Chapter 17: The Edict

There would be a lot of work for me to do in the near future. I could already tell as much. It was an unfortunate truth that I would have to oversee the ridiculous brainchild of a building Erebus and Nyx had conceived on top of everything else. Fortunately, it was a low-priority thing compared to the others. For one, I finally wanted to complete a few spell ideas, especially the railgun spell, to supplement our firepower. Another matter was my promise to Sothis and the associated difficulties, though it appeared it would simpler than I had feared. Then there was also the issue with Byleth.

That last point concerned me quite a bit. It might not have been very obvious, but I was pretty sure that he had sustained some mental trauma from what had happened today. He'd appear like he'd gotten over it incredibly fast, but it would come back to haunt him at unexpected times because he couldn't deal with emotions whose impact he wasn't noticing. I knew it would be like that. I was the same, really. It was fortunate that my powers over the soul would help speed along his recovery, though.

Speaking of powers and their consequences, I was dreading the construction process of my palace. On the one hand, no critical resources would be put into it, seeing as all those working on it would be volunteering wretches of Tartarus, whose punishment would be suspended for the duration of the construction. Building materials were also never in short supply in the literally infinite realms of the dead to which the Underworld belonged and over which I had nominal authority. On the other hand, I would have to be there to give my input on how I wanted the place to look like. That would normally not be a problem, but I could guess that "small and modest" would not be accepted as answer, leading to bursts of creativity from my new subordinates. Worst thing was, I knew that I wouldn't be able to be there all the time, meaning that such bursts would happen a lot. The smug bastards knew it too.

My visit to the two had yielded some interesting answers about how the different afterlives worked, however. Essentially, the Ein Sof Aur handled the transition of souls to the afterlives in the absence of deities and psychopomps who would usually be responsible for that duty. Interestingly enough, as I had learned, it was one of the reasons why Sothis hadn't been recovering very fast on her own.

From there on, the souls of the dead would be funnelled to their appropriate afterlives, which depended on both their faith and their general disposition. This type of administrative work was handled by the Primordials that had returned from the Darkness of Zahras, mainly ones like Tartarus, Erebus, Moros, Izanami and a few others. It was good that so many people were taking on this task since gates and portals to thousands of different afterlives were littered throughout the Underworld.

The God of the Dead, which was my position, was a sort of linchpin that kept the whole thing going. There used to be many, of course, but only one was necessary. The system had been set up in this way because redundancies were a smart thing to implement when it came to the proper handling of souls. There was still more to the job, but I would learn most of it along the way.

Leaving that be for now, I thought back on my magic projects. It appeared prudent to me to shift my priorities there and expand a bit on what I wanted to do. With the railgun spell nearing completion, I would soon have a new magic project on my hands. Working with more healing spells was still on the table, of course, but I couldn't ignore the benefits of working with alchemy, specifically transmutation. The logistics advantage alone was worth working on it, never mind the potential for combat.

In that aspect, I had learnt that a form of it was extremely widely practiced in Fodlan. I had to admit that I hadn't really thought about why everything was so suspiciously sanitary everywhere we went, initially. The absence of stench was also quite strange in retrospect. As it turned out, one of the most widely known utility spells, one that could be cast even by magically illiterate people, was used for waste disposal. It was no wonder that everything was so damn hygienic when you could get rid of excrement with the wave of a hand.

The spell itself was incredibly fascinating because it dipped both into Reason as well as Faith. It specifically targeted what its caster thought of as waste (the Faith aspect) and then turned it into harmless molecular combinations of its components (the Reason aspect). Notable was a conspicuous lack of carbon-dioxide, as all carbon turned into coal, graphite, diverse oils (potentially explaining the significant deposit of crude oil in Faerghus) or benign carbon compounds. Another interesting thing was the inclusion of a safety feature that prevented transmutation of any materials other than waste into anything else other than relatively harmless substances. Whoever invented this thing was a damn genius.

Disappointingly, no other spell that anyone in our group knew of had these features. One of the personal hygiene spells known to some appeared similar, but instead of transmuting matter, it only displaced it, specifically to the floor, where the waste disposal spell would then be used. It was unfortunate, but there was at least a starting point.

With that list done, I dedicated some time to the final topic of my nightly ruminations: my promise to Sothis. I even had a good idea on how to fulfil it, actually. The principle behind the solution was laughably simple when thinking back on a previous topic: I was the God of the Dead. If anyone close to either of us died, I would be able to find them. The true difficulty lay in tracking that soul down and making it possible for it to communicate with a living person. Barring that, I would need to find a way for Sothis to come to the Underworld without dying or getting stuck in it. And if neither of these things worked, I would find another way. There would never be an eternity of loneliness for Sothis.

That was the last thing I could think of before coherent thought became an annoyance. Though I really didn't need sleep anymore, I still appreciated it, and I wondered whether someone, specifically Edelgard, would try to contact me. So, I closed my eyes and waited for my consciousness to fade.

When I regained awareness, I was surrounded by grey mist, as expected. Somebody was indeed praying to me and, considering the dearth of people who knew about me, it was most likely the Princess. That suspicion proved to be true quite soon.

"Hyperion?" I heard her voice call out.

Deciding to have a bit of fun, I greatly overexaggerated as I said, "Yes, it is I! The one and only magnificent me!"

There was a small pause. "Was that really necessary?" asked Edelgard.

"Why, yes," I answered, "It's always a good idea to maintain a certain measure of levity, especially on dreary days such as this one."

"I see," muttered Edelgard. Her voice was a bit louder as she commented, "The Professor did warn me about your sense of humour."

I couldn't help but grumble, "Everyone's a bloody critic, I swear."

Edelgard gave a light snort, but then her voice turned serious. "There are some things I wanted to ask you."

"Go ahead," I said.

"That armour of light around the Professor, was that your work?" she asked.

"Yes," I answered, "The helmet too. That is the device's base state."

The Princess' tone was slightly doubtful as she continued her questioning. "Last time we spoke, you mentioned that you could not grant any boons, yet the Professor clearly bears one. How is that?"

I made a noise of understanding. "Ah, I see. There is a saying back home called 'the devil lies in the details.' It's fairly applicable here. I said that I wasn't experienced enough to hand out boons you might have wanted, not that I couldn't hand out any at all. Plus, Byleth is a bit of a special case. The metaphysical distance between him and myself is far smaller than between the two of us."

Her voice wavered a bit. "I… do not quite follow."

"Categorise it as divine nonsense if you must. I certainly would in your place," I responded.

"…Very well," she reluctantly accepted. "There is another thing," she began warily, "It appears that you did give me a boon. What exactly did you do to my soul?"

"Yes, I imagine a foreign being touching your soul is cause for concern," I said, "If it's any consolation, I didn't really think much about it. I just wanted to do you a favour. As for what exactly I did, I weakened the emotional impact of your traumatic memories. To clarify, I didn't need to see them to do this and no, I didn't make the emotions associated with these events any less deep. I merely lessened the side effects."

"What guarantee do I have that you're telling the truth?" she asked.

My voice carried my disbelief as I answered, "Your soul is the innermost centre of your being, the true you. If somebody tried to manipulate it, you'd feel it, believe me. Plus, such manipulations don't last all that long unless it's mutilation or destruction we're talking about."

"But how and why would I feel that?" Edelgard countered with another question.

"Princess," I told her in a flat tone, "That's like asking you how and why you would feel getting stabbed. Your AT field would definitely register any hostile intrusion."

It appeared that that last morsel of information had its intended effect. "What is an ay-tee field?" she asked.

I responded, "Now you're asking the good questions! AT stands for Absolute Territory. The AT field is generated by your soul and has several important functions. It maintains your sense of self, shields your soul from outside influences and keeps it attached to your body for as long as it is capable of sustaining life. It can also be used for more conventional defence and offence with sufficient power and effort. The power source for the field is energy generated by the soul. In that sense, you could consider it a form of magic."

Edelgard took a moment to process this. "I see," she said, "Is there a way to notice this field's use or use it myself?"

I grinned. She was a smart one, wasn't she? "That's another good question," I answered, "And I'll say that you've already seen an AT field in use today. It was big, flashy and hexagonal, a trademark feature of defensive AT field usage."

"The Professor's barrier," she breathed out.

"Right on the money," I responded, "That was me superimposing my own AT field over his. While he's learned how to use his own, I have far more power at my disposal, and when I do it, he doesn't have to concentrate on it either."

"…But it had consequences, didn't it?" asked Edelgard.

I answered, "Right again. He has a mortal body and mortal bodies are not suited to channel divine power by default. There hadn't been sufficient time to acclimate his body to such powers and yet he channelled three different divine aspects through it, two of which were mine."

"And the third?" she pressed.

I snorted, "What do you think is the reason for the Archbishop's interest in Byleth?"

"You mean the Goddess? How?" demanded the young woman.

"Yep, Sothis is helping him out too," I answered, "As for the how, I'm not sure I should tell you that yet, but I can guarantee you that you will know in time."

"Very well," she responded, though I could spot some dissatisfaction in her tone. "I have one last question for tonight, then," she said.

"Go on," I prompted.

"You said you had two divine aspects. What are they?" she asked.

"Not quite," I began, "I said that Byleth channelled two of my divine aspects, not that they were the only two. I'll answer nevertheless. My divine aspects are thus: Light and Wisdom as the first, Fire, Invention and Innovation as the second, Soul as the third, and the Dead as the fourth."

Her tone was apprehensive as she followed up. "The Dead?"

"Why, yes," I said, "Souls last forever. They need to find their resting places and I am in charge of overseeing most of those. Some, like Sothis' section of Heaven, my own Adonai's Heaven or True Hell are beyond my purview though."

"Could… could you look for specific people?" She asked in a small voice.

I had not expected that shift in tone. I decided to answer honestly, "I'm trying to find that out myself right now. Don't forget, I'm still new to my powers."

"I see," she responded dejectedly.

After a few seconds of awkward silence, I picked up again, "Well, it seems we're done for tonight. But before you go, would you like me to do some more soul-soothing?"

"I…," she hesitated, "Yes. Do it slowly, though. I want to observe."

"As you wish," I said.

I reached out and connected to her. I made my contact with her soul exceedingly obvious and did the process of soothing it slower than usual. The almost bristly surface of her AT field soon smoothed itself as it registered that I was not a threat and before long, I could work on the things that were out of place.

I began with the rough, jagged edges indicative of trauma, many of which were gently rounded and reintegrated into the soul matrix with ease, though it would take a few sessions more to get rid of all of them. Next, I looked for the twisted outgrowths that symbolised depression. Fortunately, I found very little of those and had them unwound quickly. Lastly, I checked for the deep holes that signified obsessions and found one or two. Those, I filled and smoothed over carefully. After that, I slowly withdrew from her soul.

"Is that alright?" I asked.

"Yes," answered Edelgard, "I feel… calm and at peace. Feeling the process was mesmerising"

"That's good to hear. Now then, I think we're finished for tonight. Sweet dreams, Princess," I said.

"A good night to you as well, Hyperion. And… thank you," she responded. With that, her presence faded away from prayer space.

That had been an interesting conversation. Maybe I had given away too much information, but I had decided some time ago to put my trust into her. Things would go tits up anyway, regardless of whether she betrayed us or not.

A minute or two passed without further incident and I was beginning to wonder why I hadn't left prayer space yet when I felt a new presence.

"Uhm… Hello? Lord Hyperion?" I heard a voice. This one was male. I couldn't recognise it.

"Yes, that is my name. Who are you?" I answered.

"I am Marcus, my Lord. The Goddess bade me to… to pray to you to answer some of my questions," said the man.

Damn it, Sothis!

2nd day of the Blue Sea Moon 1180. Western Church headquarters.

Yesterday's battle had been fought well. Progress had been made quickly and the loss of life was within acceptable range for such an operation. The knights, men-at-arms, mercenaries and students had all done well. Part of that was the questionable decisions of the Western Church, of course, but the ability of her own forces was still the major contribution to that.

The Western Church's defences, on the other hand, had been undermanned thanks to the sizeable forces they had sent to the Rhodos Coast and in the direction of Garreg Mach. The latter would find itself surprised once they tried getting into the Holy Mausoleum this month.

The losses within the Central Church's army had been kept quite low, all in all. Less than 500 dead, just a bit over 1'000 casualties in total. In a direct assault on a fortified position held by some 1'500, that was as good as anyone could hope.

The point at which everything had nearly devolved into a disaster, however, had been the assault on the central compound. The explosion in the east wing had nearly killed everyone there, from students to mercenaries and Professors and, worst of all, her precious grandson.

Rhea had been displeased with the coward who had relayed false orders. At least he had been caught trying to flee the camp last night. He would come to regret endangering her family.

Right now, that was not important, however. She was busy waiting by Byleth's bedside in one of the medical tents. Mother had assured her last night during prayer that he would wake up today. He would be sore and in pain but otherwise unharmed.

She gently brushed through his hair and reminded herself that she was lucky to have him. With what he knew about her, he could have easily rejected her, yet he had accepted her as family and given her a chance to be better. It was a chance she was embracing with her entire being no matter how hard it would be.

"Lady Rhea," came a voice from the entrance of the tent.

The Archbishop turned her head to look at the one who had spoken. The man was one of the two members of her personal guard she had posted at the entrance.

"What is it?" she asked with slight irritation. She did not appreciate being interrupted while spending time with her family.

"The Professor's students are here, Your Grace. They wish to visit him," said the guard.

Rhea sighed softly. She had expected this, though she wasn't looking forward to this meeting. Fortunately, the anti-eavesdropping spells were already up. "Send them in," she said.

The guard bowed, then left the tent. A few seconds later, the Golden Deer students walked in. Nothing was said for quite some time, though. They only bore witness to Rhea brushing her fingers through Byleth's hair.

"This must look strange to you," she said, not looking away from him.

"It kind of does, yes," mentioned Claude.

The nonchalant response stunned most of the other students. Hilda, however, complained, "Claude! You can't just say it like that."

Lorenz added his own comment, "While I take issue with Claude's uncouth tone, I must admit that I am curious as well."

Rhea hummed a short tune to Byleth before she answered, "I wished to keep this secret for much longer so as to shield him from undue scrutiny, but yesterday's events have made him subject to public attention regardless, rendering that course of action inapplicable. The truth is that your Professor, Byleth, is my grandson."

"No way! You're way too young to be a grandma!" shouted Raphael.

The Archbishop couldn't help herself. She laughed heartily, even as the faces of most students shifted to mortification. It had been far too long since she had been able to do that. "I thank you for the compliment and the laugh, Raphael," she said with mirth, "but I am indeed his grandmother. I may look quite young to you, but this appearance is the result of the blessing of longevity."

"Like the Ten Elites?" pressed Claude.

Marianne and Hilda froze. They knew that this was a very sensitive topic. "Claude, I think you should stop asking questions like that," said Marianne.

"But why?" asked Claude, "It would make sense, wouldn't it? The Ten Elites are said to have live unnaturally long lives as a consequence of being blessed by the Goddess. Shouldn't that be the same for the Archbishop?"

"There are similarities," spoke Rhea, all traces of good humour gone from her voice, "And I did receive this blessing from the Goddess, but our cases are different."

The tanned youth followed up, "How?"

The uncharacteristically firm voice of Marianne gave him pause, however. "Claude. Stop asking."

"Come on, I only-"

"Just stop," said Marianne with finality.

Claude finally conceded. "Alright, alright. No need for the stern face."

Rhea shot Marianne an appreciative look and resumed her vigil over Byleth, who had begun stirring slightly while they had been talking. It wouldn't be long now.

Eventually, the young Professor let out a pained groan and his eyelids started to flutter. It appeared that he was still feeling the strain, even though the healers had fixed almost all the damage he had sustained. Therefore, it took some time for his eyes to open fully.

A smile graced Rhea's lips as she greeted him, "Good morning, Byleth."

"Good morning," he answered groggily.

The students piped in as well, "Good morning, Professor."

Byleth's eyes were quick to regain their focus as he looked at the students before him. An almost unnoticeable tension left his body upon spotting all of them. He smiled very faintly and said, "I'm glad you're safe. Are the others alright too?"

It was Leonie who answered, "Apart from a few scrapes and bruises from the debris, no one was seriously wounded in the explosion."

"Good," said Byleth in response.

"The magic you used was impressive and so was that light you used. Where did you learn that?" asked Lysithea.

"It was more of a blessing than a spell," answered Byleth.

"A blessing?" questioned Lysithea.

Rhea butted in at that point. "Allow me to explain," she began, "The Goddess has answered more prayers over the last few months than in the last few centuries. She is returning to this world, and she is not returning alone."

"Not alone? What is that supposed to mean?" asked Ignatz.

The Archbishop's voice carried steel as she answered, "Do not spread what I am about to tell you without my explicit permission. Doing so shall be punished along the same lines as malign heresy. This information has the potential to destabilise all of Fodlan."

That didn't quite make sense to Claude. "Then why are you telling us this in the first place?"

"I do so because the Goddess has commanded me to do so," she said, "And because you will no doubt witness more events relating to this topic." After a short pause, she continued, "As you recall, Garreg Mach was recently the site of an incident with pale black-clad individuals. What you have not known until now is that their affiliation is no mystery to the uppermost echelon of the Church.

They are ancient enemies of the Goddess who existed long before Nemesis, before even the arrival of the Goddess in Fodlan. They used to be those who led humanity and used that position of power to wage war against the Goddess. While they were defeated, they were never truly destroyed, and have plotted since that day to destroy the Goddess. And, in Nemesis' time, they nearly succeeded."

Shocked silence was the response she received. She went on, "The war had left the world in ruins and so, the Goddess was forced to use all her power to restore it and bring life back onto it. It is why the Church calls her the Progenitor God. She was the Beginning of the world after it had ended. Sadly, the act of restoring the world left her weak and near death. She fell into a deep sleep and did not wake until very recently.

However, with her enemies returning as well, she has received aid. A new God by the name of Hyperion has appeared. It was his power that Byleth used during yesterday's battle. I do not know much about him, except that he claims to have been human once."

"That's because you don't talk to him much," interjected Byleth.

"Does that mean you do, Professor?" asked Ignatz.

Byleth nodded. "Yes," he said, "He likes to talk when the mood strikes him."

That seemed to pique Claude's interest, so he asked his own question, "What has he recently talked about most?"

The occupants of the tent were treated to a chuckle from the young Professor. It was a rare sight. "Irritation at becoming widely known in the future," he said.

"Why would he be irritated? Isn't that what Gods want?" asked Leonie.

The answer Byleth gave was not what any of them were expecting. "Hyperion says he doesn't want any of that, I quote, 'cult and religious wars bullshit.'"

Rhea picked up again there, "It is why the Goddess has commanded me to share this information now. She is… unhappy with some of the things the Church of Seiros has done in her absence and has declared that there will be sweeping reforms, including the addition of Hyperion to the pantheon. Such things take time, however, and drastic change such as this can lead to unrest and even war. However, with war already approaching, it would be unwise not to use the storm to find new harbours."

That statement halted the thoughts of most in the tent. "What do you mean by that?" demanded Lorenz.

"General unrest is mounting," began Rhea, "Your father is stirring up trouble in the Alliance, as you well know. The Hrym region of the Empire is just short of openly revolting. The different internal factions of the Empire are at each other's throats and tensions there are mounting. There have been concerning rumours about Prince-Regent Rufus coming out of Fhirdiad lately. The Western Church has rebelled. The ancient enemies of the Goddess are returning. Need I say more?"

Lorenz made a grimace at the mention of his father, but he couldn't deny the truth of the statement. "That is… concerning," he said.

"I'll make sure you all survive this," declared Byleth. His voice was calm, but it held steel and the fire of determination shone in his eyes. "You will live to see this world become a better place." He looked intently at Lysithea and then at Marianne. "All of you," he finished.

The two of them flinched slightly, much to the confusion of most others. They, apart from Hilda, had no clue why Marianne reacted like that. Rhea, on the other hand, knew the circumstances of both their predicaments and agreed with her grandson's goal. It was a worthy one.

"You need not concern yourselves with such heavy matters for now, however," added Rhea, "Yesterday's battle was hard-fought and all of us should take some more time to recover."

8th day of the Blue Sea Moon 1180. Garreg Mach Monastery.

The students of the three Houses and the Archbishop had returned to the Monastery in short order. The Rite of the Goddess' Rebirth would take place at the end of the month and there were still many preparations to complete. Among them was the surprise for the Western Church's detachment.

For the students, however, this month was mostly reserved for recreation. Outside of class and training, most of them would likely go about their various hobbies. Byleth was already making plans to join them once or twice along the way.

Sadly, there was one shadow hanging over that prospect. Said shadow was the reason why he was in the Archbishop's audience chamber. With him were Manuela and Edelgard, representing the Black Eagles. The reason for their presence was clear as day, Byleth considered as he read the piece of parchment Rhea had handed them.

By order of His Imperial Majesty Emperor Ionius IX and so confirmed by Duke Harold von Gerth, Minister of Foreign Affairs, an edict has been issued with the following effects:

1. For reasons of mismanagement, incompetence and malpractice, Lord Volkhard von Arundel, Regent of the Empire, is hereby stripped of his overlordship of former Nuvelle territory.

2. House Nuvelle is officially restored to the Imperial Peerage with the rank of Count under the new Countess Constance von Nuvelle. Regency is granted to Duke Gerth until such time as the Countess is deemed fit to rule her territory.

3. Proof of widespread banditry, corruption and crime up to and including human trafficking in Nuvelle territory has been confirmed. These criminal activities must be stopped. For this purpose, a task force is to be assembled.

3.1. The task force is to be led by Baron Damian von Ochs on land and by Duke Gerth at sea.

3.2. The task force is authorised to employ any means necessary to restore order.

3.3. The task force is to be funded by the Imperial Treasury.

This was accompanied by a second document in which Emperor Ionius had requested the aid of the Church for the campaign in accordance with the terms of the covenant between the red blood and the white sword. However, it was the part that wasn't a request that posed a problem.

Crown Princess Edelgard and Countess Constance, both being of age and therefore capable of taking on this responsibility, are hereby ordered to join the assault on the port city of Nuvelle. It is their duty to the suffering people of Nuvelle territory. They may bring whatever retinue they can assemble.

"What do you think of this, Edelgard?" asked Rhea.

"I think that my father has finally found his spine again," commented Edelgard, causing Manuela to display an aghast expression.

"That is no way to talk about your own father, Edelgard!" she complained.

The Princess clarified, "Do not mistake my remark for disdain. I love my father, but the events following the Insurrection left him broken. It is good that he has found his strength again. Yet, this is concerning."

"Is this about the attack you've been ordered to join?" asked Manuela.

Edelgard shook her head. "No," she said, "That was to be expected. The heir to the throne must demonstrate that she has the strength to sit upon it. Constance, wherever she is, will also need to prove herself to the people of the territory she will rule. The true concern here is everything surrounding it."

Manuela thought for a bit. "It is a bit sudden, yes," she admitted, "And it's going to make a few people angry, but restoring order is not something to be concerned about."

"The Emperor is risking a civil war," interjected Byleth.

Manuela blinked. "What?"

"Professor Byleth is correct," answered Edelgard, "My father has taken action and given orders without the Prime Minister's input. He has also moved against my uncle, Lord Arundel, Regent of the Empire. At once, he is limiting the authority of two other Ministers. Count Bergliez will not be happy that he will not be in command of the task force's troops on land."

"What about the sea?" asked Byleth.

"He has always considered the Imperial Navy to be unnecessary and useless. It has long since been under the command of the Minister of Foreign affairs. Count Bergliez often mocks Duke Gerth, saying that a bunch of dead wood is all he has for a domain. While it is true that Duke Gerth does not have any lands beyond his mansion, such thinking is naïve."

Byleth was in disbelief. How could anyone believe the navy to be useless? They had fought a war against Dagda only a few years ago! "Is he stupid?" he couldn't help but blurt out.

Edelgard snorted, then laughed. Rhea, too, showed signs of mirth on her face. "He just might be," said the Princess with a smile after she had finally calmed down a bit.

A short while later, Manuela remembered to ask the question that had been left open, "But who is the other Minister His Majesty has slighted?"

The look of amusement fled Edelgard's face at once. "Count Hevring," she said, "He is the Minister of Internal Affairs. By ordering the Imperial Treasury to fund the task force, Father has circumvented Count Hevring's authority. He either lets it slide, which means losing face in the eye of the other major nobles, or he refuses, which means he will be losing face in the eye of the people. He would have to explain just why he thinks that endorsing the enslavement and sale of the Empire's citizens is acceptable."

Rhea commented as well, "Coupled with the recent armed conflict within the walls of Enbarr, the position of the nobles in charge of the Empire has been weakened considerably. They will soon attempt to reverse the momentum. Civil war is the likely outcome of this power struggle."

Edelgard stiffened. "Armed conflict in Enbarr?" she asked.

"During a visit in Enbarr about two weeks ago, Duke Gerth was caught in the middle of a battle between publicly unknown factions. Marquis Vestra failed to restore order before Emperor Ionius could. It has cost him political capital," explained Rhea.

Manuela raised an eyebrow at that. "Publicly unknown?"

Rhea answered, "It was a fight between Baron Ochs' troops, black market enforcers and Agarthans."

"So, he followed our advice," remarked Byleth.

"He did. The Relic has already been delivered," said Rhea.

"What Relic?" asked Edelgard.

Byleth answered this time, "We heard of rumours about a Hero's Relic on the black market in Enbarr. We notified Baron Ochs and he investigated the lead."

"The Relic is not one belonging to the Ten Elites and is attuned to the Crest of Chevalier. Fortunately, a bearer of this Crest is within the Monastery and will likely assist young Constance in your upcoming battle," elaborated Rhea.

"I see. That is good to hear," said Edelgard.

The Archbishop picked up again, "This brings us to the topic of your presence here, Professors. I have decided that the Church will assent to the Emperor's request. The main army will be resupplied and sent to assist Baron Ochs' forces while The Black Eagles, Golden Deer and Ashen Wolves will join the assault on Nuvelle."

That was something the Princess hadn't heard before. "The Ashen Wolves?"

"They are an off-the-books fourth House of the Officers Academy. Constance is a member," answered Rhea.

"If I may ask, Lady Rhea," interrupted Manuela, "But what will the Blue Lions do in the meantime and when exactly can we expect this assault to take place?"

"The Blue Lions will help increase Monastery security during this month and head out to investigate bandit activity in Gautier territory next month," said Rhea, "As for your time of departure, it is not clear yet, but you should expect to march within the next two months. Until such time, you will also help increase the security of the Monastery."

"Understood," answered both Manuela and Byleth.

Rhea nodded. "With that being said, our meeting has come to an end. Dismissed."

20th day of the Blue Sea Moon 1180.

Thankfully, there was time for relaxation before the upcoming challenges, even though much of it was spent studying, training or patrolling. The students had to compensate for the absent Knights of Seiros, after all. Nevertheless, things were calm during this time and Byleth had finally found some time to spend getting to know his students better.

He found that while his and Ignatz' interests did not align a lot, he still appreciated the boy's creativity and talent. He had expressed as much when Ignatz had become flustered. "It's good to have an outlet for stress," Byleth had said, "Painting is yours. You're talented, too." He only hoped he had avoided the potential misunderstandings Hyperion had told him about afterwards.

The next student on his list had been Leonie. The experience had been… bracing, initially. It had been clear from the very beginning that she had a massive case of hero worship for his father. Her competitive side had also caused trouble. Her claim to being Jeralt's first and best apprentice had probably made her feel like she had to prove herself superior to him.

"Leonie, have I ever claimed to be my father's apprentice?" Byleth had asked her, stopping her mid-rant. "I am his son, his sparring partner and comrade, not his apprentice. He only taught me the basics of fighting and left me to develop on my own."

After some awkward silence, things had become more amicable. Byleth had been pleasantly surprised with how proficient she was with all manners of miscellaneous craftsmanship. They even compared notes on certain repair and patching techniques. All in all, their talk had ended well.

Talking with Lorenz had started out as a bit of a challenge since he had been forced to address the complaints of quite a few female students. The denials of harassment from the purple-haired boy had caused some frustration. That was, until the root of the problem had appeared.

"Professor, can you not see that it is an honour for any maiden to be courted by the heir of House Gloucester?" Lorenz had asked.

"They don't see the political dimension of this," had been Byleth's response.

Lorenz' perplexed expression had greeted him. "What do you mean?"

"They see a young man who keeps offering invitations for tea or dinner despite several refusals," the Professor had elaborated, "That is both rude and inconsiderate, and appears obsessive."

This had gone back and forth for a bit until the message had finally begun to stick. From there on, the topic had switched to politics and policy, and while Byleth did not understand much of either as of yet, he had left the meeting feeling impressed. Lorenz' ideas of how to rule were raw and unrefined at this point, but the thought behind them was admirable. He recognised the vital importance of the commoners to society and respected them accordingly. It was refreshing to see a noble with such a mindset.

Another complex student was Claude, though for different reasons. Claude was shrewd and had spent their conversations trying to weasel out whatever secrets he could find. It seemed like a great passion of his. The young heir of house Riegan also had a passing interest in archaeology, though he liked intellectual work far more. His politically adept side had also shown when Byleth had briefed him of their next big assignment.

"I guess there will be war soon, huh?" he had asked.

"Yes," had been Byleth's answer.

"Guess I'll need to send a few coded messages homes then."

The thing about Claude that was a bit frustrating was his tendency to give nothing away about himself. Sure, one could figure out his personality pretty quickly, but his information was hard to get. His gift for half-truths and misdirection was extraordinarily useful in that regard.

In contrast to that was Raphael. He was a simple and gentle soul, but he was fierce in a fight and liberal with his compassion. He freely talked about himself and his interests, which amounted to food, training and family. He adored his little sister in particular and was quick to bring her up. Contrary to what one might believe, however, he could keep his mouth shut about things he was not supposed to tell. It was an ability he had been demonstrating ever since their shared meal some time ago.

"Raphael, I have talked with the Archbishop about your request again," Byleth had said after putting down his fork.

Raphael had appeared excited. "Really?! What did she say?"

"She's finally agreed to it," Byleth had answered, "But no-one must know that this is a deliberate thing."

Raphael had been told the plan and had since then been keeping silent about it. In a way, it was flabbergasting to see how well Raphael could avoid talking about it, even when he was gushing about his little sister.

On the remaining girls' side of things, Hilda and Marianne often made a peculiar sight these days. They were rarely seen apart and the former often watched the latter like a hawk. Few people thought anything sinister of it. Some even speculated the two were in a relationship, and it sometimes looked like it could possibly have been true, but Byleth knew the real reason for it. He was just glad that Hilda looked out for her friend in any case.

Their personalities and interests were quite different, but they meshed well. Hilda was lazy but nonetheless very competent at anything she seriously tried. She was also pretty outgoing and excelled at sweet-talking, charm and delegation. The largest actual problem Byleth could guess at with her was a lack of confidence in herself. It was perhaps the biggest thing she had in common with Marianne. In terms of hobbies, Byleth had learned, Hilda enjoyed things generally considered girly, such as fashion, make-up and accessories. It was a fool, however, who would think to take her lightly.

Marianne was shy and withdrawn most of the time. She was gentle both in spirit and in action, but Byleth knew very well she was capable of extremely violent behaviour. Fortunately, she had only shown it in defence of those she cared about. As it was, it appeared that her low confidence had taken a rise recently. According to Hilda, she even smiled sometimes. Her one big hobby was animal care. She loved birds and horses in particular, especially her personal horse Dorte. She seemed more light-hearted in their company. Another thing about her was that she was very devout.

All of this had led to the present day. Today, Byleth planned to have a long overdue conversation with the last student of his House, Lysithea. She had been difficult to get a hold of, as ether she or he had always been busy at different times. It almost seemed to deliberate, but a cursory investigation into it had revealed that to be untrue. She simply had a schedule so crammed that it was almost impossible to find her just relaxing. It was rather worrying.

Fortunately, they both had time to talk today. They were currently situated in Byleth's quarters/office. Lysithea had just entered and sat down on a chair Byleth had appropriated from the Monastery's furniture storage. When she was seated comfortably, she asked, "You wanted to see me, Professor?"

"Yes. Thank you for coming," he answered. He took a second before he went on, "I'm sorry that I waited so long to talk to you about this, but you seemed to handle it well at the time."

"What do you mean?" asked Lysithea apprehensively.

"I'm talking about your first kill and the incident at the Monastery," explained Byleth, "It's my duty as your Professor to make sure you're alright."

An indignant expression came over Lysithea's face. "Don't treat me like a child!" she stated vehemently.

Byleth's gaze was firm as he replied, "I'm not. You're an adolescent and I will treat you as such. The point is that the stress of battle, of killing, can break anyone, regardless of age or maturity. I don't want that to happen to you."

The girl looked down in response. "I see," she said.

"How are you holding up?" asked Byleth after a few seconds of silence.

The reply was immediate, "I'm alright!" Lysithea was silent for a bit longer before she talked again in a low voice, "The nightmares don't bother me much. I don't sleep a lot anyway."

Byleth was dismayed to hear this. "Nightmares?"

Lysithea nodded but refused to elaborate.

"I told you some time ago," began the Professor "It's not wrong to seek help when you can't handle something on your own."

His student huffed, but she wore a conflicted expression. Something was wrong here. He just had to figure out what.

"You can come to me or any other Professor if you have problems," he continued, "Or even Seteth. Your friends as well."

She muttered something too low for him to hear, her gaze again directed at the ground and her hands clenching her uniform's skirt.

Byleth asked, "What was that?"

"I don't have any!" shouted Lysithea, startling him, "I don't have the time to waste on such things. There are things that need to be done before I… before I…" Her breath hitched and Byleth could see her forcibly hold back tears. "Before I die," she finished.

"That must change," declared Byleth.

"What?" asked the girl.

"You must start to live," answered the Professor, "Merely existing is not enough." He was speaking from personal experience there.

"I can't," she responded before elaborating, "I need to make sue that my parents get to live their lives out in peace. Our lands need to be taken care of and given to someone who will look after them. I can't let them down!"

Byleth took a bit of time before he spoke, "I don't think your parents would like to see you like this."

"What do you mean?" she demanded.

Her Professor asked his own question, "They love you, do they not?"

"Of course, they do!" exclaimed Lysithea.

He locked his eyes with hers and said, "Then that means they want you to be happy. Don't work yourself into an early grave."

"I…," began his student, "I need to think about this. I should go, Professor."

She quickly stood up and made for the door, but Byleth's last comment made her stop.

"Please, talk to someone about your nightmares, before it's too late."

She stayed still for a few seconds. "I will. Thank you," she said and exited the door.

Things had been going smoothly on my front, more or less. Having Sothis talk about me to her followers had brought me a certain degree of annoyance, but I decided not to dwell on the increased number of prayers I had to deal with. More than balancing this was the fact that I was making steady progress on other fronts.

Currently, I was working on my promise in the Underworld. I had already familiarised myself a bit with Hades' hall of records, and vowed to have one in my palace that would be better organised. Finding the list before me had taken far longer than I would have liked.

As for the thing itself. It was the List of the Dead, an item integral to two or three projects I was planning. It was an extensive list that contained the names, aliases and identities of every deceased sentient being in this reality. Sadly, its search function was sorely lacking. It could not tell its user where a name was listed or where its holder resided, and it despised vagueness. It would, however, glow dark red when a name or identity of a dead person was mentioned.

That way, I had managed to confirm some people's presence within the Realms of the Dead. However, there was one big conundrum.

"Why the fuck is there no Anselma von Arundel on the list?"

AN:

And that's it for this time, dear readers. As customary, I would like to thank everyone who has followed, favourited and reviewed this story.

Some of you may have noticed that I haven't really included much in terms of "support conversations" in this story. That has several reasons. The biggest of them is that I don't think I can keep track of so many different interpersonal relationships at once without losing out on plot progression. I've tried to mitigate this a bit in the latter half of the chapter, but I guess it turned out a bit shorter than many of you would have liked. Sadly, with over 40 characters in this story, doing more is quite difficult for someone as inexperienced as I.

On another topic, Kronya hasn't been forgotten. Just because it's not "on-screen" doesn't mean that nothing has happened. If things turn out like I envision them at the moment, there will be a segment featuring her next chapter.

Now, as for Fodlan and naval combat, I thought it weird that ships only ever showed up in Deirdru. With a massive war going on, there should have been a multitude of naval battles. That none of them seem to occur in the game, strikes me as rather odd. I can only conclude that the navy is considered unimportant in Fodlan. That seems nonsensical in the face of the war with Dagda, but take it as you will.

This week's recommended story is Elune's Pebble by Tendragos. It is an ongoing Harry Potter and World of Warcraft crossover, though contrary to many of its kind, it takes place in both worlds almost equally. I find it to be quite unique and I'm a big fan of it, though it takes a tiny bit of time to get used to the writing style.

In any case, I wish all of you a good day and hope that you have enjoyed this chapter. Until next time!