Chapter 36: Initiative

26th day of the Guardian Moon 1180. Garreg Mach

While the revelations at Zanado had left a lot of people reeling, life continued more or less as usual for those who had known most of it beforehand. Case in point, Hanneman was currently in his office, having returned earlier that day, and was busy doing more research on Crests. Specifically, he was looking into his recent discoveries concerning one of his most urgent projects. It was good news, and so he had invited the subjects of his research to have a look at his results so far.

It was for this reason that Lysithea and Edelgard came to his office, Hubert and Linhardt in tow. While only the presence of the former two was necessary, the other two were not unwelcome. Hubert not only came out of his devotion to the Imperial Princess but also because of the prospect of learning more about magic. Linhardt had come because he occasionally served as research assistant to Hanneman and had even helped a bit with the current project.

"Ah, come in, come in. I have good news to share," said Hanneman.

Upon entering, Edelgard asked, "What sort of good news are we talking about? I can already guess what the topic is, but there might still be a reason to temper our optimism."

Hanneman hummed and said, "Well, with the aid of some unusual help, I have managed to deduce a way for you and Lysithea to be rid of your particular problem. The solution comes with strings attached, however."

Hubert's eyes narrowed at that. His eyes threatened to bore a hole into the aging Professor's skull. "What sort of strings are we talking about? Come to think of it, I wonder if those are connected to this unusual help you were speaking of."

"You have a sharp mind, Hubert. However, it is not something overly worrisome – the unusual nature of the aid I received, that is," said Hanneman while shaking his head. "Allow me to explain."

He adjusted his monocle before continuing, "As the war keeps me exceedingly busy with commanding, teaching and training, not to mention my work with the newly minted Special Mage Corps, I have had little time to devote myself to the research of dual Crests. The time-sensitive nature of the matter therefore urged me to seek help. While Linhardt here has provided a tremendous contribution to the effort, that was not enough. So, I turned to the next best solution. I asked Hyperion to search for volunteers among the many souls in the realms of the dead."

"Fascinating," stated Linhardt. "Unlimited access to the most brilliant minds to have ever lived… well, died. The possibilities are endless. I imagine there were results in a timely manner, yes?"

"Indeed," said Hanneman with a nod. "I admit, it took me an embarrassing amount of time to think of this. Fortunately, it is as you said. I made my request only two weeks ago, but there have already been positive responses. A treatment method is in its development stages."

"What does this treatment entail? You talked about this thing being with strings attached," asked Lysithea.

The older man inclined his head and answered, "A fair question. This applies more to you than the others, considering that you have expressed a clear distaste for the Crests you bear. In short, the treatment requires you to keep them both."

"But how would that fix the situation?" protested Lysithea. "They are the source of the problem."

A shake of Hanneman's head prefaced his response. "They are not. The actual source is the method of the second Crest's implantation. You see, Hyperion's original thought was that sorcery involving the Qlipha Thaumiel had been used to 'make room' for the second Crest. Thaumiel is the principle of contending forces. By forcing your original Crest to become one of the contending forces, they could implant another Crest as a second contender. Your and Edelgard's shortened lifespans are the byproduct of the 'battle' between these contending forces. The data Linhardt and I gathered concerning this has confirmed this hypothesis after analysis by the research team.

With the cause of the issue known, it was possible to devise a solution. As the blood reconstruction surgery relied on Qliphothic sorcery, the method to mitigate its detrimental effects relies on Sephirothic sorcery. The Sephira serving as a counterpart to Thaumiel is Kether. Kether is the principle of the crown, symbolising conceptuality, origin, creation and unity. The latter is the basis for a series of rituals currently in development with the goal of ceasing the conflict between your Crests. If successful, you will reap the benefits of having them without suffering the detriment any further."

The four youngsters took a minute to process that information. Among them, only Edelgard was almost completely clueless about the mechanics of what Hanneman had said. She did not have their background in magic and its inner workings, even though she had recently studied a bit more in the field. She was still quite capable of paying attention, however. As such, she quickly found an issue to raise.

"What will these rituals involve?" she asked.

"Yes, I am quite curious about that as well," said Linhardt.

"Indeed," added Hubert, "It would not do for any of them to harm Lady Edelgard or bring about… undue changes."

Lysithea piped in as well, "Yes. I won't agree to participate in any sort of ritual unless I know it's safe."

"There should be no safety concerns," said Hanneman. "The rituals will likely be very time-consuming, however. In addition, they are also going to be mentally and physically taxing. The exact length of the process is not yet certain, but it is to be expected that the rituals must be performed over a period of at least a full week."

"That is an awful lot of time," said Lysithea. "Is there no way to make it shorter?"

Hanneman shook his head. "Not safely. The reason for the excessive time consumption is one of safety. That way, the strain is paced out over a long period of time. To do otherwise is to risk physical and mental harm. That would be unacceptable."

"Agreed," said Hubert. "It is lamentable, but probably also the best course of action available to us. Is there a projected time when development will be finished?"

"I cannot say," answered Hanneman. "It should not take too long, but rituals are tricky, I have been informed. It is also possible that certain ingredients may be necessary. Nevertheless, I will inform you as soon as there is tangible progress."

"Very well," said Hubert.

"Is there anything else?" asked Linhardt. "As exciting as this is, I'm getting sleepy."

Hanneman shook his head. "No. The important things have all been said. You are free to leave."

28th day of the Guardian Moon 1180. Underworld, fields of Asphodel.

Asphodel was usually a vibrant place. Its far-reaching meadows were a sight to behold. Easy to work farmland for hectares upon hectares, sprawling villages, towns, cities and other pleasant sights dotted the landscape. The air was good to breathe and the climate temperate. This was a place where regular people would spend their afterlives, forever inhabiting a land that wasn't quite paradise, but was still vastly better than anything in the realms of the living. As such, there was usually peace.

Sadly, however, this was not a normal situation. Massive stretches of the infinite expanse that was the fields of Asphodel were the sites of huge battles. Hundreds of thousands – if not millions – clashed. The clamour could be heard from kilometres away. The verdant fields were drenched in blood. Weapons and armour clashed, were shattered, pierced and subjected to all sorts of punishment, as were the people who used them.

I was situated in a building on a lone hill in this mess. I observed the nearest of the many battles that were taking place for a while. It was at once horrifying and inspiring to watch a clash of this magnitude. I was comforted with the knowledge that no one was truly in any danger, however. Everyone here was already dead, myself being the exception, and would reawaken in their homes upon being "killed" on the battlefield. To an outside observer, the whole thing might have looked pointless, but there was a reason for this mad slaughter.

"It seems like the purple army is winning this round," I said to the person next to me.

"Indeed, Your Majesty," responded the person.

This was Hannes, a general who had served under Emperor Wilhelm Paul Hresvelg. He was one of my many analysts and a valuable member of my officer corps. His opinion was gold in my eyes. His expertise in the methods of warfare used by the powers of Fodlan had been a godsend so far. Not only that, but he had contributed much to the army reforms the Knights of Seiros were in the process of finishing right now. It had also been him who had started the many battles around Asphodel.

"I'm still shocked how many actually volunteered for this," I remarked.

Hannes snorted. "Your Majesty, when you came and said that you needed help to defeat the enemy of the Goddess, they came running without hesitation. Even when they learned that all they could do was test new tactics and strategies, their enthusiasm wasn't dampened one bit. I believe you of all people know how beloved the Goddess is," he said.

Indeed, every single battle going on right now was either a test of new stratagems or simulations of battles that were soon to happen in the war. When I had called for volunteers to participate, an unreal number of people had come forth. The warriors of Valhalla and Elysium had all but tripped over themselves in their haste. Many others had jumped at the chance to provide aid to their living descendants, friends and family. The devout, which meant most of the dead from Fodlan, also wanted to assist their Goddess in any way they could. And so, there was now an abundance of combat data to evaluate.

"In any case," I said, "This battle's result falls in line with the results we were expecting. So far, we have a win/loss ratio of 6:10 for the attacking army in this set-up. We'll note this down as 'risky but worth it' and pass the result on to Baron Ochs. Combined with the results from the other battle and campaign simulations, we can give his offensive the green light."

"Indeed," said Hannes while nodding. "It is unlikely that more than one battle is lost in the beginning stages. With a total of six planned, even a victorious enemy would find themselves surrounded and crushed. I have no objections with the plan of actions."

I grinned and said, "Wonderful. I'll give the Baron the good news tonight." I clapped my hands and went on, "Alright then. Tell the people they can rest. There will be a grand feast tonight for everyone who participated; whatever they want in whatever quantity they want. They deserve nothing less."

"What about you, Your Majesty?" asked Hannes.

I shook my head. "I won't be feasting. I'll be fasting instead. I've always eaten too much. Now that I don't need food anymore, I'll stay away from the temptation of gluttony. I won't risk turning flabby again. Besides, I've got more important stuff to do."

"Such as?" he asked with a frown.

"I need to consult with the other strategic advisors. After that, I want to make a visit to a few people and after that… training," I said with a sigh.

Hannes had the gall to laugh at my misfortune. "Do not be so upset, Your Majesty. Every King must know how to fight."

"I know, I know. Thucydides once said that the society that separates its warriors from its scholars has its fighting done by idiots and its thinking done by cowards. I even agree, but damn, it's hard," I replied.

"You know," he said, "I'm still surprised at your choice of weapon and instructor."

Yes, many had raised that concern, I recalled. Most warrior kings favoured swords, but I considered that foolish. Swords were wonderful weapons against unarmoured targets or, in the case of a zweihänder, excellent support weapons, but if I ever entered combat, unlikely as it seemed, I would be beset by heavily armoured opponents. I would also not be fighting alone. As such, I had decided on the Lucerne hammer as my weapon of choice. If I ever found myself without comrades on the field, however, I would use a smaller, one-handed war hammer as a side-arm. I wouldn't have to worry about edge alignment, and my godly strength would prevent exhaustion from the heavier hammers.

My decision in terms of my main instructor had also raised eyebrows, especially in Elysium. Most had expected me to pick someone like Hercules or Achilles, but I had chosen Hector instead. Sure, Achilles had killed Hector, but he'd done so by cheating with the help of Ares and with his unfair advantage of being a demigod. Achilles may have been the stronger warrior, but Hector was the better warrior. I wanted the know-how and ability of a man who had nearly bested a demigod in single combat. I still shuddered at the notion of the day I would enter instruction under Shiva, and I felt that learning under Hector would prepare me best for it.

So, I laughed as I replied to Hannes. "Well, keep being surprised, then. I'm not changing my mind."

Not long afterwards. Strategic Information Centre, Hyperion's palace in the Underworld.

A short time later, I found myself in the SIC, discussing the current situation and our plans going forward, just as I had told Hannes. Currently, the topic of discussion was the southwestern front of the war, namely the happenings on the Rusalka line and the surroundings of Fort Merceus.

"It looks like Count Bergliez is putting on the pressure at the fort," said a woman. Her name was Helga Kramer. She'd fought, well, participated in the War of Cataclysm as a logistics officer with the rank of Colonel. Her death had occurred shortly after WMDs had been first used.

"Yes, it does look like that," came the agreement from beside her. The voice belonged to a man whose sentence in Tartarus had ended only a few months ago. His name was Nobunaga, the most ruthless and most infamous Lord of the Oda clan. "I'd say that a series of assaults is imminent. Their purpose will not be to capture the fort but to keep its defenders busy and restless until the actual attack comes."

I hummed in thought before asking, "Any guesses on how long it will take for Fort Merceus to fall?"

"Considering the skill of the defending and attacking generals, maybe one or two months," answered Nobunaga.

"Helga?" I asked.

"I can't say," she said. "I don't know much about the tactical capabilities of magical medieval armies. I just read the flow of supplies. That said, the flow points to a large operation in that timeframe."

I nodded. "Very well. What about the Rusalka line?"

The sound of shifting piles of paper was heard before Helga answered, "I'm seeing a hasty reorganisation of supplies. New weapons and cheap armour are coming together. I'd say Count Varley and Duke Aegir are panicking and equipping a levy to hold the line after most of their advance force was encircled and crushed. Crossing that river was a mistake, and now they have to wait for the main force to arrive. They won't like having to pull back the forces guarding the mountain passes into former Hevring territory, but they will have to lest loyalist forces advance beyond the Rusalka river."

"The other fronts are mostly on ice, literally in the case of Faerghus," added Nobunaga. "There are skirmishes on the Ochs-Arundel front, but nothing big yet."

"That's going to change," I said. "Hannes and I put together the battle reports and campaign analyses from the simulations. We project a very high probability of success for a winter offensive. I'll inform Baron Ochs tonight, so the offensive should start within the week."

Helga frowned. "It's very risky. The supply situation is one thing, but the soldiers will be freezing. Large armies will end up as a collection of icicles like that."

"Which is why there will be six small ones. Each will strike a town in Arundel territory where quarters are available. After a few days of rest, they'll go after the next series of targets," I countered.

"I know," she said, "But the big army stationed in Arundel's territorial capital will make that difficult."

Nobunaga piped in at that point. "Not if they have to split up as well," he said. "They'll either do that or move out and freeze to death. Or stay and wait for spring to come."

"At which point they will be surrounded," I finished. "Baron Ochs is a very crafty man. The plan was his idea to begin with, and he's got a lot of experience."

"In Dagda," said Helga. "That place used to be Iberia. It's hot there, especially with how… blown off-course it is these days."

I shook my head and pointed at the holographic globe in the room. "Look closely. Dagda is not just Iberia."

She took a look and scrunched up her eyebrows. "Huh? That wasn't there before. What is this elongated landmass?"

"I was confused too, initially," I said. "I knew that Iberia got displaced westward, and I'd read reports that Dagda stretches from the far south to the far north. Then, the sensors of Sothis' ship extended their reach and suddenly, this landmass appeared. Its shape seemed familiar to me, though, so I took a look at the archive. Lo and behold, the majority of Dagda's landmass is the Mid-Atlantic Ridge."

Helga paled. "The tectonic detonators raised the entire ridge?" she whispered. "I had no idea it was this bad."

I nodded grimly, but returned to the subject at hand. "What's relevant for this is that Baron Ochs was all over Dagda during the last war. He and his soldiers were in hot and cold territories, not just in the temperate regions of the capital. He knows what he's doing."

The woman still looked hesitant, but she nodded eventually. "Alright," she said.

With that done, I turned away from Helga and Nobunaga, directing my gaze at a trio of more long-dead military officers instead. They were Quintus Fabius the Delayer, Philip II of Macedon and Frederick the Great. All of them were experts in defensive warfare, and I had thought it best for them to devise tactics and strategies for the Alliance front. Shambhala could raise more troops than the Alliance, after all, and there was a dire need for commanders of their calibre. I considered them critical assets.

Philip was of interest as he had experience with making army reforms mid-war. Quintus was invaluable thanks to his talent for making an army of prideful glory hounds adopt asymmetric warfare. Frederick was just a beast on the battlefield, having won a defensive war on four fronts. They were a font of extremely valuable knowledge overall, and provided much of the strategies and plans I sometimes discussed with Judith.

"What are your thoughts on the Alliance front?" I asked them.

"Lady Judith definitely made the right decision," said Quintus. "We spotted an Agarthan host emerging from Shambhala shortly after the battle in Daphnel territory. Had the Alliance army split up to retake the lost territories, it would have been destroyed by now."

"While I usually take a more proactive approach than my… colleague, I concur," added Frederick.

Philip nodded in agreement. "We have come up with an action plan."

"Go on," I said with a hand gesture.

He nodded again and spoke, "The majority of the Alliance army will remain in a single place. Roughly 50'000 soldiers should be sufficient to draw the enemy force in. The rest will focus on harassing supply lines and uprooting their control of the already occupied territories. This will force the Agarthans to either attack the Alliance army or disperse to reinforce the occupation. Should they attack, Lady Judith will constantly retreat instead of giving battle, causing further disruption to enemy supply and organisation. Should they disperse, Lady Judith's force can take them apart piecemeal."

"Sounds good," I commented. "Countermeasures against enemy disruption efforts?" I asked.

Quintus was the one to answer this time. "The plan is for scouting parties of pegasus riders and hunting parties of wyvern riders to spot and intercept enemy saboteurs. Combined with the vast cavalry force, the disruption to allied supply lines should be minimal.

"That said, the plan could still go wrong if even more enemy troops appear," said Fredrick.

"Okay," I said, "Try to come up with countermeasures and contingencies. I loathe scorched earth tactics, but they might be necessary. Consider them as well, but don't forget to ensure the safety of the civilian population."

"It will be done, Your Majesty," said Fabius.

I nodded grimly. "Thank you. I leave the rest to you."

One hour later. Realm of Erebus.

I was in a place I had visited only sporadically in the months since Samhain. There were multiple reasons for that. For one, many things had kept me busy. There was also the potential to run into many an unprocessed soul and being held up by some petty dispute that was normally dealt with by one of my deputies. Alas, the biggest reason was that I felt unworthy in the presence of the group I had come to visit. That was not to say that I disliked them, but I still felt uncomfortable when meeting them.

It became pretty clear to me that they all knew very well that I felt that way. From what I gathered, they had been trying to figure out why that was. There was a sense of apprehension in me at the thought. They would know soon enough, I supposed. I had decided that I would tell them today. Hopefully, they would accept my explanation.

"Hey there," I said to the twenty dragons in front of me.

Snorts and chortles were what answered me. "It's incredibly amusing that your greetings are still as awkward as the first few times," said Hekset.

"I can't be original every time, and just saying 'hello' sounds a bit too impersonal," I retorted.

The dragon laughed. "Whatever makes you sleep at night."

I shook my head. "I guess that's part of why I'm here," I said.

Hekset and the others, who had laughed as well, grew still. Arcturus broke that new silence when he asked, "Will you finally tell us why you're always on edge when you come to visit us?"

"Yes," I replied with a sigh. "It's about Sothis and I… and about all of you."

Frowns spread, if dragons could frown, that was. None said anything, though. They were not very talkative, with the exception of Hekset, Arcturus and, sometimes, Hamestra. It took a bit of time for the former to ask for clarification.

"Explain," said Hekset plainly.

I took a moment to gather my thoughts before I replied. "You all probably know by now that your mother and I are together; as in romantically involved. Erebus and Nyx have informed you, right?" At the nods I received in return, I continued, "I guess it's that that makes this awkward for me. You're all so much older than I am, and you're her family. I really want to get along with all of you, but Seiros isn't taking it well. There is every chance that you won't either and… Well, call me a coward, but I don't want to face the prospect of being at odds with the family of the woman I love. If things go well, you will be my family as well, so that's another factor."

"Seiros isn't us and we are not Seiros," said Arcturus vehemently. "We're all dead, but out of all of us, she has suffered the most. She was always a bit fixated on Mother, but losing her has made that fixation an exceedingly unhealthy obsession. It has coloured her worldview accordingly, even if she's healing right now. Contrary to her, we do not fear you stealing Mother from us. If she has decided that you are worthy of her affections, we have no room to object."

"You're… alright with me and Sothis being together?" I asked.

There were a few coughs and chuckles among the dragons before Hekset spoke, "It would be very hypocritical of us. Mother was always fine with us dating, bedding and marrying humans to propagate our bloodlines, so long as they were there of their own free will. Why should we be against her loving a former human? I think I speak for all of us when I say that we're looking forward to the day you will join our family."

A heavy weight dropped from my heart as I heard that. I sagged in relief and released a bout of air I hadn't noticed holding. "Thank you," I said.

I made a few steps forward and raised my right hand a bit. "May I?" I asked.

It took Arcturus a moment to understand what I'd asked, but he realised soon enough. He nodded and lowered his head. I reached forward with an unsteady arm, swallowing thickly as I did so, and eventually placed my hand in the spot he liked the most according to Sothis' memory. He seemed to appreciate the gesture and sighed contently.

"Thank you," I repeated my earlier words. "Thank you for giving me a chance to have a family again."

"What about your own kin?" asked Hamestra. "You must have them."

"I'm from another world," I said. "While the afterlives of all worlds are connected, it takes time, skill and effort to find a specific world. Ananke is working hard to find the world I originate from, but it's slow progress. Besides, most of my family is still alive. I wouldn't be able to meet them until I have a corporeal form in the realms of the living or until they die, which I hope won't happen for many years."

Again, the dragons frowned as much as their features allowed. They put their heads together and whispered among each other. It seemed that they quickly reached a sort of consensus since I saw them all nodding. Their heads turned back to me, looking at me intently. I just stared back in confusion. That confusion was heightened when they moved and started forming a circle around me.

"Then," began Arcturus, "Until that day, and hopefully many thereafter, we shall be your family, if you will have us."

As one, the all stretched their necks out, and gently brushed their heads against mine one after another. I was overwhelmed. Not even in my wildest dream had I expected to be accepted by them so quickly and so intimately. They were welcoming me to their family as if it were a foregone conclusion that Sothis and I would never part, that everything would be fine and that we would all get along eventually.

Beginning to tear up, I said, "There are no words to express my gratitude. I'd love to be part of your family. But why?"

"Because you make Mother happy. And so, it is decided!" said Arcturus, who continued with archaic language as though this were some kind of ceremony. "From this day onward, we are as kin."

"Kin!" shouted the others, nearly bursting my eardrums on accident.

"Before we celebrate," said Hamestra, "There's one thing that's piqued my curiosity."

I made a gesture for her to continue, to which she complied.

"You said something about attaining a corporeal form, right? What did you mean by that?" She asked.

"Ah," I replied, "It's just a thought that occurred to me the last time I worked on Sothis' resurrection ritual. Since it's not an actual resurrection, there might be… side effects."

"And those will lead to you gaining a body?" she asked.

I answered, "Possibly. See, resurrection only works when the subject of the ritual is actually dead, which Sothis isn't. She's simply 'mostly' dead, but not fully. Instead, the ritual I've designed together with a team of experts will lead her back up the existential ladder to the conceptual stage, at which point she will essentially recreate herself and re-instantiate into a fully functional body. Her re-instantiation might, by proximity, cause me to instantiate as well. I'm not quite sure if it'll work like that, but there's a good chance."

Arcturus blinked at me owlishly. He turned his head to look at the magic expert among his siblings. "Seshamil, did you understand any of that?"

The dragon in question first looked startled at being addressed and then swiftly switched to pensive. "Not quite everything, but I can find out. It sounds fascinating."

"Feel free to come ask Erebus to have someone bring you research material from the library complex," I said.

Seshamil nodded with a content expression.

"Since that's over, let's get back to where we were before," said Hekset. "Let's celebrate!"

2nd day of the Pegasus Moon 1180. Arundel territory.

Monica had never been gladder to have access to mages than now. The initial plan seemed to come apart at the seams, and they would likely be the only saving grace she had. She and her troops had walked right into a trap set by the enemy when she'd taken the town assigned to her. It appeared that someone had leaked the plan to the enemy forces, which mean that she was no besieged by a sizeable contingent of Arundel troops. Fortunately, the Church of Seiros had taken notice of the enemy movement and managed to warp in a few hundred members of their new Mage Corps as reinforcements. Their advanced training and powerful spells had given her enough time to get her soldiers ready for a defence.

The young heiress to the House of Ochs now held a war council with her most important officers. Her master of horse, Martin by name, sat at her right side. Giada, her mistress of foot, was to her left. Across from her sat Alfred, her scout commander and master of air, as well as Johanna, the commander of the battalion sent by the Mage Corps.

Alfred was the first to speak, having been prompted by a gesture from Monica. "We're surrounded. The enemy force must number at around 20'000, perhaps slightly fewer. They roughly outnumber us by a factor of four. They also seem to have a lot of winter gear. We can assume that the other task forces are also beset by similar numbers."

"That is not the case," said Johanna. "I've already asked High Command. They say that no such movements have taken place. It appears that all readily available winter gear has been provided to the army besieging us. The enemy's objective is likely to capture Lady Monica."

That prompted a grimace from the young noble. She'd made quite enough experiences with being captured. She asked, "Has High Command said anything else? Can we expect reinforcements?"

Johanna answered, "Reinforcements are being mobilised, but they won't arrive for a week, most likely. The only reason why my battalion could be here so fast is because we're the rapid response force. That said, we've been authorised to use anything up to class-2 experimental spells."

Giada, who was in command of most mages in Monica's force, spoke up. "I'm unaware of such classifications. What does class-2 mean?"

The other woman inclined her head. "The system of classification is new. Class-1 spells have no offensive or defensive capabilities and have no use on the battlefield beyond utility. Class-2 spells have offensive capabilities limited to individual targets and small groups only, but they can be used for defence and large-scale utility. Class-3 spells have offensive or defensive capabilities employed against entire companies. Class-4 spells affect large portions of the battlefield, either offensively or defensively. Class-5 is reserved for spells that can devastate entire armies and those that are heavily restricted, if not outright forbidden. For reference, the Gauss spell Sir Byleth Eisner used during the liberation of Nuvelle is a class-3 spell."

"That makes class-2 spells sound rather underwhelming," said Martin with a frown.

Johanna shook her head. "The battalion is capable of and authorised to employ class-4 spells, such as Resonant Lightning and even Resonant Bolting. I was referring to class-2 experimental spells."

"What's the difference?" asked Monica.

"My Lady, the difference is the danger of unpredictable complications," said Johanna. "A few weeks ago, one of our trainees ignored safety regulations and used an experimental class-1 housekeeping spell meant to clean a butcher's shop without the proper safeguards. He ended up stripping his bones of all flesh and tendons, nearly dying an agonising death in the process. Fortunately, he was saved by a group of vigilant monks."

"Ew," said Monica in disgust. She went on regardless. "That is… unpleasant. Are there any spells in that category that would be useful to us in the current situation?"

Hesitantly, the Church woman nodded. "Yes. There is one spell. We are reluctant to use it, however. Dark Magic is rather discomforting for us. Still, it might be our only hope of victory."

"What is it designed for?" asked Monica. "I don't like Dark Magic any more than you do, but it is a powerful branch of magic, and depending on what it is, it could be useful."

"Yes, my Lady. It is very useful if it works like we want it to. The spell's name is Decay. It targets unliving and unenchanted organic substances. If hit, those substances lose their structure and, well, decay," explained Johanna. "It is intended to be used on supplies."

Monica looked at the others to gauge their opinions on the subject. Her gaze turned back to Johanna and said, "If it targets the enemy supplies, we can get them to leave before they have a chance to overwhelm us. What do you need to use it effectively?"

"We will need a big distraction, such as sortie from our forces. Most of the battalion will help, of course. Splinter units can then get behind the enemy and unleash the spell on as many supplies and enemy soldiers as possible," said Johanna.

"Why would you target the enemy soldiers as well?" asked Martin.

"Ah," replied Johanna, "Some of them might be carrying provisions. Our goal is to deprive them of as many of those as we can."

Monica sighed. "It's not the best plan, but it's all we have. The enemy will crush us within a few days if we don't do anything. We will go along with it. To that end, we make a sortie at nightfall. We'll make it look like a break-out attempt."

The others nodded. "I'll immediately prepare my troops for the assault. You're aware that most won't make it back, right? This is going to be costly," remarked Martin.

A solemn nod from the young red-haired woman preluded her answer. "I'm aware. Giada and Albert will run as much interference as they can."

"We shall as well," said Johanna. "You risk your men and woman for our plan. We won't let them get slaughtered."

"Let's get to it, then," said Monica with heavy heart.

Hours later, nightfall. South side of the town.

The time for the plan had come. First, the relative silence of the evening was broken as trumpets sounded. They were followed by the thunderous noises caused by the impact of potent lighting magic, which crashed into the encroaching Arundel forces. Then, the trumpets sounded again, and Monica's cavalry surged forward to engage the enemy. Battle was joined.

The young noblewoman was in the forefront of it all. Even if the enemy had not come with the main goal of capturing her, she made too tempting a target to ignore. She charged into battle, therefore, and made sure that she was plenty noticeable. If she ended up getting rid of a bunch of enemy soldiers in the process, then that was just a nice bonus. After all, the objective of the attack was to cause a distraction. She only hoped it would be big enough for Johanna's troops to slip through.

Reflecting her hopes was Leon, one of the splinter group commanders. As he and his black-clad unit snuck through the clashing rows of soldiers, he prayed to the Goddess and Lord of the Dead that they would succeed in their task. It was clear to everyone that their chances at winning this battle were low, and that their only hope for victory was this mad plan. At least the unit's members were determined to see it through.

Even with the cavalry push, however, Leon's unit would have been far too noticeable if not for the few pegasus and wyvern riders of the scout battalion. The descended on the enemy in a fast charge and caused severe disruptions to the Arundel lines. It was in this chaos that Leon and his soldiers pushed their way through the enemy forces. They had to hurry since the scout battalion would not be able to maintain their distraction for longer than a minute or two at best, but it would be enough time to slip through.

Five harrowing minutes later, they had made it. It had come at great cost, however, as about half of the flyers in Lady Monica's army had perished to facilitate this success. Now it was on the splinter group to fulfil their task. Leon had no idea how many other splinter groups had made it out, so he had to follow the plan and raid as much of the enemy camp as possible with just his unit. It was a daunting task, but many lives had been paid to see this happen. He would not let the deaths of the loyalist soldiers be in vain.

The splinter group under his command continued to sneak away from the sounds of battle. While it tore at them to leave their comrades behind, their mission was more important. The tension of it made them increase their pace, and they made good time for the enemy camp. They had to, since the army it belonged to would return soon enough. Lady Monica would not be able to keep them occupied for long without incurring untenable losses.

Once they had neared their destination, the unit stopped at Leon's raised hand. He took time to look at the camp and devise the most optimal route through it. If they were caught, the best they could do was cause as much damage as possible. Fortunately, planning said route was not too difficult. The camp was very hurriedly put together and exposed great weaknesses. While there seemed to be quite a few guards, they appeared to not really patrol the camp that well. The raid would do much damage, Leon surmised.

"We're going in," he said.

He and his soldiers rushed at the camp, attempting to sneak past the inattentive guards. Despite the shoddy layout, however, such a thing was not possible. As such, one of his soldiers cast a silencing spell and nodded at the others to do their part. They then launched their own spells at the guards, lethal ones this time. The two were shredded before they could so much as shout, and thanks to the silencing spell, nothing could be heard of the spell impacts either. With them done in, Leon's unit could advance unhindered.

From there on, they made their way through the multitude of tents, checking as many as they could for supplies to destroy or steal. It did not take them too long to reach one of the dedicated supply tents, seeing as they were clearly visible and easy to distinguish. They then set to the task of destroying said supplies. The Decay spell worked wonders on food, wood and coal, as well as the furs and linen of the tent itself. As an unfortunate side effect of this, the tent collapsed, causing a commotion in the process. It wouldn't be long before they were discovered.

"Shit!" cursed Leon, "Forget subtlety. We rush through the camp, straight for any supply tents. We'll take down as many as we can before we get caught."

With that, they ran. Shouts rose from all around them. Drums and bells alerted the whole camp that there were intruders. Horns answered them as the main army returned from the engagement with Lady Monica's forces. The whole host now seemingly pursued Leon's splinter group. The clanking of armour was now clearly audible, heralding the imminent arrival of the Arundel soldiers.

Flashes of light and explosions soon erupted around the camp. Leon was startled to realise that his was not the only splinter group to have made it to the camp. Taking heart, he and his soldiers pressed on. They flung their own spells, as powerful and destructive as they were capable of. The cover had already been broken, after all. They would continue their mission and cause as much damage as they could. Battle cries issued forth from their throats while they ran towards the centre of the camp.

On and on they ran. They unleashed their magic on whomever stood in their way and set fire to any and all supply tents they could find, but even with all their vigour and motivation, they could not fight on forever. That much became clear when they reached what they assumed was the camp's command tent. Wracked with exhaustion and breathing hard, they noticed that they were about to be surrounded.

Before the enemy arrived, however, allies came. Two other splinter groups arrived. They looked exhausted as well. It appeared that all of them were ready to drop at any point, but determination and iron will kept them standing. The Church soldiers eyed each other and easily determined what their current situation meant.

"Looks like this is the end of the line for us," said Leon.

"So it would seem," answered one of the others. "Wanna make them pay for it?"

Leon grinned. "Hell yes," he answered. "Resonant Decay?"

The other soldier grinned as well. "It's untested, but fuck it. We're dead anyway."

"Lads and lasses, gather round! Prepare for Resonant Decay! It's been an honour serving with you," shouted Leon.

Shouts from the other Church soldiers answered him. They assembled in a circular formation as was normal for Resonant spells. Their expressions ranged from grim acceptance to nervousness and excitement. None were hesitating or backing down, however. This was their last hurrah, and they would pour their all into it. Magic began circulating between them as they summoned all of their remaining strength. Just as the Arundel soldiers began to burst into the large tent where the Church soldiers had gathered, the spell was unleashed.

A dark wave swept through the whole camp. Many Arundel soldiers covered their eyes and prepared for pain that never came. After a few moments, they all started to feel cold; much colder than usual. As they opened their eyes, they were greeted with the sight of thousands of half-naked soldiers wearing only the metal components of their armour and an empty field where there had been a whole camp only minutes before. And in the middle of it all lay the desiccated and lifeless husks of over forty Church soldiers.

Dread swept through the Arundel forces. Their food, tents and clothes were gone bar those that were enchanted. Only metal remained, be it on their armours or their weapons. Their combat effectiveness was crippled as only mages could now use their full might. Much worse than that, however, was the fact that it was the middle of winter. Most of them would be dead by morning if they couldn't find warmth. There was no choice but to assault the Ochs forces, who were now in a position of advantage. They had no illusions of victory, but they had to try.

By morning, most of them were indeed dead.

AN: Greetings, dear readers!

I hope you've enjoyed today's chapter as much as I enjoyed writing it. This time, the focus lay heavily on Hyperion, but there was also quite a bit going on otherwise. Lysithea and Edelgard might find themselves with a fully restored life soon. Hyperion has finally decided to confront some of his own issues with Sothis' family and his own insecurity. The war also continues to rage, and not every front is progressing well. Plus, even if you have all the data, you can miss something, as Monica found out, much to her detriment.

Now then, I've become aware that this story has passed another milestone. It has managed to land in the favourites list over 500 people. This is a huge thing for me, and I want to give my sincere thanks to everyone has supported this story with their favourites, follows and reviews. You guys are great, and I'm happy that you like reading my work.

As for the recommended story of this chapter, I present to you Mass Effect: A Very Terran (Re)solution by NihilMomentum. It's a very meta take on the Self-Insert sub-genre that nonetheless manages to take itself seriously and avoids many of the by now very exhausting tropes that normally follow such stories. Give it a read.