AN: Guest Review response time:

Guest from the 8th of March: Well, it's more of an AU than a crossover. When I began writing this, Three Houses was the only Fire Emblem game I'd ever played, so I played around more with the direct references to real world mythology than the greater Fire Emblem multiverse. So, while I don't really understand much of what your suggestions entail, I can see that you put quite a bit of thought into them. As such, while I won't use them, I thank you very much for putting in the effort to make them.

Guest from the 9th of March: Well, Edelgard is on the tail end of puberty, so it wouldn't surprise me, but I think those two have enough restraint and sense not to go that far yet, especially not while on deployment. Doesn't mean she's not thinking of it though.

Chapter 49: Of Light and Traps

13th day of the Garland Moon 1181. Shambhala, hideout near the catacombs.

Kronya awoke that morning with a new purpose, and so did her teammates. With the exception of Anselma, all of them had accepted the offer to become psychopomps. Coming with their new position was a set of responsibilities and abilities that would not only further their cause in Shambhala but also do much to right the wrongs they had witnessed the day before. This resulted in heightened vigour for the four Agarthans and, by proxy, for Anselma as well.

That vigour was about to be put to use. For this purpose, they had gathered a few members of their newly established group of government critics. They were there as witnesses to establish that the promises of change and divine favour were not just empty words. That, and a display of power and compassion never hurt when trying to get a movement going.

"We talked with Lord Hyperion last night. He finds the current state of Shambhala appalling and in dire need of correction. In order to start with that process, he has given four us the ability to lay the dead to rest," announced Kronya to those who had gathered here. She used a more formal tone than normal due to the official nature of the occasion.

"Why not everyone?" asked a young man.

"I have declined his offer," answered Anselma. "Every power has a price. Sometimes, that price is steeper than one is willing to pay. In this case, the ability to grant eternal rest to lost souls costs you your own eternal rest. I also refuse to outlive my daughter, so I declined."

"Immortality is not a blessing," pointed out Nadia. "Life is full of suffering and hardship."

"Let's get to the point. We've got ghosts to pacify," interrupted Philip, breaking with the formal tone.

Nikola agreed. "Indeed. We might need some time to figure out how the power our Lord gave us even works."

Kronya nodded and closed her eyes. She ignored the scrutinising gazes the members of the nascent revolutionary movement sent her way and focussed inward. She felt for her own magic, enlivened by Hyperion's gift of sunlight. Following the trail, she searched further until she found the comfortable coolness she had come to associate with the young God's death-based powers. She brought that feeling to the fore and opened her eyes.

When she looked down, she noted that a reddish-black, smoke-like shadow had engulfed her form. The cool feeling that came with this power suffused her entire body. The same was also happening to the other Agarthan members of Hyperion's clergy. However, unlike them, she also had a sphere of sunlight floating above her.

Suddenly, she could hear voices. They were barely audible, but it was clear that they were screaming. She had no idea whether it was from pain or rage, maybe even both. What she did know, however, was that those voices carried a certain ethereal quality. There was no doubt in her mind that they belonged to the ghosts who haunted the pit.

"Come," she said, trying to call the ghosts. When nothing happened, she directed Hyperion's power to her vocal cords and tried again, "Come, lost souls. The Lord of the Dead calls you home."

This time, something was different. Her second call had been raspy and skull-rattling. This feeling intensified when the others joined in.

"Come," they called in the same raspy tone.

Eerie sounds then started to be heard around the room. They grew louder and louder, and even those without psychopomp abilities could now hear them, which unsettled those spectators to a great degree. The clamour kept increasing regardless of their unease, however.

Then, much to their horror, the ghosts started manifesting, becoming visible to the naked eye. Many of them bore the horrific injuries that had killed them. All of them wore expression of anger and exuded an aura of malice. Yet they were not hostile.

Taking a deep breath as she beheld the scene, Kronya said, "We've come to give you peace. Leave the suffering of the mortal world behind. Enter the embrace of Hyperion and Sothis, who watch over the dead and the living alike. Let your burdens fall away as you receive your eternal rest in their care."

She had no idea if there was a formal process to this. It was possible that she was laying it on a bit thick, especially given that Sothis was not well-liked among her people. Nevertheless, she respected her Lord and Lady deeply, even though it had taken her quite some time to develop proper reverence for the latter. Besides, it would not do to neglect her Lord's beloved.

Ignoring the complicated feelings coursing through her at that thought, she moved on.

"Will you accept this mercy?" she asked the ghosts.

One of them slowly approached her. The ghost then lifted its hand and cautiously touched the wispy cloak of shadows on her body. The shadow immediately responded and crept over the ghost. Its expression was one of surprise, but it soon shifted to one of contentment. The injuries dotting its spectral body disappeared in the blink of an eye. Then, its form collapsed into the shadow, and all it left behind was a whisper.

"Thank you," were the ghost's last words.

That opened the floodgates. The ghosts rushed towards the clergy of Hyperion. They leapt at the shadows that cloaked them, disappearing within seconds. In their bid to reach their rightful place in the afterlife, the ghosts came in groups, touching the psychopomps in dozens at a time. This created a sort of spectral deluge headed for the four Agarthans at the centre of the room.

As this happened, the oppressive atmosphere lightened. The almost tangible aura of rage and despair gave way to relief, tough a thrumming remnant of something stayed behind. Only much later would the fledgling psychopomps realise that their own powers were strengthened by the purified remnants of the magic that had previously tied the ghosts to the mortal coil. For now, the noticeable effect of the process was a sense of comfort.

This coincided with the growing luminosity of the sphere of light above Kronya's head. The stronger it shone the more intensely the sense of relief spread. It was accompanied by feelings of hope and contentment, which later would come to be known as emanating from Hyperion, who was pleased by the pacification of the ghosts. The light itself also did much to rouse the continued wonder of those who had never seen it before Kronya's demonstration. It had an enthralling quality of its own to those who had grown up without the sun.

It was thus that the first roots of the Cult of Hyperion came to be. Much as it would come to chagrin the subject of its worship, it would also prove to be highly effective in its objective. And so, the First Great Pacification, as it would later be called in the history books, marked the beginning of the offensive at the Agarthan home front.

The same day. Gloucester territory.

On another front, another offensive was about to take place. Lorenz had prepared it meticulously; his pride and his strategic knowledge both demanded nothing less. Soldiers, weapons, supplies and provisions had all been prepared as well as the current state of the Alliance and the availability of resources allowed. The host had broken camp in record time as well, and it was now on the move to make the first strike.

For this reason, he had gathered the remaining strength of House Gloucester. A few thousand soldiers and four dozen knights were all that was left, but they made up the core of his army. While it was bolstered by a number of Alliance soldiers that outnumbered his own troops by a significant margin, Lorenz still considered it a Gloucester army. As such, he had also named one of his House's trusted retainers as his second-in-command.

"Is this wise, my Count?" asked Sir Humboldt, the retainer in question.

Being a minor noble's son, he followed proper protocol in his address. High nobles were only addressed as "my Lord/Lady" by minor nobles when the high nobles wished to indicate that the differences in their rank did not matter. When showing proper deference, a lesser noble had to address the high noble by their title. Heirs and members of the titled noble's family would be addressed with their given name, but that was not the case here.

"Is what wise?" asked Lorenz back, "That we are participating in this offensive or that we are leading it?"

Sir Humboldt wore a troubled expression as he replied, "Both, my Count. It is incredibly risky to attack without support. I do not understand the rationale behind holding back assets."

Lorenz hummed as he thought for a moment. "Very well. Now that we're far enough away from prying ears, I shall tell you," he said eventually. "In essence, we are bait. We must appear to be cocky, an image that is reinforced by my… less than stellar conduct in the beginning of my time at Garreg Mach. Lady Judith's delayed support will make it seem like we are pushing forward without orders. We must appear disjointed and overconfident, but strong enough to warrant calling for reinforcements to hold against us."

"I see," said Sir Humboldt, "Which means that once the enemy has begun moving troops northward, the majority of the Alliance's armed forces will attack the weakened enemy armies in the south."

"Correct," said Lorenz. "The ruse will benefit from my genuine anger."

Sir Humboldt's eyebrows rose. "Anger, my Count?"

Lorenz grimaced as he answered, "My father has sullied the reputation of House Gloucester, so I am eager to demonstrate that the name still holds honour. But aside from that, I have received very disturbing news." A dangerous edge entered his voice then as he continued, "I fear there will not be much of a citizenry left to liberate. Our enemies are more despicable than I had previously anticipated. Those of our people who yet live must be rescued with all haste."

Voice and gaze hard as steel, Sir Humboldt acknowledged the statement. "Understood. We shall not hesitate."

"Yes," said Lorenz, "We shall deceive the enemy into believing us blinded by rage. Once they fall into the trap, we will crush them and make them pay for their crimes."

The man beside him nodded silently as they rode on. There was not much more to say on the topic. The few things that could be added were not the sort of matter Lorenz wanted to share. Operational security was important, after all. So, they proceeded in silence.

That was not to say that Lorenz was not in deep thought. In fact, he was very much busy going over his plans to fulfil the operational objectives set before him. Aggression was going to be the name of the game, but carelessness would bring about ruin. As such, he had to carefully plan the best route to hit all the targets of his offensive in a timely manner.

He had already communicated to Judith that he would first head southwest from Gloucester territory's regional capital along the Oghma mountain range to widen the pincer. He would continue this advance until he reached the Airmid river. From there, he would unite with Judith's host, which would head directly south from the regional capital, and complete the pincer by surrounding the Great Bridge of Myrddin.

The problem lay with the additional time he would need to cover the distance as compared to Judith. It was also likely that the plan would have to be scrapped halfway through due to enemy response. Planning for this was substantially more difficult.

The solution this led him to was not one he liked, but it was the best he could do. He would have to split the army in two. The slower infantry would go the long way, while the smaller but substantially faster cavalry would make incursions into enemy-held territories alongside Judith's forces. This would allow him to have a force ready to quickly respond to enemy counterattacks on either side of Gloucester territory.

Naturally, he could have asked for reinforcements, though he had a feeling that such requests would have been denied. The Alliance had lost a substantial number of troops already and suffered great damage to its industry and population. Outfitting more troops was going to be exceedingly difficult, and all the currently extant forces were likely already assigned to their own parts of the main offensive.

That thought had occurred to him quite a while ago. It had happened when Marianne and Hilda, whose troops had until then supported him and Judith, had suddenly packed up and left. He'd been handed a blank roll of paper with a black ribbon attached to it. He was thus fairly sure that the two young women had received a secret deployment order he was not supposed to know about. Considering that they had been the only reserves available on the northern part of the Alliance front, it must have been for something big.

19th day of the Garland Moon 1181. Army camp north of Derdriu.

There was a part to Operation Maw Claude had elected not to share with his war council. Spies could be everywhere, after all, and he did not want the besieging army to have a defence ready for what was coming. It was essentially another back-up plan he had come up with before the last meeting of the war council; one with which he wished to avoid having to use the last resort. The form this back-up plan took was Marianne and Hilda.

Both of them had been notified over a week ago that they would be needed, but new information had made them speed up. The Goddess and the one she called her beloved had informed both them and Claude about the disguise field Agarthan mages had deployed several days ago during the last battle in Faerghus. Since then, mages moving in the same patterns had been spotted heading towards Derdriu. The two deities had originally assumed them to be a supply unit, but after the existence of the disguise field had been discovered, that guess had been put on shaky ground. This had led Hilda and Marianne to order a forced march so the siege of the capital could be broken before the disguised force's arrival.

Thankfully, once they had arrived north of Derdriu, they had been given the order to rest out of sight of the enemy. Claude wanted their troops rested for the big attack.

Acting upon that assumption, the two commanders of the relief army had posted sentries and ordered the majority of the soldiers to rest and go to bed in the early evening. The exhausted men and women of their force were all too eager to follow that order, and most of them were asleep before the sun had even fully gone down.

Still, others deigned to rest and relax in different ways before sleep claimed them. Among them were the two aforementioned commanders. While they were both in the furs that functioned as their camp bedding, they were not ready to sink into the blissful embrace of sleep just yet.

"Hilda," said Marianne.

"Hm?"

"I love you."

Hilda was surprised to hear those words. For all that they'd started a relationship, Marianne was very hesitant to say what she felt. Hilda knew that Marianne didn't want to force her into replying in kind. It was considerate and sweet, and Hilda felt bad for making her girlfriend wait for her answer. That Marianne was now saying those three words despite this spoke of worry.

So, Hilda turned towards her and gave her a kiss. "I love you too," she said, and found herself pleasantly surprised that she felt so sure about it. Her affection had grown without her realising.

The smile on Marianne's face melted her heart. "I'm so happy to hear you say that."

Hilda smiled back and kissed her again. "I'm happy to say it."

The mood then turned a bit more sombre as Marianne said, "I'm worried about tomorrow. It's going to be a big battle."

"The one north of Castle Goneril was bigger," said Hilda with a frown.

"But it wasn't a trench battle," countered Marianne. She pulled Hilda towards her and hugged her closely. "I want you to promise to me that you'll be careful and that you'll come back to me."

Hilda returned the gesture, wrapping her arms around Marianne. "I promise," she replied, "And the same goes for you. Don't get hurt."

"I won't," said Marianne.

"Good. Now let's sleep. It's going to be a long day tomorrow."

The next day, dawn. Surroundings of Derdriu.

"We're in position," came Marianne's voice from the small magic circle on Claude's ear.

She wasn't quite as proficient at the message spell as she would have liked, but the distance between her forces and Claude's position was easily covered by her spell range.

"Good," said Claude, "I'm ready to sally out. Launch your attack in fifteen minutes."

"Understood," replied Marianne, "Take care. Hilda says that she's not going to do your work if you die."

Claude laughed. Really, that girl never changed, he thought. "Tell her she doesn't have to worry. I've got an ace up my sleeve. I'll meet you on the battlefield."

He then dismissed the spell and directed his attention at the white wyvern in front of him. He mounted it and looked at the horn bearer of his personal guard unit.

"Blow the horn. We're sallying."

The horn was sounded, and dozens more followed it. The wyverns took off at their riders' urging. At the same time, the city gate was opened, and the cavalry passed through it rapidly. The city's garrison force was finally launching a supporting attack to take the pressure off the beleaguered infantry in the trenches.

Said infantry quickly moved to lower the makeshift drawbridges that allowed the cavalry to pass over the trenches without problems. The cavalry thus moved forward, unbothered by the fighting below them. As such, they were quick to reach the troops the enemy was holding in reserve to join the trench fighting later.

The flying troops were not idle either. They quickly advanced towards the demonic beasts, the Titanus machines and the mages in the Agarthan host. Not only were they a priority target, but the attack on them also supported the ruse concerning the towers. Not to mention that it allowed whomever was leading the enemy army to think that the main body of their army was free to move and respond.

Claude maintained this illusion by swooping down every now and again to run interference with the enemy's main force. He did not achieve much in the grand scheme of things, or so it seemed, but he did manage to snipe one or two high-ranking officers near the trenches.

The enemy acted as Claude had hoped, and deployed their units to shoot down the airborne forces of the Alliance. Their archers and wind mages segregated themselves from their melee force in order to come closer to the wyverns that were attacking their heavy support. And that was when the trap snapped shut on them.

Announced by the blast of a dozen horns, Marianne and Hilda's troops emerged from their hiding place and attacked the exposed archers and mages in a swift strike. The multitude of melee fighters Hilda had at her disposal made short work of the archers while Marianne's personal guard kept the mages busy. Their subordinate officers mostly followed Hilda's lead in hacking the enemy to pieces. The impact of the attack was devastating to the troops that had been hit by it.

While the momentum was great, it wouldn't last forever. As the advance slowed down, the forward elements were beset by increasingly heavy bombardment by the backline of Agarthan mages. Thankfully, the Alliance's own mages shielded their comrades to a great degree, but such a defence was not sustainable for long. It did not have to be, however.

Claude had deliberately let the enemy centre approach the trenches. He had shifted from attacking the demonic beasts to picking off enemy support like their healers and transport mages. Naturally, this meant that the enemy had an open line of attack on the flimsy trench towers, from which archers had been shooting at the attackers.

Now that demonic beasts and Titanus war machines were closing in, however, the archers quickly abandoned the towers. Not all of them made it, but most managed to get out of them before they were destroyed by powerful attacks. It was a setback for the defence, or so it seemed, and it laid the way for more infantry support to stream into the trenches.

The renewed strength of the assault caused the Alliance forces to fall back. They abandoned the outermost trenches, retreating back towards the city. The embittered defence did little to stop the Agarthan advance initially, but the attackers were made to pay dearly for every metre of ground they managed to take. Eventually, the push began to slow down, however.

As he watched the enemy infantry push back the city's defenders, Claude decided to let his next trap fall shut. He strapped the bow he had been using up to this point to his Wyvern's saddle and exchanged it for a weapon made of bone and sinew. Failnaught glowed green with the power of the Nabatean it had originally belonged to and whom Claude had befriended, and he shot an arrow at one of the Titanus machines. His target was obliterated in an instant as a result, and the signal was given.

The eventual retaliation proved entirely ineffective due to the effects of the Fallen Star combat art he had used. With the lingering effects of the attack's innate magic, he was free to observe the consequences of his action for a few seconds.

As soon as the war machine had fallen, movement in the ruined towers became noticeable. Alliance soldiers had hidden in tunnels built beneath the towers and were now emerged from them. They attacked the Agarthan infantry from behind, encircling the enemy as a result. At the same time, the Alliance forces closer to the city mounted a counterattack to lay even more pressure on their adversaries.

To protect the troops elements deployed from the towers' bases, Marianne quickly moved to put herself between the trenches and the enemy main force.

"Rhaaagh!" she shouted in exertion as she summoned enormous magical power from within herself. The magic circle formed in an instant, and from it she launched one of her most powerful spells: Fimbulvetr. A veritable glacier dropped on the demonic beast she had been aiming for. The spell instantly crushed it.

By the time it had regenerated, it was already under attack again. Marianne had launched another spell. Instead of ice, however, the beast was beset by a rising pillar of green light. It was now disoriented, and thus nothing but prey.

Marianne was in front of the beast before it could reorient itself. Blutgang was in her hand, glowing green as she slashed at the deformed parody of a dragon. Similarly to how Failnaught had destroyed a Titanus machine before, the demonic beast was sliced to pieces, never to regenerate.

Barely a handful of seconds had passed since she'd begun her assault, and she was already approaching the next beast with her glowing sword. Her blood-soaked figure was both imposing and terrifying to those who beheld it, and few dared approach her, especially since her unit had now caught up to her. The swathe of destruction she was now cutting through the Agarthan lines was a sight to behold.

The downside of this movement was that it had left Hilda's troops exposed to bombardment from the enemy mages. She was now at risk of being pushed back, though she knew that she couldn't afford to. The weapon she bore would hopefully buy her enough time for support to arrive.

She swung Freikugel, a green glow enveloping the weapon as she did so. When it hit an enemy soldier, it split the unfortunate man in two, and an ethereal flame hot out from the axe. It enveloped many of the nearby Agarthans, sapping their strength and leaving them weak to continued attacks.

While this did nothing to slow the enemy bombardment, it prevented their close combat troops from overwhelming Hilda's position. It was not a permanent solution by any means, but it had done its work. The bombardment of the enemy mages stopped.

The reason for this was a sneaky move pulled by Nader. While the commander of the Almyran forces preferred riding a wyvern – something both he and Claude hoped the Agarthans would expect him to do – he was also proficient at riding a horse. Making use of this talent, he had taken charge of a few hundred horsemen and -women and had ridden through the battlefield. He had avoided engagements wherever possible to loop around the enemy. This manoeuvre had now brought him directly to the mages bombarding Hilda's troops.

"Ride them down! Trample them! Show them the might of Almyra!" he yelled at the top of his lungs.

His soldiers were eager to follow that order. They smashed into the ill-prepared lines of the Agarthan mages. Over a hundred were already dead by the time they could mount any sort of resistance. It availed them little due to the ferocity and speed of the Almyran attack. While Nader's troops sustained a few dozen casualties, their adversaries were dropping like flies, causing a rout in the process.

Barely an hour into the battle, it was already clear that the siege of Derdriu would end in failure. The foremost troop elements were effectively encircled and would be crushed in short order. The northern flank was collapsing under the weight of Hilda's assault and Nader's rampage. The centre was bogged down by Marianne and Claude as well. And while the southern flank held strong, it was only a matter of time before the Agarthan host would be rolled up from the north since the Alliance troops there had already begun an envelopment from the northwest.

Seeing the writing on the wall, Anacharsis, the Agarthan general in charge of the siege, sounded the retreat. There was nothing to be gained by staying. Furthermore, the west was now occupied by the army that had ambushed them and the south was held be House Goneril's forces. Drawing back and marching east was the only option. It was the most lightly defended place in the Alliance and would hopefully provide enough supplies to sustain his army until reinforcements arrived. For now, he had to accept defeat.

22nd day of the Garland Moon 1181. Bergliez territory, Edelgard's army camp outside the regional capital.

The recent weeks had been surprisingly unremarkable for the Emperor's host. After Edelgard and Byleth had reunited with their forces, they had led a mostly uninteresting campaign through Bergliez territory. The towns and villages in their way had swiftly surrendered when promised mercy, and the few scattered Bergliez troops they had encountered so far had offered little resistance. It seemed that Caspar's brother had only a weak hold on his father's former followers.

Contributing to this was the composition of the wayward Bergliez son's forces. While his father had commanded professional soldiers who had been extremely loyal to their Lord, he himself had very few of those left. Instead, he had tried to conscript troops from the general population, where his family's reputation was less than stellar. The people would have grumbled but followed the previous Count Bergliez still, yet his son was known to be arrogant, uncaring and all around unpleasant. Few people heeded his call to arms, and many of those who did resented him.

While this presented a soft target for the loyalist forces, Edelgard held back. Her troops had expended much of their siege equipment in Varley territory, and she was now waiting for replacements. Those would likely arrive within the next few days, but before then, no assaults were planned. The reinforcements that had arrived the previous day also needed to be accounted for. Thankfully, that process was going smoothly.

The wait for new siege equipment had its upsides too. The soldiers had some time to rest while their commanders made more plans and organised the army. There was also ample time for meetings.

"Your Majesty. Sir Byleth," greeted Jeritza, who was leading the reinforcements.

"It's good to see you, Jeritza," said Edelgard.

"Indeed. No formalities for me, though," added Byleth.

Jeritza grunted non-committally. "Do you need me for anything?"

Edelgard shook her head. "Not necessarily, though you are welcome to stay. The others are about to arrive, and a bit of bonding never hurt anyone. Oh, and before I forget, we have a message for you."

"A message?" asked Jeritza.

Byleth nodded and said, "It's from Mercedes. She says she misses you."

Jeritza perked up at hearing that. He always was attentive when it came to Mercedes. "How is she?" he asked.

"Last we saw her, she was doing well," answered Edelgard, "Though she seemed nervous about her deployment."

"I thought she was supposed to stay at Garreg Mach," replied Jeritza with some distress. He didn't like the thought of his sister in danger.

"It's a temporary assignment for the Eastern Church. She's leading a small detachment to support one of Claude's operations. She'll be back at Garreg Mach within a month," clarified Byleth.

"I see," said Jeritza.

Just then, the tent flap was drawn back. The ones who entered were the Black Eagles minus Linhardt, who was still working with Professor Hanneman. The ragtag band of former classmates were quick to gather around the table that had been put at the tent's centre. For all its quickness, the process still caused quite a bit of noise.

"Don't have shyness, Bernie," said Petra.

"But Professor Jeritza's scary!" complained the other girl.

"There will be order in this tent!" declared Ferdinand.

Caspar laughed and said, "There's no fun in that."

Dorothea sighed fondly and the sight. "Still such a rowdy bunch. Every time too."

"Do not act so surprised," glowered Hubert. "There won't be a change in this pattern any time soon."

"Oh dear," muttered Edelgard.

"It's almost like having children," commented Byleth.

Edelgard blushed; something that did not go unnoticed. "Already thinking of that, Edie? You two are moving fast. Just what have you two been up to while you were away? I'm eager to add it to the opera in your honour," teased Dorothea.

The songstress had once demonstrated part of that opera. Edelgard remembered the event, and her embarrassment was palpable. "You will do no such thing!" she protested.

"Indeed, you will not," said Hubert with a tone of finality.

Dorothea pouted. "You're no fun."

"We are not here for fun," shot back Hubert, "Even if it has escaped the notice of everyone else. This circus has gone on long enough."

"I can see that," came a voice from the tent's entrance. It was Shamir's.

Byleth gave her a nod of acknowledgement. "It's good that you're here."

She raised an eyebrow. "This isn't a strategy meeting. Don't make it sound like one."

"No, I agree with him," said Edelgard. "We need another adult to deal with the bickering children."

Shamir sighed tiredly. She put two fingers into her mouth and whistled. Loudly. The piercing sound of it made the others stop talking; except for Jeritza, who was not talking in the first place. She gave them a stern glare.

"Thank you, Shamir," said Edelgard. She turned to the others. "I'm sure you are wondering why I have called you all here. To put it bluntly, it's for administrative purposes. I know that we are fighting a war, but an Emperor must be more than a leader of soldiers. Rulership is primarily composed of civil matters, and a ruler must take good care of their people. You all come from many walks of life, and I want your input on some ideas."

Before she could get any further, there was again noise from the entrance of the tent. Three people stepped in. They were the three quarters of the Ashen Wolves who had been deployed to the Empire.

"If you're looking for more people from 'many walks of life', as you put it, we're right up your alley," said Yuri.

"Wait. What are you guys doing here?" asked Caspar.

"Is he serious?" asked Balthus, blinking.

Next to him, Hapi said, "I think he is."

"Trying to explain the concepts of intrigue and shadow war to Caspar is an exercise in futility," commented Hubert.

"Hey!" shouted Caspar. "I mean, you're right, but wasn't there a nicer way to say this? And I still don't know why the Ashen Wolves are here."

Deciding to finally answer that question, Yuri said, "We were here to disrupt your brother's defensive efforts. I think we did a pretty good job too. The conscription's results are even lower than I was expecting."

"That's good," said Byleth.

Yuri smirked. "What's even better is that I've got an in with the city watch. Really, some people are so very easy to blackmail. It helps that this particular guard captain's company is full of people who really didn't want to get drafted. We have a perfect entry point for infiltrators on the west gate as a result. In all honesty, we might not even need to fight a battle."

"Those are excellent news," said Edelgard with a smile. "We will go over your plan to use this opportunity later."

"Later?" asked Ferdinand from the side. "Shouldn't we discuss this first?"

Edelgard shook her head and said, "No, I have set aside time for policy, not strategy. So, it is policy we shall talk about. Now, let's start with the tax reforms I have been thinking of…"

Caspar and Bernadetta shared a single thought as the meeting commenced. Dear Goddess, rescue me from this nightmare!

23rd day of the Garland Moon 1181. Shared prayer space of Sothis and Hyperion.

Sothis was thinking hard. I was right beside her in this regard. We had been thinking about certain things; especially Kronya concerned us. We had called her here tonight, and now that she was standing in front of us, we were deep in thought.

Eventually, however, someone had to speak. I chose to do so. "Sorry for giving you the silent treatment, but I think we're both struggling to find the right words for this occasion."

Kronya adopted a nervous expression at that. "Did I do something wrong?"

I shook my head. "No, you didn't," I said, "The problem we're dealing with is not something one actively chooses to do."

She seemed even more confused than before. "What exactly is that problem?" she asked.

"I would not call it a problem; more of a complication," corrected Sothis diplomatically. "It's something we have been meaning to talk to you about for some time now, and I think we should do it before it actually becomes a real problem."

She took a deep breath and continued, "We had a conversation about boundaries some time ago. I'm not going back on what we agreed on back then, so don't worry about that. However, we must talk about what made it necessary: your feelings for Hyperion."

Kronya looked down. "Not just for him anymore," she muttered.

I sighed upon hearing that. "We need to discuss that too. Before we get any deeper into this, I think I should clarify something. What you're thinking of can't happen. Not now. In five years? Ten? Maybe, but definitely not now."

She swallowed hard. "But why not?" she asked. "I… I love you both."

I began, "While my libido screams at me to say yes-"

"As does mine," interrupted Sothis.

"-My rational thought process says no. The relationship between Sothis and myself is still very new. As stable as it feels, we need time for it to settle. Adding a third person into the mix is unlikely to end well," I continued.

Sothis added her own thoughts as well. "I grew up around Egyptian and Greek Gods. Three-way relationships and sexual deviancy were commonplace, so I'm not really opposed to such relationships on principle. However, the ones I observed were often chaotic, abusive and many other bad things. If we're ever going to do this, it will have to wait so we can do it properly. As Hyperion said, we need to settle into our current relationship. And you, Kronya, need to figure out if what you're feeling is really love or just infatuation. You can't do that in your current emotional state. We need to figure it out too. It won't work if we're not fully committed to loving you back in the same way you say you love us."

Kronya fidgeted anxiously. "So it's a no," she said.

Both Sothis and I nodded. "For now, at least," said Sothis, "But you're an immortal now. We literally have all the time in the world to figure this out. Give it a few years and we'll discuss it again."

"In the meantime," I said, "Let's stay as we are: Friends. Don't take our refusal to change the nature of our relationship as a refusal to keep you close. We're both very fond of you."

The pale woman nodded slowly, a small smile coming over her face, and replied, "Okay."

Sothis and I promptly pulled her into a hug. "Even if we're not lovers, we're with you. It will stay that way, no matter what the future may bring."

"Thank you," said Kronya, returning the hug. "I think I can wait if it's like that."

Sothis smiled at her. "Wonderful."

We gave our Agarthan friend a tight squeeze and then dew back. It seemed that the issue was settled for now.

Alas, this meant that there was now a far more unpleasant topic to discuss.

"Seeing as this topic is shelved, we should move on to the next," I began, "So I have to ask, how is your mission going?"

Kronya's expression became serious as she answered, "It's going well, I think. Since we laid the ghosts to rest, the people we've recruited are more convinced of the cause than before. We've also found a handful of officials with Dark Shells today. After we freed them, I told them to pray to you to deal with the psychological impact."

"I'll expect their arrival," I told her.

"We've also gathered some information," she said. She swallowed empty air before continuing, "We've confirmed that the people who are killed by Chilon are used as ritual sacrifices. I have no idea what the purpose of it is, and we'll continue to search, but we overheard some of the researchers saying that the tank of sacrificed life energy is almost full."

Sothis and I frowned. "That is worrying. Life is a very potent source of magical energy. Even if it's tainted by unwilling sacrifice, it's still extremely dangerous in the wrong hands," said the Goddess. "Do you know anything more than that?"

"Not specifically. I have another piece of information, but I don't know if it's connected to this issue," answered Kronya. "Apparently, Thales has something big in the works. Word has it that he plans to unleash whatever it is during the Goddess's Rite of Rebirth. The people we overheard think it's meant to mock you, my Lady."

"Whatever it is, it can't be good," I said, "And it overlaps with the date of the Rite of Rising, which means it's going to be an absolute shitshow we might be unable to stop."

"Agreed. It would be best if you held back with open operations in Shambhala until this has passed. If you act before then, Thales might use his new project against you. If he means to take on all of Fodlan with it, it would kill you and your companions. Even though you and your fellow psychopomps can return from the Underworld, your movement would be destroyed by the time you came back. So, stay back and stay safe," advised Sothis.

Kronya agreed. "That's probably a good idea."

I sighed. "If only we knew what Thales is thinking."

24th day of the Garland Moon 1181. Shambhala, Thales' study.

Thales was not a happy man right now. Then again, he was never happy. He could be delighted, particularly when his enemies suffered, but happiness was something he would only allow himself to feel once that beast and all its followers were purged from the face of the earth. But that was a thing of the future. Right now, he had no reason to feel that way.

The cause for his current bout of unhappiness was the string of failures that was plaguing him and his fellow Agarthans. Almost all major engagements had resulted in defeat. The majority of the minor generals had been defeated and were dead by this point. Myson had disappeared after the disaster at Enbarr, likely sharing the same fate. Cleobulus, much as he hated the woman, had been a competent commander on Myson's level, but she, too, had perished; something which had at least been confirmed. And now, confirmed by a message that had been warped in, Anacharsis had been defeated at Derdriu, though his force was still somewhat intact. If things continued like that, he would soon have to put Bias and Pittacus on the frontlines.

Another problem was that Shambhala would soon run out of manpower. The number of soldiers they could field was great, but the losses had surpassed the 300'000 benchmark already. If this had been a usual, protracted war which rarely saw battles with more than 10'000 soldiers on either side, Agartha could have maintained its war effort for far longer, but almost every battle so far had been large in scale. That said, if industry, equipment production and food production had been automated, they could have fielded more troops. Alas It was not so, and at the end of the day, Fodlan's manpower reserve was much greater than what Shambhala had available, even with automation.

As it was, the extant armies were not enough to win the war. The two concealed hosts that were currently deployed would only be useful for surprise attacks, though one of them could potentially break the back of one of their more persistent opponents. Still, Agartha would eventually be overwhelmed without additional support.

There was also the option of using the javelins of light, but the stock was limited. Shambhala lacked the resources to produce more of them, and after their ineffective use at Arianrhod, the ones that were left were for use on the Fell Star only. Even then, it had to be saturation bombardment, as precision attacks had proven to be underwhelming.

That was also precisely why these weapons had not been deployed against population centres. He and his fellow Agarthans could kill millions with the javelins of light, but the Fell Star alone had potential to be more devastating than all of Fodlan could ever hope to be; the records of their ancestors were clear on that. That consideration aside, the population centres had a less wasteful use for their cause.

Indeed, the ritual chambers in the catacombs were hungry for fuel. Going by the records, close to a million lives had already been sacrificed, and yet more were required. The population of the occupied Alliance territory was just barely enough to charge the true ritual, and even then, it had to be supplemented by a few Agarthan lives. Nobody would miss the poor, the vagabonds, and the broken toys among their kind. Their sacrifice for the greater good of Agartha was a more productive use of them than anything that had been done with them before anyway.

Yes, once that accumulated power was unleashed, it would be over. Even the Fell Star would not be able to prevail against the force the ritual would summon. That False God would be brought low once and for all, and all that followed it would be purged. Then it would be those who had refused to stand by the Children of Man. The world belonged to the Agarthans, and after they had won, they would suffer no one else to inhabit it.

Thales smiled. Now this was a thought he could be happy about.

AN: Greetings, dear readers!

Welcome back to another chapter of Headmates. Kronya finally does as she has promised and starts a cult while laying the ghosts to rest. Lorenz finally made a return and is now doing what he can to restore house Gloucester's honour. Hilda and Marianne have also made their return, and it was quite bombastic. They, Claude and Nader did a lot of damage, and their Heroes' Relics unleashed part of their power; without drawbacks thanks to the Nabateans' cooperation. Edelgard then introduces her subordinates to the Dark Arts of Bureaucracy. Afterwards, Sothis and Hyperion have a little heart to heart with Kronya. And finally, Thales shows that he has an ace or two up his sleeve.

I very much hope that you've enjoyed reading this chapter. If you have questions or criticisms, don't hesitate to write a review or a PM.

I take joy in writing a story that so many people seem to like. So, let me thank you for your favourites, follows and reviews, and thank you to all the silent readers as well. You're great.

Now then, with nothing more to say, I bid you a good day. Until next time, dear readers. Stay happy and healthy, everyone!