Chapter 62: The Battle for Fodlan Part 1

14th day of the Horsebow Moon 1181. Garreg Mach.

The day of the battle was at hand. Agarthan soldiers and clan warriors of Nemesis' followers had arrayed themselves in siege formation and were launching sporadic siege spells to probe the defences. Their main force was visible in the distance now, and it would not be long before they began their assault.

Byleth knew very well that static defences were not a great hindrance to Heroes' Relics. Nemesis had created a new entrance into the mountain pass of the western Oghma mountain range after all. His replica of the Sword of the Creator lacked none of the power the original was said to have in the stories that had been passed down through the ages, and it was wise to assume that the same held true for the other replicas. Of course, the original actually held more power when wield by someone their "donors" approved of, but they were on the other side of the enemy army, so the difference was mostly academic. A counter to the threat these replicas presented was needed on this side of the battlefield.

He thus proposed a temporary solution to the problem. "I will lead a sortie against the enemy forward position."

"Absolutely not!" said Seiros. "That is far too risky."

"We must do something. We cannot afford a weakening of the defences through regular siege spells. The threat posed by the Relic replicas is far too great for that," insisted Byleth.

The older woman gnashed her teeth. Sending her grandson into this kind of danger ran counter to her love for her family. What he had said was true, however. She was forced to admit that he was right.

"Very well, but do not overextend," she warned.

He nodded at her and affirmed, "I will not. It will be cavalry and flying troops only."

That statement did not stop her stomach from churning, but she was relieved that he showed sense. "Then go, and hit fast."

"I already told Father and Cichol to prepare the troops. We'll be moving out in a few minutes," he said in response.

As he left, Seiros stared at his back and contemplated the matter. The young man was being cheeky, and he had clearly expected to win their short argument. That cleverness of his was one of his greatest assets. It was also the source for much of her consternation. She could only hope that he would succeed in this gambit.

She was well aware that daring moves like this one were needed. The numerical disadvantage that existed between the two opposing armies could only be equalised by such attempts. The risks involved, however, were great. This sortie could not be allowed to end in failure.

The consequences of such an event would be crushing to morale and her personal feelings. Cichol and Byleth were central figures to the Church and its war effort. Losing them was unacceptable. On top of it was Jeralt as Vice-Captain of the Knights of Seiros. His loss, too, would have a severe impact on troop morale. Not only that, but she would be devastated if this came to happen. She had lost too much family to be able to bear their deaths as well.

So deep in her thoughts was she that she failed to spot the approach of another family member.

"Is the Professor mounting an attack?" asked a young-sounding voice.

She answered absentmindedly, "He is, Cethleann."

As she registered to whom the voice belonged, she stopped her last train of thought. Cethleann was not supposed to be here. Her place was to be at Zanado while the siege lasted. Cichol had been vehement about that. The foolish woman must have run off!

"Cethleann," began Seiros, "Why are you here? How are you here? I was under the impression that Cichol had given your minders explicit orders to not let you leave Zanado."

Cethleann huffed and said, "Then he should have appointed minders who listen more to him than to me."

Seiros conceded that point. The Duscurian honour guard who surrounded Cethleann nearly at all times viewed her with enormous respect. She had taken a shine to them and they to her; she spent a lot of time among them enriching their halls of healing. They were indeed more likely to listen to her than to anyone else.

"Be that as it may, I will not allow you to join the sortie," said Seiros.

This was a point she would not budge on. Cichol loved her too dearly, and so did the last daughter of Sothis. No amount of complaining would move her to let the younger Nabatean participate in this high-risk operation.

Fortunately for her, Cethleann shook her head and replied with, "That is not my intention. I wish to fight at my family's side, yes, but I am not so foolish as to think that I am made out to go on quick raids. Instead, I wish to offer my aid in the infirmary for now."

"I am relieved to hear that you're not running off into danger. Your help will be greatly appreciated by Professor Manuela," said Seiros.

Cichol's daughter smiler at her. "Wonderful. I will be making my way there. Please tell Uncle Indech and Uncle Macuil that I will visit them when time allows it. I would love to catch up with them."

"I hope that you will have the opportunity to do so. Sadly, I do not think that one will present itself until after the battle. Everyone is extraordinarily busy. I myself have duties to attend to," said Seiros.

"Then I shall leave you to it. Take care, Seiros," replied Cethleann.

"You as well."

As the younger Nabatean left, Seiros returned to her own tasks. The defences needed to be kept in order, and the path for troop rotation had to stay open at all times. The commanders and officers also needed to be put on shifts to facilitate a proper command structure around the clock. Even the best of the best could not stay awake indefinitely.

Speaking of the best, she thought as she eyed the gate of the outer wall, It is just about time.

As she finished that thought, horns blared. It was the signal to move out. Cavalry led by Jeralt and Byleth, who was sat astride a well-trained warhorse, thundered past her position. Cichol's wyvern riders also took to the sky. The sortie was now set to begin.

Seiros observed this with trepidation, but she let none of it show. To be in command meant to take risks, and she was in command of all the Church's troops. There was nothing that could reasonably be done about this. The troop action was going to take place whether she wanted it to or not.

What she could do, however, was to prepare her own attack forces. They would see little action in the sortie since they were being held in reserve, but the new Nabateans were a critical asset for its success. The power even a single Nabatean could bring to bear was enough to devastate small armies. Hundreds of them were overkill in most cases. The enemy was prepared for their presence, however. They possessed weapons and spells that had in the past slaughtered her people in droves. The pitfalls they presented had to be avoided at all costs. So, preparation was of the essence.

Seiros was fortunately not alone in this endeavour. While he was misanthropic and grumpy, Macuil was a true master of weapons and magic as well as a very skilled fighter. Together, the two of them could whip their recruits into shape.

When she reached the place where the Nabateans from Norweg had gathered, she took note that Macuil was not scowling. The slaughter of his kin over a thousand years ago had hardened his heart against humanity considerably. It had also made him grumpy and unapproachable even to his remaining family. It was probably the resurgence of Nabatean blood that made it so, but it was good to see him actually talking with others.

"Ah, Seiros," said Macuil as he took notice of her. "You look like you came to ask for help."

"Indeed. My grandson is currently undertaking a risky move. He is mounting an attack against the enemy forward elements bombarding our defences. The key to success is to take them out before the arrival of the main force. As you can guess, the window of opportunity is very small," explained Seiros.

Macuil huffed. "Bah, foolish humans. Although I have to admit that the situation warrants risky gambits. Do you want us to support the attack?"

She shook her head and told him, "No. Byleth has already left. There is not enough time for you to join in. What I want you to do is to cover his retreat once he was accomplished his task. Spells which can reliably harm Nabateans in one hit require a certain time to charge, so you should be safe if you keep moving out of their range."

"That sounds reasonable to me," said Beon, who stood next to them. He had been conversing with Macuil before Seiros' arrival.

The other man grunted. "Guess we've got no choice. This had better work out."

"It will. I have faith in Byleth," replied Seiros.

"Ugh, don't speak about faith to me, aunt. I prefer surety. Speaking of which, what are our allies up to? We need support, and fast. Even daring assaults won't save us against a host as big as our enemy's," groused Macuil.

The woman answered, "We are in constant communication with them through Professor Hanneman. The plan is for them to wait until our opponents begin the assault on our walls before they attack the enemy rear. Otherwise, we risk the enemy focussing on either our allies or us alone."

"We're playing the bait, then?" asked Macuil.

Seiros nodded. "Yes. That is part of the reason why Byleth is making his sortie."

"Well, it's a good start, at least. But what's the follow-up? What is the actual plan for the main battle?" he asked.

"I would like to know that as well," interjected Beon.

"It relies on the intervention of Mother and Hyperion," answered Sothis. "I will explain the details later, when there is time. For now, let us prepare.

At roughly the same time. Underworld, Palace City.

The Underworld was a busy place right now. Hundreds of thousands of people were working to facilitate the success of the intervention plan. Not only were many deities active to prepare and double-check the finer details of the divine powers that would be used, but the host of Einherjar that would accompany Sothis and myself on our journey to the world of the living. They posed a large logistical problem.

It was for this reason that the original plan had not included them. The idea had been for my dear beloved and I to show up, wipe the floor with the enemy and have a grand time afterward. The problem with that lay in the annoying tendency of our Agarthan enemies to find a place to hide and be an annoyance centuries later. To prevent this from happening, we needed a large force to hound them, hunt them down and eliminate them in their entirety. So, despite the organisational nightmare their participation in the operation caused, the Einherjar were coming with us.

Never mind that we would have had to endure millennia of their ceaseless bitching if they were to miss out on another battle for the fate of the world after they had been denied the first one.

This all led to where we were now, with Sothis and I briefing the Einherjar on the battle plan.

"Alright, folks, listen up," I began, "The plan is simple at its core: Wait for the battle to reach its height, then open the Gates of Valhalla and fuck up the enemy."

That course of action garnered dislike. One of the Einherjar voiced it, "Why would we sit around and wait for the battle to start without us?"

The others agreed, loudly so. It was a good question too.

"It is a quirk of Valhalla itself," said Sothis. "Its gates were only supposed to open for the battle at the 'end of the world.' That battle happened and the gates remained unopened. While this has made the conditions more flexible, it has also made them more specific. Odin has been working hard to enable their use in the battle for Fodlan, with as much success as he could get out of it. The whole thing is very complicated, but it means essentially that the Gates of Valhalla can only be opened during a battle which drastically alters the course of fate for the world."

I continued for her, "And then only at the moment when the balance of power shifts and a victor is about to be decided. The current fight for Garreg Mach Monastery applies just barely because of long-term consequences, so we have a window of opportunity, but it does mean that we'll have to sit out most of it."

We received a wave of dissatisfied grumbling from our audience, but it appeared they understood. The last few thousands of years they had spent fighting had not only sharpened their instincts but also their intellect. They were not stupid.

"Now then," I said, "Your main task once we arrive will be the complete eradication of all surviving enemy forces bar those engaged with Sothis. She has some personal vengeance to dish out, so your objective will be to take care of the unwelcome guests at her reunion with Nemesis."

"Will you be leading us?" asked one of the Einherjar.

I shook my head and said, "No. That will be one of you. I will be busy making sure that Sothis'… enthusiastic talk with Nemesis does not result in casualties on our side."

"I do have an excessive amount of frustration I wish to take out on him," she confirmed.

"So we only get the small fry?" complained the Einherjar.

I understood his frustration somewhat. It was kind of disappointing to prepare for an exorbitant amount of time, only to have one's carefully cultivated skills wasted on a menial task. The general in me had no sympathy, however. Easy, boring battles were preferrable. Nevertheless, it was cause for grumbling that needed to be addressed.

"It's better than nothing," I told them.

The disappointed sighs I received as an answer were to be expected. These warriors were clearly upset, but they knew they would not get anything more glamorous to do. Such was life, or in this case death.

"Ugh, fine," seemed to be the general consensus.

I was happy with that result. Anything that made the plan go along smoother was welcome in my book.

"Besides, when this I over, you can go challenge the warriors of Elysium again," I offered.

An amused scoff preluded the answer, "As if those ninnies stood a chance against us. Get the guys from the Isles of the Blessed to support them, and they'll actually pose a challenge."

That made me laugh, and I responded, "Alright, then. It's a deal."

The concession appeared to satisfy the Einherjar. Their grumbling subsided, and their looks were less grumpy now. I liked this development. Morale was important, after all.

"Now if you excuse us, there are more things to do before we can go. Make sure everyone is ready when the time comes. Farewell until then," said Sothis.

With those words, the two of us left to get everything in order. While we had very competent staff taking care of the minutiae and most of the logistics, there was indeed more for us to do. Some kind of action plan was needed, and we had one, but I also wanted to put the finishing touches on a bit of equipment I wanted to two of us to take along.

While I was happy with the armours I had forged for us and with the weapons I had made for myself, a back-up never hurt. The additional pieces of weaponry I wanted to bring to the battlefield were to be defensive in nature. Our offense was covered by our existing weapons and magic, but I had decided that more defence could never hurt. Although I was confident in my and Sothis' armours, I would never call anything an absolute defence. And thus, a new project was born.

An often-underappreciated part of a soldier's armoury was the shield. One could argue that improvements in armour technology and later weapons technology had made shields obsolete, but that was talk for quitters. Abandoning the source of options was a no-go for me. That did not mean that I would blindly go for the most obvious design and function. Any shield I would deem fit for Sothis and myself had to be held to the highest standards.

Naturally, such equipment required mastery of craftsmanship, and a lot of time. I was fortunately not the only smithing expert on hand now. Prometheus had volunteered for the project, and Hephaestos had taken the opportunity to join in as well. Soon, the smithy and workshop had been swarmed by additional helpers. It had turned into some sort of a prestige project, it seemed. The results, however, were going to be worthy of everyone who participated.

"They're beautiful," said Sothis after we had entered the forge and taken out the shields for inspection.

I agreed with that assessment. One of them, the one intended for Sothis, had a smooth surface and was light green, adorned with golden accents. The colours were meant to represent Sothis' love for nature and her pure soul. The shield was circular in shape and large enough in size to cover her forearm completely if she chose to wear it like that. Mine was a tower shield almost as tall as myself. It looked as though it were comprised of hundreds of small scales. Its colour was royal purple with no embellishments. Purple was the colour I associated with the soul, and with my strongest defence being my AT field, the association was simple to make.

The protection these shields brought were not as static as with their traditional counterparts. They were capable of projecting powerful shield spells. The master smiths who had been involved in their creation had also built in some amazing technological components, which enabled the things to be highly versatile. Each of them could move autonomously to protect their wielders and other designated targets. That way, both arms of the user were available for other things like weaponry or support equipment. The shields were truly marvels of craftsmanship.

"All that's left is the last step," I told my beloved.

The green shield came first. I put it in Sothis' hands and began binding it to her soul, thus finishing the process. I could not help but be a bit mischievous, though. So, I put a bit more oomph into the process than necessary as I performed the binding.

Her eyes widened in surprise. My touch on her soul was not very deep, but it was practiced, and I was pretty sure that she appreciated the effects my little prank had. At least, that was what I thought while she let out a rather lewd moan.

She caught herself after that and levelled me with an exasperated look. "Have you just groped my soul?"

I grinned at her and patted her head. The gesture no longer annoyed her – it had not for quite some time now – and it was an effective tool to get her to calm down when I had done something to upset her slightly.

"Neat, isn't it?" I asked rhetorically.

She snorted and hit my arm. "It was, but that's beside the point," she said. "You're going to make that up to me, are we clear?"

"Of course," I replied with a smile.

Sothis responded in kind and said, "Good. As compensation, I will have you practice that until you've got it down to absolute perfection once we're done with the current business."

"I can't imagine that others would view this as some sort of compensation or punishment," I said with amusement.

"Unlike me, others are not your lovers, and they're definitely not perverts of my calibre," she said as if it were the most normal thing in the world. "Besides, compensation doesn't have to be punishment, now does it? It's nonsensical to dole out punishment for something I enjoyed anyway."

"True, true," I said sagely. Then, I blinked. "How do we get sidetracked like this all the time?"

"Probably because the two of us are, as the saying goes, horny for each other," she replied in a deadpan tone.

"Can't argue with that," I said, "But back to business."

My focus now went to my own shield. I picked it up and tied it to my soul. Immediately, I felt it become an extension of myself. All its functions, abilities and specs were now as easy for me to see and use as a limb of my own body. It would serve as a truly valuable tool in the fight to come.

"Everything looks like it's in working order," I said. "Is it the same with you?"

Sothis took a moment to study her shield. "There seem to be no problems," she said.

"Excellent," I said.

Sothis hummed, then said, "I guess it is time for us to go and see what the others are up to now that our preparations are almost finished."

I agreed. "Yup. Since we've got a plan of operations going for the battle, it's just about time for something to go wrong. Let's see what kind of mess we have on our hands."

Several hours later. Pass of the eastern Oghma mountain range, near the allied army camp.

The plan had to be amended. Communication with Garreg Mach was maintained constantly, which was why the necessary information to come to this conclusion had been transmitted. The sortie Byleth had mounted had succeeded. The forward elements which had bombarded the outer defences of the Monastery had been smashed and the attention of the enemy main force had been drawn. The attack was soon to begin. The problem was that the enemy rearguard was nowhere to be seen. This meant that it had stayed behind. By extension, the planned attack on the enemy rear could not take place in the way that had been envisioned originally.

The leaders of the combined armies of Fodlan had come together to discuss their next move in that regard. The conclusion they had reached was unsurprising.

"We must attack immediately."

This message had been spread among the soldiers. The order to break down the camp followed it, and everyone was no gearing up to move out. Battle readiness would be achieved within the hour.

While many a common soldier was wondering what was going on, the officers knew why the decision had been made. Their enemies expected them to attack their rear. Seiros' plan to get them al to charge blindly at the fortifications of Garreg Mach had failed as well; only most of the undead and Agarthan forces had been drawn in. These factors combined into the situation they were dealing with now. Specifically, they now had enemy elements entrenching themselves. They could not be allowed to fortify their position any further.

The haste with which the army leaders urged their men and women to move was thus more than justified. Time was of the essence.

At the forefront of the effort were the Ashen Wolves and Jeritza. The former were experts at working together and getting out of tough situations while the latter was both more expendable and more bloodthirsty than the vital assets of the army. He knew these things well, which was why he had volunteered in the first place.

"If we fail Mercedes will die," had been his reasoning when the former House Leaders had questioned him.

Another reason for the presence of the Ashen Wolves in the vanguard was also that they were uniquely suited to channelling his destructive urges productively. Yuri's advice had worked wonders for his temper, and the young man felt calming to him. The others were reliable companions as well. They gave him a sense of companionship he had hitherto lacked in his life. He could think of no one better to accompany him on this dangerous task than them.

The danger of this operation was no excuse to be reckless. Jeritza had come to value his life again now that he had rediscovered its joys. He had therefore no intention to waste it blindly. He had even less intention to waste the lives of his new friends. If they had to die to fulfil the mission, then that was it. If it was avoidable, however, the mission would succeed without that sacrifice.

Filled with the determination to achieve that result, Jeritza inspected the assembled troops. When he was satisfied with the sight, he said, "Forward."

The soldiers began moving immediately. They were not all that fast because they were a mixed force of ground cavalry, infantry, and air cavalry. It would be some time before they reached charging distance. Troop cohesion had to be maintained at the very least until then.

"You're not very talkative, are you?" asked Hapi from beside him.

"No," he answered.

The redhead suppressed the urge to sigh. She was very tempted, but she had no wish to subject the army to monster attacks. It did nothing to lessen her annoyance.

"I figured," she said in a flat tone, "But do you have any plans, suggestions or ideas for the battle?"

Jeritza shook his head. "Yuri is better at that than I am."

"You're not wrong. Fine, I'll bug him about it and get back to you. Maybe he's got something special for you to do," she conceded.

The young woman the hurriedly rode off towards the centre of the vanguard. It was where Yuri's troops were located. She could have sent a messenger instead, but if he were to guess, Jeritza considered that Hapi was probably a bit jittery. He did not feel that way about battle – he had not done so in many years. However, he understood that almost everyone else had such feelings. Physical activity was one of the ways to distract oneself from them.

Barely a handful of minutes later, Hapi was back. Neither she nor her horse looked out of breath. Her nerves had not impacted her decision-making skills, apparently. Jeritza awaited the message she had gone to bring him.

"Yuri-bird says that you should let loose once the battle starts. Don't forget the signal to retreat, though. We're only supposed to provoke responses meant to target the guys with the Heroes' Relics. Getting smashed by those responses isn't on our to-do list," she told him.

Jeritza nodded in assent. That was reasonable. He would get to indulge the more violent of his impulses without being wasteful. He could live with that.

"Understood," he said.

Hapi hummed in satisfaction. "I should get back to my unit now. We'll hit the enemy position any minute."

Her assessment proved to be correct. No sooner had she returned to her unit, the enemy was spotted. A hastily erected palisade and half-dug trenches were in sight of the approaching force.

The decision to attack now had been correct. Had the allied army allowed the undead host to fortify their position any further, a breakthrough would have become far too costly to be viable. Delaying any longer was not an option.

"Charge!" ordered Jeritza once his cavalry was in position.

The Death Knight and the troops under him galloped towards the enemy. Their advance was swift and terrifying. Every single one of them was an elite knight. They had excelled in training and had distinguished themselves in combat so far. Facing them was a grim prospect.

Of course, they would still have been easy pickings by themselves. Fortunately for them, their charge was covered from the air by Constance and her flying troops as well as Hapi and her detachment of mounted spellcasters. There would be no lone charge today.

The clash occurred not long after the order had been given. The few among Jeritza's troops who were capable of it had cast magic to blast away the haphazardly constructed fortifications as best they could. The breaches were quickly exploited by the rest of them. The melee began in earnest then.

Jeritza's primary goal for this initial phase of the battle was to secure a zone behind the fortifications where the infantry could safely form up. Hundreds were trampled underfoot or slain by the weapons of the riders. Jeritza's charge was making good inroads toward his objective, but if his troops were to get stuck in protracted melee, things had the potential to get dicey. He had to rely on support in this regard.

Said support came from Hapi's elite casters. They blew holes in the enemy front line whenever his cavalry threatened to get bogged down. That was to their own detriment as the mages of the undead army could not be suppressed while they did that, but it was worth the effort.

Yuri's light infantry and mages arrived soon and formed up in the desired position. They had just enough room to assemble in a proper attack formation. Once they had done so, they moved forward, drawing the attention of the enemy mages toward themselves. With that, the initial phase of the battle was a success.

Hapi was now free to support Jeritza's rampage for the second phase. More space had to cleared for further reinforcements. So, the plan was to thin the lines with magic while Jeritza's melee cavalry mowed down the survivors of these disruptive attacks. Their overall goal was to become a big problem for the enemy.

Once Balthus and his heavy infantry arrived, that outcome was guaranteed. They were slow, but they packed an enormous punch. Even the rank and file were better than the standard, and the small War Master contingent were a devastating addition to their force. The swathe of destruction they cut through the warriors of Nemesis attested to that. Balthus himself added insult to injury there.

"Come and meet the invincible King of Grappling!" he shouted.

He drew attention to himself quite intentionally. He was known to be loud and brash, but he was also strong. That alone would have been enough for regular attention, but he needed to go a step further.

On his hands were the Vajra-Mushti. They were big, attention-grabbing engines of destruction. Whenever he swung them, they left dozens dead or severely injured. Few could withstand the force of a properly wielded Hero's Relic. It was not long before it drew the kind of attention the plan called for.

Once the fortifications had been overtaken completely, the seemingly unstoppable advance was met with heavy resistance. The somewhat tight space of the mountain pass was littered with a few areas which were wider than the rest, which made them ideal ambush spots. One such space was situated behind the now destroyed fortifications. Enemies descended on Jeritza's cavalry from all sides, and mages and archers began raining death upon his allies behind him.

A shrill horn sounded as this was happening. Jeritza identified this as the signal to retreat, immediately turning the direction of his force's movement. The cavalry veered off and retreated in full gallop under the cover of Hapi's mounted spellcasters. Said spellcasters quickly followed suit. Their retreat was covered by Yuri's light infantry, while his mages made sure to protect Balthus' troops as much as they could. The heavy infantry then pulled back as well once the line had been pulled back and re-established. Constance's troops were sadly not of much use beyond distracting a significant portion of the archers, but they played this role perfectly. The casualties of the ambush were thus diminished.

The enemy had played their hand, however. The reanimated warriors of old were now in full pursuit of the allied vanguard. The intent was to push them back beyond the initial fortifications, and that goal was close at hand. Naturally, this commitment came with the drawback that they had essentially given up their advantageous position. They had also been drawn towards the main body of the combined allied army. The ambushers were about to become the ambushed.

Waiting for exactly this sort of situation were Claude and Ingrid. The former shot the opening salvo, using the power Failnaught afforded him. The arrows he shot straight through their initial targets, those behind them, and then those behind even these. The rain of arrows his bodyguard unleashed also blanketed the reanimated warriors and covered Ingrid's advance. Her flying cavalry dove down, smashing into the enemy formation with great ferocity before diving back up. The young woman herself spread devastation with Luin in her hands. With that ended phase three of the battle plan.

Phase four was now set to begin. The opener was left to Lysithea, who used Thyrsus do send immensely powerful spells straight into the enemy centre. Backing her up were the mages of Adrestia and their commander Hubert. They wreaked havoc without regard for their own stamina. All that counted for the moment were impact and power. Their goal was to disrupt the formation of their undead opponents. It did not take long for that to happen.

"Forward! Crush them!" shouted Lorenz as he saw this happen. The order was nigh-instantaneously confirmed by trumpets from the command position.

His cavalry, followed by Leonie's and Sylvain's own detachments charged. They smashed through the disrupted enemy formation. To add insult to injury, Jeritza's and Hapi's troops followed in their wake. The combined might of their assault obliterated the enemy lines and divided them. The remaining undead warriors were left reeling.

The infantry followed up with their own advance. Resistance proved to be futile. The disorganised remnants of the reanimated army were beset by vastly superior foes. All opposition was quickly put down and silenced. Victory was achieved.

The soldiers celebrated, but the leadership was not at ease. This had been far too easy.

"Where are the resurrected Elites?" muttered Dimitri.

He was especially concerned about Riegan. The undead man and his host had once nearly attacked them when they had been camping in Aillel after the avalanche. His army had mysteriously retreated in a hurry shortly before the battle, however. They had been spotted joining up with the main army under Nemesis and Thales. So, it would have made sense to encounter at least him here, but he was nowhere to be found. It displeased Dimitri that he did not know where the man would strike.

Roughly the same time. Garreg Mach, second ring of walls.

Seiros' plan had simultaneously gone wrong and worked too well. While the reinforcements in the form of their allies were delayed by the defences in the mountain pass, the enemy was at the gates in force. To be more accurate, they had smashed said gates with overwhelming force and were now in the process of smashing their way through the remaining defences. Nemesis and Thales were not playing around anymore.

The Monastery garrison had their hands full with attempting to push back the breakthrough. It was hard. The walls had been shattered by the replica of the Sword of the Creator, and the wielders of the other weapon replicas had joined in on the assault. The only Heroes' Relics accessible to the Church right now were Thunderbrand and the Rafail Gem. While Catherine put up a valiant effort, she could not stem the tide, and Mercedes' support went only so far. It became clear that the outer walls could not be retaken at this point.

This left containment of the breach as the go-to option. Leading this effort was Captain Wolfgang. The heavy infantry he commanded was arrayed in reinforced shield walls. Behind them stood soldiers trained in Jeralt's team system, ready to slow down any enemies who managed to push through the initial defence. The effectiveness of this effort was dubious, however.

Fortunately, there was a factor that caused significant delay in the advance of the Agarthans and their undead allies. Almost every soldier had been granted a Dragon Sign. Wherever they had enough time to put up a proper resistance, the signs activated and allowed their possessors to do great damage to their enemies. Alas, delay was all that they could achieve.

As a seasoned commander, Wolfgang was more than capable of spotting this. He had to act while his lines of defence were in good order. "Retreat to the second ring!"

He was loathe to abandon the outer fortifications, but the frontlines had to be shortened. Overcommitting to a lost position would have been a fatal mistake. The enemy would have overwhelmed them with numbers before their elite troops even came into play. He had no choice but to pull back and trust in the Archbishop's plan for the defence of the second ring of walls.

Seiros watched this from the walls of the Monastery proper. A retreat such as this had been expected. With the overwhelming force arrayed against them, there was no other possibility. The response to it had been discussed at length beforehand, although she was very unhappy with it. Despite her misgivings, she knew it was smart to bait the enemy into revealing their hidden aces earlier rather than later.

For that purpose, she now committed part of her own. "Send in the first wave of Beon's people. Tell them to be careful."

Doing as she was bid, the messenger departed to relay the order. One of the horns Beon had chosen for his troops now sounded. He was beginning his attack.

The specific manoeuvre he was supposed to execute was meant to look like a genuine counterattack. For the purpose of doing so, he had chosen the quickest and most agile of his forces. The idea was to sweep in, wreak havoc and attract a lot of attention.

The plan was off to a good start. As a dozen tribesmen and -women transformed into their dragon shapes and took off, they drew a lot of attention. They dove down periodically, harassing and destroying any troop elements trying to pursue Wolfgang's retreating forces. The breath attacks they unleashed devastated entire companies of Agarthan and undead troops. Then the response came.

Ominous red lights shone from amidst the enemy troops. Before anyone could react, an arrow was shot from one of these lights, and Beon's unit was down one dragon. The unlucky soul fell to the ground and was promptly hacked to pieces by the red-glowing weapons of the Ten Elites, who had finally shown their faces. They were evidently here to hunt dragons.

The revelation of their position had come with a price, however. Everyone now knew where they were, which the Monastery garrison was quick to take advantage of. Enormously powerful spells were deployed on their positions, and the landscape surrounding them was devastated as a result. It was doubtful that any of the Elites were dead, but wounds were to be expected, and none of the soldiers surrounding them shared their fortune of being protected by the aura of a powerful, semi-divine weapon.

This prompted the Elites to join the main force in attacking the Monastery. Any more spells targeted at them hit only demonic beasts and Titanus war machines, which had been deployed by Thales to fulfil this task. As expected, the replica relics were highly effective at bashing in walls, even if these walls were reinforced by many spells. It was not long before they managed to create a breach in the second ring of walls, exposing the monastery town to attack.

This had also been expected by the defenders. The strategy had always boiled down to luring the enemy's strongest fighters into the confined space of the inner fortifications to deal with them. Here, they could be assailed from all sides despite their numerical superiority. It was a gamble, but it was the best option available.

More of Beon's people shot into the sky now. They attacked primarily the demonic beasts and the Titanus. These things were weapons capable of wiping out entire units by themselves, which could not be allowed, given the low number of defenders. That the dragons made themselves targets with that was obvious but unavoidable.

It was not the Elites who responded to the but Agarthan mages. They shot ominous spheres at the Nabateans. Whenever one of these spheres hit, the target lost all strength and fell to the ground. Any dragons that fell so were forcefully transformed into their human form and promptly killed by any soldiers near them. Unfortunately for the Agarthans, their accuracy was not all that great. Support from the Elites – especially Riegan or Gloucester – would have made it much easier for them to fight Beon's troops. Alas, the reanimated officers of Nemesis had another foe to contend with.

As soon as the Elites had stepped foot into the monastery town, they came into contact with a shining white figure. Byleth had immediately donned the Raiment of the First Principle upon spotting them near the walls, and now began his assault on them. He had no Hero's Relic or a replica thereof, but he had more than enough divine support to be a challenge to his foes.

That said, he knew that even he could not win against ten foes of their power in a fair fight. As such, he bombarded them with high-intensity light spears, using their explosive force to cover his movements. The blinding nature of his current form was another factor in this as well. It was thus possible for hi to advance deep into their ranks and pass by most of them. He did so in accordance with the first rule of dismantling a balanced enemy: Hit the healer first.

With four deft strokes of his sword of light, Lamine's head was removed from her body before she could react. The Rafail Gem replica she wielded had made it necessary to attack her most viciously to ensure her death.

In his quest to eliminate the Elites' healing potential, Byleth now focussed on Daphnel and Gloucester. The two of them stood close together and covered each other well, which was why he focussed all his offensive powers against them. This came with the obvious drawback of exposing himself to counterattack. His AT field held for some time as he chucked more and more spears of light into the fray. Eventually, he was forced to move, however.

He had wounded his chosen targets grievously in the short engagement, but his defences had suffered. The AT field was straining under the continuous attacks. He had to avoid the attacks of Goneril and Blaiddyd, lest his defence was shattered. The offense had to be renewed if Byleth wished to come out of this fight alive.

The former mercenary took advantage of his superior speed to close in on the healers while the melee fighters among the Elites tried to surround him. He slipped through a small gap between these and advanced to his designated targets. He could hear curses behind him as he swung a sword of light. The blade was elongated through the use of borrowed divine power, and it hit head where he wanted it to. Both Gloucester and Daphnel were now missing the top halves of their heads.

That was where Byleth's luck ran out, however. His success so far could be attributed to enemy space management. While the ordinary rank and file had wisely stayed away from this engagement, the Elites had still been too bunched up to unleash the power of their weapons. It was only a matter of time before they realised this and responded accordingly.

"Spread out, you morons!" Shouted Blaiddyd.

The Elites dispersed at the command of their unofficial second-in-command. As soon as they did, all of them activated their weapons. Ominous red lights shone now, and Dominic, who was closest to Byleth, unleashed the might of the Crusher replica in his hands. The hit missed Byleth due to his speed, but it unbalanced him. A shot from Riegan shattered his AT field and left him reeling. Dominic followed up and brought his hammer down on Byleth's head.

Before the hit could connect, the world was bathed in black, white and purple. The green-haired man had stopped time just before contact, using one of his very limited stock of Divine Pulses. He now rewound time for a renewed attempt.

This had drawn the attention of his headmates, who were still connected to him.

"Are you okay?" asked Sothis.

"The fight is hard. I need to stay focussed," replied Byleth.

Hyperion then asked an important question. "How many Divine Pulses have you left?"

"Two after this one," answered the Knight of the Covenant.

He threw himself back into battle. This time, he avoided Dominic's first blow by rolling forward, consequently also dodging Riegan's arrow. He then thrust his sword of light upwards, sliding it through the gap between breastplate and helmet on Dominic's armour. The sword penetrated the Elite's jaw, then his skull. Byleth rolled to the side even as the other man crumpled to the ground.

As he beelined for Riegan, whom he deemed the greatest danger of the remaining Elites, he was assaulted by Fraldarius. The woman was second on his list, and it showed. She made herself a supreme annoyance on her pegasus. Her weapon was ordinary, as it was her shield that was special, but it was still a deadly weapon. The distraction she caused allowed Rieagan to once again break his defence. Fortunately, Fraldarius' lance could not penetrate the Raiment, but Riegan's next shot did, piercing his throat.

Time was rewound once more as Byleth was able to activate Divine Pulse before death set in. He was running out of chances, and he needed to revise the plan of attack.

Riegan was too well-protected to take out, but attacking him was the way to go to eliminate the closest threat. As time resumed, Byleth repeated the initial steps of his previous attempt. Once he perceived Fraldarius' nearing presence through his helmet's sensors, he changed the approach. He quickly sidestepped to her left and, while he sliced at her with his sword, stuck a spear of light in her pegasus as she flew by. The blade hit her jugular veins on one side of her neck while the spear gravely wounded her mount. They crashed and slid some distance due to their speed. The same speed had also allowed Byleth's attack on the woman to be lethal despite her shield. The spear of light then exploded as was usual for one of its kind. If she had not been dead already, the explosion would have finished off Fraldarius.

By that point, another arrow from Failnaught's replica hit him. The AT field broke down once more. Byleth could have rewound time again, but that would have undone the death of Fraldarius. This was a clear disadvantage. The risk had to be taken in spite of this. At least now the path to Riegan was more or less free.

He never got there, however. An enormous wave of power washed over the monastery town, splitting it in two. Byleth had to use his last Divine Pulse just to escape being hit by it. He narrowly avoided it on his second attempt, but he was still caught in the shockwave. His body was thrown through the air, and he landed in the rubble of the partially destroyed town.

When he got his bearings again, he tried to find the source of the attack. It was not that hard to find as it approached him directly now. The heavy boots, the grey head of hair, the muscular frame and, the distinctly shaped black weapon in his hands were all clear indications of who it was that had struck him. A bit further away from him than the other Elites now stood Nemesis.

Byleth was out of options now. Exhaustion was mounting, and he was out of Divine Pulses. This was not a fight he could win. Sadly, he could not escape either, or the Elites would spread out to cause even more destruction. There was no clear path for him to choose.

Fortunately, there were those who had made preparations for many worst-case scenarios. And thus, he saw words appear in his vision.

"Administrator command received. Activating contingency protocol #2. Armageddon-Lazarus contingency is in effect."

Then, his vision grew dark and he lost consciousness.

AN: Greetings, my dear readers! Welcome to the first part of the ultimate showdown. I hope the chapter has been to your tastes.

There is a bit more action than usual going on here. I actually had a bit of a fright writing all of this because I discovered a major plot hole while writing the last section of the chapter. Many of you will likely have noticed it before in previous chapters. I tried to plug it, but it's pretty inelegant, I have to admit.

In any case, the battle to decide the fate of Fodlan has begun. The allied army is late to the party and Byleth has his hands full with the VIP guests. Perhaps a bit too full, even. Fortunately, Hyperion and Sothis gave him a party surprise for them.

Next time, we will reach the conclusion of the main story, and perhaps the immediate aftermath. After that, there will be two, maybe three epilogue chapters. And after that, I will introduce my next project.

Here now my obligatory thanks to everyone who has followed, favourited and reviewed. I appreciate the support you've been giving me immensely.

With all that said, have a good day, and until next time. Stay happy and healthy, everyone!