Arthur awoke to the sound of grass being trampled by slow-falling steps. Hurriedly shaking himself out of his sleep-addled stupor, the outlaw pushed himself up to his knees, drawing his Schofield from its holster in one smooth motion and aiming it at the intruder from the hip, ready to be fan-fired.

"Good morning, Arthur."

He coughed, putting his pistol away. "Mornin'. Least you took my advice about making noise."

Byleth sat down on her knees next to him. "I do not want you to think I am your enemy." She said. "I've a favour to ask."

He grumbled, massaging his face. "How the hell did you know where to find me, kid?" He glanced around, finding the secluded lakeside area he had camped for the night still blanketed in darkness. "Jesus, what time is it?"

"I looked for your tracks and followed them like how you showed me. And it's two hours until sunrise," The girl replied. "Will you help me?"

"That depends," Arthur gently collapsed on his back as he tried to steady his breathing. "This is the part where you tell me what you need help with, ain't it?"

"It is about a contract, one that has been up for almost two moons, but so far no one has claimed, not even by mercenaries from other companies." She said.

Since the past two weeks, Arthur had been on a few contracts himself. After completing a few guarding or escorting jobs for merchants and influential commoners here and there, he had managed to save up for his own set of light plate armour to be commissioned from a smithy he had visited in the city of Macha, in Gloucester lands... he only had to wait a few more weeks before it was ready. He thought about using some of the money he got from Jeralt for contributing to Isadora Berling's demise, but he figured it was smarter to sit on a stash of gold in case he needed it for something urgent, like a wagon full of bullets, or a trip back to America, or something.

"Did you have to ask me to help you?" The outlaw asked, knowing that many of the mercenaries would jump at the chance to have Byleth do all the fighting for them and get paid as though they contributed anything.

She nodded. "Yes. I could have asked the others instead, but I feel you are the only one I could trust to not need my protection."

"If that's the case, then why not ask a bunch of other fellers? Take one man and he may need protecting, but take five men, and they can protect themselves."

"That... is not possible," She said, as though confused at how Arthur hadn't already agreed to help her. "The contract stipulates only two mercenaries are required for the job, as it requires discretion in the extreme. Any more, and our presence is likely to invite scrutiny from unwanted parties."

"Oh." Arthur pulled himself up to sit with a grunt, his ribs flaring in pain. "And where does it say we're headed to?"

"We are to meet with a contact in the hamlet of Cormac, which is within Empire borders, in Duke von Aegir's domain. From there, we will be informed as to where to go next."

"Who are we expected to fight? I mean, I'm assumin' this is one of those "go there, kill them, get paid" kinda jobs."

"We are expected to encounter "great danger" involving a den of multiple ex-mercenaries who turned to banditry. For this reason, the contract also demands talented and seasoned contractors unafraid of protracted fighting in close-quarters. I think we fit the decription."

"Sure, sure. I've heard it all before. But what about the pay? Can't forget about the pay."

Byleth didn't answer immediately. "There is none."

Arthur coughed. He would have laughed if his ribs weren't hurting. "Now that's great. I can see exactly why nobody wants this job."

"Let me clarify — there will be no immediate payment." The girl said. "Those behind the contract specified that after completing their objectives, they promise to provide a "very generous sum" twice in a year, along with a favour. From whom, it is not written."

"That supposed to make your contract more appealing, Ms. Eisner? 'Cause it still ain't." Arthur sighed. "A two-man job for the best of the best, involvin' risk to life and limb for the promise of payment... and from a contact who's too much of a coward to drop a name. Sounds like a waste of time, if you ask me."

Byleth blinked. "I am not interested in the job because of the monetary reward. Unlike most contracts, this one is up front about the significant risks involved. It guarantees an uphill battle, which is not something one would put in the contract description, if one expects mercenaries to claim it. This is a contract for those wishing to be challenged."

Arthur scratched his beard. "You're... in it for the challenge?" He furrowed his brows at her. "But why?"

"I wish to get better," Byleth said. "I would like to try out the firearm techniques we went through, but in a true combat scenario." When Arthur's expression remained skeptical, she sighed. "I admit, I would also like to bring you with me so you can help me improve even further. Will you take this contract with me, Arthur?"

Arthur groaned. Even back in America, he could never resist an earnest plea for help, even to his own detriment. "Fine... I guess someone has to keep an eye on you. If it ain't Jeralt, it may as well be me."

After some breakfast for both of them courtesy of the boar Arthur brought down the previous day and some quail eggs he found, Byleth helped Arthur pack up his things before they rode out, back to Jeralt's camp. Arthur took his foul-tasting medicine and downed an entire pot of coffee on the short ride back.

"Commander Eisner, Mr. Morgan! Welcome back." One of the sentries at the gate hailed them as they approached.

"Hello."

"Yeah, g'mornin'..."

They stopped near Tekla's tent. Arthur dismounted and unhooked a bag hanging from his mount's saddle. "You go on ahead, kid, I'll catch up. I gotta check up on a few things and drop this off with Ms. Schneider."

Byleth nodded and rode onward without a word.

Entering the medical tent, for once, Arthur couldn't find Tekla on her usual spot. Shrugging, he dropped off the bag of herbs on her desk and made his way to his bed, where Buell's saddle was placed next to. He quickly checked how much ammunition he had left in the saddlebags and frowned at what he found. He had been burning through his revolver munitions at a faster rate than he realised, and by his estimate, he would be out of bullets for his revolvers within months, if he kept up his current rate of consumption. Still, the amount of rifle, pistol, and repeater rounds he had stashed away in the armoury were plentiful, and his significant cache of shotgun munitions remained untouched in the twenty-eight days he had been in Fódlan. While Arthur was aware of how he must eventually find a way to acquire fresh munitions, he saw no reason to worry about being forced to rely his bow or to take his sword training with Byleth with actual seriousness... at least for the time being.

After some time, Arthur had caught up to Byleth next to Jeralt's tent. She stood outside, clearly waiting for him to show up.

"Is everything alright, Mr. Morgan?" She asked him, as soon as he reached her.

"Yeah, was just thinkin'. How would you like to use a different gun?"

Byleth tilted her head, eyes shining in interest. "I would like to, of course, but..." Her shoulders slumped a little. "Do you think I am ready? You recall that I am only able to land my shots against stationary bottles, and only half the time at that."

"Hey, don't worry about it," Arthur put a hand on her shoulder. "By now, you know how to safely handle a gun, reload it, disassemble it, and put it back together. You already know more than most of the yokels I come across back home. So what if you ain't hitting as often as you'd like? That just means I have to pick up the pace with your training."

He smiled encouragingly. "You're ready, Byleth. Trust me, you'll like what I got in mind." He gave her a pat on the shoulder before gesturing ahead. "Jeralt's waiting. Come on, let's get this over with."

Byleth let out a breath, looking at him with grateful eyes. "Okay."

Jeralt seemed to have been waiting for the two of them to enter, the way he was seated on his desk. He must have heard them speaking outside. "Well, now this is a complete surprise." The older man said, his sly smile undercutting his words. "At this time of the day, people come up to me for contracts. What kind of crisis do we have that warranted an intervention from you two?"

"The Cormac contract," Byleth was quick to answer. "We would like to claim it."

"Oh." This time, Jeralt's surprise appeared genuine. "That one. Well, I suppose if someone's finally going to get it done, it may as well be you and Arthur. I'm a bit unsure about the reward being offered, but I think that's not what appealed to you about this contract, isn't it?"

"No, father. I would like to improve my aptitude with firearms in combat." She said.

Jeralt turned to Arthur. "And you, Mr. Morgan, what do you feel about this contract?"

"It's a waste—" He coughed to mask the slip of his tongue. "Ehum, someone's gotta look out for Ms. Eisner. Nobody else was offering, so here I am, I guess."

Jeralt nodded. "Good enough for me. I'll send a letter to the contact as soon as possible — let them know their contract has been claimed and they can expect you to show up in Cormac in a day or two. You and Byleth should take a full load of gear for this one, if what it says about close-quarters fighting and ex-mercenaries are true."

While Byleth had already prepared for their journey beforehand, Arthur stopped by the armoury to restock on munitions. He also dropped his Litchfield for a pump-action shotgun, and picked up another shotgun for Byleth. Finally, he asked Bernhardt for a warbow and a bundle of arrows, as well as a horseman's handaxe with a reinforced wooden haft, which he was happy to provide.

"Here," Arthur handed the second shotgun, a sighted, double-barrelled shotgun, to Byleth on her horse. "Careful with that thing, it's loaded."

Byleth inspected the gun and aimed down its sights. Arthur was pleased to see her keep her finger off the trigger. "I have never seen this one before. Its mechanisms are unfamiliar."

"I'll let you get the hang of it tomorrow morning after we make camp." Arthur climbed up his saddle and mounted his steed. "Right now though, we should be heading out. You ready, miss?"

"If you are, Mr. Morgan."

...

...

The ride to Cormac started on a good note thanks to the pleasant weather and clear skies above. Along the way, both to pass the time and to gain more insight about the lands he had been forced to roam, Arthur asked Byleth about the Empire, and the forces running it. Apparently, the Adrestian Empire was one of the three major powers in the continent, and was the most powerful and influential. As for their destination of Cormac, it was an unremarkable hamlet populated by unremarkable people, governed by a mayor who answered to a count, whom in turn answered to a duke. This duke was a man named Ludwig von Aegir, and from what Byleth told Arthur, the most powerful noble in the Empire.

"Popular belief among his subjects is that the man is either incompetent, a tyrant, or both. Life for the ordinary commomer is a challenging one under his rule." Byleth said to Arthur. "Time and time again, the man has proven himself to be greedy and arrogant, even compared to other nobles."

"Any chance he's the one behind this contract of ours?" Arthur asked.

"It is possible, but not likely. Duke von Aegir's influence over the Imperial Army is vast — he would not bother hiring the likes of us if he wanted to solve a problem with violence."

"Then with luck, we could forget about him and get back without so much as seeing him, or anything related to him."

Just before nightfall, they stopped on a grassy spot next to a stream, in a place called Gronder Field, according to Byleth. Arthur kept an eye on the perimeter as he helped Byleth set up her tent, and continued to do so as she helped her with his. He then set up a smokeless campfire with which he could cook provisions and brew coffee.

"I hope you do not mind if I am not one for conversation," Byleth said as she watched Arthur cook venison steaks over his portable grill. "I find it difficult to... make small talk."

"Wouldn't you know, I also prefer the quiet." Arthur said. "Makes it easier to—" He coughed. "To hear if someone's coming."

After eating, Arthur drank some coffee and told Byleth he will take first watch. His tobacco withdrawal symptoms were just beginning to fade, but he still found it hard to go to sleep. Thankfully, Byleth didn't argue and simply went to her tent, after which Arthur paid her no more mind and began his watch.

The night proceeded quietly. Besides guarding their camp, Arthur passed the time by sitting next to the fire and filling out his journal. After that, he prepared their supplies for their journey come the morning. His watch lasted until he started feeling tired. When he went to check on Byleth, he found her already standing up, her sword by her side and wide awake.

"Did you even sleep at all?" He asked her.

"Enough for now." She said, nodding. "Your turn to rest, Arthur."

With Byleth having taken over his watch, Arthur went to his tent and tried to get some sleep. He was tired enough that he found himself drifting off into the darkness more easily than expected.

When he awoke, a look at his watch told Arthur it was two hours until sunrise, which suited him just fine. Feeling as refreshed as he could be, he left his tent and found Byleth standing next to the nearby stream, drying her hair with a towel. She had clearly just finished getting dressed after washing herself.

"You better clear off, kid. I'm gonna need a bath, too." He called out to her.

Byleth didn't seem to have expected him to be awake this early in the morning, if her surprised reaction was any indication. "Ah... yes, I'll be in my tent."

Arthur took a second set of clothes from his saddlebags and went for a quick bath. The water was freezing, but that never bothered him before. As soon as he was dried and dressed, he put some more wood into their campfire and began to serve up breakfast and another pot of coffee.

By the time Byleth had emerged from her tent, she found a plate full of baked beans and bacon with a side of vegetables already served up for her.

"Here, I fixed this up for you," Arthur told her as she sat next to the campfire and took her plate. "We got ourselves a long day ahead. Here's hoping by midday, we'd have met our contact and got on with what we came out here for."

Byleth stirred her food around her plate, as though observing it first. "You seem to have everything planned."

Arthur sipped from his cup of coffee and started taking spoonfuls out of his own plate. "I just don't like all this... ambiguity. I reckon the sooner we get to talk to this contact, the better." He frowned when he looked at her and noticed her eating slowly. "Eat your breakfast, missy. After this, I'm teaching you how to shoot a shotgun."

Byleth said nothing, but she was noticeably quicker to finish her plate that time.

After breakfast, Arthur waited for the first rays of sunlight to arrive before he had Byleth retrieve her new gun. They went into the nearby woods, where Arthur set up an impromptu shooting range with a couple of tree stumps, a fallen log, and several empty cans and bottles he had been collecting in one of his saddlebags.

Arthur unstrapped his shotgun and aimed at a group of cans he had clustered together. "You paying attention, kid?"

Byleth nodded wordlessly, which Arthur took as his cue to open fire. His buckshot shattered the silence of the woods, sent the cans scattering backwards at high speeds, and took a sizeable chunk out of the stump they were once atop of.

Arthur pumped the shotgun, his hand quickly darting to snatch the spent cartridge out of the air as it was ejected from the chamber. "That, is what a shotgun does to its target."

Byleth stared at the damage the firearm did to the stump with wide, concerned eyes. "It is... devastating." She looked at the double-barrel in her hands. "I hope I can land my shots."

Arthur pocketed the cartridge. "I loaded that thing with buckshot. When you shoot it, tiny metal fragments spread out of the barrel. Because of this spread, you should have an easier time getting your shots in, but you'd do well to remember what I taught you when shooting revolvers."

Byleth nodded slowly. "Okay. I'm ready."

"Great. Now, aim downrange like I did, with the butt of the gun up against your shoulder." Arthur watched her adjust her stance to mimic his. "That's good. Remember this, 'cause shotguns tend to have a kick like a mule. And remember, your feet should be around shoulder-width apart, and flex your knees a little. Don't want to lose your balance when the recoil bounces into you."

Byleth breathed in and out, then adjusted her stance further with his instructions in mind. "Okay."

"Attagirl. If you're ready to shoot, look down the sights and pick your target. Breathe in, and breathe..."

Byleth pulled the trigger. Her shot obliterated a bottle and sent a can tumbling in the air.

"Well done! Got it in one." Arthur nodded his head, smiling proudly. "Try to land another shot. Try that one there, the one further ahead from the others."

Byleth's next shot also hit, but only just. Still, judging from her pleased half-smile, she seemed happy with her new gun, and that she could be reliably accurate with it.

Arthur taught Byleth how to reload the shotgun and gave her a bunch of shells before he had her use them on the rest of the targets he set up. She continued to reliably land her shots, only scoring glancing hits or missing outright every so often. When Byleth ran out of shells, Arthur gave her some more before they moved on and returned to camp. Packing up was a simple affair, and it wasn't long before they were on the road again.

"Don't think we're finished with target practice yet, kid!" Arthur shouted behind his shoulder after quickly putting some distance between his horse and Byleth's. "Get your shotgun ready!"

"Mr. Morgan?" Byleth's voice came out in a surprised, questioning tone, but her shotgun was already in her hands.

Arthur took out another empty can from his saddlebag. Without another word out of his mouth, he launched it forwards and up into the air as hard as he could.

Byleth seemed to instantly realise what Arthur wanted her to do. Letting go of her reins and using her knees to steer her horse, she took aim up in the air and fired on the airborne can. Predictably, she missed, but she was quick to readjust and fire another shot.

Again, it missed.

"Reload, I've got another!" Arthur yelled, digging out another can.

They continued the exercise until Arthur ran out of cans and bottles to toss. The girl growled in frustration at missing most of her shots this time, but Arthur noticed how she started becoming a little more accurate halfway through the exercise, and he was quick to point this out.

"I must strive to do better, nevertheless." She said, lowering her gun dejectedly.

"Don't be like that," Arthur tried to be encouraging. "You're getting better at this, believe me. Do you know how hard it is to nail a small, moving target from a distance with buckshot? Not goddamn easy, let me tell you. You should be proud."

That seemed to lift her spirits.

After some time, an hour before midday, they had arrived at the outskirts of Cormac. If Arthur had any doubts about Byleth's story about Duke von Aegir's treatment of his subjects, they were gone as soon as his horse strode past the main gates. The hamlet did not appear to be obviously failing, but it was neglected and destitute, with abandoned dwellings, weatherworn infrastructure desperately in need of maintenance, and inhabitats who look like they had been only eating one meal a day. The place looked like Van Horn, only much more pitiful.

"The contact should be waiting for us in that tavern," Byleth pointed at one of the less run-down buildings. Indeed, compared to the rest of the settlement, the "Hungry Wyvern" looked downright opulent. "Should we proceed?"

"Yep, let's hitch our horses outside and get out of this stink." Arthur agreed, grimacing.

Compared to the gloominess of the rest of the hamlet, the Hungry Wyvern's atmosphere was markedly lively. Almost all of the tables inside were occupied by patrons of varying degrees of inebriation, and the sound of singing and carousing was defeaning, forcing Arthur to yell to be heard,

"I don't wanna sit around and wait for the bastard to come to us! Not in this shithole!" He said to Byleth. "Stick close, we should ask the bartender!"

Byleth ignored the drunken hollering and cat-calling directed at her as she stayed within arm's reach of Arthur.

"What'll it be... strangers?" The bartender, a man so old, he looked to be mere seconds from stepping into the afterlife, wheezed as Arthur and Byleth approached his counter. Behind him, servants and kitchenhands could be glimpsed around what looked like a rather cramped kitchen area.

"We're mercenaries from Jeralt's company," Arthur said. At least it was quieter there. "We're, uh, out here for a job."

"This one." Byleth procured a rolled-up parchment from her travelling satchel and showed it to the old man.

"We was told there would be a contact... someone who'd be waitin' for us here." Arthur continued.

The bartender leaned forward and squinted. After a while, he stretched back and shook his head. "I don't know... anything... about this... I'm afraid. If you want, you can... find yourselves... a table and stay a while. I'm sure... your contact... will get to you... shortly."

Another drunk dared to put his hand on Byleth's shoulder. "Hey there, pretty girl, why don't you let me buy y—"

Swifter than Arthur could react, the girl seized hold of the drunk by the face and slammed it down, into the counter. Blood sprayed over the counter's surface as a few loose teeth clattered against it.

No one seemed to notice this besides Arthur and a few nearby patrons. Even then, the patrons were quick to disregard what they just saw to get back to their carousing.

"We ain't the type to drink on the job," Arthur said, turning aside. "Let's get the hell out of here, miss."

Byleth followed after him without a word.

Outside, Arthur and Byleth stepped into the sight of their horses in the process of being unhitched by a small group of the hamlet's inhabitants. Arthur scared them off by aiming his bow at them.

"That... was uncomfortable." Byleth said.

Arthur put away his bow, coughing. "I'm sorry, kid. Looks like this was a waste of time after all."

"You are the mercenaries I was told to wait for?"

Arthur stilled at the sound of a voice coming from behind, from where they left the tavern. Slowly, he turned around, coming upon the sight of a young man wearing a black hooded cloak trimmed in red, his face obscured in shadow. He was wearing an unadorned suit of plate armour over chain, and the cut of his clothes that weren't covered in armour were fine in make. Too fine, Arthur thought.

"And who would you be?" Arthur asked, his gloved hand sitting atop his holstered Schofield.

"I am the one you were looking for. Thank the goddess you are here," The contact said. Arthur couldn't help but notice how white his teeth were, the way they glinted from the darkness of his cloak. "Come with me. I will provide you with all the details you wish to know, once we put enough distance between us and this place. I cannot stomach all this misery any longer."

"You and me both, partner."

"I agree."

After Arthur and Byleth got back on their saddles, their contact led them out Cormac.

"I almost thought no one would bother to take my contract," The shrouded young man said, as they entered an empty, deserted field. "Perhaps I demanded too much, or put too much emphasis on the danger involved. It could be that I was honest about the fact that I cannot give a reward immediately after our business is concluded."

"It as though you put up a contract with the express purpose of leaving it unclaimed in perpetuity." Byleth spoke up.

"Alas, it is not in my nature to mislead others." The contact said, his armoured shoulders sagging. "What we will do will be dangerous in the extreme, and indeed, I will not pay you once we are done... at least, not immediately. My expenses are being monitored, and my father will know if I paid for mercenaries this moon. It will be our undoing if he is to discover my dealings with you."

Arthur furrowed his brows in confusion. "Hold up a second, friend, you was talking a lot of nonsense. Did you just say "we"? Does this mean you're comin' with us? And your daddy — what makes him such a big deal?"

Byleth was staring intently at the contact, her hands gripping the reins of her steed tightly. "Arthur, we are dealing with someone very important here. This is—"

"I am Ferdinand von Aegir." The contact said, lowering his hood. He was a ginger-haired youth with unusual orange eyes. Ferdinand was well-groomed and well-dressed, with an unblemished, innocent-looking countenance, though it appeared marred by how tired and disturbed he came across. "I wish we met under different circumstances."

"Arthur Morgan. Pleased to meet you, I guess."

"My name is Byleth. Greetings, Lord Ferdinand von Aegir."

"Honoured to make your acquaintance." Ferdinand bowed stiffly. In other times, he might have done it more gracefully, but Arthur could feel something was eating away him. "I have been following the trail of a group of villains. Soon enough, we will strike at them at their lair. Please, let me know when you are ready to proceed."

Arthur's face scrunched up at the noble. He fought down the urge to argue against letting what he thought was a delicate, inexperienced teenager join them in combat. He made that mistake with Byleth, he would try not to do it again with Ferdinand until he actually saw what he was capable of.

"Just know that this ain't some kind of grand adventure we're getting ourselves into, boy." Arthur said, leaning against his saddle. "Neither of us would want to have to spend every fight tryin' to protect you. That sort of thing's liable to get all of us killed."

"On the contrary, Mr. Morgan, I know exactly what I am getting myself into," Ferdinand said, a determined gleam burning in his weary, drooping eyes. "This is a dangerous group of fiends we are pursuing. What I learned about these men over the weeks all point to them being from a company of experienced mercenaries before they turned to brigandry all the sudden. Among their many crimes include the murder of nobles and commoners alike, and the abduction of dozens upon dozens of children."

With that said, Ferdinand put two fingers into his mouth and blew a sharp whistle. Within moments, a magnificent barded warhorse crested over a knoll and trotted over to its rider, who expertly climbed atop his saddle.

"And please, do not worry about my combat abilities." The noble said. "I have trained to fight with lances, swords, and axes my whole life, and for the past moon, I have spent most of my time in the training hall, preparing for this exact occasion. My tutors have been cursing me for neglecting my other studies, but I find myself not caring for history, statecraft, and courtly manners at a time like this."

"I do not think we can convince him to be left behind, Mr. Morgan." Byleth said to Arthur, her voice low.

"He might surprise us," Arthur whispered back, before returning to address Ferdinand. "Alright then, kid. You asked for mercenaries? Well, here we are. Which way are we headed?"

...

...

Arthur and Byleth rode after Ferdinand as he led them back east, where they originally travelled from. With Gronder Field in sight, Arthur took the time to fish out some more information from their noble contact.

"So your father's some kind of duke in the Empire, right?" Arthur began as soon as his horse matched strides with Ferdinand's. "You was sayin' he wouldn't be happy to hear that you hired mercenaries... well, I don't get it. Shouldn't he be glad we're gettin' rid of lowlives in his land, making his territory safer and y'know, doing his job for him?"

"If only it were as simple as you say," Ferdinand looked down, shaking his head. "It fills me with shame to even say it, but these brigands, Mr. Morgan, are under the employ of my father. That is to say, it is he who is the cause of everything these monsters had inflicted upon the people residing within almost every corner of his domain, and even in the Alliance."

Just as Arthur thought his opinion of Duke von Aegir couldn't get any lower, the man found another way to become even more despicable, which was impressive for someone he hadn't even seen in person. "Jesus. That's a hell of a thing, kid."

"Indeed," Ferdinand nodded gravely. "I had just recently discovered that he was corrupt after being blind to his follies my entire life, which was one thing. But the fact that Father also paid criminals to prey on his own subjects, murder defenseless nobles, and kidnap children... it confuses and enrages me in equal measure. For what reason could he do such a thing?"

He ran a gauntleted hand through his coiffed hair, his orange eyes darting this way and that. "I intend to find out what it is, either before, or after we put these brigands to the sword."

"I doubt it's because he thinks it's for their own good," Arthur coughed. "For what it's worth, I think it's mighty brave of you to try and do something about what your father's been up to. Takes more courage than you think, to turn your back against your own, so you can do what you think is right."

Ferdinand smiled wanly at that, though he opted to stay quiet, his sights fixed to the road ahead.

By the time they had to stop and set up camp for the night, the three of them had ridden through most of Gronder Field. Their destination, as Ferdinand had told them, was an abandoned Imperial fortress in the Hrym territory, which was just another day of travelling away.

In the evening, they had chosen a defensible, slightly-elevated spot at the foot of a mountain to settle down. Arthur had a feeling he would have to set up Ferdinand's tent for him, but by the time he finished helping Byleth set up her own tent and went to check on the boy, Ferdinand had just finished setting up a basic lean-to tent, and was already unpacking his supplies.

Shrugging, the outlaw went to work on the campfire.

After some time, with their camp set up and ready for use, the three of them began to wind down for the night. Arthur started working on their dinner, Byleth sat on the grass and waited with her plate, while Ferdinand sat on his knees across her and stared into the fire in between them.

"Are you alright, Lord Ferdinand?" Byleth spoke up, after a while.

Ferdinand didn't seem to hear Byleth the first time. He visibly snapped out of his stupor when one of the twigs in the fire broke apart with an audible crack.

"I am well, thank you. Please, you two may call me by Ferdinand." He said. "I have been thinking about... about my life for the past few weeks. Forgive me, but I have recently spent many nights without rest."

Arthur applied some salt and herbal seasoning into their salmon steaks. "You sure you're up for the first watch, then? I won't mind you sleeping in, if it meant you won't be exhausted in a fight."

"Thank you, Mr. Morgan, but I must decline." Ferdinand held up a gauntleted hand. "It is not very noble for me to simply pawn this task off to either of you. Not to worry, I will be in a better state after I have eaten, I promise."

Arthur coughed. "Well, if you're lettin' me call you by name, then I think it's fair you call me by mine."

"And mine." Byleth nodded. She opened her mouth, closed it again, then said, "I've been meaning to speak to you about something you mentioned earlier today, about your father."

She paused at noticing Arthur staring at her intently. "That is... if you do not mind discussing them." She hurriedly added, to Arthur's relief.

"My father..." Ferdinand shook his head and straightened himself. "Yes, I do not mind, of course. What is it you wish to discuss, Byleth?"

The girl threw another glance at Arthur before continuing, "You mentioned to have only been made aware of his corruption just recently. Being corrupt is one thing, but being a tight-fisted tyrant is another. Were you also unaware of how he has been governing his lands?"

"I am ashamed to admit it, but yes. I... have never ventured this far from our capital holdings, and now that I have personally seen the conditions of the other settlements in his vassalage, it seems like the most obvious thing in the world, no?" Ferdinand replied, sorrow plain in his voice. "To think, had I not been up late in the gardens one night, I never would have known my father to be anything but an example of an ideal prime minister — one I should aspire to be like."

Arthur knew about how parents often shield their children from their wrongdoings, feeding them lies about how they conducted themselves outside their domestic lives. It was inevitable, of course, that the children would find out.

"What did you see in the gardens?" Byleth continued.

"More importantly, what was you doing with a bunch of plants in the middle of the night?" Arthur said.

Ferdinand smiled briefly before his mood quickly turned sour again. "I had been practicing with weapons, because the training hall is closed for the night. The gardens were the only place in our household that was spacious enough for it." He paused, closing his eyes for a bit. "I had just finished putting away my things when I heard footsteps approaching. I panicked — I was not supposed to be seen still awake at that time, especially in the gardens."

He sighed. "I snuck under the shadows and hid behind a statue of an ancestor of mine, Derick von Aegir. I waited for the footsteps to pass, but they stopped close to where I was. I was terrified, fearing I was discovered, then... I heard my father's voice and that of another man I was not familiar with. I remember being shocked upon hearing what they spoke about — my father had been embezzling funds from the Imperial Treasury itself!"

Arthur removed the cooked fish and placed them on an extra plate, then produced a metal container full of cooked rice and let it heat up over the fire. "What'd you do?"

"For the next several weeks, I started investigating my father's financial, personal, and diplomatic records, to see if there is any truth to what I heard that night." Ferdinand put a hand to the side of his head. "I could not have expected the extent of the crimes and injustices that I discovered my own father to be a party in. As I kept digging deeper, I uncovered more and more unlawful dealings and unethical practices he played a part in over the years, even before my own birth."

Byleth stared at him. "This is how you also discovered that your father had been employing brigands to murder and kidnap in his own territory."

"It is indeed," Ferdinand nodded. "Father has much to answer for, and I have my work cut out for me when I assume his position as duke and prime minister. I thought I might as well begin undoing his work now, and even if I had to risk my life to do so, I feel it is only right. Justice must be carried out."

Arthur handed him a plate full of fish and rice, as well as a cup of coffee. "You know what, maybe taking this contract ain't such a waste of time after all." He patted the kid on the back. "We'll make those murdering, child-kidnapping scum pay, don't you worry."

"I admit, I was only interested in your contract because you promised a challenge," Byleth said, holding out her plate as Arthur put food in it. "Now, I wish to aid you in accomplishing your goal here."

Arthur and Byleth's words, as well as the smell of food seemed to have dispelled most of Ferdinand's sullenness. He smiled at his comrades before taking a spoon and sampling a bite.

"Oh, this is..." He took another spoonful, then another. "Wow. What you have done with the fish is simply exquisite, Arthur! I did not think it would taste this finely with how limited your ingredients were."

Arthur was surprised at his reaction to his cooking. "It's just salmon sprinkled in salt, with mint and thyme. Prepared it the way I usually do. It ain't that much of meal compared to what you rich kids have back home."

"On the contrary, I think this is on par with what our cooks have at home, which is impressive, considering you do not have access to rare and expensive ingredients, or even a kitchen. You should be proud, my friend!"

The outlaw scoffed, "Byleth doesn't think it's a big deal, at least."

"Your cooking is unexpectedly good, Arthur," The girl said. "I apologise if I wasn't as appreciative of it as Ferdinand."

"Ah, not you too, girl." He grumbled.

The three of them talked some more as they finished their meals. Arthur was on second watch, so he went to get some sleep immediately. The last thing he saw before he closed his tent was Byleth and Ferdinand chatting amiably by the campfire.

When he awoke, Arthur checked his watch and found it was still an hour until midnight, when he was scheduled to relieve Ferdinand. Feeling refreshed enough and wanting to give the poor, exhausted boy a break, he quickly put away his blanket, put on his coat, and left his tent. To his surprise, he found Byleth still up, having apparently spent the entire time he was sleeping talking with Ferdinand. The two of them were so engrossed in their conversation, they did not notice Arthur emerging from his shelter.

"Fascinating! I never would have known that I would be fighting together with the likes of you and Arthur." Ferdinand said, apparently having lost his earlier moroseness entirely, if not his tiredness. "I have been meaning to ask, however... I noticed that he appears, um, a little unwell. Is he alright?"

"We found him dying of consumption. You may find it hard to believe, but Mr. Morgan had been much worse than he is now, and it seems he is only getting better." Byleth replied. "He has been kind to me. I hope to see him be rid of his disease and return to full strength."

"I will pray that he recovers soon." The young man thumped a mailed fist into his chest. "You seem to care about him a great deal, more than one would a colleague. I admit, until you told me otherwise, I had thought you were his daughter or niece."

"I was only interested in his weapons and his style of dress at first, but now... I trust him only a little less than I trust my own father." Byleth said. "I would be glad to have him in the company for as long as he wanted."

"Don't tell me you was going soft on me, girl."

Ferdinand jumped a little, though Byleth only turned around and stared at Arthur. "Oh, hello, Mr. Morgan. Did you sleep well?"

"Sure did, but it looks like you haven't been sleeping at all." He folded his arms like a disappointed parent. "Come on now, get outta here. Go to your tents and get some rest, the both of you damn kids."

Ferdinand, tired as he was, excused himself and left quickly to his corner of the camp. By the time Arthur had turned his attention to Byleth, she had already fled to her tent.

"Good night, Arthur." She called out to him as she stood at the entrance to her tent.

Arthur shook his head, chuckling. "Way past your bedtime, miss."

The outlaw sat down and took Ferdinand's spot after Byleth disappeared into her tent. He pulled out his journal and fountain pen and made to write, when he noticed the cup of coffee he handed to Ferdinand during dinnertime. It was cold and untouched.

...

...

The following day, in the afternoon, Ferdinand led the group past the Hrym border, off the crumbling road, and into a hidden path through a forest that apparently led to an abandoned Adrestian fort — their destination.

"This is it," Ferdinand said, willing his mount to slow down to an ambling trot. "According to my investigations, it should be just ahead."

"Why would the Empire build a fort here?" Byleth asked.

"Have you heard about the House Hrym revolt in 1167?" Ferdinand turned to look behind his shoulder to Byleth. At the shaking of her head, he continued, "It was an attempt to defect from the Empire to the Alliance by the head of House Hrym, Viscount Detlef von Hrym. Despite his forces being bolstered by House Ordelia in the Alliance, Viscount von Hrym was defeated, and he and his entire family were executed on orders of the emperor, Ionius IX."

Arthur had never experienced wartime. He began to wonder if he would stay in this world long enough to be forced to participate in it, if he continued to play the part of a mercenary.

"I see." Byleth nodded. "This fort was established by the Empire during the revolts, and they abandoned it after they put an end to House Hrym."

"That is correct," Ferdinand said. "The Empire had constructed plenty of fortifications such as this one all over Hrym. I... well, it is supposed to be House Aegir's responsibility to maintain them, but Father had ordered all of them to be abandoned, citing the exorbitant costs involved."

Arthur was the first to spot the towers and battlements of the Adrestian fortress emerging from the treeline. He was reminded of old Civil War forts he sometimes had to enter for one reason or another. And if he learned anything about approaching inhabited forts, it's that sentries posted at the towers were liable to spot you should you continue to approach the fort blindly.

"Hold up now, you two." The outlaw said, willing his steed to a stop. "They'll see us coming if we keep using the road. I suggest we dismount and hitch the horses here, then approach through the trees."

"Splendid idea, Arthur." Ferdinand slid down his horse, picking up his long spear in the meantime.

"My thoughts exactly." Byleth did the same.

With their horses hitched in a hard-to-spot area off the side of the road, the three of them proceeded to get close to the fort, using the woods as cover. Byleth and Ferdinand hid behind trees as Arthur hunkered down next to a pile of rocks, a pair of binoculars in his hands.

"Yep, there they are," He said as he scanned the towers and along the battlements with the binoculars. "There's a bunch of guards with bows in both towers. I can also see three... no, four of them patrolling the battlements."

Ferdinand broke out of cover and dropped down next to Arthur. "How can you see them? They are too far away."

Arthur handed him the binoculars. Ferdinand stared at the device in confusion for a moment before mimicking what Arthur was doing before. "Astounding. I can... oh, I can see so far with this thing! Wherever could you have found this contraption, Mr. Morgan?"

"That ain't important right now, son." Arthur said, shaking his head. "We gotta figure out how to get in there, 'cause the bastards sure as hell won't let us in through the front gates. You two have any ideas?"

Byleth lowered herself to kneel on the ground as she scanned the perimeter of the fortress. "If I remember correctly, Adrestian fortifications built before the Karl von Bergliez Reforms of 1171 had hidden entrances built into the walls facing east, which were used by the defenders to sally out should their situation become untenable. Perhaps we can find these entrances and make use of them."

"That is true," Ferdinand said, still peering into Arthur's binoculars. "But, perhaps I have found a simpler solution." He then handed the device back to Arthur. "Look to the south of the fort. A section of the wall there appears visibly damaged from an earlier battle. If one chooses to look closer where the masonry had begun to crumble, there seem to be large gaps in the stone... large enough for us to wedge through."

Arthur looked to where Ferdinand had spoken of, and true enough, he could see many breaches in the wall that they could use to enter the fort. Unfortunately, there was no telling what awaits them as soon as they slipped through to the other side, and Arthur knew enough about how bandits think to know that the three of them were likely to encounter traps or ambushes should they proceed with Ferdinand's idea.

Fortunately, Ferdinand's idea gave Arthur an idea of his own.

"Ain't no chance they haven't rigged traps or put guards where intruders like us could slip through," He said. "But I reckon we can spring our own surprise against them." He fished out a stick of dynamite from his satchel and held it up. "A few of these should be enough to bring that damaged wall down, right on top of any snakes hiding behind it."

The kids did not object to his plan, which meant they could proceed with the attack. Arthur, Byleth, and Ferdinand stuck to the trees as much as possible until they were forced to move over open terrain to get close to the fort. As luck would have it, they ran quickly enough that none of the sentries above the battlements sounded the alarm. With weapons drawn, the three of them skirted along the dusty, crack-ridden walls of this former Imperial strategic position until they reached the section with the most visible damage to the stonework. Indeed, as Arthur scanned the damage along the masonry, he could see where he could place the dynamite to bring the whole thing toppling backwards in a series of explosions.

At Arthur's instruction, Byleth and Ferdinand took cover where they could as he took the time to strategically place four sticks of high-explosive dynamite along the damaged wall. He took out a match and signalled at his companions behind him to get ready before he lit the fuses of each stick in a calculated sequence. Once all four were lit, Arthur scrambled backwards.

"Stay down!" Arthur exclaimed as he put himself behind a large piece of the wall that had fallen off. He then covered his ears and waited until, at last, the first of the dynamite sticks went off.

The results were as devastating as Arthur imagined. The first explosion destabilised the wall, causing it to wobble dangerously. The second explosion took out one of the foundations and sent the wall toppling inwards, its stonework crumbling to pieces in a giant cloud of dust and pulverised masonry. The third and fourth sticks of dynamite went off on the ground, making the dust cloud even larger and hopefully killing or injuring a number of the bandits inside the fort.

Arthur looked to where Byleth and Ferdinand had taken cover, finding both of them in gazing in awe at the damage his explosives caused. Ahead, he could hear shouting from the surprised inhabitants of the fort, as well as screaming and hollering from those injured by the wall falling on top of them, or the explosions themselves.

Both Arthur's group and the bandits could not see each other due to the giant dust cloud between them, but it was only a matter of time before blood was spilled. At the smallest hint of armoured plating he saw in the rapidly-dissipating cloud, Arthur aimed down the breach and opened fire.

The distinctive metallic sound of buckshot pellets punching through armour graced Arthur's ears. He racked his shotgun and fired again.

"Kill the beasts!"

Several armed men emerged from the cloudy breach, charging blindly at whoever was pelting them with shotgun rounds, not knowing that they were running into the jaws of death. Arthur made it quick as he adjusted his aim and fired again, bringing down a number of them. He racked his gun and fired again, only for the rest of the bandits to be blasted to pieces by the twin blasts of Byleth's double-barrel. Of the dozen or so bandits that came charging out of the breach, none were left standing.

Ferdinand gaped at the carnage Arthur and Byleth had wrought, his gauntleted hands gripping his spear tightly. "By the goddess, what terrible weapons!"

"We gotta move!" Arthur said as he broke out of cover and advanced to the breach, bracing his body against a part of the wall still standing. By then, the dust cloud had dissipated enough to reveal more bandits converging inside the fort, having now been alerted to their presence. "Here they come!"

With Ferdinand behind her, Byleth took up a position in front of the breach as she reloaded, then went down on a knee before taking aim. "Shall we take them together, Arthur?"

"Aim, fire, reload. Just like I taught ya!" The outlaw braced his gun to his body and also aimed down at the advancing tide of brigands.

When the foes drew close enough, Arthur pulled the trigger, his blast closely followed by Byleth's. They fired, adjusted, fired again, then reloaded as needed. Together, they dropped several bandits before the rest had learned their lesson and started taking cover. Arthur and Byleth kept firing until they too had to take cover as the bandits started shooting arrows at their position.

"Almost out of shells!" Byleth exclaimed as arrows whizzed past her cover.

"Save 'em!" Arthur said. "Soon as they stop shooting, we charge in and fight them up close!"

Byleth put away her shotgun and unsheathed her sword. "Gladly!"

Behind them, Ferdinand brandished his spear. "A chance to prove my worth!"

Arthur grit his teeth. "Sure, just don't get killed!"

When the bandit archers stopped loosing volleys ineffectively at the trio, Arthur was the first to break out of cover. A nearby bandit had also chosen this time to emerge, and was clearly not expecting to have a shotgun shoved in his face. Arthur fired.

Blood soaked the outlaw's clothes as he obliterated the man's head. When the dead man's friends charged to avenge their comrade, Arthur snapped his gun in their direction and cut them down one by one until his weapon clicked empty. Scowling, Arthur put away his shotgun and and drew his revolver. He waded into the thick of battle and blew new holes in the heads of four of the bandits before he found himself tackled from the side by a bandit with a dagger, who stabbed him in the shoulder twice as he used his weight to force the outlaw on the ground.

Arthur yelled to numb the pain from the new holes in his shoulder. The bandit on top of him retracted his blade and raised it high to finish Arthur with it, only for the outlaw to knee him in the groin, grab hold of his collar, and stab him through the lung with his own hunting knife. Blood soaked Arthur's hand as he used his grip on his foe to pull himself up to his knees. He watched the bandit's eyes grow wide with panic, mouth parting in a silent scream as he unclipped his horseman's axe and brought it down on his foe's head, splitting it wide open.

Panting, bleeding from his shoulder, and feeling the rage and adrenaline he often relied on in battle slowly overtaking his control, Arthur pried his axe loose from his dead foe's skull and swung upwards with all his might, catching a charging bandit by abdomen before he could swing down at Arthur. As the man screamed in pain, Arthur surged up to his feet and stabbed the man in the side twice, before raising his axe above his head and swinging it down on the defenseless brigand. Such was the force of Arthur's blow, that he carved into the man from shoulder to sternum.

By then, Byleth and Ferdinand had advanced past Arthur, bandits coming undone in their wake. Byleth was her usual self in battle — a hurricane of blood and steel, each of her swings seeming to never miss its mark as she sliced off limbs and lopped off heads. Unexpectedly, Ferdinand seemed to be keeping pace with Byleth, though his style of fighting seemed much more defensive, focused on evading attacks and counter-attacking while the foe is unbalanced, his spear-thrusts always finding its mark in his opponents' throats or hearts.

Realising that they were no match for Byleth and Ferdinand together up close, the remaining bandits in the open began to surround Arthur, who was the slowest of the three in melee.

Arthur had just finished off an opponent with a knife to the throat before he found himself screaming as a bandit spearman buried his weapon into his side. The spearman advanced, trying to run Arthur through, but the outlaw cut his attempt short by swinging down with his axe, splitting the polearm by the haft. Deprived of his weapon, the brigand let go of his broken spear and pulled out a hatchet before he lunged at Arthur. Howling in anger, Arthur countercharged and swung wildly at the man, catching him by the hand and lopping it off. Arthur's opponent opened his mouth to scream, but Arthur cut it short with a knife to the ribcage, then the throat, before finishing him with an axe to the spine.

Theee more bandits tried to intercept Arthur, but to their horror, they found him already charging them, the weapons in his hands slick with the blood of their fellow lowlives. The bandits closed ranks and stuck together as they met the outlaw's charge, but Arthur, consumed as he was by the high of battle, was undaunted. Time seemed to slow to a crawl as he ducked under a sword swing on his approach, buried his axe into the offending swordsman's shoulder, retracted his weapon, then swiftly dropped the bandit with another heavy blow to the face. Another swordsman circled around and tried to impale Arthur with his blade, only for the outlaw to parry aside his attack with such force, that his weapon was wrenched from his grasp, leaving him with no defence as Arthur stabbed him hilt-deep in the abdomen and spilled his guts before cleaving the man's head in two. The other bandit, alarmed at Arthur's brutality, attempted to retreat to his comrades, but the enraged outlaw relentlessly pursued him until he plunged his axe into the man's back, forced him into the ground, reared back, and brought his axe down again.

The rest of the ex-mercenaries tried their luck at taking down Arthur, but in his enraged, adrenaline-fuelled state, their depleted and demoralised ranks only succeeded in drenching the outlaw in their blood. For Arthur, the next moments went by in a blur as he stabbed and cleaved his way through the men in his way, and by the time he found himself no longer able to continue fighting due to exhaustion and his injuries, he was the only one left standing in the courtyard.

Coughing, Arthur dropped to a knee as he blearily looked around, the bodies of his foes piled around him. He found Byleth atop the battlements, slaughtering archers as they tried in vain to hold her back. Ferdinand was also standing on another part of the battlements, holding his ground despite being in melee with a bunch of brigands while another bunch shot at him with arrows.

Clearly, these two had agreed to split up and deal with the bandit archers in their towers while Arthur had been too caught up in his own fight to notice.

Arthur took a moment to catch his breath and tend to his wounds the best he could before he drew his warbow and nocked an arrow. He took aim up at the archers shooting at Ferdinand and loosed an arrow, catching one of them by the throat. His next arrow landed square in the eye of another archer. The rest of them started panicking as they tried to find where the dead-eyed accurate arrows were coming from, but with little cover from a man loosing at them from inside the fort, it was only a matter of time before Arthur methodically wiped them out.

Ferdinand fluidly sidestepped a bandit's axe mid-charge and used his momentum to surge forth, impaling his foe in the heart. As his foe reeled, the noble shuffled back, took hold of his weapon with both hands and swung it hard at the bandit, sending his body flying off the side of the battlements. With nothing standing in his way to the archers in the fort towers, Ferdinand advanced a couple of steps before realising his targets were already dead.

Arthur watched Ferdinand wave at him in the distance. He waved back before turning to where he last saw Byleth, arrow nocked and ready to be loosed. Fortunately, Byleth had fared better than Ferdinand, and she was already on the way down the battlements after dealing with her archers.

The three of them soon spotted each other and went to regroup. Arthur had just pulled out the spearhead in his side and applied a vulnerary in the area as Byleth and Ferdinand walked up to him.

"They stopped coming, but there will be more inside." Byleth said. "Mr. Morgan, you're injured. Do you wish to stay behind? Ferdinand and I should be able to clear the fortress on our own."

Arthur groaned. "I'm fine, girl, I've been through worse." He picked up his revolver from the ground and reloaded it before putting it back in its holster. "The job's only half-finished. You kids ready to move in?"

Ferdinand planted his spear into the ground and unsheathed his sword from his side. "I am invigorated. With each brigand slain, we exact justice long-overdue!"

After checking through their gear, Arthur drank a concoction before he led the group to the entrance to the fort, which was sealed shut... but not for long. Taking up his shotgun in his hands, Arthur shot off the door's hinges before kicking it open, revealing another group of bandits lying in wait.

Between the three of them, however, these lowlives were swiftly cut down. Arthur's group then proceeded deeper into the fortress' dilapidated innards, their eyes peeled for traps and ambushes from its inhabitants. Arthur expected to encounter stiff resistance from the ex-mercenaries, but so far, they only came across a small group of bandits in one of the rooms, and they were more interested in trying to hide than fighting the three intruders.

Arthur fired a shot next to them to make them clear off. The loud report of his gun sent them scrambling over each other as they tried to get away from the intruders. Arthur paid them no more mind, but Ferdinand seemed to have other ideas.

"You there!" The young man accosted one of the cowering bandits before he could run away. With surprising strength, Ferdinand seized the man by the collar with one hand and forced him against a wall. "If you value your life, you will stop snivelling and pay attention!"

"Ferdinand von Aegir? Oh, goddess... please have mercy, noble lord!" The brigand tried to plead. Ferdinand pressed him against the wall harder as he brandished the blade in his other hand.

"You recognise me? Good. My father has been paying your fellows a significant sum to murder his fellow nobles and his own subjects, as well as abduct dozens upon dozens of innocent children over the years." He let the man have a good look at his sword. "Explain to me why he wanted you to do all this, and make it good."

Arthur tapped Byleth on the shoulder and gestured at her to follow him as he made his way to Ferdinand, hovering some distance away from him and his victim.

"Y-you don't understand, my lord!" The bandit said. "I... I, we are being held here against our will! We were a mercenary company once — Friedrich's company, they called us. We took contracts from the Alliance until our captain and most of the company went mad!"

That seemed to have cooled Ferdinand's ire. He let go of the man. "You will explain."

The man looked to Ferdinand, then to Arthur behind him, and to Byleth, who was standing in front of the exit closest to him. He gulped.

"I was... am, the treasurer for the company." He said, raising his hands in a placating manner. "It happened one day, several years ago. I remember signing a deal with another company about an exchange of arms, when the captain suddenly turned his sword against his own people. More than half of the fighting men joined him, calling us beasts and vermin as they slaughtered friends and comrades whom they had been fighting alongside for years... I was only spared because of my good head for numbers."

The man sighed. "Everything changed after that. A group of mages whom I have never seen before suddenly appeared and started ordering people around, telling them to gather this and that. Those who disobeyed, they hit with their magic, burning out their minds and leaving them as mindless slaves. Captain Friedrich also took orders from them, and often, he was told to take his men somewhere very specific so they can kill this person and abduct their children, or to raze that hamlet to the ground, leave no survivors, and take resources."

Ferdinand listened to the man with a look full of horror and steadily-mounting rage. "To assassinate nobles is one thing, and to abduct their children is another... but to do something so brutal, so heinous as to murder entire settlements... madness."

Arthur stepped forward, his expression mirrorring Ferdinand's own. "Why did these goddamn animals make him do all this?"

"What? I don't know!" The bandit treasurer was quick to say. "I was never allowed to see too much, and the mages made it clear I'm only still alive and allowed to keep my mind because I was more useful as I am... same as with our healers and the cook. Out of everyone in the company, we are the only ones still ourselves."

Arthur scowled. "And where are they now?"

"They know you're coming! If I were you, I'd just get—"

"Where are they?" Arthur repeated, his voice a threatening growl. "Don't make me ask again!"

The man flinched. "J-just ahead, past this wing. You'll come across the great hall — that's where they'd be, but I'm warning you! They're waiting for you alongside the captain."

"Get outta here, you damned fool." Arthur waved him off, and he was all too eager to scurry away. "Y'all heard him? Let's go find those mages and finish this."

Byleth nodded. "I agree."

Ferdinand breathed in and out. Within seconds, he appeared calm again. "Yes. This nightmare ends today."

Fortunately for them, the bandit treasurer did not mislead them with faulty directions. Arthur, Byleth, and Ferdinand followed his instructions and had arrived just in front of the entrance to the great hall. Arthur took point and opened it, shotgun in hand. The moment he tried to push it open, however, he found himself flung backwards as a purple burst of magic energy rent the door asunder, sending splinters and pieces of it everywhere.

"Hostile magic, take cover!" Arthur could faintly hear Byleth shout. Coughing, he felt gauntleted hands picking him up from the dusty floor and helping him up to stand.

"Time to fight, Mr. Morgan!" Ferdinand yelled in his face and shoved his shotgun into his hands before running into the great hall, sword in hand.

Groaning, Arthur shook his head. He looked into the interior of the great hall and saw Byleth and Ferdinand engaged in melee with multiple brigands while several dark figures in robes and hoods rained down explosive purple orbs from afar. Ferdinand was easily subduing his opponents with relentless slashes and cuts of his sword, whereas Byleth was being held back by simultaneously having to deal with several bandits attempting to cut her down while dodging the purple orbs.

Worse still, she seemed unaware of an armoured figure entering the fray, wielding a two-handed cleaver in his hands. From the look of his armour and the way the other bandits parted aside to let him through, Arthur could only guess that this one was Captain Friedrich himself.

Arthur loaded shells into his weapon as he advanced into the room. A few bandits disengaged from Byleth or Ferdinand to intercept him, but he was quick to blow them away with close-range blasts of his shotgun. Meanwhile, Byleth continued to hold her ground as the dark mages intensified their barrage, blowing smoking craters and leaving scorch marks on the floor where she once stood before she repositioned. Arthur shouted to warn her of the imminent threat in her midst, but she reacted to his warning too late. Captain Friedrich brought his cleaver down on the girl, who only barely managed to block the heavy blow thanks to her reflexes. This did not save her from getting the wind knocked out of her with a gauntleted punch to the stomach from the bandit captain.

"Byleth!" Arthur could only watch as Friedrich levelled a swing at Byleth, spilling her blood as she was knocked flying back from the supernatural force of his blow. The girl skidded on the floor until her back hit the wall in a far corner of the room. "You bastard!"

The bandit captain rumbled a muffled laugh through his helmet as he set his sights to Arthur. "Do you beasts think you stand a chance? This place will be your tomb!"

Arthur answered the man's words with a shotgun blast. Friedrich staggered back as the buckshot pellets clattered against his armour, but he did not seem to be hurt at all. He laughed again and made to charge at Arthur, but was interrupted by Ferdinand landing a heavy overhead blow to him from behind.

"Byleth is in trouble!" The noble shouted as Friedrich spun around and battered his cleaver against his sword. He was quick to retaliate, but his blows kept bouncing off the man's armour. "Kill the mages! I will— agh! Keep this monster at bay!"

Arthur grit his teeth and looked to the dark figures ahead. They hadn't stopped hurling unholy orbs of balefire at the wounded Byleth, whom had managed to stand, but was still beset by multiple axe-wielding brigands from all directions. She parried and counter-attacked as best as she could, but it was clear from the way she was flagging that she wouldn't last very long with the mages constantly throwing their magic at her.

Arthur emptied his shotgun into Captain Friedrich. His shots failed to do much in the way of damage, but they distracted the bandit captain long enough for Ferdinand to land several blows to his joints and the gaps in between the plates of his armour.

"Submit!" Ferdinand yelled as he continued to batter his opponent with one strike after another, righteous anger fuelling his blows.

With his shotgun empty, Arthur loaded it with slugs this time around as he advanced towards the mages. The first to notice him conjured a ball of dark magic and certainly would have unleashed it on Arthur, had he not blasted him with a slug to the shoulder, blowing a bloody chunk out of it. He screamed before Arthur finished him with another slug to the head, which alerted the other mages to his presence.

"Don't let the vermin get close!" Arthur heard one of them shout before they turned their magic on him. He barely managed to put himself behind a stone pillar before they unleashed a barrage of balefire orbs on him.

Soon, Arthur could feel the pillar he was leaning against start to crumble. He knew he only had seconds to decide what to do before he was exposed and obliterated utterly. In the end, he decided to take a risk.

As the dark mages relentlessly pelted Arthur's position, the outlaw simply walked out of cover with his revolver drawn by the hip. As adrenaline flooded his veins once more, time slowed down for Arthur as he lined up his shots.

There were six mages. He had six bullets in the chamber.

He smirked.

In the space of a second, Arthur fan-fired his revolver, emptying it. All six mages collapsed like puppets with their strings cut, leaking blood from the new holes blown into their skulls.

Without the mages to throw orbs of dark magic at her, Byleth quickly dispatched her opponents and moved to assist Ferdinand. Arthur put away his revolver and doubled back to do the same, and came to the sight of Ferdinand gripping his sword by the blade with both hands, smashing its crossguard repeatedly against Captain Friedrich's helmet. Friedrich ineffectually tried to fight back with wild swings of his own cleaver, which Ferdinand easily dodged or deflected with slightly more effort. It seemed that without the element of surprise, despite his strength and unusually-durable suit of armour, Friedrich proved to be an inadequate match for an opponent who moved fast and hit hard.

After another one-sided bout, one decisive murder-stroke from Ferdinand knocked the helmet from the bandit captain's head, revealing his hairless, extremely pale face, dazed and bleeding, teeth grit in defiance.

"You worthless animals may kill me," Friedrich spat out a mixture of blood and saliva with each word from his mouth. "But you have changed nothing! Our work continu—"

Eyes ablaze with wrath for the wicked, Ferdinand reversed his grip on his sword and held it in a half-swording grip as he surged up and plunged it into the captain's open mouth, running his head through. With a snarl of contempt, the young man pulled back his blade, reared back, and swung it at Captain Friedrich's neck.

Arthur backed into a wall and slowly slid down on his rear as he calmed down. He brought out a concoction, mixed it with ale, and started nursing the mixture as he watched Byleth and Ferdinand finish off what was left of the bandits. Within moments, they were all alone in the great hall. The battle was over, and with it, their contract was complete.

"Are you hurt, Mr. Morgan?"

The outlaw glanced at Byleth walking up to him. She had a visible scratch running horizontally across the surface of her chestplate which turned into a shallow wound as it continued down to her unarmoured stomach, but she did not appear to be seriously harmed.

"I should be asking you that question," Arthur said as she sat down next to him with a heavy breath. "I saw you get sent flying — had that been me, I wouldn't be on my feet for the rest of the fight."

"I can feel bruises forming. I think I will be unable to fight for a while." She said as she undid her ponytail and rested her head against the wall, eyes closing. "But I should be fine. I just need to rest."

Arthur sipped from his drink. "Don't we all?"

They sat in silence for a while. After some time, Arthur realised he hadn't seen Ferdinand in a while, and he nudged Byleth to let her know.

"I saw him heading into the room we saw some of the mages emerged from, at the opposite end of the hall," The girl said, rubbing her eyes. "If you don't mind, I wish to stay here a while. I feel exhausted."

Arthur nodded as he stood up. He took off his coat and draped it over Byleth before he left to check on Ferdinand, whom he found inside a rather well-kept room, with desks stacked with tomes, alchemical reagents and what looked like magical implements arranged neatly by their owner.

There were all manner of interesting tools and magic-related equipment strewn about the room, but as Arthur noticed when he strode further inside, none of them held Ferdinand's interest. With a look of concentration on his face, the young noble leaned over a desk as he pored over a scattered collection of documents and tomes. He jumped slightly when Arthur tapped him on the shoulder.

"I came here looking for answers," Ferdinand said to Arthur before he returned to gazing at his books. "But these mages have implemented some kind of spell that keeps me from gleaning information from these. I will have to send for my retainers to collect everything in this room, and a mage to dispell the enchantments..."

"So, that's it? You're still in the dark." Arthur said.

Ferdinand sighed. He gripped the edge of the desk and ran his hand over his hair, which was caked in brigand blood. "So it seems, but not completely. I found a few other documents that were unenchanted, and they seem to have one thing in common — they reference a series of experiments these mages conducted north of here, in the Ordelian domain..."

He snatched one of the documents on the desk and briefly read through it with all the care of someone whom had already gone through its contents several times. "These experiments seem to revolve around a noble house — House Ordelia. I found myself unable to learn anything more beyond that, but mark my words, I will get to the bottom of this, and see those responsible for all the deaths and kidnappings brought to heel, either by law... or by sword."

Arthur looked into Ferdinand's eyes and saw that the kid really did intended to do what he must to see justice be done. He could respect that. "Well, I wish you all the best, if you're going down that road. For what it's worth, I ain't all that opposed to helping you with... all this, as I was before."

Ferdinand smiled. "You are an example to be held amongst other mercenaries, Arthur, and in other circumstances, I would be more than glad to have you and Byleth by my side again." His shoulders sagged as the smile fell from his face. "Alas, doing so risks you to being associated with me, which will result in my father trying to either influence you, or remove you. I am afraid this may be the last time we meet."

Arthur shrugged. "If that's the case, then, it's a pleasure to do business with you, Ferdinand. Don't tell Byleth, but I quite enjoyed this."

Ferdinand reached out with his gauntleted hand, which Arthur took. "Perhaps I am mistaken, and that the three of us will meet again someday, somewhere my father cannot find me. I look forward to that day, should it come."

...

A/N: hi there, misters!

This site only lets me tag four main characters for the story. As you can imagine, I tagged Ferdinand (von Aegir)'s name for a reason, as he's got a pretty major role to play in the story. That's for much later, however.

Well, I don't really have much to say for now. Nothing that won't spoil elements of the plot for later chapters, at any rate.

Okay, I'll catch you later then!

Goodbye, Mr. Kametz. 1987-2022.