The Dustbin
Day 57: Foreign Exchange Part 1
15th of Pegasus Moon, Dawn
A vast metropolis sitting atop of the coast of Alliance territory can be seen through the marine fog casting forth from the east.
Through the opaque screen was the city of Derdriu, Leicester Alliance's capital and location of the Alliance's Roundtable, a convention of the nation's Five Great Lords where internal political matters are discussed and voted upon. Leading the five was House Riegan, with the central chair being currently occupied by Oswald von Riegan.
Apart from its nobles and politics, the city itself was renowned for its industrial capabilities, housing many factories manufacturing various products from weapons of war to everyday common good, all of which being the crux of the Alliance's economical might spurred further by its booming import and export industry.
However, recent developments within Fodlan had begun to slow down the city's income rate. Morris, their close trading partner being annexed by Almyra after a horribly one-sided invasion caused said trade route to be suspended. The rise of Miklan's cartel, although now neutralized according to the Church of Seiros, still inflicted long-term damages to the merchants's inland routes, with bandits now emboldened by said cartel's rise and began conducting even more daring and vicious raids on the trade routes. And not to mention, rumors of Claude von Riegan's half-Almyran heritage being spread around various grapevines generated even more friction between the Five Great Lords and aligned factions.
Simply put, everyone within the nation were laying on a bed of nails as of now. Not to the point where one more bad day would spell doom for the Alliance, but more along the lines of being on the verge of a significant economic depression.
Nevertheless, even with the horrid prospects being on the possible horizon, everyone living in this vast city went about their rounds for each others' sakes and sanities. At best, all they could do was do their jobs and pray to the goddess for solace.
Patrolling the docks housing various maritime vessels were a pair of Soldiers. Both were marching back and forth around the docks, lit torch in one hand, [Steel Lances] in another. The two then meet back up at their crossing before stopping for a quick break.
"... Hey," one of them spoke.
"Yeah?" the other replied.
The former than looked out towards the foggy sea in hopes of spotting the first sunrise. "... You ever wonder why we're here-?"
Then before either of them could speak any further, harrowing whistle was heard before during the next instant, the world around them just exploded into flames. All of the ships, the whole harbor, and the surrounding masonry and infrastructure erupted as seawater quickly occupied the gaping pit left behind.
Every last soul living in Derdriu were then immoderately roused from their slumber as the sound of the explosion rocked them from their beds. One of the many rattled souls was none other than the elderly Duke Riegan himself.
"DUKE RIEGAN!" an attendant ran into his bedchambers as the old noble scrambled up from his bed before running towards the window. "... Are you unharmed-?!"
"DAMN IF I'M HARMED!" the old Duke fired back before composing himself. "... The city and the citizens... what's the status?!"
A Wyvern Knight then runs in with a report. "Milord, we've received reports from our airborne scouts," he stated before reading the report. "The enemy bears the Almyran standard! They've brought their entire armada of warships and have already encircled the surrounding sea!"
Duke Riegan then was helped putting on his coat over his night wear. "... A naval blockade now of all times!" he growled before restraining himself, taking into account of his declining health due to his age. "... What of our own armada? Our own scouting vessels set out at sea?!"
"All of our ships and the whole harbor were destroyed by the initial barrage while those at sea have not yet returned," the Wyvern Knight frankly spoke. "Our airborne scouts are still trying to discern what had the Almyrans brought to cause this scale of devastation."
"Duke Riegan, we must ensure yours and everyone safety," the attendant addressed. "Permit me to speak freely, but now I personally think that after burning Morfis to the ground, the Almyrans have come for us next!"
"Save your assumptions to someone who actually cares," growled Oswald as he staggered towards the door and out of his bedroom. He then looked towards following Wyvern Knight. "You there," he ordered, "have your men to send out help to all of our available allies. The rest of the Five Great Lords, their own allies, and the Church of Seiros! Tell all of them that Almyra is now attempting a naval invasion!"
"Yes Duke Riegan!" the Wyvern Knight then runs off as the rest of the hallway occupied with panicking servants and guards who were now dawned of their current situation.
"Time is of the essence everyone!" the elderly Duke firmly stated to calm everyone present down. "Prioritize on evacuating the whole city! That is an order!"
At the Closed Courtroom within Garreg Mach...
The Halls of Justice where Aelfric had stood before where the Archbishop had taken seat was quiet as a funeral service as the now-disgraced Cardinal was sentenced.
Gone were his robes in a prisoner's rags and chains, flanked by a pair of Fortress Knights holding said chains to ensure his cooperation during his proceedings. Standing behind him was none other than Karna Yuga, acting as the condemned's sole defense against the rest of the court that were quietly thirsting for his blood.
And why wouldn't they? The man dared to play god while pretending to be a man of the cloth. Even the condemned knew that death was the only way out for what he'd done. The only mercy he can beg for was that he and the others were generous enough to not draw this out any further.
"Aelfric Dahlman," spoke Rhea as her hand reached for the gavel. "Former Cardinal of Church of Seiros and Leader of the Abyss, for your crimes of witchcraft, heresy, collusion, conspiracy, and necromancy, we, the Church of Seiros, with the Goddess's wisdom as our final judgement..."
Aelfric's eyes close as the gavel was then struck.
"... Declare you guilty," she spoke. "Your sentence, life without parole."
Everyone, sans Rhea and Karna, had their eyes widened at this unforeseen revelation before they murmured amongst themselves. Even Aelfric, the condemned, was more shocked than relieved that his life wasn't to be ended at the end of a noose or chained around a burning stake.
"... Why?!" he then lunged forth as the two Fortress Knight leashed him back. "WHY?!"
He then looked back at Karna, who was now sporting a shit-eating grin while playfully waving his hand at him. He then moved his lips without saying anything, mock-speaking out "You owe me" to the condemned Cardinal.
"Karna Yuga... was rather persuasive when it came to pleading for your life to be spared," explained Rhea. "Two reasons specifically we spared ourselves of commissioning Catherine with more work."
Everyone then goes silent as the Archbishop then bangs her gavel once more.
"First, the Abyss still needs a leader, and the Ashen Wolves, despite your precautions, are still too green to be leading a whole society of vagrants," she explained. "The last thing I want is an active hornet's nest right below where me and my followers tread upon, and you're the one with the most experience to keep the situation from getting out of hand."
Aelfric remained silent while trying to process what was happening right now.
"And second, can I be honest with you for a second?" the Archbishop remarked in a sighing tone. "Normally, you'd be one of the many I kill and dump in a ditch for crossing me. But you, ex-Cardinal, are an exception. Committing a heresy so vile and heretical to so much as tamper with the fundamentals of mortality itself... your sentence went from 'death by beheading' to 'life of shame and regret' in a perfect loop. Surely, deep down, you want to die after going through Goddess-knows-what we went through just so self-satisfaction, correct?"
Aelfric gulps as his eyes widened and bulged at that little tidbit before pivoting his head back to Karna, who was now drinking out of a bottle of wine that he'd snuck in while flipping the bird at him without making eye contact.
Rhea then smiles like a saint as she then makes her addendum.
"I'm putting you on a close 24/7 suicide watch on top of your eternal community service!" she cheerily declared before shifting back to her more serious tone as she then gave her last order to the Fortress Knights. "Court is adjourned," she then bangs the gavel one more time. "Get him out of my sight."
Aelfric then stemmers incoherently as he was then dragged out of the closed courtroom's doors. As soon as the doors were shut, sounds of horrified weeping and screaming were heard behind the doors, sounding more akin to a man being tortured to death rather than a man who was spared of becoming one of [Thunderbrand]'s many victims.
As soon as the courtroom was slowly dismissed of its occupants, the last ones who were in the emptied Halls of Justice were none other than Karna and Rhea, the former finishing up his bottle that he'd snuck in.
"I told you that he'd seek death as an escape!" the slightly-drunk Professor remarked. "And you said that there cannot be any fate worse than death!"
"A hell of his own making," Rhea deadpanned as she hid her disgust behind an infallible facade of calm. "What I'd hoped for was atonement, not him begging to die for his sins."
"I met and dealt with people like him throughout my travels, Lady Rhea," explained Karna. "They're the kind of people that won't just give up on their beliefs and morals even to their own benefit. Even as the chalice they hold onto becomes poisoned right in front of their eye, push em far enough, and they'll slurp up that spiked concoction like if its the ambrosia from the Goddess's teat itself."
Rhea's eyes narrowed as Karna was now laughing like a madman as he leaned back from the pews like a sloth lazing about on a branch. "... Your way of thinking disgusts me."
She then walks past him while regarding him less than a dog's shit. Karna shrugs while lapping up the last drops of his stolen wine from his bottle before moping in disappointment.
At the Gazebo...
"... And the ex-Cardinal was begging for death as he was dragged away to his life sentence," finished Karna before he then knocked back another bottle of wine (stolen) as Lord Arundel/disguised Sage Thales sat across from him, sipping his tea.
"You do realize that it's too early in the morning for inebriation, correct?" the disguised Sage pointed out.
"C'mon, I didn't invite you to bitch on me," the now-drunk Professor slurred with a visible blush on his face before he continued getting wasted. "... Anyhoo, I doubt that he'll cause any problems anytime soon. If anything, he's not even my responsibility."
"Putting you as part of the suicide watch is about advisable as letting a fox sleep in a chicken coop," deadpanned the man across table. "... I don't like my job, but I do have to keep up appearances lest it reflects badly upon me."
"Right, reputation and all that shit..." the Professor chuckled before accidentally kicking over the teapot and spilling its steaming contents all over the table's surface. "... Whoops, my B."
Hastily, he then pulls out another bottle of (stolen) wine. This time, an absurdly expensive "Enbarr Exotic Eternal: Aged in 30 Years Red Oak" (clocking at around about 500,000 gold per bottle).
"How about a drink as a compensation?" Karna suggested.
Lord Arundel/Sage Thales looked at the drunk Professor incredulously. "... Normally, I don't drink," he remarked before sighing in defeat. "Oh, what the hell. Let me try it."
The two began drinking said wine, with one clearly enjoying it more than the other.
"And this is the kind of infernal concoction that my salary can barely afford without going into debt?!" the Chairman of Educational Board remarked after he'd spat out his share.
"Hater," Karna flipped him off as he then drank the rest of it. "... So," he remarked as he kept both of his feet propped up on the tea table while his chair balanced back on its two hind legs, "... how's business outside of Garreg Mach?"
"Well, for starters, the Demonic Beasts woke up from their hibernation and are now running amok across the countryside," Lord Arundel/Sage Thales explained. "Every nation's best military are deployed to quell the herd, with me giving out the orders as the Empire's technical-number two. Heavens forbid letting the Prime Minister do all the work."
"I still owe that fat fucker a boot to the face," Karna slurred as he shook out his emptied bottle for its final few drops.
The man sitting across from him smirked at the thought. "That'd be the day."
"Well, it's the weekend," Karna then got up from his chair without tipping it over (and sweeping off the tray of sweets with his leg). "I think after all that'd happened, we're in due for a break, don't you agree?"
Lord Arundel/Sage Thales smirks as he then gets off of his seat. "My day is already ruined thanks to you."
"Sod off, mate," Karna flipped him off as walked off. "You're not the only git on my shit-list!"
Completely drunk off his gourd, Karna then waddles off to Goddess-knows-where, spinning and dancing clumsily about between people who just wanted to avoid this man's stench of booze. Then he was found tripping over the flight of stairs, tumbling down its steps before reaching the bottom, only for him to get back up as if nothing had happened.
As his daze was fading, Karna now found himself standing behind Jeralt and Byleth, the two of them now having their long-overdue parent-child bonding moment ala fishing. And today's catches were especially large and bountiful, with both of the Eisners catching enough to feed a whole village.
"... Ugh, sappy shit," he spat across the side. "Not gonna bother ruining it. Too drunk for that shit-"
He then vomits into the waters where the two were fishing at, ruining the atmosphere and giving himself away.
"Really?" Byleth sighed as she then handed her rod to her father.
"Even I don't get that drunk in the morning," the Blade Breaker remarked as he kept holding onto the rods. "... How many and what kind?"
"... About 1.3 million's worth of gold... down the shitter," Karna groaned before he continued vomiting. "... Don't worry... I stole them all from the Death God Bandits."
"THAT MANY?!" Jeralt exclaimed. "... And people say I'm the one that needs to cut down."
"I'm built different-" Karna vomits into the fishing pond once again, now it's populace feeding upon Karna's bile.
"... Fishing trip is ruined," Byleth sighed before picking up her and Jeralt's catches. "Hey dad, let's bounce."
"Right behind you," he then packed up their fishing supplies before leaving the cloaked Professor in his stupor. "... Don't wanna have to spill his vomit while gutting these things."
Karna then finally finishes vomiting his contents of his stomach (and possibly liver) before walking off towards elsewhere, now with a wicked hangover. However, he then ran into Byleth, who was doubling back to retrieve the fishing knife that she'd accidentally left behind on the dock.
"... Oh right, I just remembered something!" Karna exclaimed. "... Finals are next month, correct?"
"And your kids?" asked Byleth.
"Studying down at the Abyss," he replied. "Speaking of, I just remembered that I have an appointment there. Wish you luck, my fated rival! May the better educator prevail!"
Byleth then sees Karna running off like a girl in love late for her date.
... Still can't get a read on him, thought the Professor.
Me neither, Sothis shook her head. And I'm the Goddess herself, for crying out loud.
Down at the Abyss...
"... How can I help you, Lady Rhea?" asked the Abysskeeper.
"Take me to where Karna is," she ordered before handing the Brigand-looking man two folded papers. "Also, the one on the left is for Aelfric. The other's for Karna."
"Right this way," the Abysskeeper than led the Archbishop below underground and towards a hidden passageway leading into the main plaza.
As soon as reaching the bottom, the underground society was slowly becoming more akin to that of a functional commune, with Rhea's order of Knights of Seiros providing aid to the resident rebuilding their infrastructure and the Ashen Wolves themselves leading the reconstruction process.
"I'm glad things are proceeding smoothly, given what'd transpired last month," commented Rhea.
"Well, don't toot your own horn, Archbishop," grumbled the Abysskeeper. "Maybe next time, kick the habit of making enemies of those that disagree with you? You and your congregation aren't the only ones who are on their shitlist if they decide to come and take a swing at you."
"I cannot," she replied. "My faith must stand ironclad. To yield means to destroy everything that my predecessors and I have worked for."
The Brigand clicks his tongue. "... Knew I was asking for too much."
Rhea sighs in regret. "Forgive me," she apologized. "But I have my own priorities as you do yours."
The Abysskeeper shrugs. "Agree to disagree, got it."
The two then continued walking into the residential district of the underground society.
"... By the way, how is the ex-Cardinal holding up?" asked Rhea.
"Thrice already, we had to physically stop him from hanging himself," the Abysskeeper remarked as the sounds of a man screaming in unison with several men struggling was heard next to them. "... Make that four times."
"KILL ME!" the ex-Cardinal's voice screamed and wept as the sounds of furniture knocking over could be heard through the walls. "SOMEONE PLEASE SLAY THIS PITIFUL SINNER!"
"WILL YOU SHUT THE HELL UP?!" Cyrus roared out from the other building. "SOME OF US ARE TRYING TO STUDY FOR THE FINALS AND WOULD VERY MUCH LIKE TO GRADUATE FROM THIS HELLHOLE!"
Rhea visibly cringes at Aelfric's suicidal pleas in tandem with the Dustbin's tirades. "... And before you ask, no, this wasn't my idea."
"Figured," he grumbled. "Even you're not that fucked in the head."
"I choose to ignore that," remarked the Archbishop.
Both of them then enter into a tunnel leading towards the holding cells. They then walk down towards the end of the tunnel before reaching a reinforced locked door.
"And this where our guest of honor is kept situated in," Rhea dryly remarked. "... Oddly quiet, given how... crude they can be."
"She's been despondent since day one," the Abysskeeper remarked. "... Apparently, an armchair was one of the things he ordered to be put in there. Alongside with several nails, a hammer, fishing hooks and lines, and commissioned work from your blacksmith."
"That being?" asked Rhea as the Brigand then took out the door keys before inserting it into the lock.
"... Wootz steel needles each thin as a single strand of hair," he answered as the door was unlocked before they both entered into the dark tunnel.
As they both walked through the black, the pair then spotted a dim light illuminating at the tunnel's end. As they drew closer towards the light, a faint hum could be heard echoing from the walls.
"... Already, I don't like this," the Archbishop remarked.
"So why let him turn our solitary confinement cell into his own torture chamber?" asked the Brigand.
Rhea cringes before giving a white lie. "... She's an enemy from an... elusive faction of assailants that are behind the majority of the chaos happening throughout Fodlan," she explained/lied (on the part of her knowing everything about them). "... I absolutely loathe the man, to the point where I pray that he and his band of miscreants die horribly. But they bring both results, and... good, valid points of our holes within our administrative, military, and general infrastructures. In fact, he might as well be the bait of all of our problems, but at least he has the decency to own up to them and then some."
"Wowzers, I never thought you'd think of me like that!" Karna's voice echoed from the end of the hallway.
"How did he-?!" the Abysskeeper exclaimed before he stopped himself. "... You know what, I'm already going insane just humoring that man."
"Welcome to my world," deadpanned Rhea as the two then made their way towards where Karna was at before stopping at what laid behind bars in complete and utter horror.
Before them was Karna, prodding and shifting around the needles that were pierced into Kronya's skull, while the latter was foaming at the mouth, her eyes and lips pulled back by an array of fishing hooks connected to the lines tied behind her to prevent them from being closed, her mouth was stuffed with an object that looked like a lollipop made of leather with a wooden handle, and from her (presumably naked) body covered in a smock, her exposed arms and legs were nailed to the armrests and frontal legs of the chair, preventing her from escaping, with said wooden armchair lacking a seat and nailed into a giant board to prevent rocking. All of this gruesome sight was illuminated by a single lantern dangling over their heads inside the cell, with the light from the flames reflecting off of Karna's headband with a reflective plate attached onto its forehead.
"WHAT THE FUCK IS ALL THIS?!" Rhea exclaimed.
"Quiet in the peanut gallery!" scolded Karna as he adjusted the needles into the Agarthan's head, causing the latter to twitch like a half-dead bug. "... And yes, she's still alive. Albeit in a constant in-between state of suffering hellish bodily pain and orgasming around every five seconds."
Rhea then vomits to the side at the explanation before the Abysskeeper followed soon after.
"... Sweet Sothis, Professor Yuga. What in the nine infernal hells is your practice that you're currently conducting?!" screamed the Archbishop.
"... Lobotomy?" he answered. "... Picked it up in Shangri-La. Lawbreakers... don't last long within their walls."
"So what, this is some sort of foreign torture method that you're recreating?" the Abysskeeper asked as he spat out the leftover bile.
"... I wouldn't say 'torture,' per say," he denied.
"Then... what are we supposed to call that?!" Rhea pointed out.
"... You know, Shangri-La's laws, ruthless as it is, are ludicrously precise," explained the Professor. "For example, there are different kinds of punishments for each state of the same crime. Attempted burglary will result in public flogging. Attempted burglary but failing to steal anything will result in a crippling fine for both the victim and the government. And a successful attempted burglary but you get caught days later, beheading."
Karna then points his finger into the half-dead Kronya.
"This right here, is what the Shangri-La police do when extracting information from suspected accomplices," he revealed. "I think it's dubbed... 'enhanced interrogation method'? Torture is usually done before an execution. While this... doesn't have an execution waiting soon after. And speaking of extracting information..."
Karna then walks over to a dimly lit table before picking up a large stack of papers and then shoving it between the bars towards Rhea's face.
"She sang like a bird after day three," smirked the Professor. "Location of their main base, all of their covert agents throughout the three nations and the Church's staff, and a litany of planned assassinations and political scandals they've yet to trigger. Turns out the House of Ochs' eradication was done by her. Oh, and don't drop these. Floor's wet and ink's gonna blot and all that."
The Archbishop retrieves the papers before looking down at her feet, finding a visible puddle below where she and the Abysskeeper stood on. "... What's all this?"
"That's her piss," Karna pointed at the puddle that they were standing on.
"And I'm leaving!" Rhea then pivots her heel towards the exit quickly as she could, leaving the Abysskeeper by himself as the sole audience to this horror show before him.
"So..." Karna droned awkwardly, "... you wanna watch... or?"
The Abysskeeper then crumples a paper into a ball before throwing it into Karna's face between the bars and running like hell.
Karna then picks up the slightly-moist letter before unraveling and reading its contents.
He then lets out a whistle before glancing at the foaming-at-the-mouth Kronya and wiping her mouth. "Don't worry pumpkin, we'll pick this up later, alright?"
He then pulls out all of the needles (now dripping with her brain fluids) out of her before making his exit and out towards the building next to Aelfric being from a precariously-high ledge by his ankle by an overworked Fortress Knight.
"WHY DIDN'T YOU CONDEMN ME TO DEATH, YUGA?!" screeched the maddened Aelfric.
"Because you need to take freaking responsibility for shitting your own bed, asshat!" Karna remarked before kicking in the door leading into Topaz's (new) residence where the rest of the Dustbin were studying at. "Hey-yo, kiddos! We got another job!"
"Oh good," Byron sighed as he shut his textbook. "Can barely teach Cyrus anything due to our current neighbor."
"So, wat's de shite we're dealin' with dis time?" asked Sorcha.
"Well, according to the fat lady upstairs had said..." the Professor began reading the letter he was given, "... Almyra, fresh off of their invasion and successful annexation of Morfis, are now turning their warships onto Fodlan, with the Leicester Alliance's capital city of Derdriu is now under a naval blockade by the enemy armada."
"Oi Cyrus, ye 'nd Topaz are familiar with dem, rite?" asked Selene. "... Wat's yer two bits on dat?"
"I only worked with their land forces, but I did hear that they're no slouches when it comes to their maritime capabilities," Cyrus explained. "... Have to see it for myself though. Just so that I can make a proper judgement call."
Vidar then turned towards Topaz for context. "... What... you?"
The little mutant Hassashin grumbled before talking. "... Prince Shahid spoke badly about the navy, citing them as 'waste of tax revenue'," she explained. "But given that one of his political rivals was in charge of maintaining the fleet, I suppose that it's just his own bias. Also taking into consideration of their recent success of invading Morfis, I have to take a similar position to Cyrus."
"By the way, the Golden Deer will be coming with us, for obvious reasons," continued Karna, "however, Manuela won't be joining us due to her still being at rehab/navigating around with one eye, and even more unexpectedly, we're their chaperones. And no, we can't pawn this off to someone else because the Church is that short-staffed."
Cyrus loudly groans while the rest shrugged in indifference.
"Come on, it can't be that bad," remarked Byron.
"The fact that I have to babysit that petulant, pink, princess is the least of my ire," the Battuian growled, gnashing his teeth with obvious furor.
"Eh, could be worse," commented Karna. "We could be heading to Fodlan's Throat."
With that said, the Dustbin and their Professor pack their things and head up towards the surface and meets the whole class of Golden Deer at the monastery's entrance gates.
"Watch your freaking back, princess," snarled Cyrus as he brought forth Darius by his bridles.
"Right back at you, horse-fucker," smirked Hilda as she threateningly brandished her [Freikugel].
"We're already off to a great start..." sighed Claude before he got onto the wagon. "Come on, everyone. Daylight's burning!"
Everyone then gets on their assigned wagons with Cyrus and Karna sitting in the front of one while Claude and Marianne sat in the front of the other.
"Giddy-up, Dortie!" the Holy Knight snapped her bridles as her horse began pulling the wagon with Lorenz's own (named DeRosa).
"Hiya!" Cyrus then snapped his own as Darius pulled the wagon all by himself, being a horse twice as large as a regular Fodlan breed of steeds.
The two groups then made their way towards Derdriu under naval siege.
At Derdriu (Under Siege)...
"Is everyone present and accounted for?" Duke Riegan spoke to his attendant as he took his seat around the Roundtable.
"Yes milord," he answered. "I've been informed that the rest of the Five Great Lords and their allies have arrived."
Just as he'd mentioned it, the double-doors leading out of the Roundtable Chamber then opened, revealing four people of great importance entering the Roundtable.
"I've came as soon as I heard 'Almyra' in your message, Duke Riegan," spoke the pink-haired man wearing a suit of maroon Warrior's armor with spiked pauldrons holding up his white white cape with the Goneril sigil emblazoned on its back. "To think that they'd try something this brazen while me and my men were keeping watch over Fodlan's Throat..."
"It was only a matter of time, Margrave Goneril," spoke a violet-haired man wearing an indigo-purple colored Paladin armor emblazoned with metallic red roses acting as pins for his cape that bore the symbol of the House Gloucester on its side. "Our enemy is bloodthirsty, not insane. There's a difference."
"Even he's not that dull, Count Gloucester," spoke a stoic, broad-shouldered man with steel-gray hair draping down across the sides of his beige and crimson colored Bishop's robes bearing the (recently-added, after his adopted daughter's publicized vindication) [Crest of Maurice] on his chest. "Nevertheless, I'm at least glad that someone is keeping a stiff upper lip during this commotion."
"Now now, Margrave Edmund, be nice," spoke a short redheaded man with light-lavender and deep violet Warlock's robes, who came walking in with a limp supported by his walking stick. "We all share a common hostile party aimed right towards us. No need to bother ourselves with more enemies piled onto our plate."
The Five Great Lords then all sit down at their seats around the Roundtable as Duke Riegan nods to his attendant to begin the meeting. "Gentlemen, I assume you're all informed of what is happening right now?"
"Makes me question why we're holding a meeting in the middle of a possible war zone," Margrave Goneril spoke out. "... Not that I'm complaining," he then brandished his [Brave Axe]. "Let them come, I say."
"Gentlemen, calm yourselves," Oswald spoke firmly. "First off, we must ascertain our current manpower before we tackle the situation at hand. For starters, all my maritime vessels that weren't set out to see were destroyed by an unknown enemy artillery along with the rest of the harbor, while those set out to sail has not yet returned. Assumptions aside, my ground forces and airborne division are fully staffed and ready to be deployed on my command, totaling around three-thousand."
"My cavalry of Paladins and Bow Knights are in no short supply, for which I have aaround five-hundred and fifty ready to mobilize in case of a possible ground invasion," spoke Count Gloucester. "In addendum, I've also requested for Marquis Judith von Daphnel's band of Heroes and Swordmasters to aid in our effort forces, and as an added bonus, she even managed to convince Viscount Acheron Lethe Phlegethon to supplement in our overall efforts with his band of Pegasus Knights and Assassins. In total sum, I bring a thousand battle-ready men."
"By convince, you mean 'threaten to castrate' the Weathervane courtesy of that spinster," snickered Margrave Goneril. "They pale compared to my legion of 900 of my Warriors and Grapplers. And leading them all is my eldest son, Holst. Not the brightest, but he fights with the might of a thousand men to more than compensate. They're all hardened by their encounters with the Almyrans crossing the border throughout their careers, so they'll know what to do when facing those camel jockeys."
"I brought the entire Eastern Church to my side as healers," Margrave Edmund spoke out. "My congregation of three-hundred of my Bishops will keep the attrition rate to a minimum. I've also coordinated with the Central Church's forces and established a refugee camp for the displaced civilians of Derdriu. Security concerns will be addressed as soon as the Church's additional help arrive."
"Thank you," nodded Duke Riegan as he then turned his head towards the Warlock. "Baron Ordelia, what of you?"
"... I brought artillery," the mousey man replied. "... Granted, my manpower is sorely lacking, but my forces of a hundred Snipers and Warlocks will keep our Ballistas and Fire Orbs operational. Just tell me when to order my men to fire."
"Thank you," nodded Duke Riegan. "Now that we're aware of our own capabilities, we must now move on to our enemy."
"We already know what we need to know," scoffed Margrave Goneril. "They're Almyrans. They fight like if its a huge party to them. As soon as they charge in towards us blindly, we meet them head on with a greater sum of force."
"But that's my main concern," spoke Oswald as he tented his hands together. "... Aside from that initial barrage that destroyed our harbor, why haven't they sent their fliers yet? Let alone, commence an immediate ground invasion?"
Count Gloucester ponders before figuring out something else. "... Come to think of it, when was the last time we were attacked by sea?" he pointed out. "And I'm not talking about corsairs and pirates invading our vessels, but rather an organized armada with firepower to match?"
"... Something's up then," Baron Ordelia agreed as he clutched the pommel of his cane. "They're not behaving as you assume, Margrave Goneril."
"Cowards, I say!" he then sprang up from his seat. "Just what are they doing?! Stewing about on the decks of their ships?!"
Margrave Edmund then recalled what both the message and Duke Riegan's testimony had said. "... Duke Riegan, a question."
"Speak," the old Duke replied.
"When you mentioned that the entire harbor was destroyed..." he inquired, "... how many shots did you exactly hear?!"
Oswald's eyes widened as he gulped loudly. "... One."
The Five Great Lords all felt their stomaches drop to their bowels in an instant.
"ONE?!" roared Margrave Goneril. "THAT'S LUDICROUS! NO SINGLE CANNON SHOT WOULD BE ENOUGH TO WIPE OUT AN ENTIRE HARBOR AND ITS WHOLE WORTH OF VESSELS!"
"... Come to think of it, I did hear a rumor about when Morfis was invaded," Baron Ordelia commented. "... Apparently, the invasion as so horribly one-sided because the Almyrans have developed a superweapon. A cannon so powerful that it wipes out small villages and castles with a single shot each."
But just before all of the Five Great Lords could discuss/argue of what was right or not, a Wyvern Knight then came rushing into the Roundtable Chamber. "I BRING URGENT NEWS!" he yelled. "OUR FORCES HAVE MADE A HARROWING DISCOVERY AT THE HARBOR!"
"Well, what is it?!" barked Margrave Goneril. "Spill it, my man!"
The Wyvern Knight then takes a deep breath before resuming his findings. "... We've pieced together the shards found around the wrecked harbor and found that the base of the cannonball was roughly the size of a cottage roof."
The Five Great Lords all go catatonic at this little revelation.
"... I'm sorry," Margrave Goneril shook his head. "WHAT?!"
Out at Sea...
On the decks of one of the many ships surrounding the Derdriu's waters, a royally-dressed young man can be seen pacing restlessly on the deck, shuffling back and forth as his displeasure could be noticed from up high in the foggy skies.
The young man growls before throwing a small tantrum. "This is stupid!" he yelled in Almyran. "We have our enemy on the ropes! So why aren't we conducting a ground invasion as of now?!"
"Because you have no plans after you hit the ground running, brother Shahid," spoke an authoritative voice from above the ship's masts, her silhouette barely visible through the thick fog cast above.
Then the shadow jumped back down, rappelling from rope to rope, mast to mast, and sail to sail, with each nimble step taken with the most delicate of precision before landing before Shahid on the deck, revealing herself to be a woman a head shorter than her brother, her expressionless face wrapped in a veiled hijab with several pieces of simple light plate armor covering her body. Despite her less-than stellar appearance, no one could deny an air of authority that she exudes, making Shahid appear more akin to a man who doesn't know his place before this serene dame smelling like holy blood.
"I have no need for plans when I'm exterminating those ground-kissing cowards, Khawlah!" Shahid remarked. "Our military might is twice-nay, thrice that of those Fodlaners!"
"And who's the constant failure that keeps sending fresh academy-graduates to that border in the same formation, the same unit types, and the same tactics of 'group up and hit it until it dies' again, and again?" Khawlah bluntly pointed out. "Who is the abysmal failure that keeps attacking the exact same spot on Fodlan while there were clearly other angles to invade from? And who is exactly the one who can't let go of his pride and paranoia just because his greatest political rival might still be alive even after that assassination attempt over a decade ago?!"
"Prissy prude," the Ameer ("Prince") growled.
"Ignoramus," the Amira ("Princess") growled back.
Then just before either of them could draw their [Shamshirs] at each other, a burly man with a pair of scars over his face intervened, his thick tunic swaying in the dissipating vacuum created by the two's bloodlust aimed towards one another.
"That's enough, the both of you!" he barked out, causing the two to stop drawing their blades mid-sheath (with Khawlah drawn further out than Shahid's). "Your father has specifically ordered me to ensure both of your safety during this operation! And I will not compromise on that order regardless of either of your personal feelings or circumstances! Understood?!"
Both grumble before sheathing back their [Shamshirs] and apologizing. "Yes Naqib ("Captain") Nader."
"That's better," the man nodded. "Now then, Amira Khawlah, what is your plan?"
"Keep our enemy's heads down with this," she pointed towards the giant monolith that was rigged onto the ship they were on.
In fact, the "ship" that they were on was less of a "ship" and more of an entire city floating about and propelled like a legitimate seafaring vessel. And peeking itself out of the massive deck, the "monolith" was actually a cannon that was to scale to Fodlan's Conand Tower, its matte, dull-gray sheen gleaming from the rising moonlight piercing though the fog.
"My magnum opus, the [Dantalion Cannon], can fire custom payloads that can level cities at my command," explained the Amira. "The first shot was both a warning and to further limit their options for attempted engagement. Now, they'll assume that we're prepared for a ground invasion, which is when our next phase comes in."
From the ship's cabins, a pair of malnourished and beaten men with their heads covered in hoods were dragged onto the deck in chains before they were forced to kneel by keffiyeh-wearing men in armor that were aerodynamic in design and function.
"With these two hostages, we can open for negotiations," she wickedly grinned, the two not understanding what Khawlah was saying but knew that it wasn't anything good. "Given their emblems on their armor and robes, they line up with very important figures within Fodlan's hierarchy. Combined with their bleeding heart that they call their customs, we can force them to capitulate to our demands, like say... hand over our stolen territory that those pink-haired barbarians are holding onto."
"And what about me?" asked Shahid.
"You and your men's asses are to be parked on the [Zaratan]-class supercarrier that we're on, and the [Bahamut]-class galleons full of your own men are to remain still until I give the say-so," the Amira ordered. "We're not the ones placating to our enemy and their presumptions. They're going to placate to us, in due time."
Then keffiyeh-wearing men under Khawlah's command run up towards his Amira. "Amira, our forward scouts have spotted the enemy detachment of fliers heading towards us!"
Khawlah then peers through the fog, spotting a foppish-looking man with curled blond hair and thin mustache mounted behind a woman riding a pegasus along with similar-looking rank-and-file that flew adjacent around him.
The group of fliers then all land onto the deck of the [Zaratan], the blond man adjusting his cravat before approaching Khawlah...
"... What the?!"
... And then throwing himself before her two feet. "PLEASE I BEG OF YOU!" he plead pathetically. "I-I, VISCOUNT ACHERON LETHE PHLEGETON, SHALL JOIN YOUR CAUSE! JUST PLEASE! SPARE MY LIFE!"
Khawlah then looked towards Shahid. "... Brother, translate."
"He's basically begging for his life and is now attempting to defect to our side," he pointed out, being one of the few Almyrans that know how to speak fluid Fodlan tongue.
"Ask him everything he knows about our enemy," she requested, to which Shahid proceeded to do so, reassuring the sad little man before informing him of the conditions.
After finishing the world's easiest interrogation, both siblings smiled at their fortuitous tidings.
"I see," nodded Khawlah as she was told of the enemy's forces and capabilities. "So they are expecting a ground invasion. Predictable, but I think we can work this to our advantage. Maybe change a few things around my plan to acquire a larger total sum."
"Finally, you're speaking my language," smiled Shahid.
Then the Amira whispers something into the Ameer's ear before he spoke to the desperate Viscount in Fodlan tongue. "Fear not, your safety is guaranteed, and the Alliance won't know that you disappeared until it is too late for them."
Khawlah then turns towards Nader. "... Naqib Nader, can you check on all of the [Bahamut]-class galleons to see if the men aren't slacking at their posts?"
The man sighs, knowing what she was implying, knowing full and well that at least time, he didn't have to worry about the half-siblings murdering each other while they were in this similar of a wavelength. "... I'll make myself scarce."
He then got onto his wyvern and left for the surrounding smaller ships for "routine inspection."
"Thankyouthankyouthankyou!" whimpered Viscount Acheron Lethe Phlegethon. "I am in your debt! So, what are your orders?!"
Shahid translated what the Viscount had said to Khawlah. "Well, I guess for starters..."
She then whistles loudly, the sound resonating throughout the foggy air surrounding them.
Then faint screeches could be heard from afar, prompting the hostages to be taken back inside.
"... Wow, the seagulls are kinda loud, don't you think?" the Viscount engaged in small-talk to loosen the tension.
However, the screeches grew louder and closer. In fearful curiosity, Acheron then looked up towards the masts, and found that the seagulls were way too big.
Khawlah smiles as she then drew her [Shamshir] from its scabbard.
"Tell them to stay around for dinner."
At the Temporary Refugee Camp...
"MAKE WAY! MAKE WAY!" roared Cyrus as his horse menacingly brayed, parting the crowd lest they get trampled. "GOLDEN DEER AND THE DUSTBIN COMING THROUGH!"
The two wagons then roll through the dirt road before reaching their designated checkpoint, waiting for them being none other than Marquis Judith von Daphnel herself.
"Sorry for the rough entry, but I am suspecting that we're short on time," Karna pointed out as he and the others disembarked.
"No one was hurt, no Demonic Beasts or bandits taking advantage of this chaos, all of you, follow me," the Marquis ordered as she led the others to Derdriu.
As the group then walk down towards the now-besieged coastal city, they then spot a pink-haired man brimming with muscles through his armor as his square-chinned face beamed a smile.
"BROTHER!" Hilda exclaimed.
Then a murderous intent began to surge from Cyrus.
"Slow your roll, mister," ordered Karna. "We're in their land now. We play by their rules."
"He'll receive his due as well," he muttered under his breath.
"First of all, thank you all for being here," spoke the man. "I am Holst Sigiswald Goneril. A pleasure to make an acquaintance to you all!"
"... Likewise," Cyrus venomously remarked.
Holst sighs. "... Can we put aside personal grudges until the enemy doesn't blow up our city and our people's livelihoods?" he asked. "... I read the letters from my sister. Was the past years we spent together meant nothing?"
"If by nothing, you mean to turn me into one of those neutered dogs at your estate that you call 'Almyran,' then yes, I equate your attempts of 'civilizing' me to that of a rotting carcass," the Battuian snarled.
Judith then looked towards Karna concernedly. "... And the Church couldn't send anyone else?"
"Look, the Black Eagles and the Blue Lions are assisting their nations quelling the uptick of Demonic Beasts, Manuela's still learning how to live with one functioning eye, and overall being that short-staffed, sadly, we're the only ones left willing to give a damn," Karna pointed out. "And that goes for all of you. If catch any infighting, I will kill you all myself!"
"... A bit harsh," Claude blinked before looking at the utter murder sparking between Hilda and Cyrus, with Holst being the one to prevent a brawl/attempted mutual murder from breaking out in public, "... but understandable."
"I do not envy them in the slightest," sighed Lorenz. "... Stiff upper lip, everyone. We're here."
The group then find themselves standing before the Alliance's parliamentary building. Judith then walks up to the guards before speaking to them, followed shortly after her doubling back.
"Okay, so the building cannot take all of us in, so some of us are gonna help them out on guard duty," Judith explained. "Claude, Lorenz, Karna, you're coming in with me. The rest of you, stick close to our men in yellow standards, understood?"
"Works for me," Holst nodded before he glanced at Cyrus. "Hey Cyrus, you wanna check out the new sword I found-?"
"GET THAT INFERNAL DEVICE AWAY FROM ME AND MY HORSE!" he jumped back into a defensive posture, pointing his [Gradivus] at the muscular Swordmaster. "... Where the fuck, did you get your hands on a [Zhanmadao]?!"
"Oh this?" he looked at his new blade. "... I... nicked it off an Almyran Swordmaster that led last month's raid. He made me work for it, even went as far as to chip my [Wingthresher] to the point where I had to leave it behind for extensive repairs."
"Well you kiddos have fun!" Karna exclaimed as he, Claude, Lorenz, and Judith walked inside as the doors closed behind the four of them.
"... What is a... zan... madao?" asked Lorenz as he and the others walked down the guarded halls.
"[Zhanmadao] means 'horse-cutting sword' in Shangri-La scripture," explained the Professor. "... Do the math."
"Oh yeah, guess a sword designed to kill horses would be anathema to a culture where they live and die on their horses," Claude remarked. "... I doubt he meant any malice."
"Me too," agreed Karna. "... He's just an idiot when it comes to dealing people not on his wavelength."
"You two talked to each other?" asked Judith.
"Once," he answered. "Small talk at best. He was still green back then, but I'm glad to see that some things haven't changed much, unlike some other brother who did a complete about-face."
"That's rough buddy," shrugged Judith. "... But given your track record, I think you're doing well for yourself."
"Aw, that's the nicest thing a person has said to me!" Karna beamed liked a dork as soon as he reached the double doors. "... I'll be on the best of my behavior for just that!"
He then pushes the hinged panels and enters into the Roundtable Chamber.
"Thank you for coming," Duke Riegan nodded before noticing an odd person out. "... The Church is that short-staffed?"
"It is a pity that Sir Alois and Sir Gilbert aren't with us at the present," Karna bowed his head. "On the Church's behalf, I humbly apologize."
"Cut the crap, Black Cat," growled Margrave Goneril. "You ain't gaining my favor just by pretending to be nice, you filthy hermit."
"I promised Marquis Daphnel that I'd be on my best behavior," Karna spoke in a mild manner. "That, and we're are at a possible war with Almyra, so cooler heads must prevail or else we'll all die."
"Hello, grandfather," Claude bowed his head. "I'm sorry if I couldn't arrive sooner."
"For me as well, father," Lorenz also bowed his head.
"We're all just glad that you all came regardless," Duke Riegan reassured. "... I assume all of your were informed of our situation?"
"Indeed," Karna nodded before looking around for a moment in silence. "... And the scouts haven't returned yet?"
"We addressed that during our meeting and motioned to send out another search party," Count Gloucester addressed. "Viscount Phelegeton was insistent to volunteer, and he was the only one among us save Duke Riegan's forces to have fliers."
Karna's eyes widened. "... Permission to speak freely?"
"I see why not," Baron Ordelia replied.
"Thank you," Karna replied before he began speaking. "... ARE YOU ALL OUT OF YOUR COLLECTIVE MINDS, YOU SENILE, GERIATRIC MORONS?!"
"And there it is..." sighed Margrave Goneril. "... Honestly, this is way better than his feigned politeness."
"You just off of negative emotions, don't you?" Margrave Edmund deadpanned.
"I have to accept the fact that my Crest-bearing daughter might be a lesbian to your adopted daughter, so yes, maybe!" he growled back.
"Fuck you too," the other Margrave flipped the pink-haired man off as Karna began his rant.
"ALL OF YOU KNOW WELL THAT THE WEATHERVANE OF ALL PEOPLE IS A THE LEAST LOYAL OF THE NOBLES!" the Professor began. "THE SLUG IN THE SKIN OF A MAN WILL MOST LIKELY TURN ON ALL OF US AS SOON AS HE REACHES THE ENEMY! GIVE HIM AN INCH, HE'LL TAKE THE WHOLE FUCKING MILE!"
"If you're concerned about having us facing him, you worry too much," Margrave Goneril remarked. "Hell, that just give me an excuse to kill him legally."
"KILLING HIM IS THE FURTHEST THING FROM A CONCERN! EVEN I KNOW THAT MUCH!" he barked out. "WHAT I'M INSINUATING IS THAT HE HAS FULL KNOWLEDGE OF OUR FORMATIONS AND MILITARY ASSETS! ENEMY TACTICIANS PRACTICALLY DROOL OVER FOR THAT KIND OF EXCLUSIVE INFORMATION!"
"... That's really bad," Baron Ordelia gulped.
"Putting it lightly, Lysithea's dad," Clauded muttered.
"Doubt it," grumbled Margrave Goneril. "I faced those camel jockeys several times over. They don't even speak a lick of Fodlan-"
Then just before the brash Margrave can finish his sentence, the oculus skylight over their Roundtable Chamber shatters as something heavy was dropped onto and through the transparent screen of glass. As the shards rained upon the Roundtable, a bloody sack tied at its end the size of a large boulder lands onto the center, causing the seats' occupants to nearly jump out.
Then silence. All that were heard was the remnant shards of the skylight falling onto the table and the faintest of screeches being heard from the evening sky.
"... I volunteer as tribute," Karna spoke as he raised his hand before jumping up onto the table and walking across it. Upon reaching the center, he then unties the cord around the bloody sack and reveals a collection of heads inside, one of which belonging to Viscount Acheron Lethe Phlegethon.
"WHAT THE HELL?!" Lorenz cried out.
"Welp, guess already onto us," sighed Claude.
The revealed contents then rolled around the table's surface, causing everyone (sans the Professor and Oswald, the latter doing his best to save face) to freak out at this horrible sight.
"Now now people!" Karna then whistled loudly to get everyone to stop panicking. "Let's not lose all our heads just yet."
"Not funny..." Oswald sighed as he shook his head. "... Crudeness aside, yes, we must remain calm at our enemy's... provocation."
"Provocation?!" Margrave Goneril growled out as he pointed to the spilling decapitated heads. "THIS IS EASILY THE MOST BLATANT DECLARATION OF WAR AS IT CAN GET!"
"Nope, by Almyran standards, this is tame," he pointed out as he then picked up the Viscount's head by its hair. "This is a warning."
"Um, Professor Yuga?" stammered Baron Ordelia as he pointed to the head. "... There's something bulging through its cheek."
Karna then notices the bump before cramming his hand into the head's mouth and pulls out a ball of crumpled paper. He then unfolds the ball before handing it to the Five Great Lords.
"... What are these chicken scratches?" asked Margrave Goneril.
"Give it here," Karna then snatched the paper from the five before reading it out loud. "We are already onto your capabilities, so cease your military operations and prepare for negotiations. Terms and conditions will be stated as soon as we meet."
"You know how to read that kind of handwriting?" asked Claude.
"It's Almyran script, Khalid," Karna blurted out. "... Seriously? None of you know how to read Almyran after years-no, DECADES, of having them knock their heads against your back doors?!"
"I kill those savages, not break bread with them," Margrave Goneril remarked before facing Claude. "... No offense."
"None taken," sighed Claude. "And in my defense, I was like... what? Five? Yeah, around five or seven when I left. I can only speak some Almyran, but I'm rusty."
Duke Riegan sighs as he shook his head before turning to Marquis Daphnel. "... Lady Judith, do I have your consent to trust Professor Yuga to handle the possible negotiations with Almyra?"
Judith raises an eyebrow before remembering that she had a contact on the other side of the border. And hopes that he wasn't one of the people that were swept up in this chaos. "... Sure. I mean, out of all of us, he's practically the only one who knows what he's doing."
"TO HELL WITH THAT!" roared Margrave Goneril. "I'D SAY WE KILL THEM ALL!"
As the Roundtable Chambers then fell into a loud argument, outside of the Parliamentary Building, the Golden Deer and the Dustbin were hanging around while Hilda and Cyrus sat across from each other, each sporting a black eye and several scratches and bruises all over their faces. In between the two was Holst, who was also sporting a black eye and several scratches across his own square-jawed face.
"When did my baby sister become like this?" bemoaned Holst as Byron then sat next to him.
"Don't beat yourself up too much," the Eligor remarked. "... You're not a bad person. You're just ignorant to how his culture works."
"Which is?" the Swordmaster asked.
"Well, for starters, how did you two first meet?" asked Byron.
"I mean... I thinking during my earlier encounter with the Almyrans, he was on his horse, sweeping through my men, and when I saw a kid roughly my size, I... kinda felt a kindred spirit between us. A sort of... brother from another mother kind of deal. A person who has expectations riding on their backs, to be sent out to war at such a tender age."
"I don't need your pity," growled Cyrus. "It was my choice. You should've killed me like any other enemy."
"I don't kill kids," Holst defended. "Enemy or not, I refuse to cross that line."
"... Funny, because I would kill off an orphanage's worth of children if I was ordered to," the Battuian Bow Knight remarked with a grin. "Or just take them as my tribesmen's slaves. Either one is fine with me."
"... You know that there's a whole world out there that doesn't just revolve around just your family and culture, right?" Holst pointed out. "... I mean, take me as an example. I'm churchgoer myself, but I don't worship the Goddess at the expense of all of my reason. I make my own morals on what's right and wrong."
"So why do you keep insisting killing Almyrans while taking their children to your estate as servants under the pretense of 'civilizing' them?" asked Cyrus. "Is it because you consider that less evil then letting them join their family?"
"... I only did it because if I don't, the people I defend are going to die or worse, enslaved," answered the Swordmaster. "... I'm trying to make the world less zero-sum."
"Sorry, but that viewpoint will get you killed in my world," Cyrus gritted his teeth. "And taking into account of your view of there being a bigger world beyond my own side, I'd say screw you, I hate the outside world that you've forced me into. Cruel as my world is, we leave no tolerance for even the smallest of hypocrites. We kill, we take, we rape, what we see, when we feel, and how it will feed us, because we assume everyone else will do the same to us. That is how Battu operates. Fodlan's culture breeds nothing but weakness to the natural world."
"I can kill you right here and now if you want," Hilda growled.
"You had your chance years ago, Hilda Valantine Goneril," Cyrus snapped back. "You, your brother, and your whole family has made an enemy of me by dishonoring me with your arrogance."
"So why don't you kill me now?" asked Hilda. "I'm welcome to that challenge."
"... Because as much as I hated what you and family had done to me," he stated before licking his lips, "... I discovered a sick sense of pleasure that was addicting. I think the saying went as... 'fattening the cattle,' yes! That! I need to kill you and your family at their highest and most desperate... so I can feel the rush in my glands licking all over me like a raging forest fire! ... Surely, you don't consider me that short-sighted, no? Well, you might be right, but really, this could all have been avoided if you'd killed me sooner, Holst."
The Swordmaster and War Cleric then found themselves positionally surrounded by the rest of the Dustbin, with Holst spotting Selene eyeing on him from afar while chatting with Ignatz and Raphael, Topaz and Sorcha keeping their hands on their blades while within engagement distance, and Vidar staring at him from above the rooftops, with Byron's [Perun]'s axe blade placed before Holst's throat beneath his notice.
"I have friends now," Cyrus boasted. "I now have further reason to postpone this little revenge fantasy of mine. But for now, I'll play your game. But as soon as graduation is over and done with... I let your whole family live under the shadow of my people's reconquest."
Byron then removes [Perun] from Holst's throat. "... Sorry man," he apologized. "You've kinda picked the wrong person to spare. But then again, none of this is your fault. It's just Cyrus went in there that day and expecting to die gloriously."
"... I think I'll never understand," sighed the Swordmaster. "... But I still want to try."
Up on the roof, Vidar's nose twitched as he then looked back. "... Something... coming... SELENE! I NEED EYES!"
She then whistles for Morrigan to then pick up and fly into the air, allowing her to see what was was coming through the haze out at sea.
"... I see fliers," she muttered as she then squinted to better make out the identity of said fliers coming through the setting sun's dimming glare and the fog. "... DER NOT WEARIN' YELLOW! ENEMY FORCES INBOUND! WE'RE UNDA ATTACK!"
Holst then bursts up from where he sat before facing Cyrus. "... Can I trust you to not turn on us?"
"Eh, you're too soft to think that we have qualms killing our own countrymen," he smirked as he then jumped onto Darius' back. "We don't."
Approaching Derdriu were Shahid, Nader, and several Wyvern Knights flanked by several [Bahamut]-class galleons carrying the rest of their men to battle.
"Ameer Shahid, is it wise to send Madrasa Academy graduates to battle?" asked the Naqib. "I mean, Amira Khawlah changed parts of her plan to allow you to attack the enemy... I mean they're a bit fresh for this, aren't they?!"
"Do not doubt the best of the best, Nader," the Ameer replied. "My personal battalion, the [Rashidun] shall make short work of these Fodlander cowards! They are the perfect soldiers! Perfect marks and this battle shall be the perfect way to break in their skills!"
He then turned back to his fellow fliers as he then raised his personal battleaxe, the [Dahaka].
"MEN! IT IS TIME!" he roared. "KILL EVERYONE THAT DARE STANDS IN YOUR WAY! FIND THE WOMEN AND CHILDREN AND TAKE THEM TO OUR SHIPS AS OUR SLAVES! THIS BATTLE SHALL BE OUR GLORIOUS FIRST CHAPTER TO THE NEW ALMYRAN CALIPHATE, LED BY ME!"
"PALMYRA AKBAR!" the [Rashidun] roared in unison as all of them raised their weapons in the air. "GLORY TO THE CALIPHATE! MAY OUR BORDERS BE PAINTED RED!"
"ATTACK!" Shahid roared as he then flew faster on his wyvern as the rest of his men followed.
To Be Continued...
Author's Notes: Happy 2024, everyone! And oh boy, a ton of shit went down while I was gone.
Someone on my personal Discord brought me onto a webcomic project as a writer (look up Highborne by Diahborne), my Black Clover AU fic's latest chapter clocked in around 57k words in three weeks, New Year's money, and a ton of other shit I can't make out along with a ton of sweets from my neighbors, almost makes the edge of having a hard time finding a paying part-time job feel semi-nonexistent.
That said, this chapter is when Almyra strikes not from Fodlan's Throat, but right to the Alliance's capital of Derdriu. Took em long enough, but hey, give Khawlah some credit, she had a point when the Goneril border was nigh-impossible to penetrate.
As for her, yeah, she's the Cornelia (from Code Geass) of her siblings. Military-minded, practical, and ready for a scrap. But with a cooler head and knows how to use the carrot aside from the stick (like Shahid), and the infamous Morfis-killer, the [Dantalion Cannon], wiping out the majority of the Alliance's navy and harbor.
Aside from that, here's the relationship between Cyrus and the Goneril Siblings, once more in context:
Holst is an honorable man who has his own personal code of good and evil, and his code of honor compelled him to make an enemy his friend if its possible, in this case, Cyrus.
Cyrus however, is a person who comes from a culture that is basically "kill or be killed." He doesn't stray from that philosophy, and his initial cowardice and desperation during the beginning of this story was him... losing his mind. In fact, he kinda went into Fodlan's Throat fully expecting to die, but was spared by Holst and taken in by the Goneril family ala Cyril.
Unlike Cyril, Cyrus viewed this mercy as a dishonor, which to him, is basically no different from being caught and taken in as a slave. He fully demanded to die on that day, but coming to a world where violence is an option and not a requirement, the culture shock was too much for him to bear and just warped him into a bit of a pathetic mess.
However, thanks to Karna, Cyrus was able to "regrow" is fangs, now turning his own fear and humiliation into rage and a lust for vengeance. It is this regaining of confidence and heavy miscommunication (deliberate on Cyrus's part) that he was able to be "reborn" and that now sees himself as a rebel who must destroy his "oppressors," when in reality, Holst just wanted to make him a family friend, not knowing that he pissed him off until it was too late.
Basically, in SMT terms, Holst is Lawful-Light with Cyrus being Chaotic-Neutral leaning towards Dark. They're not gonna see eye to eye anymore. But the worst part is that neither of them are to blame for this, but rather their upbringings.
Also, regarding the Leicester Alliance's (or any nations') nobles and their titles in the previous chapters where they were mentioned, I may or may not have gotten them wrong. If it's the former, then please tell me which chapter is it at and where in said chapter I need to make the correction. Because apparently, I didn't do my bloody research beforehand.
That said, due to the "webcomic" reason stated above, I'm slowing down operations for my fic writing just to make sure that I don't burn myself out in-between job searching, volunteer work, and webcomic script writing.
Wish me luck.
References:
- The exchange between the two Soldiers patrolling Derdriu's ports is a reference to Red VS Blue Season 1, Episode 1, "Why Are We Here?"
- Lord Arundel/Sage Thales' line when offered wine is from the Mel Brooks film, "Dracula: Dead and Loving It."
- The setup for Kronya's lobotomy is thematically based off Fear and Hunger (the smock coming from the Crow Mauler's waist cloth), Danganronpa 3 Side: Despair (specifically, Episode 9, "Chisa Yukizome Doesn't Smile"), and Onihei (2017).
- Khawlah, half-sister of Claude/Khalid and Shahid is named after Khawla bin al-Azwar, an Arab Muslim warrior from the 7th Century who fought alongside her brother Dhiraar during the Muslim Conquest of the Levent. She even led a battalion of women against the Byzantine army, and won after slaying the enemy commander. Allegedly met her end after being wounded by a Greek soldier during one of her battles, although some historians doubt that Khawlah ever existed in real life or not. Also a massive thanks to the Guest Reviewer from Chapter/Day 31's review. I learned a lot.
- Almyra's new superweapon, the [Dantalion Cannon] is based off the IRL Dardanelles Gun used by the by the Ottoman Empire to bring down the Wall of Constantinople (and in-story, wiped Morfis off the map), while taking cues from MH: Rise's Scattering Wyvernshot Cannon and MH4's Demolisher, and named after the 71st Demon of Arc Goetia, Dantalion, who can teach all arts and sciences to anyone, declare anyone's secret agreements, knows the thoughts of all men and women and can change them as he pleases at will, can cause the love of a person for another, and show a person to the summoner no matter what part of the world that they are in.
- The [Zaratan]-class supercarrier housing the [Dantalion Cannon] is named after the mythological sea turtles so massive that their shells are mistaken (or sometimes are) islands, first (dismissively) penned by Al-Jahiz during the 9th Century, in his book, the Kitāb al-Ḥayawān ("The Book of Animals" in Arabic). It's design is based off Primal Season 2's Colossaeus ships, specifically the one captained/ruled by Ima, the Egyptian Queen. Also, the [Bahamut]-class galleons are named after one of the three beings (fish/whale, bull, and angel) that held up the world.
- The "Madrasa Academy" mentioned by Nader is named after the Arabic word pertaining to any Islamic educational institution in the Arab world. In this fic, Madrasa Academy is Almyra's equivalent to Garreg Mach Monastery's Officer's Academy.
- Shahid's personal Battalion of Wyvern Knights, the [Rashidun], means "the rightly-guided/perfect" in Arabic, and named after the Rashidun Caliphate that succeeded after Muhammad the Prophet, spreading Islam from 632-61 AD (which, funnily enough, Khawlah bin al-Azwar was also a part of its military). Also, their battle cry "Palmyra Akbar" is based off the infamous "Allahu Akbar"/"God is the greatest" used by various jihad groups, and Palmyra is the name of an ancient Syrian city that Almyra was named after.