AN: Guest review response time:

Guest from the 9th of May: It being a weakness does not exclude it from being a restraint. The particular problem resulting in Hyperion's case is one that is all too prevalent in humans: Overcorrection. There will be consequences for it. Some good, some bad. To whom they will be so, I'll keep to myself at this point.

Well, it's not a feat. I was simply perplexed as to why it is a good thing for a story to be Fire Emblem-esque when the one "typical" FE game I know has mediocre writing. Aside from that, everyone I know personally who has played FE games before said that Three Houses wasn't a typical FE at all. I'm not trying to dismiss your criticism; I simply don't understand it, which is a failing on my part. That said, thank you for the compliment to the story.

Chapter 53: Troubles on the Homefront

27th day of the Blue Sea Moon 1181. Garreg Mach, war room.

The Monastery was in a panic. Gone was the jubilant mood from day before. Instead, there was a sense of urgency as soldiers ran around to prepare for unwelcome guests. There was a good reason for this course of action too.

An entire army under a disguise field had been discovered approaching Garreg Mach. A scout patrol had been performing their usual sweeps and had, as per protocol, made judicious of the Reveal spell. The scouts had fled as soon as they had broken the disguise field, only pausing briefly to assess enemy numbers, and had hurried back to the Monastery as fast as their mounts could take them.

Fortunately, the attacking force was still about a day away, and defences could be prepared somewhat. It was not much time at all, but it was enough to at least man the walls and activate the defences.

Another factor in the defender's favour was the return of the Church forces from the Faerghus front. This effectively raised their number from 7'000 to 12'000, consisting of two corps, the Monastery garrison force and the expeditionary legion which had been bought back from the Alliance front by Mercedes. Sadly, this was where their advantages ceased.

The attacking force numbered roughly 50'000 according to the scout reports and later verified through the sensors in the Holy Tomb. It was the Agarthan army that had turned around in alliance territory and headed for Bergliez territory, where it had subsequently disappeared without giving battle to Edelgard's forces. As expected for an army meant to besiege a fortress, they also brought a large assortment of siege weapons and a sizeable complement of both Titanus war machines and demonic beasts. In terms of both manpower and heavy weaponry, they outmatched the Church's troops immensely.

Dealing with the problem this situation presented were the Archbishop and the highest ranking officers present in Garreg Mach. For the purposes of discussing the defence of the Monastery they now gathered in the War Room.

"How did we miss an entire army disappearing?" asked Wolfgang.

"For one, they used a different formation for the casters of the disguise field than in previous instances, which made tracking it impossible. We also assumed it would take flanking position on Edelgard's forces," answered Byleth. "They are behind enemy lines without any supply. It's not very smart to besiege a fortress when one's own supplies are not expected to last longer than the ones of the defenders. That assumption now has to be re-evaluated."

Pensive frowns spread across the room. The point was valid. Protracted sieges were costly in soldiers and supplies. Thus far, the Church and its allies had avoided such situations by creating breaches and assaulting enemy positions.

"So they're planning an assault?" asked Hanneman.

Byleth shook his head and said, "As I said, we must re-evaluate. The Agarthans demonstrated potent mass-Warp and Rescue spells during their attack on Fort Merceus. It's likely that they're using similar spells for supply purposes. We can expect that they operate under the assumption that we do not consider this."

Rhea frowned and asked, "Then what is their purpose here?"

"Distraction, I'd say," answered Jeralt. "They're hampering our mobility by pinning us down. More importantly, they're pinning the kid down."

"This does make sense," muttered Seteth. He looked at Byleth and said, "They know you are connected to the Goddess. That appearance will be reinforced by your changed looks. You are thus a priority target, kept busy so as not to tip the scales of any given engagement."

"Something else is going on as well," said Rhea. "I tried to communicate with Mother and even with Hyperion last night. They responded to my words, but their replies were garbled. I understood very little, only that they were trying to warn me about something. Only one thing is clear. Whatever it is, it must be centred on Shambhala."

"It is most likely necromancy, considering what we know about the Agarthan leadership and their methods, as well as the atrocities committed in Shambhala. Hyperion and Sothis discussed this topic with me a few times. Possible targets for revival are Nemesis and the Ten Elites. How many others, if at all, were raised from death is unknown," commented Byleth.

"Assuming it is necromancy," interjected Manuela with a frown. "It's a bad time to lose access to immediate intel."

"Hanneman, how far can you reach with the communication spell?" asked Rhea.

Startled, he replied, "I have recently extended my range, Your Grace. I should be able to reach even Enbarr."

"Then you may be able to reach our agents in Shambhala," said the Archbishop.

He thought about it for a moment, then said, "It should be possible. I will try to contact Lady Anselma."

"Why not that Kronya woman? She's supposed to be the team leader," said Jeralt.

"The spell works better if I know the person I am targeting with it. Out of the entire group, I have spent the most time with Anselma. The likelihood of success will be highest with her," answered Hanneman

"I am pleased to hear that," said Rhea. "Contact her as soon as is feasible. We need to know what is going on."

Hanneman nodded. "Very well. Then I shall leave the battle preparations of the special magic unit in the hands of Lysithea and Linhardt while I contact our informants."

"We should probably get to that as well," said Wolfgang. "The troops need to be positioned, and while I trust the Knight Commanders to get their squads in order, I should go and maintain oversight."

"That would be prudent, yes. There is no use worrying over future problems if we cannot deal with the current one," said Rhea. "This meeting is dismissed. We shall reconvene in the evening. Byleth, please stay."

When the others had left the room, she and her grandson were left with some privacy. Rhea used that opportunity to wrap him into her arms. Surprised by the suddenness of the gesture, he took a short while to respond, but he did so eventually. Her grip on him tightened as he returned her hug.

"I fear for Fodlan," she said, "And I fear for all of us. If Mother were here, she-"

Byleth interrupted her, "Stop. She's not here, and she's not the solution to all the world's problems. In general, we should not rely on chosen ones. They are a stopgap measure; nothing more. It exerts pressure on those who have been 'chosen' until they break. It also encourages complacency in everyone else, which would eventually lead to their doom if left unchecked. Stop relying on Sothis for everything, Grandmother."

He had read through enough cautionary tales about heroes and chosen ones in Hyperion's library. He knew of the danger of leaving all the work in the hands of a select few. Overwork, pressure, mental health issues that would lead to a slow descent into insanity, and many more things were frequent occurrences not just in stories but also in the history books. It was better for people to solve their own problems whenever it was possible.

"But we are relying on chosen ones right now, and we have been doing so for a long time. Mother was chosen to save the world, and she did!" protested Seiros.

He stared at her, saying, "And where did that lead her? And us? She told me, you know. Civilisation collapsed. Humanity was near extinction. And Sothis fell into a coma before she was almost literally butchered. Many people – human and Nabatean alike – failed to respond properly. Everything was left in Sothis' hands, and she couldn't bear the weight."

Rhea looked thoughtful and wistful at the same time. "It is funny to see you so impassioned. Everyone who knew you as a mercenary says that you used to speak so little, but the words have been flowing from your mouth like a waterfall from the moment I have bothered to pay attention to it."

"I blame Hyperion," said Byleth drily, "But don't distract from the topic. Sothis can't save you from everything, and neither can I. You should also not be expected to be anyone else's chosen one, even though many think of you that way, especially amongst the Knights of Seiros."

She frowned as she considered this. She had definitely felt the weight of her responsibilities over the last twelve centuries. Being the focal point of the Church of Seiros for that long had left its marks on her. It had been stressful, painful and heart-breaking, considering that she seemed to failed in her task. Having to bear the burden of expectations for all eternity sounded like a bad prospect. Her grandson's words had merit.

"The fact remains that such outstanding individuals are needed," she said.

"I never claimed otherwise. However, these people can't stand alone. Great heroes and champions are a great advantage, but they cannot be relied on to always emerge when there is a crisis," countered Byleth. "We'll get through this without Sothis and Hyperion, and Edelgard will persevere without me."

Rhea sighed. "I wish I had your confidence. Mother is back and all should be fine. Yet she is far away, and our foes are at our gates."

Byleth then decided to do something he had never attempted before. He turned his head and kissed her on the cheek. She reacted with surprise, not having expected the gesture of affection. Her surprised expression quickly softened. Tension seemed to be leaving her body. The young man's gambit had been successful.

"Trust in your family, Grandmother." he said. "It is larger than just Sothis. We're all here for you."

A faint smile emerged on Rhea's face. "I will try," she said.

"Good," replied Byleth.

As much as she wanted to enjoy this moment of concord, there was a question on Rhea's mind. "Do you have this faith in others as well? That they will prevail without divine aid?"

Byleth nodded and answered, "Yes. As I said, I believe in my former students and their strength. I believe in Edelgard and those who follow her. I believe in Dimitri and his allies. It will be tough for all of them, but I believe that they are strong enough to pull through. Your monks and nuns as well, or even Hyperion's clergy; they will do what must be done with what they have."

The same day. Lower levels of Shambhala.

The mood among the rebels was not good as they descended to the lowermost levels of the underground city. Immensely distressing news had reached them, and they were hurrying to respond. In the lead of the column were the clergy of Hyperion. They, most of all, wanted to ascertain the situation. The others were not far behind, however.

They eventually found an exit to the secret passage they were using. It led to one of the levels that overlooked the lowest two of the city. It fit the structure of Shambhala's layout, which usually linked three individual levels together into a bigger one. The exit, while shielded from view, was also close to a good vantage point.

Once they had reached it, they stopped in horrified silence. The crackling of fires, screams and the sound of mocking laughter accompanied the sight of a rapidly developing hellscape. The people who called this place their home were caught in the middle of the chaos. All the horrifying implications this had were clear for all to see.

Nikola was unyielding in the face of the atrocities committed before his eyes. No matter how much he wanted to hurl at the sight, he could not. The rest of the team were too shaken by it all, even Kronya. The people tailing behind them were not any better either So, he held onto the iron will that had preserved his sanity for the many years of enslavement under the Dark Shell.

"How could Thales permit this?" asked Kronya, utterly horrified.

The others felt the same. They were shocked into silence.

Nikola scoffed. "He has never cared for anything but his goal of destroying everyone on the surface."

"I know that! I just… I expected him to have some limits," she said, "Not moral ones, but this is nothing but a waste of lives; lives that would have fed his damn war machine."

The older man scowled. "I believe he judged the compliance of Nemesis and his warriors to be a greater asset. This is the price they asked in return for it. And Thales complied without a second's thought."

Nemesis had been a bandit, and those who followed him were of the same mindset as he. They loved to fight, plunder, and despoil. They also suffered from the same impatience and lack of impulse control as any bandit. This coupled with their extreme sadism, and thus led to, in the worst of their lot, a desire to indulge in their desires without heading for enemy territory first. To acquire the services of Nemesis and his army, Thales had therefore decided to let them do as they wished.

As a result, Nemesis' horde of savages were now rampaging through the lower residential levels of Shambhala. It was where the dregs of their society lived; those deemed to be of lesser value. In other words, these levels' residents were expendable in Thales mind. They were served up as pigs to the slaughter, almost literally. Men, women and children were butchered in the streets by the bloodthirsty bandits. Almost none of them were lucky enough to receive a quick death since the bandits saw fit to turn the slaughter into a competition of sadism and depravity. Rape and torture were rampant. People were torn to shreds while still alive and forced to watch helplessly as the same was done to their loved ones.

Kronya's small group of rebels had only arrived hours after the massacre had begun. Information on it was being heavily suppressed. The only reason they had even found out about it were the words of a shaken soldier who had broken ranks and fled the scene instead of watching together with the rest of Chilon's direct subordinates. The man had spoken about it to his superior, who had been under observation by the rebels. By the time the information had reached Kronya, it had already been too late to contain it.

With no time to put on their armour, she and her companions had rushed to gather their fellows and head down through a passage only Myson had known about. The captured man's paranoia had finally had some benefit.

The young woman who led the group drew a shuddering breath. "We need to do something before this gets even worse," she said to Nikola.

"We don't have the forces to pull that off, Kronya. We're barely a few dozen against a warband of at least 60'000. There's nothing we can do," he said with anger in his voice.

Philip found his voice and raised it in denial. "We can't fight these marauders, but we can deprive them of their targets. Let's get as many people out of here as we can."

"We really should," agreed Nadja. Her voice was shaky.

"… That could work," admitted Nikola.

Kronya agreed eagerly. "Then that is what we'll do. It's risky, but we can't sit around here and do nothing. What about you, Anselma?"

The only non-Agarthan in their group shuddered, still looking at the scene before her. Her focus was somewhere else, however, as evidenced by the small magic circle over her left ear. When she noticed that Kronya was talking to her, she turned to her leader.

"I'm being contacted by Hanneman. He wants to know what's going on in Shambhala," said Anselma.

Kronya nodded with a frown. "Tell him everything. The necromancy, the massacre and… our intervention. Tell him to contact us again tomorrow. If we're not responding, we're dead."

Anselma did so, waiting for Hanneman's response. After receiving it, she spoke to Kronya again. "He… He says Garreg Mach is coming under siege. He might not have time tomorrow, but he will try."

A sharp nod from Kronya was all the answer she needed. "Tell him that we have to go now. Philip, are our people ready?"

The young man replied, "They are. We're good to go."

"Then let's do this," said Kronya.

Anselma quickly finished her talk with Hanneman and hurried after the others, who had already gone ahead and joined the rest of their group. She was nervous, and she could see that everyone else was like that as well. What they were about to do was reckless and stupid, but they had to do it.

"We don't have much of a plan," admitted Kronya, "But we have a barebones idea. Are you alright with that?"

The others nodded with severe expressions, and she continued, "Uncle and his squad will hold the entrance to Myson's secret passage that we used to get down here. It's the evacuation point. Irina and Ramis are going to run interference with their squads so the savages don't find the passage."

"We'll hold out to the last," said Dareios.

Irina and Ramis, two of the senior members of their small group, agreed as well. "We'll stand until we fall into Lord Hyperion's embrace, if necessary," said Ramis. Irina added, "And we'll take as many of the curs down as can."

Kronya nodded at them and went on, "My team will draw attention and cause confusion. The rest of you are going to evacuate as many people as you can. We'll keep going as long as we can. Watch out for the signal to retreat. We can't save everyone, and If we stay too long, the ones we can save will be in danger of discovery."

She felt her breath hitch as she said that last sentence. She was failing her people with her inability to help them. The unfortunate reality of it was as she had described, however. The secret passage would only remain secret for as long as no one figured out where it was and how to access it. The rampaging band of marauders would find it if they stayed too long. Her heart broke at the thought of having to leave behind thousands to such a cruel fate.

As everyone split up to do their assigned tasks, she felt someone grab her shoulder. She turned around to see that it was Nikola.

"This is the only approach we have. It's painful, but it's all we can do. We can only save so many without risking the others. You made the right decision," he said.

"I thought I was getting better," she said, "But I'm still just a cruel bitch who leaves people to suffer while I scurry away to safety."

He snorted. "We're running off to start a hopeless battle in order to defend helpless innocents. And you're the one who volunteered our unit for it. If that's safety, your perception is very skewed. No, I think I speak for the others when I say that you're a brave woman and a paragon of our people."

Kronya gave him an uncertain smile. "Thanks. Now let's go before the others start without us."

The two quickly caught up to the other three of their group after their short chat. They were not that far ahead, which was typical. Cohesion was very important for the style of fighting Jeralt had trained them in. They had to move and fight as one.

Sooner than they would have liked, they encountered the first of Nemesis' bandits. As they had not met any resistance worth speaking of, the hostiles were spread out and unorganised. This meant that the incoming attack took them by surprise.

Kronya tore into them with a viciousness she had not shown since she had left Thales' "employ." Her daggers flashed as she swung them at the jugular of any bandit she could reach. Whatever was outside of her main weapons' range was shot with blasts of light magic. The result was as gruesome as could have been expected.

The other members of her team were not far behind her. Anselma, for one, nimbly dodged the haphazard slash of her opponent's axe before she stabbed him in the throat. Philip was less dextrous, so he simply blocked the attack aimed at him, headbutted his opponent and then bashed her head in with his cudgel. Nadja meanwhile proved her own ability by shooting arrows with surprising speed and precision, killing more than one bandit herself. And lastly, Nikola took down a fair number of enemies with quick and powerful spells. All told, the group of five had made short work of a band of fourteen.

"Run away from here," said Kronya to the survivors the bandits had left behind. "Run in the direction we came from. Go!"

The frightened civilians were frozen for a moment, but then they ran. They rightly assumed that they had no time to pack supplies. This part of the city had bloodthirsty bandits crawling all over it, after all. There was little time for anything other than fleeing.

Hyperion's clergy moved on without watching them depart. They still had a job to do, and it involved killing a lot of people in what little time they had before they would be overwhelmed.

Their next stop occurred not much later. They game across another band of a good dozen enemies in the middle of their sick revelry. This group was dispatched even faster than the last one, owing that dubious honour to their inattention. Sadly, only two of the five people they had had their fun with were still alive. That was a bitter pill to swallow, but it was better than nothing.

The pattern repeated itself for about half an hour. Kronya and her team would encounter bandits, kill them, rescue anyone they could, send them on their way, and then move on. Over time, however, the alertness of the bandits increased as the movement of fleeing people became more obvious. Eventually, they also noticed that some of their number had died.

The rebels ran into a larger group at some point. Several smaller ones had come together after they had noticed that some of their friends had not come back from their detours. It was still small enough to be taken down in an ambush, if done correctly, but it was a good indicator that continuing would be too risky.

"This is the last group we'll take on. Then… then we retreat," whispered Kronya.

They struck hard and fast. Nikola's heaviest spells slammed into the biggest clump of bandits he could aim at. Kronya aimed for the second biggest with her potent light magic. Philip unleashed powerful combat arts, whose impact greatly benefitted from the power boost he and his fellow Agarthans on the team had received from the ghost pacification. Nadja's own combat arts also profited from this, making her arrows punch right through her enemies. Anselma had to rely on her skill alone, but she was no slouch either. For all their speed, however, they were not fast enough.

In the group of bandits they were assaulting, there was one who carried a horn. None of Hyperion's clergy spotted it fast enough to stop him from blowing it. He was dead a few seconds later, but by that time, it was already too late.

"Shit!" cursed Nikola. "We've got to high-tail it out."

"Agreed. Let's give the others the signal," said Kronya.

The signal was one of the first things they had taught their new recruits to recognise. It was a series of magical pulses emitted by Nikola. They were weak but easily recognisable by the enchanted keys each team leader had been given. So, Nikola quickly cast the necessary spell.

After that, they hurried back towards the rally point near the secret passage's entrance. It was not a moment too soon, as more horns sounded throughout Shambhala's lowest districts. The bandits were gathering en-masse to tackle the threat to their safety. The window of opportunity for the rebels was closing quickly.

The way through the twists and turns of the lower city was trickier to navigate than was convenient, but it served its purpose of concealing the rebels' exit point. Still, they had to reach it fast. Otherwise, they would be caught by the encroaching enemies.

"Hurry up; we're nearly there!" said Kronya as they closed in on the entrance.

They were only a single turn around a corner away from the entrance now. Safety was close at hand, but danger was as well. In fact, it was closer.

"Urghk!"

Jutting out of Kronya's back was a lance. It had run her through completely. As she fell to the ground, she watched as the rider who had struck her rode towards the rest of her group. He had friends on more horses following him. They were caught.

As she was bleeding out, the young woman remembered that she had an emergency option. I hope this works, she thought.

The world froze and turned purple, black and white. Time rewound itself. It was not without consequences, however. Even has her body was restored with the reversal of the wounds inflicted upon it, Kronya felt it crumble under the strain of the divine power she was using. The pain was intense; excruciating even. Nevertheless, she pulled through.

When time resumed again, she quickly used her quickly dissipating strength to throw a bunch of blocks behind her. It would have to be enough.

"Carry me!" she shouted at her comrades before she collapsed.

The others turned around, looking at her. She was bleeding from her nose, eyes and ears, and droplets of the dark red substance were coming out of her mouth. Then they saw the raiding party of riders behind them.

"Shit," cursed Philip.

Nikola spotted the solution to the problem, however. The blocks Kronya had thrown consisted of the APEX material they had used many times before. He quickly pulled the others down to the ground with him and activated the delayed detonation spell placed on the blocks. They exploded when the riders were right on top of them, killing most of them instantly and crippling the rest.

Kronya's unmoving body was close enough to be propelled by the shockwave of the explosion, and she landed awkwardly in a heap in front of her comrades. Nikola and Philip scrambled to pick her up quickly before more pursuers could find them.

The entire team of five then moved as quickly around the corner as Kronya's injuries allowed. Dareios spotted their approach from the small outcrop that hid the entrance to the secret passage.

"Get in! You're the last ones," he shouted at them.

They hurriedly entered the passage. Dareios quickly closed it with the mechanism next to the entrance and the sealed it. To those outside it now looked like nothing more than a part of the city's outer wall.

"What the Hell happened out there?" asked Dareios. Then he saw the state his niece was in. "Healers!" he shouted.

Very few of their number were capable of healing magic, but there was a handful of them in their small band of rebels. One of them came running at being called. When he arrived, the man took a quick look at Kronya and cursed.

"She's in critical condition," he said. "Get her on a stretcher and I'll stabilise her."

Nikola threw his companions a look and ordered, "Do as the man says. I'll debrief Dareios on the mission. It's my job as Kronya's lieutenant. You make sure I'm not stuck with it for too long, got it?"

They complied and made off with Kronya. This left Nikola to shift his focus on Dareios.

"How many did we get out?" asked the temporary team leader.

Dareios grimaced and answered, "Just a bit over a thousand, I'd guess. We didn't have the time or personnel to get more out."

"That's grim news. How many people lived down here anyway?" asked Nikola.

"Over half a million. Most won't live to see tomorrow," said Dareios sadly.

Nikola growled. "Thales will pay for this."

Dareios nodded and said, "He and Nemesis will suffer for what's happened here."

With that conversation over, the rebels began organising the remaining steps of the evacuation. The people they had rescued needed to be seen to. Medical treatment, tallying their number and getting them ready to leave was part of it. They would retreat to their main base near the corpse pit and get settled in there.

After this was done, they would probably spend some time getting to know each other. The horrors of war had to be distracted from, and few things were as effective at that as talking with new faces.

30th day of the Blue Sea Moon 1181. Imperial army field camp, Aegir territory.

The atmosphere in camp this day was not quite as tense as it sometimes was. The Emperor's army had linked up with the present forces earlier in the day, and there were no operations planned until the day after. This left the soldiers who were not on patrol or guard duty with a bit of time off to relax and get acquainted with the new arrivals.

One such individual was Jeritza, much to his surprise. He normally had little interest in social interaction, even with his vastly improved mental state. Alas, he had been roped into talking to new people. Ironically, he was engaged in a conversation with someone who was not part of the local force but had instead arrived with Edelgard's army, just like he had. He had not expected much, so it came was a surprise that he was now enjoying the company of his interlocutor.

"So this is the infamous Death Knight," said Yuri, "You're far more handsome than I imagined you being."

"… I am not used to hearing that," admitted Jeritza. "Most people are too scared or uncomfortable around me."

A light laugh escaped the purple-haired man. "Now why would that be?" he asked.

"I am dangerous. Deadly," answered Jeritza.

Instead of the reaction he had expected he received renewed laughter. "We're all like that. Everyone here is armed and geared for war. You'd think that people would understand that a bit of bloodlust isn't a reason for openly displayed fear."

The taller man was intrigued by that statement. "Why is that?" he asked. "Almost everyone fears death."

"Well, that is true," said Yuri, "But I've been courting death for all my life, and I've learned a lot about death, dying, and killing. Among those things is that bloodlust comes from a predator. But showing fear to a predator means signalling that you're prey. Fear is important for survival, sure, but it shouldn't be openly displayed all the time."

Jeritza hummed as he thought this over. It was true that his Death Knight personality was far more likely to go on a killing spree when people were running away from him. If there was a worthy opponent, he would focus on them and leave others alone. There was something to the theory he was being presented with.

"I'm intrigued by you," he said after some time.

Yuri chuckled and said, "Should I take that as a sign that you're interested in me? I have to say, the feeling is mutual." He winked for emphasis.

Perplexed by that response, Jeritza simply stared at him. "Are you… attempting to flirt with me?"

"Attempting? Ouch, you're harsh," said Yuri with a chuckle. "You just so happen to be my type. Don't think anything of it if you don't want to."

"I am not sure how to respond to that," said Jeritza honestly.

"I do have that effect on people. For now, let's leave it by the wayside," said Yuri.

Jeritza nodded. He was not good with things like that. It was better to not think about it right now. However, this meant that they were now out of things to discuss.

Clearly, his conversation partner had noticed the same. He spoke again, "I'm not much of a fan of awkward silence, so let's do something else. Is there something around here you do for fun?"

"No," said Jeritza. "Not around here."

"Is that so?" asked Yuri. "So there is something interesting to do elsewhere. Colour me intrigued."

The blond man thought about his answer before he said anything. "We are too far away from my hunting grounds. Aside from that, I like sparring with strong opponents, but I am considered too… intense for most," he said.

Yuri raised an eyebrow and asked, "Trouble controlling your bloodlust? I've seen that before in my subordinates. There are tricks to deal with that. I can show a few of them to you if you're interested."

That piqued Jeritza's interest. He had gotten better at controlling his impulses thanks to the many soul-soothing sessions, but he had hit a wall at some point. Finding a new way to deal with that problem was something he was looking forward to. Maybe then he could spend some more time with his sister without putting her in danger.

"I would like to know these 'tricks' of yours," he said.

"Just what I like to hear. Let's head to the training yard," responded Yuri.

The two then departed from their meeting spot. It was not all that far away from the training yard since Jeritza spent a lot of time there instructing any fresh recruits. It was the closest he actually came to sparring, even if the skill of his pupils routinely disappointed him. Now, however, he was excited rather than despondent at the prospect of going there.

The plan sadly encountered a problem shortly before they could reach their intended destination. A messenger had arrived.

"Her Majesty has called a meeting of the war council. She requests that you meet her at the command tent as soon as possible," said the messenger.

Now somewhat annoyed, Jeritza nodded. Yuri did as well, dismissing the messenger.

"It would seem that we'll have to postpone the lesson until after the meeting," lamented Yuri.

Jeritza grunted. He would take a change in schedule over a cancellation. "Let's get this over with," he said.

The two were in the command tent not much later. The other high-ranking officers were present as well, including Shamir, who was the acting commander of the Church troops within the army. It was like the messenger had said.

"I will not mince words," began Edelgard, "As some of you already now, Garreg Mach is under siege. My T-… Sir Byleth is now stuck there and will not be able to join us. Additionally, I have just received word that a large force of what we assume to be hostile troops have emerged from Shambhala. While the majority of these forces are headed towards Alliance territory, a sizeable detachment is heading our way. This will complicate our capture of Aegir territory."

The first to ask a question was Shamir. "How many hostiles are we talking about?"

"There are at least 50'000 headed towards us," answered Edelgard. "I have called you together to discuss our response to the threat."

31st day of the Blue Sea Moon 1181. Hyperion's Palace, Strategic Information Centre.

It was a strange day for the Underworld. The affairs of the living were usually not theirs to meddle with, but there were extenuating circumstances. Indeed, the matter at hand was one of the very few cases where such interference was not only allowed but obligatory. As such, the unusual circumstances called for unusual methods of approach.

"So, we've got hundreds of thousands of unauthorised absences from the Underworld. I take it that nobody's happy about that. That means we've got a reason to interfere, right?" asked Manannan.

The Irish Sea God had arrived at the palace days after the others. He had apparently spent the time until then in the Realm of Erebus, talking with Sothis' children. Only after Erebus himself had requested his presence had he come. He had been integrated into the regency council in short order, and been informed about the most recent developments, on which he had then commented.

"That is correct," answered Nyx.

"Problem is, even with the authority to do something, we don't have the ability, do we?" he asked.

A grimace came over Nyx' face. "Ordinarily, the Keres would be dispatched to retrieve the offenders, but they're dead. Leaving the underworld is not possible."

An uncomfortable silence hung over the room. It did not last long, however. One of the information officers employed in the SIC interrupted it.

"Uhm… My Lords and Ladies? I have invited an expert on these matters. He should be arriving soon," said the officer.

All heads at the table spun around to look at him. "Who are you and who is this 'expert' you have invited?" asked Manannan.

"I'm Colonnello Gian Ganzoni, my Lord, late of the 255th motorised infantry of the Italian Republic. I work as a strategic advisor," said the officer as introduction. "To answer your second question, the person I have invited is Lord Odin. I know he is not part of the council, but I figured that he would be the most knowledgeable person when it comes to getting dead people to fight in the world of the living."

"Hmph. Impudent, but it was the correct course of action," said Hades.

His wife Persephone, who was also present, laid a hand on his. "Easy, husband," she said, "If he is a strategic advisor, he may very well have the authority to request the presence of others here. I would not call adherence to protocol impudence."

"I do indeed have that authority, as listed in article 4 of the currently documented standing orders," confirmed Gian.

"How about we focus less on legalities and actually think of a solution to the problem?" interjected Erebus.

He usually stayed silent, deferring to his wife in most important things, but he had a way of getting people to stop bickering. He was useful to have around when discussions started derailing.

One who agreed what he had just said was Tartarus. "Yes. I've thought of a way that might work, but it will require the cooperation of as many death gods as we can find."

Izanami, another member of the council, was intrigued. She asked, "What are you proposing?"

"We all agree that we cannot do anything to influence the world of the living directly," began Tartarus, "But there are methods to do so indirectly. Sadly, this depends on our living allies' ability to kill those who have escaped the underworld. Once that happens, however, we can latch onto the returning souls. It's possible to use the sympathetic properties between the souls who return to the Underworld and those who still remain in the world of the living without authorisation. Then, we can drag down a few escapees more together with them."

Scrunched-up faces, raised eyebrows and rubbed chins were now a common sight inside the room. To most, it seemed like an option worthy of contemplation.

"I think it's a good idea," said Ananke. Her husband Chronos nodded along.

Moros agreed as well. "None may escape their doom," he proclaimed.

"You're laying it on a bit thick, my son," chided Nyx, "But you are correct. If our enemies are so content to play around with forbidden magic, they will reap the price of their folly. I agree to Tartarus' plan."

"All in favour?" asked Manannan.

Hands were raised, and most voted in favour of the plan. There was some grumbling, however. Ptah, in particular, had issues with this method of approach. He was on the council as a replacement for Ra, whose strained relationship with Sothis had also caused some tension with Hyperion.

"I agree that it is a good approach… if it works. I have my doubts," said the oldest God of Egypt.

"What makes you say that?" asked Nyx.

The old God said, "The power necessary to do so is prohibitive. Now that we are dead, our powers regenerate at a glacial rate as compared to before. It's still faster than any human bar little Sopdet's champion and maybe a handful of others could hope to match, but it is far too little for what you are proposing. Unhousing souls through indirect contact is no easy task; I'm sure Psyche would agree with me if she were here."

The council members grimaced as they considered this. Ptah was an old hand when it came to housing and unhousing souls. He knew the inner mechanics of it better than almost anyone. If he said that it was not possible, then that was likely the case. It threw a wrench into their plans, however.

"I'm not one to discount your opinion, but I still say we do some research into the topic," said Manannan. "We should definitely look into other methods as well. The fact remains that the escapees must be caught and their transgression punished. All possible avenues of success should be explored."

The discussion of more options was opened then. While many more things were discussed, most were far-fetched or outlandish, and those which were not so were often not viable. This went on for a while until the sound of the door opening could be heard.

Into the room stepped an old man with an eyepatch. He looked weathered and wise, but also battle-hardened and surprisingly muscular for his old age. The two ravens on his shoulders and the spear in his hand also gave away his identity. It was Odin.

As he stepped closer, he gave a nod to Ptah. The old Egyptian was the God of Speech, after all, and the God of Runes respected him.

"I hear my presence was requested," he said.

Gian spoke up again. "It was, my Lord. The council is currently discussing ways of retrieving the escaped souls from the Underworld and their limited options in doing so. Normally, a suitable force would be dispatched, but since everyone here is dead, that is not possible at the moment. I requested your presence because of your expertise in the field of temporarily bringing the souls of the dead to the land of the living."

Odin combed through his beard as he replied, "The gates of Valhalla have never been opened, so the option to send a force through still remains, yes. However, such action would be limited to a single battle. That is all Valhalla was designed for. Without the power of a living God, it is also greatly limited in capacity. I doubt a few hundred warriors would make a difference."

"We could combine it with a previous idea," said Manannan. "Pending the cooperation of several Gods of Magic, it might even be our best option yet."

"Explain," said Hades.

The Irish Over-king did so. "The Agarthans fuelled their resurrection spells with the sacrifice of innocents. I say we reverse their magic. We shall device a magic that expands the deployment capacity of Valhalla for every escaped soul that is returned to the Underworld."

Ptah scratched his chin in thought and said, "Yes, this could work. Ripping out the stolen life force at the point of death, and repurposing it for a nobler cause is viable. The plan has my approval."

The exact details of the plan were then discussed. It took much time for the theoretical framework to come together, and many people would have to be contacted, but a solution was coming together.

It was a sign that even without Sothis and Hyperion, the world could hold out, at least for a while.

AN: Hello there, dear readers!

Once more, a big thank you to everyone who has followed, favourited and reviewed Headmates since last time. I never expected this story to get as popular as it has, and I think you for your continued support.

I hope you enjoyed today's chapter. This one was about people coping with the absence of the two central deities of the narrative. For some, the realisation that those two aren't as vital as they believe them to be was a shock. To others, like Yuri and Jeritza, it was just business as usual. To others, like Rhea/Seiros, it was distressing. To Kronya and her team, it was disheartening, but it solidified their determination. And to some, like the regency council of the Underworld, it was an annoying inconvenience.

The next chapter will go back to their PoV again, though.

Now, going back to Yuri and Jeritza. I was trying to set up some chemistry there, but I have no clue if it worked. As someone who is both heterosexual and completely inexperienced with romance, I have no clue how to properly portray a relationship between two men (For that matter, I have also no idea how to portray a relationship between two women, but portrayals of such relationships are far more common, so I had something to at least go on there). Please don't come after me with pitchforks for botching it up later down the road.

Leaving that aside, I am happy to inform you that I have a story recommendation again. A Nerubian's Journey – Warcraft SI by Fizzicks1 is an entertaining and well-written story about the titular Nerubian's rebirth and his quest to ensure that the apocalyptic death world known as Azeroth doesn't explode in his face. It's well worth a read and is beginner friendly concerning the Warcraft lore.

With all that said, I now bid you farewell. Until next time. Stay happy and healthy, everyone!