Chapter 26: Fronts and Confrontations

3rd day of the Red Wolf Moon 1180. Southern border of Ochs territory, near a Hevring supply camp.

The situation seemed dire for His Majesty's forces. Count Hevring had sent an overwhelming force into Ochs territory only two weeks ago, and those troops had already penetrated deep into the Barony. At least, that was what it looked like. Monica knew better.

Naturally, the Ochs troops were still outnumbered. Count Hevring had sent every soldier to his name as well as over 40'000 (wo)men from the Imperial Army formally under Count Bergliez' command, though they were in actuality subordinate to Count Hevring for the moment. Lord Arundel was also attacking from the East. On paper, it looked like a total disaster for Baron Ochs.

This image was reinforced by the fact that almost three quarters of the Barony's forces were busy with fighting the Arundel offensive that was bolstered by a further 20'000 soldiers of the Imperial Army. The pitiful remainder of their troops, just about 5'000 soldiers were outnumbered 10:1 at the very least. The Hevring force had not even encountered much resistance. Cities, towns and villages had been entirely deserted on their path, and their spirits were high as ever. It had driven the cocksure Count to give orders to advance faster, intending on finishing up quickly and marching further up towards Nuvelle territory, where Duke Gerth was scrambling to put together an armed force capable of making a difference. It seemed like the only thing working for the loyalists was the fact that Count Hevring would be unable to receive more reinforcements due to the mountain range blocking the path for him and his allies.

Too bad for him that he's exposed fatal weaknesses to us, thought Monica. "Are the troops ready?" she asked the soldier who had run up to her.

"Yes, my Lady. We await your command," he replied.

A predatory grin spread on the redhead's face. "Excellent. Give the signal to attack in five minutes. Remember your standing orders: Hit fast and hard. Destroy any and all supplies you can find. We take no plunder."

"Understood," said the soldier and bowed. He ran off again, and Monica took this as her signal to mount her horse and call her unit to her side as silently as the situation allowed. A surprise attack was hardly a surprise if one's enemies heard the attackers coming. There was no way she would waste the effort the Imperial Fleet had made to stealthily get all raiding groups in position.

It was all part of her father's overarching strategy for the beginning stages of the war. She didn't know everything (a precaution in case she ever got captured and interrogated), but she knew that he had given her orders, and she was going to fulfil them. For years, she had dreamed of defending her people from their enemies. She was not going to fail now.

Before long, the five minutes were up. She raised the lance whose butt had rested in her stirrup and gave a shout. "Attack! For His Majesty and the Empire!"

Horns sounded through the land as the 700 cavalry soldiers under her command charged over the hilltop that had hidden them from Count Hevring's supply camp. Its defenders were woefully underprepared, most likely because they were so far behind the front lines that they had thought themselves immune to attack. They were about to be disabused of the notion.

Monica's troops hit the camp at full gallop, riding down anyone and anything in their path. Fortunately, only soldiers were foolish enough to do so. The civilian camp followers were spared that fate. Despite the brutality of the attack, deaths were therefore limited to only about 250 soldiers. The 300 or so captured civilians were instead brought before Monica when all was over.

"What are you waiting for? Tie them up, blindfold them and get them ready to move" were her words when one of her lieutenants presented the captives.

The man blinked at her. "My Lady, did you not say we wouldn't take any plunder?"

The glare she shot him was heated enough to melt rock. "Have you just called people plunder? Be very careful with what you say next."

He gulped. "My deepest apologies, my Lady. It's just… we can't afford to take anyone with us. We need to get rid of them. The delay, the security risk-"

The glare Monica was giving him didn't change in the slightest. "We have been ordered to keep our operations secret for as long as possible, soldier. That means we have two choices when it comes to witnesses: capture or kill. We will not kill the Empire's citizens willy-nilly, whether they have the misfortune of living in the lands of traitors or not. So, capture it is. Are we clear?"

It was a tad bit unfair of her to say this. Contrary to her, he did not know about the gathering spot where captured civilians were to be handed off to the fleet for transport. As such, his concerns were valid, but he should never have suggested killing them all. He hadn't said it, of course, but he had implied it clearly enough.

"Crystal clear, my Lady," said the lieutenant nervously.

She narrowed her eyes. "Good. Now follow your orders," she said.

The lieutenant bowed and walked off. Monica watched him and made a mental note to have him investigated and observed. Such callousness with human life was not a good trait for someone in his position to have.

Barely twenty minutes later, all captives were bound as per her orders, and the young heiress of House Ochs was ready to proceed. She had her soldiers secure them behind the riders that were to carry them before the small force went on the move again.

They were now headed south, where they would encounter a hidden encampment built by Ochs forces. From there, they would reconvene with two more raiding parties and travel further south and a bit more east. At that point, they would split up again for more raiding targets along the road that Count Hevring's troops relied on for supplies. After that, even Monica had no idea where they would be sent next. Orders would arrive over the fleet once the time was right. What orders she already had were more than enough until then.

At roughly the same time. Garreg Mach, War Room.

"Looks like Baron Ochs is going full Hannibal on Count Hevring. Unless Thales breaks through from the other side, Count Hevring is going to get fucked so hard that he'll revert right back to being a virgin."

Everyone present, that being the leaders of the Church army, looked incredulously at the holographic image of Hyperion produced by the helmet on Byleth's head. The first to recover from his stupor was the good Professor himself, being somewhat used to Hyperion's colourful language and weird idioms.

"What?" he asked.

Hyperion looked at him and said, "Hannibal Barca crushed the Roman army at the battle of Cannae over 12'000 years ago. His 40'000 men annihilated an army of over 80'000." He then pointed at the holographic map of Fodlan hovering in the air next to him. It was a perfect copy of the one in the SIC. "Baron Ochs has set Count Hevring up for a similarly humiliating defeat, except it's even more devastating. Hannibal won the battle, but he lost the war because his forte was tactics, not strategy. Our dear Baron is not about to make the same mistake."

Being somewhat more knowledgeable on the ancient histories than the others in the room, Rhea had some idea what he was talking about. "Explain more," she said.

Hyperion inclined his head. "Certainly. While Hannibal won every battle for several decades, he could not achieve victory because his supply lines kept getting raided. Look at what the Ochs troops are doing." He pointed at the map again.

Everyone took a look, and comprehension dawned on quite a few faces. "He's cutting off supply, forcing Count Hevring to send back troops and guard the supply lines."

"No, that's not it. Something bigger is going on here," commented Jeralt.

The holographic image of Hyperion grinned. "And we've got a winner. Look precisely at the troop distribution."

It took a few seconds, but Rhea spoke up again. "Baron Ochs seems to have far more troops than expected. They are also moving strangely. They seem to be encircling Count Hevring's troops."

"Genius!" said Wolfgang. "The whole army has been lured into Ochs territory. They didn't encounter any resistance and simply pressed on. Once they hear of the supply situation, they'll send a splinter force back to suppress the raiding parties."

"Bingo," agreed the incorporeal man. "That splinter force is going to get destroyed, at which point Count Hevring will have to send a stronger force… except he'll find that he cannot move. Baron Ochs is closing the cordon and occupying towns and forts he has previously abandoned or hidden. The Hevring force will be trapped with no supplies."

"He could split his army into smaller forces and have them occupy line of towns and forts to increase the range of his supply gatherers," pointed out Manuela.

"He cannot," said Rhea. "Both he and Count Bergliez, to a lesser extent, are very unpopular. His household troops are loyal to him, but the Imperial Army's lower officer ranks despise him. It is quite possible that some of their relatives ended up in Nuvelle, and now they know who was responsible and who refused to act. If he splits his army up, those lower ranks will be quick to defect."

Hyperion agreed. "Precisely. Though that risk remains even if he doesn't split up. With supplies dwindling and tempers mounting, it'll be only a question of time until at least a few unit commanders figure out that they could enjoy a meal again if they switched sides or surrendered. Infighting is almost guaranteed."

"That is good news. One question remains, however," interjected Seteth. "Where did Baron Ochs get so many troops?"

Jeralt answered that question. "He mentioned once that during the years when he couldn't raise a proper army, he had ordered every able-bodied person within his lands trained in the use of weapons. My guess is that those troops are simply the militias of the evacuated settlements. They're not much use during offensives, but for things like this, they're good enough."

"Fascinating," said Hanneman. He thought for a bit and added, "There is still the problem of the Arundel forces. Baron Ochs' troops do not seem to be in the right position to stage a defence."

"That's because a defence won't do much good," said Wolfgang. "There are no fortresses or fortified towns in that area. The same strategy won't work there. It seems to me like the Baron is trying to counter superior numbers with aggression, which is bold of him. Winter is just around the corner."

Byleth shook his head. "That's exactly why he does it. Once winter hits, it will be difficult to move armies. If he keeps the Arundel forces from moving until then, he will have bought enough time to crush Count Hevring."

Seteth, who was still looking at the floating map, added another nugget of information. "That is also the explanation for the Fhirdiad offensive, then." As he said this, he pointed at the offending spot on the map.

At the spot he was indicating, many blue dots were converging on a point with quite a few pink dots as well. It looked like a series of battles would be fought there pretty soon. Going by the number and density of the dots, these would likely involve many thousands of soldiers.

"Hmm… likely," commented Jeralt. "If the offensive is successful, Fhirdiad will be secure. If it fails, winter will stop a counter-offensive or stall it for long enough to get the loyalists back in order."

"Well, I'm giving the offensive a good chance of succeeding," said Hyperion.

Byleth looked at him. "Why?" he asked.

"You see that white dot here?" was Hyperion's counter question. He pointed at a small dot that was moving slowly from Fraldarius lands to Aillel. "That's the messenger you guys sent with the suggestion for our overall strategy. Shortly after he arrived in Fraldarius territory, some other messengers were sent and a large, fast-moving force left Galatea lands. My guess is that that force was full of pegasus riders."

4th day of the Red Wolf Moon 1180. Outskirts of Fhirdiad, Loyalist field camp.

The fighting had been fierce so far, mused Rodrigue. It could have been worse, though. It was his luck that nobody expected the vaunted "Shield of Faerghus" to actually stage an offensive. The diversionary attacks by Count Charon and Margrave Gautier had also done a lot to sell the ruse. Rodrigue allowed himself a small smirk at the thought of the success of that gambit.

He was also pleasantly surprised that Count Galatea had answered his request for reinforcements this fast and in these numbers. The only stipulation had been that the pegasus riders were expected to return within two weeks. That put quite a bit of pressure on the Duke, but with the new strategy, it was possible.

Honestly, Rodrigue was quite pleased with the efficiency of the air superiority directive. Archers still had to be avoided, of course, but the enemy had been unprepared for the unorthodox target priority. While fliers would often attack mages, which were a rarity in Faerghus, attacking other fliers was now a feature of loyalist combat doctrine. This meant that their front had suffered due to magic attacks, but the traitor forces in Fhirdiad had not only been unable to attack the loyalist mages, but had also lost almost all of their own fliers after just one day of battle.

"Your Grace, our forces are in position."

Rodrigue looked at the soldier who had pulled him out of his thoughts and nodded. "Good. Proceed with the attack. Have our mages suppress the enemy archers."

"Yes, my Lord!" answered the soldier while bowing. He ran off to relay the order.

Not long after, trumpets blared. The mages, whom Rodrigue had ordered to amass at the centre of the assault, were quick on the uptake. Low-powered magic poured forth and targeted the archers on the walls of Fhirdiad. Their priority wasn't to kill or destroy as much as it was to distract, and they did a phenomenal job at it.

A few minutes into the action, Duke Fraldarius gave new orders. "Begin the next stage. Have the first wave of fliers attack."

Drums and trumpets sounded and a good 2'000 pegasus riders rose into the sky. They were supported by 130 wyvern riders, nearly half of Duke Fraldarius' total available number. They flew over the wall of Fhirdiad and, as they did so, attacked the traitor soldiers occupying them. The superior speed and reach of the fliers ensured that retaliation was often ineffective. After the first pass was over, the fliers returned and struck the archers before they could gather their wits. Then, their trumpeters gave many short bursts of sound, announcing that they were diving in an attacking the troops on the ground.

This was the signal for the next phase of the attack. "Assault the walls!" ordered Rodrigue. "Second wave of fliers, attack! Cavalry, make ready!"

A cacophony of instruments relayed the orders. Magically reinforced siege ladders were brought to bear as thousands of infantrymen and -women stormed towards the city walls. Within the minute, the ladders were deployed and the Fraldarius soldiers ascended them as fast as they could. The earlier assault by the pegasus riders had fortunately borne fruit and the ascent was barely challenged. The enemy was only now slowly filling the gaps, or trying to in any case.

As the struggle for the walls took place, the second wave of fliers arrived. A further 1'500 pegasus riders attacked the traitors on the wall before descending on the ground troops in the city itself. Their first priority was the archers, who had moved into position to attack the first wave of fliers. The new arrivals forced them to redeploy, seeing as some of their number were already under attack.

In the confusion, nobody noticed the 80 wyvern riders that had come with the second wave. They touched the ground just beyond the wall and dismounted. Their target was the gatehouse, which they quickly proceeded to storm. Due to the geometry of the place, it took nearly half an hour for the dozen or so defenders to be overwhelmed by the attacking force. Duke Fraldarius' soldiers did, however, eventually seize the gatehouse. They opened the gate, lowered the drawbridge, and then quickly descended the steps of the building again to get on their mounts and join the fight.

Outside the walls, Rodrigue watched the gate open and immediately gave the order to attack. He and his horse riders advanced towards the open gate and, once they had passed it, began to charge. The fliers took to the skies as they heard the cavalry horns, leaving the streets free for Rodrigue and his knights to attack the enemy.

The Duke himself struck first by casting Aura at the unfortunate spearmen trying to fend off the charge. An entire company's worth of soldiers were blasted away by the powerful spell, causing battle order to nearly disintegrate just because of that alone. The thing that did lead to that result was the impact of the cavalry charge. The unfortunate soldiers who stood in the way of this deluge of horse and human were gored by lances or trampled under the hooves of horses.

Before long, the defences of the lower city were overwhelmed. Except for the north gate, every other access point to the city was taken by the Fraldarius soldiers. With the help of the fliers, advances into the upper city were also slowly taking place. The royal palace was the stage of engagements soon enough, and the weakening resistance made Rodrigue immensely suspicious.

It was at this point that one of the pegasus riders landed next to Rodrigue and gave his report. "Your Grace, the enemy is in full retreat. Rufus has been sighted moving towards the north gate in the company of Cornelia. It seems they intend to flee."

That was likely a wise move. It also explained the lack of resistance in the upper city. Rufus' rebellion would fail if he were to be captured or killed before its first month was over, after all. "I see," said Rodrigue. "Secure the city. Have the fliers pursue the traitors if it can be done safely."

The rider grimaced. "That might not be possible. The pegasi are starting to tire. The wyverns have greater endurance, but we don't have enough of them. They would get slaughtered."

Rodrigue frowned. "Very well," he said. Displeasure was in his tone, but he was not about to dispute the rider's claim. The animal did look rather tired. "It seems we must content ourselves with securing the city."

It was not quite the result he had hoped for, but the objective of the battle had been achieved. Fhirdiad would be in the hands of the loyalists by the evening. Overextending now wouldn't benefit anyone but the enemy.

5th day of the Red Wolf Moon 1180. Garreg Mach, guest quarters of the Archbishop.

Lying on the soft mattress of her bed, Anselma wondered at the strangeness of the last few months. It was a good kind of strange, considering what had been before. She shuddered at the mere thought of it and reminded herself to ask Lord Hyperion for help again that night. A light snort escaped her as she imagined the exasperated expression he tended to wear when people called him that.

"The reverence that title carries comes with expectations, Anselma. I dislike expectations because I tend to not live up to them. I will do what I can, but, please, don't expect too much."

She wouldn't be too upset if his fears became reality. He'd done more for her than many others already. The only other person who could claim that kind of gratitude from her was Byleth, the young man who had rescued her from her nightmare. She sunk deeper into the covers as she thought about that. There wasn't a night that she didn't thank the Goddess for his existence, no matter the protestations that it hadn't been up to her.

In a matter closely related to that, Anselma was very glad that it was this man that her daughter had fallen in love with. Edelgard had never admitted as much, of course, but it was clear as day to her. That he was a Professor was somewhat less fortunate, but Edelgard was of age, and once she had graduated, it wouldn't be a problem anymore. Age differences wouldn't be much of a hurdle in this relationship either, unlike with her own case.

Ionius had often admitted to her that he had felt like he'd been taking advantage of her. In her own mind, Anselma now thought that that had been kind of true. She had been of age when they had married after just a short engagement, but she'd been a young woman of eighteen years of age, and he had been in the second half of his fifties. That realisation had led to another: That she'd never been in love with him. She had had a crush on him, had found him attractive and had married him without thinking too much of it. By that point, however, she had already been pregnant with Edelgard. At least Ionius had understood when she'd explained it to him and had thereafter never touched her again.

Her second marriage with Lambert had not suffered from much of an age gap, but there had been other issues. She had loved him, truly loved him, at first, but the secrets and the lies of herself and of others had changed that. And it all resulted in that damnable day, when everything had gone wrong, when her husband had died, when her precious Dimitri had lost everything, when she had become the plaything of a sadistic monster. So much misfortune, so much death had been caused that day.

Death. Now that was a subject that had gained an entirely new perspective. Anselma thought back to the night when she and Edelgard had been pulled away into the Underworld to visit their dead family. Tears had flowed that night, and screams of sorrow had followed, from both sides. Relief and happiness had come later. They hadn't been allowed to say much about how the afterlife was, but her children and her sister-wives had assured the both of them that they were all being treated well and enjoyed a comfortable existence in the Underworld. Though, a very stern reminder had followed that neither of them should be too quick to arrive there themselves, and that at least Edelgard had new family in the living world.

A small smile graced Anselma's lips as she thought about that. It seemed her daughter had developed sisterly affection for the Ordelia girl. With how similar the two's backgrounds were, that was understandable, and Anselma was looking forward to properly meeting her.

With that thought in mind, she threw the covers off herself and stood up. She entered the small washroom adjacent to the bedroom and took care of her morning ablutions. After she had washed herself and taken care of her bodily needs, she dressed herself in preparation for the impending arrival of her guests.

Her clothing of choice these days was a rather simple, dark-red dress provided to her by her daughter's classmate Dorothea. They had roughly the same figure, and so it fit her well. Naturally, the girl had been thanked profusely and had been reimbursed for the loss, though Anselma was reasonably sure Dorothea would have a fit if she knew what was under that dress now. Anselma had chosen to wear trousers under the dress, after all. It made her feel a bit safer, even if it was objectively speaking a pretty flimsy defence.

A knock on the door of her chambers brought her out of her thoughts. "It's me, Mother. I've brought your guests," came a voice from its other side.

Anselma smiled. "Come in!" she shouted.

Just as she stepped into the small atrium of the chambers, the door opened. The four faces that greeted her belonged to Edelgard, Lysithea and her parents. The latter three looked a bit nervous, but she greeted them with a warm smile on her face. "Come and sit with me," she said and gestured towards the table.

Once all of them were seated, Anselma spoke up again. She addressed Lysithea first. "It's nice to meet you finally. I have been very curious to see you again ever since I learned of the friendship between you and Edelgard. There was no time for a casual talk when we last met."

"Likewise," said the girl in question. She was somewhat flustered. This was the first time she could remember meeting a friend's parent – or having a friend at all – since the fiasco that had been the Hrym revolt. She was having trouble finding the appropriate words.

Anselma now turned to Lysithea's parents. "It is, of course, also nice to meet you two," she said.

Lord and Lady Ordelia exchanged glances before the Lady took the word. "It is an honour to be here, Your Highness."

"There is no need for such formalities," was the reply they received. "This meeting shouldn't be about politics."

"I'd prefer it that way as well," commented Edelgard. "I will have to be the Crown Princess far too often for my liking in the near future. It would be best if I could enjoy being just Edelgard while I can."

Lysithea nodded in agreement. "There is still a lot to do, but I should follow the Professor's advice and relax now and then. Politics is not conducive to relaxation at all."

That prompted a giggle from Anselma. "Very true, Lysithea. I can already see that we'll get along well," she said.

"If I may be so bold," said Lord Ordelia, "What is the purpose of our presence, then?"

Anselma blinked owlishly. "Didn't Edelgard tell you? I wanted to meet the girl my daughter views as a little sister as well as her parents." Embarrassed blushed spread on the girls' faces. Edelgard wondered is her mother had taken on embarrassing her as a hobby.

Lord and Lady Ordelia looked at each other. "She did tell us, but… Well, we are used to actual purposes differing from stated ones. And if you say our Lysithea is as a sister to the Prin-… to Edelgard, then this gains a whole new dimension," said the Lady.

There was a small pause and Anselma took a deep breath through the nose before she answered. "This is not Leicester. Me calling you here has nothing to do with political gambits." Another small pause followed, after which she continued. "I could blame you for helping House Hrym revolt and kickstarting the Insurrection. I could blame you for your family's suffering, for my family's suffering and my own personal suffering, but I will not. Some blame falls to you, but just as much, if not more, falls to my brother, and even more to those who masterminded all these events."

Uncomfortable silence followed that statement. A few nervous coughs were had and a few twitches here or there. After some time, Lysithea had had enough. "Let's get on with this. We don't have all day," she said. Then, she looked at Anselma and went on. "Since this is all about getting to know each other, how about you start?"

Anselma smiled. "That's a good idea. Now, where do I begin?"

6th day of the Red Wolf Moon 1180. Alliance Field Camp in Gloucester territory.

Judith was not a happy camper. War was never a happy occasion, even less so when one was on the losing side of it, and the Alliance was clearly on it. It might not have been obvious to the blustering numbskulls in command of this army, but she knew better. Sure, they had won the first two battles, but they had not looked at the big picture. Drunk on victory, they had not noticed that they were on the backfoot when it came to strategy.

So far, a good third of Gloucester territory was already lost to Acheron and his backers. For every battle the Alliance had won, they had lost two by virtue of not being there to fight them. She didn't think the commanders of this Alliance army knew just how deep they were in the muck. If another army didn't arrive soon, they would find themselves encircled.

Fortunately, Duke Riegan had more sense than the idiots here, and had sent her to take over command of this army. Already, she could see that her delicate touch would be needed. Discipline was taking a nosedive thanks to the petty rivalries amongst the minor nobles who perpetuated their feuds in the camp. The simpering crowd of Count Gloucester's sycophants that formed the army's command staff didn't help either. Sadly, she was stuck with those for now. Until they pissed or off, that was.

"Ah, Lady Judith! It is good to see you," greeted one of the staff officers, the highest-ranking one from what she knew, as she entered the command tent. "You should have notified us of your arrival sooner. We would have organised a welcome befitting-"

"We have no time for this," interrupted Judith. "We're wasting enough of it as it is. Lord Cromwell, you are relieved of command. This is my show now."

The man was left sputtering as she stepped past him towards the map on the table. "Y-you can't just-," he started.

"Yes, I can," she rebuked. "This is the Alliance. Its leader is Duke Riegan. In war, Duke Riegan's orders are to be followed. He has ordered me to take command, and so I did. Now shut up."

She was snappier than usual, but with war on their doorstep, that was excusable. And if it wasn't, that was no big loss. She didn't care about how insulted a puffed-up idiot felt about the truth. Adding to her irritation was also the headache she felt while looking at the map.

"Lord Cromwell," she began, "Can you explain to me why the enemy positions aren't marked on the map?"

"Enemy positions?" he asked.

She levelled him with a withering glare. "Tell me why you have not noted any information your scouts delivered to you on the map," she ground out.

Lord Cromwell was sweating. Judith was apparently scaring him. Good, she thought. Maybe it would keep him from being stupid in the future.

"Scouting is normally the job of Lord Fainworth's soldiers, my Lady," he tried to defend himself.

Judith growled. Why did every noble she met recently have to be so stupid? "You imbecile! Fainworth is dead and his troops routed!"

Lord Cromwell was angry now. "My Lady, I will not tolerate this blatant insult!"

"You will!" shouted Judith as she walked up to him. She poked him in the chest and continued, "And I will have you assigned to latrine duty so you can shovel some of the shit you've landed us in out of the way!" She then pointed a finger at one of the guards in the tent. "You! Take Lord Cromwell here and supervise him while he pursues his new duties."

Her heated look got the guard to obey. The soldier dragged off the sputtering Lord, who kept shouting in protest. Judith ignored him and instead waved another guard over. "Find Lady Dinnes and tell her to get her cavalry ready. I want her fastest soldiers on scout duty. The same goes for Lord Gallad. I want his fastest pegasi and wyverns. I want to know where the enemy is, yesterday!"

"Yes, my Lady!" said the guard before he ran off.

Now that she was alone, Judith allowed herself a long-suffering sigh and massaged her temples. With how this had started, she didn't have high hopes for the campaign. Reinforcements would be needed quickly, which was highly ironic since this army was already supposed to reinforce Count Gloucester's own forces. Until such time, however, it was her job to see to it that neither she nor the Count ended up encircled. It was a tough task by itself.

Her spies and already informed her of the incredible disadvantage they were at. She didn't have eyes and ears everywhere, but she had them at the Great Bridge of Myrddin, and the picture they painted was bleak. After the initial invasion during the Horsebow Moon, 40'000 more soldiers had crossed the bridge. Worsening this situation was the stream of enemy reinforcements crossing the bridge every week. Roughly 10'000 men and women made their way into Alliance territory every seven days. With everything added up, the Alliance saw itself confronted with at least 120'000 enemy soldiers. She had no idea where they were coming from, but the fact was that they were there and that they were a problem.

The two armies the Alliance had been able to muster so far were a pitiful comparison. 30'000 from Count Gloucester and the 15'000 under her command were not much in the face of that. The other Alliance Lords were busy raising more troops, certainly, but House Goneril could not be counted on because of their border duty, and the other Houses were either far away, such as House Edmund, a complete non-factor, such as House Ordelia, or just plain too small to matter. House Riegan was the only exception, and the Duke was already doing everything he could to assemble a large army.

Her contacts at Garreg Mach had assured her that the Church was also mustering troops, but Judith was unsure how much of a help they would be. Their armed forces were famous for being excellent, but they were also few in number. It was not clear to her how the Church would behave in this war, though from what her contacts could gather, they planned on interfering in all three wars currently going on. She was doubtful whether that was a smart idea. Still, if they could send help, she wasn't going to decline.

She stopped that train of thought when she saw the guard from earlier returning. "Your orders have been relayed, my Lady!" he said. His expression shifted into an unsure one. "I, uhm… have taken the liberty of summoning Lady Dinnes and Lord Gallad to the tent. Since you did not specify what areas you wished the scouts to cover, I assumed that you wanted to tell them in person."

Judith was pleasantly surprised. A soldier who could think. "Good thinking, soldier. Keep it up."

The guard bowed. "Thank you, my Lady."

Well then, there was a campaign to plan.

7th day of the Red Wolf Moon 1180, late evening. Byleth's mindscape.

Sothis chewed on her lip in nervousness. She had promised Hyperion that they would talk about what had happened, but now a week had passed without that conversation. He hadn't pressed her for it, hadn't even spoken about it. Oh, she was she sure he was thinking about it, but he would wait for some time before he would even mention it. So, it was on her to broach the topic.

This was harder than she had hoped. She might have a grasp on his character, but she was still having a hard time figuring out how to best approach both topics she wanted to talk about. By itself, the thing about the kiss was easy, but the matter of the apology would complicate matters. She would have to talk about that first before she could say anything about the former. To do otherwise would be disingenuous.

She needed advice. The problem with that was that the people she would have liked to turn to would be of no help in this regard. Seiros didn't like Hyperion at all, and neither Cichol nor Cethleann knew him well enough to predict his responses. As such, she needed a new avenue for advice. It was a turn of good fortune, then, that she knew someone who knew him well and was similar enough to help her out.

And so, here she was, approaching the only person who could help her with her conundrum. "Byleth," she began, "Can I talk with you for a minute? In private."

He nodded. "Thank you," she said. She began to walk towards the stairs of her throne, pleased to note that Byleth was following her. Once they had reached the top, she stopped to gather her words. After a few seconds of deliberation, she said, "I need your advice."

Byleth blinked. That was a first. Sothis rarely asked for anything, least of all other people's opinions about what she was supposed to do. "About what?" he asked.

"It's about Hyperion," she said.

"Then why don't you ask him? He won't mind," countered Byleth.

Sothis looked uncomfortable at that question. "I can't ask him," she said. "It's… it's a mess. I've done something I shouldn't have. He doesn't know about it, but it's him I wronged. Now, I'm trying to figure out how I should apologise."

Byleth frowned in thought. "I see. Why do you ask me, though? I'm not good at emotional stuff."

"Neither is he," pointed out the Goddess. "You two are very similar in that regard. That's why I'm asking you. I want to apologise in a way that doesn't offend him, and you're the closest reference point I have."

"That does make sense," he answered.

"So, any advice?" she asked.

The young Professor hummed as he thought. "Be genuine. Try not to make promises if you can't back them up immediately."

Sothis nodded slowly. "Okay. Anything else?"

Byleth thought for a moment. "What exactly did you do?"

"I…," began Sothis, "I'd rather not say. What I'm willing to say is that I took advantage of his trust."

"Trust, hmm…." Byleth's mind was hard at work for a few seconds. Then, he said, "Show him that you trust him."

The Goddess was puzzled at that. "How should I do that?"

"I don't know. Maybe let him take advantage of yours," he responded.

She shot him a glare. "I won't entrap him just so I can guilt-trip him into forgiving me!"

Byleth shook his head. "That's not what I meant. Offer it to him freely, but don't shove it down his throat."

Sothis frowned and thought it over. "That… might work. If you say it is about showing trust, then I think I know what to do. Thank you for your help, Byleth."

He nodded in response. "You're welcome."

With Sothis satisfied, Byleth made to leave again, but he was stopped when she started to talk again. "Stay for a bit. We don't talk nearly enough when it's just the two of us."

He turned around again. "Alright."

She smiled at him and asked, "How are you holding up? You're under a lot of pressure right now."

Byleth blinked, pleasantly surprised at the question. "It's going alright," he said. "Training, teaching and learning are stressful but rewarding."

That awakened fond memories for the Goddess. They were memories of good days. Not better days necessarily, but good days, back when her eldest children had been children for real and she had needed to care for them on that long, lonely journey. "It is, yes," she said with an air of dreaminess.

"You were a teacher too?" he asked.

She nodded. "Yes. It is a time I remember very fondly. I loved it. It's possible that my love for teaching was imprinted on you."

The young man in front of her scratched his chin. It was a habit he was trying to acquire to make up for his lack of facial expressions. "If it was, then I'm grateful," he said. "Watching over my students and my squire is… pleasant."

"Oh, right! You're a knight now. Lars must have been beside himself when you made him your squire," said Sothis.

The shadow of a smirk made its way onto Byleth's face. "He was skipping and dancing for hours. Jana and the others laughed themselves sick."

Sothis tried, and failed, to suppress a giggle. "I can imagine. Now I wish I could have seen it," she said mirthfully.

"The students are can be a bit of a handful sometimes," said Byleth, apparently finished with the previous topic.

She was used to this by now. Both of her headmates, Hyperion more so than Byleth, sometimes circled back to a previous topic without preamble when the current one was exhausted. It nearly gave her whiplash sometimes, but she'd learned to deal with it.

"In an endearing way though," responded Sothis.

Byleth agreed. "Yes. I wasn't aware you talked much with them. Do they pray a lot?"

"Some of them do," she said. "Claude has only prayed to me once, out of curiosity, and then basically interrogated me for an hour. He's a sly young man, that one. Marianne, on the other hand, does so very frequently. It's often about advice and personal problems. She's improved a lot though."

"That's good to hear," he said.

Sothis inclined her head in agreement. She grinned. "There's also a few amusing tales. The first time Ignatz saw me, he nearly fainted. He kept murmuring about having the wrong image and starting from scratch before he started apologising. I think I got him to calm down, but not fully."

"So that's why he burned that unfinished painting," commented Byleth.

The Goddess laughed. "Quite. Poor boy, though. He needs a bit more confidence."

"Agreed," said Byleth. "I'm working on it."

"Good," said Sothis with a nod.

Byleth suddenly stilled even more than was usual. "We need to break off here. Somebody is trying to wake me up."

Sothis looked mildly disappointed at that. "Oh well, nothing for it, I guess. Thank you for the advice again. I'll see you soon."

"See you soon," responded Byleth, after which he faded from the mindscape.

Later that night. Byleth's mindscape.

As I sat on a chair at my workstation, I contemplated that despite the lack of official missions, the last month had been very busy, and that trend had carried over to this one, apparently. There was always something going. Case in point, Byleth had been dragged out of bed by Catherine. Rhea had summoned him because of an emergency.

Said emergency had turned out to be Agarthan infiltrators. It seemed that Thales had wanted to test the nature and strength of our defences against their disguises. The Reveal spell had turned out to be effective once again, shattering not only the Agarthan body mimicry but also the various illusions draped around the infiltrators. Still, they wouldn't have been caught if it hadn't been for our very own band of Agarthans spotting them.

That was still a bit strange to me. Our Agarthans. Well, my Agarthans, technically. Getting them out of their cells had almost destroyed whatever miniscule goodwill I had built with Rhea, but I had promised them freedom and had sworn to look after them. At least they would prove their loyalty in her eyes, which was ridiculous. Their loyalty was assured beyond doubt. Rhea just didn't want to believe it.

On that note, I had finally managed to get those four to fess up just why they had sworn themselves to me for eternity. It was actually fairly obvious, and I should have realised it much sooner. The reason for their oath had been the wording of mine: So long as they stayed loyal to me, I would stay loyal to them.

For people like them, who were used to being treated like disposable tools, or worse in Nadja's case, that kind of security was like a bottle of cool water to a wanderer lost in the desert. To know that there was someone who would not, could not, betray them was relieving beyond words to them. It was at once smart, sad and strangely heart-warming. It felt good to be appreciated, and I was determined to be worthy of that appreciation.

Speaking of appreciation, Sothis had mentioned that we should finally have the conversation she had promised. I was a bit apprehensive about that. Hers had been my first kiss, and I had no clue what the meant for the both of us. On one hand, I had liked it, very much so; the soft lips of an incredibly attractive woman would do that. On the other hand, I feared that nothing would come of it, that it had just been an impulsive action. Though, paradoxically, I also feared the possibility that there had been genuine feelings behind that, and that I wouldn't be able to return those feelings.

To be honest, that was my biggest fear about this talk. I didn't want to disappoint her, but I knew that pretending to love her would end even way worse. The problem here was that I genuinely didn't know if I even loved her.

That was a maddening sort of issue for me. I had been in love exactly once in my life, and I only knew about it because others had told me that it had been blatantly obvious. That "knowledge" was tempered with the fact that I hadn't ever been able to tell for sure and was not able to do so to this very day.

I sighed. If only there was a way to be sure.

Two seconds passed before I clapped my hand to my forehead. I looked at my wrist. "Alright then," I said to myself. "Let's see if-"

"Hyperion?"

Ah, there she was. Sothis walked up to me and I put away my headphones, which I used to stay in contact with the SIC when I wasn't in the Underworld. I pushed myself away from my workspace and turned to look at her.

There was an uncharacteristically serious look on her face. No playfulness or gentle reproach in them, no teasing, no amusement, nothing. I sobered up quickly in response. Dread was mounting in me. This couldn't be good. Something had to be seriously wrong for her to be like this, and I only hoped that it wasn't because of something I did.

Her eyes met mine head-on as she said, "We need to talk. Now. In private."

I nodded and stood up. We then both turned towards the lounge area and began our short walk. While we were on our way, I tried not to let my worry consume me. Was she angry at me? No, that didn't make sense. She had kissed me, not the other way around. Did she regret it? I was queasy as I thought about that.

We arrived at our destination in short order. I let her sit down first. She chose the couch, and so, I sat down next to her at an angle. As I observed her, I finally noticed something about her stony expression that I hadn't before. She seemed to be restraining herself. I almost didn't notice, but I could tell that she was trying to suppress her body's shaking. I was really worried now.

"Sothis, what's wrong?" I asked.

"It's… difficult for me to talk about," she said in response.

I frowned. "If it makes you uncomfortable, we can always postpone this."

She shook her head vehemently. "No, if I don't do it now, I won't ever, and that will make things so much worse." Her strong, stony expression was coming closer to cracking now. That was not good.

"I don't understand," I said. I really didn't. "If talking about… the kiss is that bad for you, I can just forget it ever happened."

It would hurt for me to do so, but I would do it. I hated seeing her in this trembling state. It reminded me of what I had done on my first night in this world and I was certainly not keen on being responsible for a repeat of it.

"That's part of the problem, but there is something more pressing we have to talk about before," she said. Sothis then clenched her eyes shut and took a deep breath. When she opened them again, she continued, "I have come to apologise."

That threw me for a loop. "What for? I can't remember you doing anything to me that would merit an apology. Sothis, you're my friend. Small trespasses are as easily forgiven as I breathe."

I didn't know why, but, to my distress, this just made it worse. She looked close to breaking down. Her response pre-empted any further action by myself, however. "Of course you don't remember. I did it without your knowledge! And it's no small trespass either. I broke your trust!" was the burst of words that left her.

Okay, that was not good. Apprehension spread through me, but I braced myself. For her to say that she'd broken my trust, there had to have been something that would make me angry, and I had to prepare myself for that. Hot-headedness on my end would hurt us both in this instance.

My tone was carefully neutral as I asked, "What, exactly, did you do?"

From there, the story, and a generous number of tears, poured out of her. As she recounted how she spied on me, her distress rose, as did my anger. This was humiliating. She had overheard me talking, well, mumbling to myself. About her, no less! The things I had said could not have endeared her to me, and my heart dropped. A mess of conflicting feelings rampaged through my mind.

"And that's not even the worst of it," she said with a small voice.

She sounded so… so broken. It took wind out of the sails of my anger. I did what I could to calm myself, and asked, "Then what is the worst of it?"

Sothis swallowed drily, which was ironic, considering that she was close to tears. "On one night, when we had one of our usual sessions, I… traced your power back to you and… read the outer layer of your soul."

The spike of anger almost shattered whatever composure I had. How dare she?! I raged internally. The soul was sacrosanct! I had half a mind to tell her to get lost and not come back, but my muted emotional responses proved useful for once.

"I won't lie to you," I said with a hard breath. "I am extremely angry right now. Do you have any idea how much this hurts me? I trusted you, Sothis!"

She didn't speak. I took a long moment to process everything and try to calm myself down. As I looked at her, that internal conflict from earlier inflamed again. Never in all my existence had I been this furious. I had expected for things to go south sooner or later, but this specific brand of betrayal was not something I had been suspecting.

However, there were a few things to consider. Sothis had confessed this breach of trust within a reasonable timeframe. Her intentions had also been borne of concern for my wellbeing. Plus, there was this… tugging at my mind. I didn't want to be angry at her. I most certainly did not want to hate her, but I was hurt.

There was more awkward silence for a good minute before Sothis finally spoke up. "I know its much to ask, but I will do whatever I must to make up for this."

I took a few seconds to look at her. She looked horrible. Her composure had cracked almost completely. Her face was a mess and I could see that this was tearing her up. There was no vindication for me to be felt at that sight, and my response was probably less hostile than she was fearing.

"That is easier said than done. You know that, right?"

She nodded slowly. "I know, but I mean it. I abused your trust, and I hurt you with it. I'm so sorry, Hyperion." She wiped her tears away and sat up straighter again, as if steeling herself for something. "That is why there is only one way for me to show you that I'm serious."

"And that is?" I asked, curious.

She almost faltered at the question, but then she rallied again and said, "I bare my soul to you, Hyperion. Not just the surface or the outer layer. All of it."

Any anger still within me fled me at that moment. Offering such an extreme thing…

"I won't insult your intelligence by asking if you're aware of what you're doing, but are you really sure about this?" I asked. "I would know everything about you. Every humiliating secret you have, your every memory, every facet of your personality, hopes, dreams, desires, fears and whatever else that makes you who and what you are would be known to me. Why would you do that?"

She fixed me with a serious look, composure rebuilt and strength in her frame again. "Three reasons. Because I'm sorry and I needed to show you that. Because, whether you still trust me or not,I trust you. And because…" She paused for a second. "Because I love you."

Whatever response I had prepared vacated my mind. "You what?" I whispered.

She swallowed drily again. "I love you, Hyperion," she said. "I didn't kiss you on a whim."

I lowered my gaze and directed it at my lap. "Give me a minute. I need to think about this," I said.

Now I finally knew why she hadn't wanted to talk about the kiss first. "I love you, by the way, I betrayed your trust," was worse than "I betrayed your trust, but I love you." It also made the waiting period of a full week painfully clear. It was a miracle that she had even told me at all. If I had been in her shoes, I wouldn't have had the courage.

The big question was how I would deal with this. I was unsure whether I should take her up on her offer. She'd said she loved me and that she trusted me. She knew I would know instantly if she had lied with just one look at her soul. In the end, I chose to let a single factor decide what I would do. I focussed on my wrist until a band of fire appeared around it, and I tugged on it.

"What is that?" I heard Sothis ask as a strange sensation overtook me.

A sudden sort of clarity befell me. For the first time I could recall, an elusive feeling became almost tangible to me. It was like seeing an island under a thin film of water. It wasn't unobstructed or unmuted, but for the first time in my life, I knew what romantic love was. I knew what it was and that I was feeling it. And the person I was feeling it for was right in front of me.

As I let go of the band of fire, I looked back at Sothis again. I scooted forward and put my hands on the sides of her head. I had a feeling that what I was about to do would be the most important decision of my life.

"Sothis, I will look into your soul. I will see all that you are and were. But you will see all of me as well. You will look at my soul and you will have to decide if I'm worth loving," I said.

Her eyes went wide. "But why?" she asked.

My answer was quick and clear. "Because I love you too, and I want to know if I'm worthy of love. Now, brace yourself."

"Wait, what do you-"

Her question was cut off as my powers began their work. Despite her confusion, her AT field offered no resistance, as did mine, and the connection was open. As she delved into my soul, I delved into hers.

There was much to see even on the outermost layer. Apprehension, tenseness, sadness and a vast amount of love. It was love for her children, for friends current and long gone, for the people she wanted to protect and… for me. Attached to it was fear, so much of it that it nearly punched me in my proverbial face. It was a soul-crushing fear of abandonment and loneliness, reinforced by the certainty that she was responsible for it. That fear spoke of scars so terribly deep and old that I had actually not even reached them despite all our soul-soothing sessions. And, around all of this was just barely enough courage to make her offer to me.

With a tenderness I hadn't thought myself capable of, I caressed her soul with my own, trying to convey my intentions. I forgive you, was what I desperately hoped to communicate as I delved deeper into her being. There was a jolt of joy that went through the outer layer of her soul. I smiled, knowing that my message had been received.

Further thought fled me, then, as I descended into the next layer of her soul, and everything faded.

AN: Hello, hello, dear readers!

Things are finally moving on the fronts of love and war. I have no clue how many have looked forward to this progression on the romantic side of things, but I hope you all enjoyed it nonetheless. On the war side of things, Rodrigue and Judith finally make an appearance. Their characters are a bit difficult for me to write, though I certainly hope I did a good job with it.

As usual, I would like to thank everyone who has followed, favourited and reviewed. I'm glad for your feedback.

Now then, this chapter's recommended story is Never Cut Twice by thales85 (an ironic recommendation when considering Three Houses). It is, as many of my recommendations are, a self-insert story. It plays in the universe of A Song of Ice and Fire and features the scion of House Ryther, a rather unimportant vassal of House Glover. However, where there is a will, there is a way, and there is more than enough will in the protagonist to succeed in his mission to survive Ironborn raiders, disease, cultural tensions, and the ice-zombie apocalypse.

Until next time. Stay happy and healthy, everyone!