it is."

"See? That's one possible solution already," she said, smiling as well. Said smile took on a wistful quality together with the rest of her face. She added, "It's just… with all but a handful of my Children gone from this world, the mortality of those close to us will become rather painfully evident within a century. I… I'm just glad that you'll still be there."

Sothis leaned down and wrapped her arms tightly around me, unintentionally giving me a good view of her chest. However, for once, I had no trouble ignoring it. Comforting her was more important right now.

I stood up to return the gesture and pulled her close to me. I closed my eyes and rested my head on hers while I rubbed her back gently. "I swear to you right here and now, I will do whatever I can to make sure that you won't spend eternity in loneliness."

Her grip around me tightened as she buried her face in my neck. "Don't make promises you can't keep," she whispered.

"I'll keep this one," I said firmly. My eyes opened again, but I did not let go of her. On the contrary, I held her tighter.

I didn't quite know why I had made that oath, but I knew that I felt strongly about it. She was important to me and I didn't want her to feel the pain of loneliness, that much I knew.

I continued to hold her and stared at my wrist.

AN:

Alright folks, that's a wrap. I'm sorry for the week-long delay for this chapter. Hades and the SCP Foundation have consumed what free time I had next to other private issues lately. Nevertheless, I hope you enjoyed this chapter, dear readers. The next one should be on the regular update schedule again.

Should you find egregious errors, please notify my via review or PM. I'm publishing this almost completely unedited because I really wanted to get this chapter out before July.

Now, as for the chapter itself, things are heating up and canon is burning on the pyre. The plot is going off the rails. Let's see what you guys and girls think of it.

This chapter's story recommendation is actually not a fanfiction. Instead, I recommend to you the criminally underappreciated manga Psyren by Toshiaki Iwashiro, in which Ageha Yoshina, a troublemaking high school student, gets embroiled in a mysterious "game" within the equally mysterious land of Psyren after he follows up on a classmate's desperate plea for salvation. The manga is 17 volumes long (144 chapters, I think) and definitely worth a read.

And with that, I bid you a good day. Until next time.