It was a massacre. Nearly fifty enemy soldiers had ambushed them, and had managed to take down a few unfortunate members of their party. They were still moving, thankfully, but from the little that Byleth could see through the fog, they would not last long without immediate help.
Catherine bolted to action, calling out for everyone to form ranks. It didn't work. The panic that gripped the initial attack was too much, and more than one person was running around with no direction. At this rate, they would be culled before they could do anything.
For her part, Byleth looked for the Blue Lions. If anything, she trusted them to not panic - she had drilled that into them during her tenure as a professor, and while this may have been the first time they had been ambushed, she had confidence that they would take those lessons to heart.
And indeed, she was proven right.
Dimitri had taken charge, directing the rest of his retinue with an efficiency that Byleth was proud of. Beyond the screams that had overtaken the battlefield, she could hear him bark orders toward the others, while Dedue faithfully stood guard beside him.
Ashe and Sylvain stood side by side, covering Mercedes as she helped one of their injured allies. Felix was already in the thick of it, fighting off three different enemies, one of them on horseback. Somewhat unsurprisingly, he was very much on the winning side despite the disadvantage.
In fact, all of the Blue Lions who were actively fighting were clearly winning. That was in stark contrast to the rest of their allies, who'd scattered into the fog.
She ran up to them as she cut down another enemy. More were coming in through the fog, and were slowly overwhelming the retinue through sheer numbers. It was looking as though what they encountered wasn't just an offshoot from the rebellion, but the main force.
"Dimitri!"
The prince whipped around, hand wrapped around his spear, glaring at her direction. When he saw who it was, his features relaxed, before going back to point Felix at another incoming group. Byleth nodded in approval, despite the situation. He was learning to multitask more effectively, something that a battlefield commander would need, especially if one was going to be a king in the future.
"Professor, I'm glad to see you safe." He gave her a brief smile, one that Byleth returned, before their attention was directed to a shout of pain. Dedue calmly leaned back as he struck down a soldier that had gotten near them unnoticed.
A small nod of acknowledgement was returned with a respectful one in turn.
"Do you have a plan, Professor?"
"We're too vulnerable here. Have everyone gather our wounded and head back to Catherine's position."
"Understood."
Some people would be surprised that someone of Dimitri's status would follow Byleth's orders without question. Those same people, in her opinion, could go and try being on the front lines for once. When you were in the middle of a heated battle, social hierarchy was nothing compared to your life.
That being said, Dimitri had a natural charisma to him, which when honed by years of princely training, made him a much more visible pillar for everyone to follow. She watched as he called out for everyone, his voice sounding out above the den of clashes.
Soon enough, the two sides were separated. A large gap between the two, beyond the range of arrows, formed. Though their foes dealt a significant amount of injuries, they had not been able to fully beat them back.
Byleth watched the battle lines form warily. She didn't particularly have much experience fighting a traditional battle. Normally, she would lead a small enough group that she could direct each individual herself. This time, such a thing wouldn't be possible.
That they had to account for the fog still rolling around them, obscuring the view even more, was just even more of a hazard than she was entirely comfortable with.
Thankfully, the person leading them seemed to know what she's doing.
Catherine frowned as she joined Byleth at watching the other side, "We're going to have to attack soon, prevent them from regrouping any more than they have." Byleth already knew that. The enemy had the numbers advantage. Letting them get any momentum was a recipe for a bloody defeat.
"Can we afford it?" The only problem was that they had injured. A lot of them couldn't move, and they only had a handful of healers. Without protection, then those very same injured would be sitting ducks.
"No." The other woman was blunt, something that Byleth appreciated, "But we don't exactly have a choice. Unless you want to abandon our wounded?"
"Not an option."
"Good." In spite of the circumstances, Catherine laughed, "Had you said anything else, I would've struck you down on the spot." Her moment of levity over, she tilted her head towards the blue-haired woman, "I need you and your students to circle around the right flank. The fog is thickest there, they won't see you coming."
"And you?"
"Me and the men will meet them at the front and protect the others. Be a distraction. Your unit should be small enough that they won't notice you gone once the fighting starts. With any luck, we'll rout them once they're encircled."
"I understand." It was a sound, simple plan. A classical battle if Byleth had ever seen one. Except, she felt as if she was missing something. Something so important, that, as they were preparing for the flanking maneuver, she couldn't help thinking about it.
It wasn't until they were moving through the fog, the battle starting up in earnest between Catherine's garrison and the possible rebels, that she remembered.
They crossed the fog as quietly as they could. Herself, Sylvain, Ashe, Ingrid and Annette. The others were fighting with Catherine, having been deemed too recognizable to not see them fighting, along with Mercedes, who had to work alongside the other healers.
That was fine with Byleth. While the loss of numbers hurt, the fog would've made it harder to keep track of her students. In this instance, the fewer numbers was a blessing in disguise.
She'd be damned if she let something like fog become the reason her students got hurt.
As the sounds of battle escalated, they had managed to circle around the main field, behind the cover of a small hill. If she judged right, then the enemy should be just another minute or two of careful walking.
As was the case for most things, it didn't go as planned.
"Get down!" Ashe was pulled down by Sylvain as an arrow passed where their heads were. Byleth herself had already ducked, having been waiting for the other shoe to drop. A small group of soldiers, standing guard beside a dark-cloaked man.
A mage, if Byleth had ever seen one.
They were in the middle of casting a spell, for what purpose, she didn't know. Judging by how the fog conspicuously just didn't exist around them, she could give a fairly confident guess.
She didn't need to voice out her thoughts. The students were smart enough to figure it out, and indeed, she could see her students preparing their weapons, glaring in the direction of the mage.
The mage was unfazed. Byleth could imagine the man looking at them with disinterest behind his mask. The soldiers - more of militia or bandits now that Byleth could take a good look - shuffled themselves in between.
She gave a subtle nod to the side, and Sylvain slowly positioned himself. Another nod to the front. Ingrid made her way next to her. Her students knew by now what she wanted to do without telling them directly.
On it went, Byleth guiding their formation through her cues, without her eyes leaving the dark-cloaked figure. On the other side of the field, the mage didn't so much as tell his allies to do anything. In fact, it looked more like the men across from them were some of the most disorganized she's ever seen.
Hell, bandits were probably more organized than this.
The tension in the air was palpable as they inched closer, taking advantage of the confusion on the enemy side. Both sides were waiting for someone to make the first move. Byleth wanted to take advantage of that, strike while the enemy was still on the back foot.
Except, despite all of their men just looking around in confusion on where they should be, the mage was calm. There was no worry in how they stood, confident to the point of arrogance.
Byleth wasn't about to assume that that confidence was nothing. There had to be a reason. For all she knew, this entire thing was a trap that only the mage knew. Leaving it up to chance and rushing in would be a stupid decision.
Byleth wracked her head to think of a solution. She couldn't afford to let anyone here hurt, not when they didn't have a dedicated healer. They needed to neutralize whatever the mage without tripping whatever it was that made them so confident. They needed to flank around the main battle and strike the enemy commander.
There were a lot of things that she needed to do, and most of them weren't without risk. With a soft inhale, she tensed her legs, and, alongside her students, burst forward.
She wouldn't be able to coddle them forever. Her students were their own person, and she knew she had to be confident in their own ability to not get hurt. And, against most of their current enemies, none of them would be able to do much.
Only the mage was the real threat. And she was the one that was going to deal with them anyway, her students already parting the way and engaging everyone else. Byleth raised her sword just as she came within swinging distance. The mage hadn't moved, only stared at her as she did so.
Her sword was inches away from their neck when they suddenly lurched their hand sideways.
One of the soldiers had broken off from fighting Ingrid, and had made a beeline towards them. Byleth hadn't paid them any attention, what with the soldier still being a couple of meters away. What she didn't expect was, at the moment that the mage held out their arm, was for the soldier to be pulled by an invisible force towards her and the mage.
Directly into the path of her sword.
Her sword cleaved through the man's neck. The terrified eyes of the man were etched into her mind as she realized what had happened.
Somehow, using some magic, the mage had used a human shield. Unfortunately, as the thought came and went, being replaced by an anger she hadn't known, a gout of flame erupted right in front. The man who'd been inadvertently sacrificed couldn't even scream as the flames took him. For her part, she jumped away as quickly and as far as she could.
The mage put down their arm, an air of disappointment around them.
Byleth didn't hesitate to rush them down again.
This person couldn't be allowed to live. Whoever they were, they weren't just a mage. The type of person they were, to throw away the lives of others for a hint of an advantage, would stop at nothing to achieve their goals.
And with the fog rolling around them, she had a decent hunch that currently, that goal was to kill them all.
Her blade met air. Lightning struck the ground as she scrambled out of the way. She ducked and weaved as a bolt of dark energy came close to her head. Dust puffed up, as she sprinted forward and raised her sword.
She might've gotten them this time around. With the dust obscuring their view, the mage would not have seen her coming. She likely would've, had Sothis not suddenly screamed in her head.
"Behind you!"
She immediately dropped to the ground, trusting in the green haired girl's warning. A squelch. Something warm splashed on her head, before a thud.
She carefully raised her head, before freezing at the sight. The body of the mage had fallen to the ground. Blood pooled around them as they started twitching, their death throes a macabre sight. The fog had receded, and the remaining enemies were all looking terrified.
No, that wasn't right.
Their enemies and her students were all looking terrified. Byleth felt a pit in her stomach as she turned to look behind her.
There, on the small hill, a mound of still twitching corpses. No, not corpses. She could still see them yell out in terrified pain, lost limbs bleeding profusely. Limbs were thrown all over the place, arms and legs with trails going towards their owners. She took a surreptitious glance at the mage next to her.
Sure enough, he was now lacking an arm, and a strange, circular hole was present in their mask.
But that wasn't the part that had so effectively scared everyone.
Near the top of the hill stood none other than the Archer, a derisive sneer on his face as he was in the process of practically sawing off the arm of another soldier. Her blood boiled and quailed as she heard the whispers of the horrified men and women alike.
"Monster."
Commissioned by: Oliver vasquez
A/N: If you like what I do and want to support me, check out my P-atreon at P-atreon•com(slash)Almistyor.
And a special thanks to: Oliver vazquez, brutalcrab, Tassimo and Bradley Wynters.
