AN: Once more, this is a response to a guest reviewer. Note that I am not trying to be antagonistic here. I can be awkward when arguing with people.

The reason why I "speculate" about the Nabateans getting weaker in Sothis' absence is that the game literally tells you this. Indech explicitly states that he can no longer transform and that he has grown weaker over the years. It is likely the same for the others. Otherwise, we'd see Seteth taking names by blasting the opposition with his own death beams of doom, especially in Crimson Flower. As for Rhea in that route, even a weakened beam laser is still a serious problem, especially underground while in the heart of enemy territory. Also, Rhea only took those missiles after five and a half years since Sothis' awakening. And why can't I compare the Nabateans to angels? Not only have I explicitly stated this as part of this story's lore, but the comparison is almost 1:1. Children of the Goddess and Bene Elohim (= Sons of God), who are a subset of angels.

About Nemesis, consider that even if he didn't age after receiving Sothis' blood, it could well have taken a long time for the treatment to be developed. Eternally stuck at 80 doesn't sound so fun either.

As for the Apostles, I'm going to go with no. The Apostles (despite my initial assumptions to the contrary) most likely didn't receive their blood from willing Nabateans, considering that the Crests of Aubin and Chevalier have Relics and that the Crest Stones of Timotheos and Noah are in the Dark Sword of the Creator. Books in the Shadow Library imply, though, that not all of Nemesis' followers knew where their power came from. One account tells of how its writer didn't even know why Seiros hunted them with such fanatism. From that I speculate that the Apostles figured out from where Nemesis got the power he'd given them, and they didn't like it, making them desert him. And the Yuri supports never state that the old man was a Saint. He was likely an Apostle, yes, but not a Saint.

The final topic here is the consciousness of the Nabateans in the Crest Stones. In previous chapters, I stated that at least a part of their consciousness was in the stones. It's going to be a topic later on in the story.

Chapter 20: A Taste of War

28th day of the Verdant Rain Moon 1180. Imperial Fleet near the city of Nuvelle.

The ships of the Imperial Fleet made for an imposing sight in the early morning sun. The 63 ships assigned to the direct assault sailed in formation, coming ever closer to Nuvelle. Their red sails and prominent flags decorated the waters of Fodlan's Fangs as they approached their target. On their sides were fastened a multitude of rafts and on the decks of the larger ships stood the battle-ready soldiers of the task force, their armours gleaming in the golden rays of dawn.

It was a shame, then, that the image was not to last. As the sun went up and visibility increased, it became apparent that the usual pre-battle nervousness had seeped into the troops. Part of it was also jitters from the previous day. Complications had nearly put them behind schedule instead of ahead as planned.

Said complications had been twofold. First had been fleet-wide sabotage of ships. A group of people had damaged masts, misplaced supplies and caused several instances of spoiled provisions. Before the issue had become too widespread, Byleth had decided to cast Reveal over the whole fleet. Subsequently, a good thirty Agarthan infiltrators had been found. In the short scuffle, most had perished, but eleven had been captured. Hyperion had thereafter vehemently insisted on removing the Dark Shells in each of them instantly, provided they had had them. And that had been the case. Only three of the eleven had survived the process.

The second complication of the day had arisen from the first, namely repairs and resupply where possible. This had taken valuable time, but the issues had eventually been either fixed or mitigated. Full repairs would have to wait until after the battle, however.

Another thing that had quite a few soldiers nervous was Byleth's little speech to the assembled troops, given after the Agarthans had been handled and emergency repairs taken care of. "I will say this only once," he had begun, "The officers of this force command soldiers, not base animals. Furthermore, we come as liberators, not as conquerors. There will be no looting, no wanton murder and absolutely no maiming, torture or rape. Looters will lose their hands, murderers will lose their heads and torturers, rapists and the like will be flogged until the bones show and then hung without the hangman's knot. Anyone indulging in such savagery will receive the same level of brutality they have shown. Am I understood?"

The icy delivery and the hard look in his eyes had delivered a message that no sane person could ever have ignored. It remained the hope that he had been taken seriously, but only time would tell. At least no transgressor would be able to claim they hadn't been warned. A cloud of anger descended on Byleth's thoughts as he figured that there would be fools who would ignore his words. He was not looking forward to demonstrating to his students what it meant to discipline misbehaving troops under their command.

He breathed in deeply and tried to release his anger. It was hard to do so and he even felt reluctant about it. Anger came easy to him. It was clear, identifiable, focussed and, in this case, entirely justified. The slavers deserved every bit of anger he could muster, but anger clouded judgement. And so, Byleth closed his eyes, breathed deeply again and slowly let go. There would be no fiery anger to distort his thoughts, only cold, hard determination to drive his actions. He would not lose control, especially not with a good third of the seaborne troops under his command, no matter how much he longed to let loose his wrath.

With his temper now noticeably calmed, Byleth opened his eyes again to look at the city in the distance. He examined its fortifications as much as he could from his current position and determined that there were sturdy barricades in and around the harbour. A conventional naval assault would be hard to accomplish. Fortunately, neither Duke Gerth nor Baron Ochs were foolish enough to attempt one. They had prepared an opening move that would trouble their opposition far more than they were prepared for.

Speaking of preparations, Byleth turned away from the sight of the city to the one behind him. "Jana, is the Company ready?" he asked.

"Ready to go whenever you give the call, kid," she answered.

"Perfect," he said and then turned his head again. "Lars, relay the order to signal the other ships in our section. We're ready."

"Yes, sir!" came the answer.

In short order, flags were being waved across the ships that held the soldiers of Byleth's section. It included the entire contingent from Garreg Mach: The Golden Deer and Black Eagles and their assigned companies, each numbering 30 men and women, Manuela's troops, which numbered 100 soldiers, and his own mercenaries now standing at 130 thanks to the more recent recruits, as well as the Ashen Wolves and Monica, each fielding 60 soldiers. That made 1'033 in total. However, also attached to this section were another 500 Imperial soldiers divided in five groups of 100.

After about two minutes of this, Lars reported back. "All ships in the section are ready to go!" he shouted.

"Good," replied Byleth, "Signal the other sections."

"Yes, Sir!" the young man shouted again and made off.

The two remaining sections were led by Duke Gerth and General Arnold, the latter of which being a commoner who had risen in the ranks before the Insurrection. He was officially the commander of the Hresvelg household troops but had been loaned to the task force for this battle. The majority of their troops, however, came from Baron Ochs' lands. Flags began being waved on these ships now as well. It was a flurry of activity that made quite the spectacle for the ordinary soldier.

It took some more time than within Byleth's own section, but eventually, all of them were ready. In response, Duke Gerth's flagship sent up a magically generated flare as a signal to Baron Ochs' ground forces. From there on, it was time to wait since the battleplan required the troops on land to attack first.

Byleth used this period of waiting to go over said plan again. The naval side of it was a three-pronged assault on the city itself. After the initial capture of the harbour, General Arnold's section was set to make the central push through the city itself. Duke Gerth's section was to secure General Arnold's flank and then push through to the gate Baron Ochs' troops were assaulting. Byleth's section, having fewer professional soldiers than the others, was under orders to disrupt enemy communications by attacking runners and blocking the path of reinforcements. A relatively small reserve force of 400 soldiers would remain behind to guard to harbour itself, including the prisoners.

Soon, there was the sound of horns in the distance and the sight of a flare from the position of the ground forces. It appeared that things were about to get started. Byleth could spot the movement of the troops with the spyglass the ship's captain had been kind enough to lend him for a moment. After a short look, he handed it back and said, "They've hit the wall. I think the signal for the attack will come in a few minutes."

That statement proved itself true about ten minutes later as another flare was sent up from the position of Baron Ochs' camp. At once, horns and trumpets were sounded all over the fleet. Anchors were raised and sails unfurled. The ships moved in a decently close formation with mages and archers at the front for the initial engagement. Byleth's ship belonged to those since there were now quite a few casters in the Company. None of them were really all that powerful, but that was alright. The vast majority of mages and archers were there to suppress the enemy rather than to destroy their positions.

It took them but a few minutes to reach the harbour. However, the fleet stopped short of entering it. It was far too likely that the bandits had littered the shallow waters of the harbour with obstacles that would damage the bulk of their ships. It was a great trap against conventional naval assault tactics. For this specific reason, Duke Gerth had refused to order one. The rafts on the sides of the ships were lowered instead, each loaded with as many soldiers as they could carry. They would not run afoul of the obstacles in the harbour, but they would be vulnerable. The solution to that problem was fortunately at hand.

Long-range magic started to be shot at the docks to cover the advance. The defenders were made too busy blocking the incoming attacks to effectively ward off the slowly approaching rafts. As they drew closer to the docks, the archers and mages on the rafts began shooting as well, adding to the impressive volume of force directed at the enemy troops.

At the forefront was Byleth. He and his mercenaries were ahead of anyone else, though not out of arrogance but for safety reasons. It became evident why that was necessary when he took a copper ring out of his pouch and gave an order to the Company.

"Erect the sound block!" he shouted.

The sound block was a variation of the anti-eavesdropping ward. It had been invented by Hanneman for the purpose of keeping sound outside instead of inside its area of effect, mainly so he wouldn't be distracted by other sounds during his research. Right now, however, it served as a way to deal with one of the downsides of the spell Byleth had added to his arsenal just two days ago.

The young Professor summoned the magic circle and carefully aimed it at a clump of bandits which had formed a shield wall to ward off the heavy bombardment they were experiencing. He added charge to the spell, building up its power, and then released it.

"Gauss!" he incanted.

Bang!

The sound barrier broke and with it the shield wall. The copper ring had been shot with a speed of 10'000 metres per second, punching through steel, fabric and flesh with little to no resistance. A good dozen bandits had been pierced by the projectile, taking them out of the fight. More devastating than the attack itself, though, had been the sonic boom. It caused panic among the harbour's defenders, which made their organisation crumble. Some began to flee; others shouted contradictory orders and caused a mess within but a few seconds.

The attackers wasted no time exploiting this new gap in the defences. In short order, heavy losses were being inflicted. Twice more did Byleth use Gauss on the enemy before the other rafts came too close for him to safely do it again. Sadly, the psychological effect of the spell had decreased and the bandits began reorganising themselves slowly. It was a better turn of fortune, then, that the second wave of attacks was to begin in that moment.

With the aid of Warp spells, shock troops were deposited on the docks. They quickly went about attacking the flanks of the bandits, throwing their formations in disarray again. While they hammered away at the enemy, the rafts with the mages and archers began to reach the docks. Troops began pouring off of them, upon which they joined the assault on the now heavily reduced defending force.

It appeared that at least a few of the people in charge of the bandits had some sort of sense, seeing as their left flak was now retreating in a hurry. The same could not be said about the right flank, however. Its fighters were overwhelmed within a few minutes as more and more imperial troops forced their way into the harbour.

The spearhead of General Arnold's section was ready to go by the time the enemy right flank had been crushed and quickly moved out to push ahead. The elements further behind formed up as they advanced, knowing that Duke Gerth's section would reinforce them quickly in case of an ambush. What units of Byleth's section were already organised also covered the advance as they waited for the rest of the troops to come ashore.

During this short break, Byleth was approached by Duke Gerth. "Listen, your orders have changed," he said, "Our push is doing well enough since the bulk of the enemy forces seems to be retreating towards the fortified mansion that used to belong to House Nuvelle. Your section is to slowly advance towards the outer layers of the estate and hold position. Once you're there, wait for us so we can link up once we've encircled and crushed the bandits on the other side of the city. That means that speed is not as important as thoroughness. I want every building from here to there cleared. We have no idea where their stolen goods and slaves are, and I want them found. If you do find them, send a runner to the reserves. They will handle retrieval."

"Understood, my Lord," replied Byleth with a firm nod.

A few minutes later, Byleth updated the officers in his section and reorganised his troops: "Manuela, you and the Black Eagles advance alongside General Arnold's push. After that, hug the wall and prepare to bail if you are attacked while advancing. I will take the Golden Deer and the Ashen Wolves to secure your exposed flank and advance through the middle of the city towards the mansion. Lady Monica, take the imperial troops as you comb through the remaining areas. If any of you are held up or you suffer a counterattack, I expect a runner to be sent so the advance can be adjusted."

Strictly speaking, it was not necessary for them to do so since Byleth could observe the battlefield with the helmet's sensors, but he wouldn't be present at every battlefield in the future. It was good for everyone to develop useful habits such as reliable information flow. His unique view of the battlefield had played a role in his orders, though. He could see that Manuela would face the least resistance and had therefore been assigned the least number of troops.

Once Manuela's subsection was ready, they departed immediately, quickly followed by Byleth's subsection. Monica stayed behind to organise her part of the forces and only then moved to fulfil her part of the objective. It was not really a problem for her to do so as it would be good for cohesion to give the other troops more time to get into position. But eventually, the advance began.

Only now that there was a lull in the fighting did the students notice the atmosphere in the city. One could almost taste the fear in the air. It wasn't the bandits that made it that way. It was the people living here. The way they looked through windows, cracks in the walls or minutely opened doors unsettled the students. The looks they received ranged from terror to hope and everything in between. The screaming in the background as General Arnold's forces attacked a bandit hold-out didn't help matters either.

"This doesn't feel right," commented Caspar as he walked up to Hubert, "We're here to help them! Why are they afraid of us?"

The tall youth scoffed when he heard that. "Did you not pay attention to Professor Byleth's speech yesterday?"

Caspar replied, "Huh? What does that have to do with anything?"

A long-suffering sigh preceded the actual answer. "He told the soldiers that hurting the people of this city was not to be tolerated because it is normal for invading armies to brutalise the populace of a place they take over. We're here with an army and are currently attacking the place. Put two and two together."

"But they're our own people!" exclaimed the shorter of the two.

"It doesn't matter," was the cold reply from Hubert. "We have mercenaries with us, and even our own soldiers sometimes don't adhere to their oaths if it means they can have a little fun. The people have a right to be afraid, especially once we start entering their homes."

"But-"

"Enough chit-chat!" interrupted Hubert. "Get back to your unit. We can't afford to have our officers walking away from their troops."

Caspar was clearly unsatisfied with what his classmate had said, but he did go back to his unit. The whole situation just didn't sit right with him, however. He took a glance at the fighters under his command and really hoped that none of them would do what the inhabitants of the city feared they would.

There was little time for more retrospection as Manuela called out, "We'll reach the wall soon. Ferdinand, Bernadetta, you two take position here. Start searching the buildings once you see Dorothea and Caspar's units move."

In this manner, the Black Eagles were distributed along their part of the front. Soon enough, they began advancing methodically through the buildings. Their time drilling these things had not been wasted, as was seen in their efficiency. While they did meet resistance, it was mostly scared civilians desperately defending their families, whom they believed to be under attack. Fortunately, the soldiers followed the standing orders to merely incapacitate such people when possible. The few bandits and slavers that were hiding among them were taken care of in quite the lethal manner, however. This slow and methodical approach kept the casualties unexpectedly low.

Things were going similarly along Byleth's part of the front, though there were more enemy combatants to get through. An unexpected benefit was Constance's presence. Apparently, she had been well-known by the people living in the city, and that made them more willing to co-operate with her. As such, she had little trouble searching through the houses for remaining enemies.

In fact, both Manuela and Byleth were advancing so fast the he had to order a stop as Monica's subsection was lagging behind. It was through no fault of her own, however. The issue had been expected.

The problem with her assigned area was that it was the side of the city closest to the harbour. That meant that there were a lot of warehouses and hidden cellars to search through, all of which held merchandise, stolen goods and, in some cases, slaves. The reserves would handle the retrieval of those, but searching through everything and giving first aid where necessary were both things that took a lot of time.

Even in Monica's area resistance began to die down eventually, however. In the end, Byleth's full section made it to the old Nuvelle estate within about one and a half hours. Once there, Byleth gave new orders.

"Make camp, everyone. I want this position fortified as soon as possible. I know you're probably tired, but this is why we need to do it. We could be counterattacked at any moment," he explained.

"But Commander," one of the solders said, "We don't have the materials to make proper fortifications."

"Ask the citizens for help. Any cart or spare table is something we can use," answered Byleth. After a second, he elaborated, "Ask, not demand or extort."

Not much later, improvised barricades were erected along the perimeter of the Nuvelle estate. True to the section leader's predictions, they were needed. As soon as the bandits noticed them setting up camp, they began to launch probing attacks to figure out the weak point of the task force's troops. Perhaps it was because they viewed Manuela as the weak link or because they thought Edelgard would make a good hostage, but the bandits' main counterattack soon hit the Black Eagles.

Byleth had seen this coming thanks to the helmet's sensors and had prepared a suitable counter. "Yuri, take Ignatz and his troops under your command. I will take Claude and Hilda and make an opening for you to encircle the enemy attack. I've already sent a runner to Manuela to give orders for a fighting retreat so it should be even more effective," he said to the young man in question. Then, he turned to the other. "Lysithea, take a handful of our strongest mages and clear a spot for us on the other side of the barricade. Balthus, Raphael, I want you to cover us and smash all attacks against our position. Claude, Hilda, with me!"

At his orders, the mages began their concentrated bombardment, creating an opportunity for Byleth, Claude and Hilda to take their units over the barricades. The three of them slammed into the bandits with a ferocity the enemy clearly did not expect.

Byleth drew the enemy's attention by being a storm of death at the head of the Company. The team system in which it was organised became the meat grinder it was designed to be. More than one unwary bandit tried to slip into the gaps between individual teams with the intention of attacking the seemingly exposed flanks, only to be caught in a kill zone between several teams. Byleth himself often acted as bait, seemingly exposing himself. He took a fair amount of hits doing this, but liberal application of modified Nosferatu spells mitigated this problem.

"This is highly dangerous, you fool!" he heard Sothis shout from within his head.

"I know, but it's the most effective method right now," he responded. Hyperion stayed silent, likely too busy guarding him from the numerous attacks upon his body to comment.

That statement was put to the test soon after. A sword slipped both of their guards and slashed open Byleth's throat, causing a spray of blood. The victorious smirk on the face of the bandit who had done this did not last, however. A Nosferatu spell empowered by the Tower Arcanum of the Crest of Charon made him shrivel up into a mummy while the stolen life force healed the cut on Byleth's throat and restored most of the blood he had lost.

"He's fucking immortal!" screamed one of the bandits. He tuned tail and rain, causing some of his comrades to do the same. They became easy prey for Claude and the other archers, who shot them dead in short order.

As the gap between the barricades and the back of the advance units widened, Yuri and Ignatz took their troops over the barricades and moved into attack position. When the opportunity arose, they pushed. The opening salvo came from Ignatz and those among his soldiers who were archers or mages. They struck an opening for Yuri to slip into. It was there that the latter revealed his trump card.

An eerie red glow emanated from the back of Yuri's hand as the Fetters of Dromi went active. The purple-eyed youth became a blur as he moved with impossible speed, stabbing and slicing at whatever exposed body parts his enemies showed. There was rarely even a need to parry as the Crest of Aubin often immobilised his enemies. He paid attention not to get ahead of his men and women, though. It sped up his advance by a huge margin nevertheless as the enemy resistance was picked apart in record time. Before long, the group of bandits that had made it over to Manuela's side of the barricade were completely cut off while entirely unaware of the fact thanks to said barricade.

"Ignatz, take your troops over the barricade. I'll hold out here until you're done!" shouted Yuri.

The blond boy consented. "Will do!"

That said, Ignatz swiftly mounted the barricade with his company. While their numbers were low, the pincer move did have the desired effect. The bandits on the other side started panicking. The resultant disorganised mess was then quickly mopped up since the Black Eagles saw the Golden Deer's arrival as the signal to counterattack. A good 300 bandits fell in the encirclement, a disproportionally large amount of which thanks to Edelgard's axe and Ferdinand's lance.

Once everything was mopped up, Manuela had a runner tell Yuri to retreat back behind the barricade. Another one was dispatched to Byleth with the same message. Within a few minutes, everyone from the task force was back on their own side and fending off an attack that was losing its momentum fast.

The only source of more stress that came after that was a small breach near the field hospital, where bandits had broken through the barricade. Unfortunately for said bandits, however, they had been greeted by a livid Marianne and her unit. She drove them off with sword and spell as none of them had expected her to simply storm at them and start hacking limbs off regardless of armour.

When Byleth finally arrived to close the gap and beheld the carnage she had left in her wake, he felt pride for his student's ability and some concern about how this would affect her in the future. That she had gone back to healing the wounded without issue was a good sign though.

The last assault Byleth's section had to endure that day came a few minutes later in the centre, where Raphael and Balthus were holding position. The two were tough and their units reflected this, but there was a lot of pressure coming down on them. It only abated when Balthus used the Vajra-Mushti to shoot blasts of energy at the incoming bandits. The first hit took out a good dozen fighters and the follow-ups rapidly added to that number. At that point, the bandits chose to retreat.

No further attacks came. It would have been folly to do so as the blast of a horn announced the arrival of not only the other two sections of the naval force but also that of Baron Ochs' assault troops. The battle for the city had been won. All that remained now was the battle for the Nuvelle estate.

Two hours later, late afternoon. Improvised camp at the edge of the old Nuvelle estate.

The atmosphere was not quite tense, but there was little in terms of levity going on. Currently, the high-ranking officers of the task force were engaged in a strategy meeting in a hastily erected tent. While everyone respected each other enough not to shout, there were strong opinions about.

"I still don't know why we're twiddling our thumbs here. We should've started pressing the attack the moment we got to this camp," one of them said.

"Ridiculous. Think for a moment," retorted another.

The first one rose from his stool. "Are you insulting my intelligence?" he asked angrily.

"Enough!" shouted General Arnold. "Restrain yourselves. You're officers of His Majesty's armed forces, not bickering children arguing over a toy. Behave as adults or I will treat you as children and have you removed from the premises."

The reprimand stuck and the two officers ducked their heads. It was hard to withstand the force of the general's aura of command. The man had earned his position by excelling in all areas of leadership, including charisma.

"Thank you, General," Duke Gerth piped in. "To answer your implied question, Major Garibald, we ceased the push because it would have ended in disaster. Baron Ochs' troops were exhausted. Ours were tired and Professor Byleth's troops were on their last legs when we arrived. The remaining troops of the other side were fresh. Attacking would have been folly."

Byleth nodded his head. "I concur. They likely intended on cycle-charging us again and again with fresh troops. It could have caused a rout."

"Indeed," commented Baron Ochs, "It's standard-fare for armed forces to overwhelm numerically inferior forces like that. They had to abandon that plan once the rest of our troops arrived, however. Our current number would have rendered their tactic useless as the numbers advantage switched to our side."

There were grumbles of acknowledgement among the officers. However, one of them focussed on a part of the Baron's statement. "Wait a moment," said Monica, "Standard fare for armed forces? Are you saying that there are professional soldiers among the enemy ranks?"

The Baron nodded. "Yes. They are troops sent by the minor nobles who have turned to organised crime in the wake of the Dagdan war. It is likely that there are also forces sponsored by Lord Arundel present."

There were sharp intakes of breath. "Are you accusing the Regent of treason?" asked one of the officers.

"No, I'm reciting my finest pieces of poetry," snarked the Baron. "He only usurped his rightful monarch, he dragged the names of His Majesty's supporters through the mud, has put the blame on several bloody massacres in Dagda on me, attainted House Nuvelle without due process, conspired with Duke Aegir to kill all but one of His Majesty's children, orchestrated the deaths or disappearances of the Empress-Consort and all concubines, has deliberately mismanaged all territories assigned to him but those directly owned by him and has been rather lax on his tax payments, all the while having sole custody over the Princess. Whyever would I accuse him of treason, hmm?" The piercing stare that accompanied this tirade made the officer shut up.

Baron Ochs composed himself and then spoke again, "My personal opinion of Lord Arundel aside, we can expect heavy and organised resistance from within the estate. We suspect that most of their ill-gotten riches and their high-profile merchandise reside within the manor at the centre of the estate. Considering that we cannot risk the citizens held captive in there starving due to a protracted siege, we must come up with a plan to assault the estate, preferably today."

Dark looks spread among those in attendance. Many of them had seen the sorry state of the people that had been rescued from various warehouses and cellars, and the deplorable conditions they had had to endure. Slave labour was the least of it. What had been done to some of them for the sake of the sick entertainment of the scum infesting this city was beyond description.

"Yes. It must be done today," concurred Duke Gerth.

"Use their own tactics against them," said Byleth after a few seconds of silence.

Baron Ochs looked at him. "Elaborate," ordered the man.

The young Professor complied. "Cycle-charge them. Maintain pressure. Be relentless."

An eyebrow was raised. "That will not work as well as you might think, Professor. The estate and the manor are fortified. Breaking through, even with cycle-charges would take a lot of time."

"I know," replied Byleth, "But it will make a credible distraction."

The Baron waved his hand. "Go on," he said.

"An infiltration unit will sneak into the manor and liberate the captives and all valuables with Warp spells. Afterwards, the unit will retreat and burn down the manor. The fire will hopefully cause sufficient chaos for the enemy to surrender," explained the former mercenary.

General Arnold interjected, "But that would require about half of our Warp casters to join the infiltration unit. The disaster if they were caught would be catastrophic."

Byleth shook his head. "We have a few people who can cast Rescue in emergencies. At least the Warp casters can be safely retrieved in case of mission failure."

"I don't like it," said Baron Ochs, "But it is the best plan we have at the moment. Very well, put together this infiltration unit, Professor. I take it that you wish to lead it, correct?"

The Professor nodded. "Yes," he answered.

"See to it that you succeed," ordered the Baron.

Byleth stood up and bowed. "Understood, my Lord," he said before he turned towards the exit and left the tent.

When he had left, the focus of the officers' attention went back to the commander of the task force. "It seems we now have to hash out the details of our attack. Lord Gerth, the troops directly under your command were the freshest from what I could surmise. When will they be ready to attack?"

The Duke considered for a moment. "Within the hour, I presume."

"Very well," said Baron Ochs, "Your forces will attack in an hour. General Arnold, you will relieve them ten minutes later. A further ten minutes later, half of my forces will follow up. After that, it will be the second half of my forces. Following after them will be Professor Byleth's forces, now under the command of Professor Manuela. After that, it will be Lord Gerth's forces again."

One hour later.

Claude couldn't help but feel nervous and yet, he was excited. The thrill of danger, the game of chance that came with it, they were a kind of guilty pleasure for him. Not that the altruistic or the pragmatic reasons to participate didn't move him, but the feeling wouldn't abate. He wouldn't let it impact his performance though. He loved the gamble, but losing was not what he intended to do.

There was a certain level of pride in being selected for this part of the mission. It was an acknowledgement of his skills in sneakiness. Still, the same could be said about the entirety of the colourful bunch Teach had gathered. One of them was that weird guy from Abyss, Yuri. Something about him made the hair at the back of his neck stand up. He sadly didn't recognise many of the others, though Lysithea came as a shock.

"I didn't take a little girl like you for a stealth specialist," he teased.

The withering glare he got as a response made it worth it in itself. "It may have escaped your limited understanding, but I'm good at magic. I know the Warp spell and even though I've only learned it very recently, I can cast it just as well as the others here, so stop treating me like a child!" she said heatedly.

Ah, that was the information he'd been after. He couldn't leave without a parting shot though. "Of course. You are the most mature little girl I know!"

He ducked under the swipe she made at his head and instead enjoyed her growl of irritation as he laughed. He elected not to dodge the elbow to his side, though. Lysithea deserved her small victories too.

The mood was broken once horns and trumpets announced the first attack wave. Duke Gerth's soldiers climbed over the barricade and charged over the estate grounds. Enemy troops stationed there met the charge head on and fierce combat ensued. It was clear that the opposition was far better organised and equipped than the rabble the task force had fought earlier. Their numbers were a concern too. According to Teach, there were roughly 4'000 soldiers holed up in this place. He had no clue where they were all hiding, but as more and more poured out of the manor to reinforce their defence, it appeared ever more likely that Teach had been right. The result of this was that the enemy line hadn't budged the tiniest bit after the initial clash.

Soon enough, the signal for the second charge came. General Arnold's forces moved to enter combat and their little stealth element followed in his wake. Just as the plan demanded, Duke Gerth's soldiers were relieved, causing a shift in the line back towards the barricade. However, the defenders were soon being pushed back due to their mounting exhaustion. It was just as expected, then, when the enemy cycled out their frontline fighters too, which caused another shift in the line.

This was the single window of opportunity the infiltration unit had. They had stolen some insignia and uniforms off the dead enemy soldiers and hastily thrown them on. It wasn't too convincing a disguise, but it was good enough to allow them to be swept up in the retreat. There was great risk involved with this too, since the soldiers of the task force might hit them as they wore their stolen clothing. Teach had had the foresight to at least cast Ward spells on them, though, so they had some protection.

The infiltration unit followed their unknowing adversaries for the next few minutes until they reached the manor's outlying buildings. Teach had them split off from the retreating troops and move into an alleyway between two buildings.

"Commander, shouldn't we have followed them inside?" one of the members of the unit asked.

"No," replied Teach, "The sentries are likely more vigilant than a bunch of exhausted soldiers. Our disguises would have been discovered."

"Then how will we get inside?" the soldier asked.

"Follow me," was the Teach's answer.

They sneakily made their way to a building, likely some sort of guard house, that was adjacent to the wall. If there was one entry point where they could sneak in, it was likely this. It was probably guarded, though. Claude was curious how they'd get inside. Whatever they were about to do, it would have to be fast and silent.

Claude saw his Professor reach into a satchel he had taken with him on the mission. The object that came out of it was a bottle of what appeared to be very strong liquor. "What's that?" the Golden Deer asked.

"Di-methyl ether," answered Teach, much to Claude's confusion. He'd never heard of a substance like that. "It's highly flammable, but it's also a narcotic."

Little did Claude know that it was the first successful attempt of Byleth's at traditional alchemy. The current bottle had only been brought along due to a quick brainstorming session with Hyperion and Sothis. He'd sought out the highest percentage liquor in the city and had transmuted the ethanol into di-methyl ether.

None of this mattered in the moment, however. The Professor uncapped the bottle and proceeded to pour its contents into the guard room. Minor application of wind and fire magic from several team members quickly saw the vapours spread throughout the guard house. After some time, the tell-tale sounds of bodies dropping could be heard. After a minute of nothing, Byleth entered alone, as only he had protection against harmful gases in the form of his helmet. He proceeded to slit the throats of all enemy soldiers he could find and only then exited again, before he ordered wind magic to be used to blow the gas out of the building. Only then did they proceed further as a whole.

As expected, there was a passage through the wall within the building, and they used it to enter the manor's courtyard after Teach had used whatever tricks he had to scout ahead. The hub of activity that was said courtyard made it easier for them to sneak around behind carts and stalls, and soon they were at one of the servants' entrances to the central manor building. Entering it was no challenge from there on.

Claude listened intently for any signs of activity as they snuck through the hallways. As they came upon a side corridor near the ballroom, Teach made halt. He seemed to survey their surroundings before he spoke in a hushed tone, "According Constance's description, we will soon come across a passage to the wine cellar. It's the only place in the building that could be repurposed into a dungeon. The treasury is also adjacent. The passage will be tight. Kill any hostile you come across as quickly as you can. We can't afford to get caught."

Nods answered Teach as they followed him past the ballroom, they turned a corner, only to find a handful of guards there. Startled, they drew their weapons and shouted, recognising the disguises for what they were. Claude cursed as he quickly delivered a stab to the throat of one of the guards. They'd been dispatched quickly, but the noises had been too loud to not be noticed.

"Shit," muttered Teach. "New plan," he said, "We hurry down and get everyone down there out. Then, you'll Warp out and contact the Rescue casters to help you. I will stay behind and handle the second objective on my own."

Claude was startled. "Teach, you can't mean-"

"No time for objections! Hurry," ordered the man.

With uneasy heart, Claude followed the others down the stairs. They descended on all those in their way with great ferocity, dispatching them with overwhelming force so as to save time. It was no surprise that they reached the bottom quickly, then.

The scene they came upon was, in a word, revolting. Emaciated men, women and children lined the walls and the floor, each of them shackled or in chains or in cages far too small for them. Their tired eyes watched the infiltration unit with fear as they entered the cellar and Claude had to fight down the urge to puke. This was worse than the warehouses. The cherry on top of this grotesque sight was the small group of criminals scrambling up from the naked figures of crying and screaming captives to reach for their weapons.

By all the gods, they're so… small, he thought, horrified, as he took a closer look at some of the victims. They couldn't have been any older than Lysithea. A spike of intense anger shot through him as he looked at his classmate's shaking form and imagined her in the same position. Never, he vowed with fury in his heart.

"No mercy," declared Teach coldly. Claude agreed. Creatures – he refused to call them people – such as the ones committing these atrocities had no place in his vision of a peaceful world. Much could be tolerated in the name of peace and understanding, but not this. Never this.

He was apparently not alone in his intent. Yuri struck with all the speed the Fetters of Dromi granted him, leaving barely anything of the criminals for him to pick off. Teach, too, took down whatever enemy was in reach with ruthless efficiency. In but a few moments, the cellar had become the site of a small bloodbath.

"Take them to the camp. Give them food, water and medical attention, and clothe them," ordered Teach.

"Commander, I volunteer to stay behind with you and teach these animals the meaning of pain," announced one of the soldiers.

"Denied," replied Teach. "My escape plan might not work with an additional person. Now leave! I can hear them coming."

Claude watched as Teach hurried over to the stairs. He was torn on what to do, but ultimately decided to follow his orders. If Teach said he could escape, he would. The Golden Deer now instead focussed on speeding up the evacuation, which thankfully was a quick affair. A single caster could transport up to 200 people with a Warp spell. While none of the people with them were proficient enough for that feat, they all could comfortably transport 80 per cast. It made it all the more disheartening that almost ten instances of the spell had to be used during the short period of time they spent in the cellar.

"That was the last one. We need to go now, my Lord," one of the casters said.

"Hurry up, Claude!" shouted Lysithea in support of the statement.

Reluctantly, he nodded and let himself be engulfed by the Warp spell. The caster which had sent him was retrieved seconds later by a Rescue spell, leaving the hall or horror that was the former wine cellar of Nuvelle manor empty. The only thing filling it now were the remnants of the restraints, a few corpses and the distant screams of bandits and other criminals.

While the cellar was now empty, the same could not be said for the staircase leading to it. Dozens of soldiers filled it as they hurried down. As such, they fell right into Byleth's trap. With no allies around and with the enemy lined up in a neat row, he used the Gauss spell to great effect. A series of great bangs disturbed the manor as the sound barrier was broken by the copper rings he had launched. His opponents fell like wheat during the harvest, either dead or quickly dying. Unhindered by the sight, he waded through the corpses with surprising speed. Once he was at the top, he turned around and sent a strong Fire spell at the dead soldiers, incinerating them.

Ever since the events at the Western Church Headquarters, fire magic had come to him easily. Fire seemed almost eager to come forth and obey his will. He had been confused until a conversation with his headmates had revealed the simple reason for this: His body and soul had been bathed in the divine energy of two Gods with a fire affinity. Consequently, his fire type spells had become more powerful and less costly to use. It made his current objective, namely setting Nuvelle manor on fire, all the more suited towards him.

The small fire in the staircase soon became a roaring torrent of flame that spread throughout the manor. Predictably, its occupants sought to put the fire out. The first group of them found Byleth after only a few minutes and engaged him in combat.

As he met their attacks, it became clear to him that these soldiers were indeed trained. He was hard pressed to deflect their blows, especially since one of them had a crossbow constantly aiming for him. If it hadn't been for Hyperion's help and his own extraordinary skill with his sword and fists, he would right now lie dead on the floor. As it was, his sword was now nearly useless from the strain of battle. He had deflected one too many attacks with it.

"There are more incoming. We need to finish this fast," said Hyperion.

Byleth took this as incentive for a risky move. "Give me a strong AT field around my body," he said to the man in his head and he lunged forward into one of his six opponents, bringing them both down to the floor and leaving his chipped sword behind. Hexagonal patterns protected him from the retaliatory blows of his enemies as his forward momentum brought him closer to the crossbow-wielding opponent. He then sprang to his feet and covered his fist with his own AT field before delivering a punch to the soldier's head. The man's neck broke under the strain and his body would have dropped if Byleth hadn't caught it.

Thinking on his feet, the Professor swung the corpse around and used it as a shield against the other soldiers while smacking them with it. The muscles in his arms screamed in protest as he did this, but it was worth it. It gave him just enough time to form a Fire spell and launch it at the remaining opposition. Their screams were loud but short-lived as they succumbed to the flames.

Barely a few seconds later, another squad of soldiers rounded the corner and moved to attack him. A Gauss spell killed two of them and deafened the others, which led to Byleth casting another Fire spell at them. No others seemed to be approaching for now.

As he ran through the manor and set more and more things on fire, he encountered two more squads and dispatched them with haste, though he was tiring quickly. Fortunately, though, the fire had become a roaring inferno and the manor's occupants were now fleeing instead of trying to attack him. There was one problem, however.

"Shit," came the voice of Hyperion. "Byleth, look on your HUD. There's a humanoid heat signature in the master bedroom that isn't moving. It might be another captive."

It didn't need to be said that this person would die to the flames if left alone. So, Byleth hurried through the burning hallways and staircases with curses on his lips and an uncharacteristic amount of emotion on his helmet-clad face. It didn't take him very long to reach the Lord's quarters, but that was the easy part of the whole thing. Behind him, parts of the floor were already collapsing and the heat of the flames was spreading fast.

He hurried through the open door of the quarters and entered the master bedroom. His target was on the bed, bound to the bedposts by shackles on her wrists and ankles. It was a naked woman with brown hair and pale skin, and it was clear that she would have made for a beautiful sight if it weren't for her current state. Her skin was littered with bruises and knife marks, some of which were reminiscent of letters, but Byleth had no care to read them. Her eyes followed him with a tired gaze of resignation and as he looked at her face, he was startled. She looked vaguely familiar to him.

Further investigation was interrupted by the sound of a crash and the crackle of flames. Byleth hurried over to her and looked for a way to take the shackles off. They didn't budge, however. There was no release mechanism, only a lock, and he had no time to search for the keys. In his desperation, he coated his arm and fist in his AT field again and repeatedly smacked the point where one of the shackles was bound to the bedpost until it broke. He repeated the action for the other shackles as well.

"Can you move?" he asked.

He received no reply apart from a shaking head, and only now did he notice that there were bruises and rope marks around her throat. Byleth had to swallow down the bile that had come up as he realised why she didn't speak. It was possible that she couldn't, with how recent some of the marks were.

"I'll get you out of here," he declared. She eyed him with curiosity, but Byleth didn't waste any time with looking at her further. Instead, he moved her body around as gently as his hurry allowed and then sat down on the bed. He manoeuvred her in such a way that her front was to his back, laid her arms over his shoulders and moved her legs into his lap. "Hold on tight," he said.

As soon as Byleth felt her arms tighten around him, he stood up while hooking his arms under her legs and ran out of the bedroom. Sadly, the flames had already spread through the hallway and were nearly upon the Lord's quarters. He could not take the same way down as he had come up. He had to find a new way down, and fast.

He could feel his exhaustion mounting as he ran. The fighting within the city and within the mansion had taken their toll on his body. He was now also being weighted down and unbalanced by the woman he was carrying and the shackles that were still attached to her. His escape would be all but guaranteed if he just dropped her, but he refused to even entertain the thought.

It seemed that luck was with him, however, as he discovered the pulley system used for large feasts in the upper dining hall of the mansion. After confirming with the helmet's sensors that the kitchen was still relatively safe, he put the woman onto the pulley tray after forcefully widening the opening and quickly lowered her down to the kitchen. Byleth himself then entered the shaft and slid down the pulley rope, taking care not to step on the woman. He then used his AT field around his fist to break the shaft's wall open on the kitchen's side as well and picked her up again.

He hurriedly ran to the nearest large window, all the while dodging falling pieces of the ceiling and the spreading flames. On his way there, he grabbed a heavy roasting pan, which he then threw at the window to break it. With all the strength his tired legs could still muster, he jumped. His foot hit the lower end of the window frame and the two fell, but he had accomplished what he had set out to do. Byleth and the woman landed outside the manor in an undignified heap, where they both remained still for a few seconds.

Byleth picked himself up again as quickly as you could and then did the same for the woman. He was aching all over, but he couldn't stop now. They weren't out of the water just yet. They made their way across the courtyard, which was deserted by now, seeing as the other buildings, including the wall, were catching fire as well. They left through the unbarred main gate, though Byleth and Hyperion still made sure they weren't seen.

For nearly half an hour, the tired Professor carried the woman sneakily along the edge of the slowly abating battle, which the criminals appeared to be losing quite handily thanks to their panicked comrades fleeing from the burning mansion. Soon, the barricade came within sight, though, and Byleth felt relief coursing through him as he saw the sentries recognise him.

"We're almost there. You're safe now," he told the woman.

A rasp escaped her. "Th-thank… you, stra-… nger" she managed to say weakly.

He replied, "You're welcome. You can call me Byleth."

"I'm…," she started, only to fall into a coughing fit at the attempt to speak more. Eventually though, she resumed, "I'm… An-… selm-… a."

Byleth froze. Now he knew why her face looked so familiar to him. As he tried to comprehend the situation, he heard Hyperion sum up the situation.

"Oh, fuck me sideways. Shit!"

AN:

Well, welcome back, dear readers, to another chapter of Headmates. A big thank you to everyone who has followed, favourited and reviewed since last time.

I hope you enjoyed this chapter, even though it dipped into darker territory towards the end. I wanted to avoid being a total edgelord about the situation, though, and tried to not be too graphic for this reason, but "show, don't tell" reared its ugly head, forcing me to do a balancing act. Hopefully, I've succeeded.

There are those who think that things are running a bit too smoothly for the good guys, and I can see where they're coming from. I'm of the opinion that if you insert a character into a story, SI or not, and they are not of the malicious variety, that things should end up better than in canon. That is not to say that actions don't have consequences. The bad guys aren't stupid and have their own plans going. Plus, even if the heroes win every fight they're in, they can't be in every fight there is. Hannibal Barca is a big reminder that winning streaks alone don't guarantee victory in the end.

All that aside, I hope my cliffhanger at the end went over well with you guys and girls. I don't know if I foreshadowed it too blatantly or not sufficiently at all.

I'm also well aware that the Blue Lions deserve more screen time. I originally wanted to include a segment with them in this chapter as well, but length has become a bit of a concern. They'll get their time to shine next chapter.

Now then, today's recommended story is Darth Vader: Hero of Naboo by AkumaKami64. While updates are slow, they do happen. The story is far from abandoned. As for its content, it manages to portray a "reformed" Darth Vader in such a manner so as not to make him do a complete 180° turn in character. He stays true to his character on his mission to clean house in both the Jedi and Sith orders while trying to end the eternal war between the two.

Alright then, folks. Stay happy and healthy, everyone. Until next time!