The Dustbin

Day 32: Ghost Stories Part 3

The next few days go by without anything happening. Seteth as usual was still spearheading the search and rescue for his missing family member, the remainder of the Dustbin kept themselves busy by continuing to survey the entire underground of the Church with the help of the Ashen Wolves, the Knight of Seiros searching the nearby villages now begun another investigation of where the kidnapper went or if to report in on any suspicious activity (with Shamir and her squadron being in charge to discredit any spiteful falsehoods brought in) and Rhea herself was in charge of making sure that everyone remained calm and for the first time in her life, pray that the Dustbin make it back alive from below.

4 whole days had passed and Flayn was still nowhere to be found. Another day after, the Dustbin were nowhere to be found.

A whole week has passed since Karna and his group had gone missing. Now Professor Byleth Eisner's class of Black Eagles must now be deployed.

13th of Horsebow Moon, Morning

"Alright kiddos, today's class is cancelled," informed Byleth as she and her class stood before the secret passageway punched open in Manuela's (temporarily) vacated office, "instead, today's class is fieldwork. Location..." she then looked down the hole, now with a proper rope ladder secured by its side thanks to her dad's men doing the handiwork, "... about a couple paces underground, where the rats live and where Flayn has been dragged into."

Edelgard recoils back at her words before composing herself. "... Y-yes," she stated with a repressed shudder of horror, "... we must save Flayn."

"To the deepdark then?" Hubert then peered down the hole himself, "... just like coming back home..." he clicked his tongue in disgust and mirth, "... mine smelled better."

"Don't let me go, no matter what!" Bernadetta tied ropes around her waist before trying to anchor herself to Dorothea, "I don't wanna get lost down there!"

"Seconded," Dorothea nodded while wiping off a nervous sweat off her brow, "... a rat infested hellhole? On my top three worst places to die."

"Make it the three of us," Ferdinand sighed before composing himself, "still, even as a noble, retreating at the sight of mere muck would be much worse than being in it!" he declared, "I will swim to excrement and urine to get Flayn back to the surface!"

"Never fought bad guys in a cramped area before," Caspar mentioned as he pounded his knuckle against his palm, "can't wait for this learning experience!"

"Yeah yeah, do that," Linhardt yawned out, "let's just get this over with. My ironic hell of going into the most quietest place on earth to nap is going to ruined by ankle-deep filth."

Petra slapped her cheeks to collect her bearings after getting denounced by her disgraced retainer. "... Indeed," she sighed, trying to focus on the mission at hand, "let us proceed."

Byleth then goes down the ladder first. "Ladies first," she spoke as she climbed down, "the boys don't need to see what we're wearing today."

"Professor!" Edelgard blushed before she quickly followed in without thinking.

"How rude!" Ferdinand snapped, "such vulgarity is not befitting of nobility such as I!"

Before Petra can speak, Dorothea shushes her with a finger to her lips. "Ah ah ah," she tutted with a wink, "don't give them any more ideas."

Petra then goes down before being followed by Dorothea herself. After that, Bernadetta hunkers down the ladder herself.

"... Alright," Hubert then picks up an unlit [Torch], "let us hope that the Dustbin knows anything about marking the way they went in," he snarked as he climbed down, "because surely, no one would dullard enough to get themselves killed down there."

"And I lost my appetite for the rest of the day," Linhardt sighed as he followed down, "someone be a dear and secure me an entire urn of sugar to regain the taste that was cruelly ripped away from me by the time we get back to the civilized world."

"Later," Caspar jumped in, "for now, adventure!"

Byleth then meets the rest of the class down in the open sewers, the splashes indicating the number of the students that came down successfully. Upon hearing the eighth, Byleth then lights the [Torch] with a piece of flint ground against the blade of her [Sword of the Creator].

You know, using an ancient artifact akin to a common tool is rather indicative, commented Sothis, you have a knife on you, so why don't you use it?

Might drop it, Byleth replied, we're short on time, so might as well take the easy way out.

Ugh, you win, the spirit sighed, lead the way, for even I can't see in the dark.

Byleth grumbles to herself as she lights the way forward. "Alright kiddos," she then began traversing through the muck, silently cursing herself for not wearing actual pants rather than her current shorts with leggings and boots, the air howling though the tunnels making her feel less covered for the job than usual, "... don't get lost."

The Black Eagles begin their traversal through the darkness and filth to find Seteth's kin.

At the Abyss...

"Worried?" asked Yuri, looking at Sorcha.

"Is it dat obvious?" she replied with a raised eyebrow.

"Yuri would refer to you as the kind of person who would, and I quote, 'wear their hearts on their sleeve'," Constance interjected, standing over the two of them from behind, "logically speaking, one doesn't simply not come back for a whole week without something horrid happening to them. I'm glad to see that you're reasonably sane to have some degree of concern."

"Yah yah, fek ye too," Sorcha flipped the noblewoman off before going back to her moping, "... I know that der strong. It's just that I wish I can be der for dem, just to be sure."

The three of them stand at the ledge of the bridge that were one of many that webbed across the underground sanctuary, looking down at the crawling crowd from below. Sorcha herself hated being weak, but right now, she somehow felt something that was even worse.

"... I hate being worried," Sorcha remarked, "I hate being left out, being not told what de fek is goin' on, and worst of all, I hate waitin' for things to happen when I should be der, with me class through thick and thin," she then flipped back from the bridge's edge and landing right next to Constance, "me da taught me that I got to look out for me whoever I consider close. Friends, family, those I trust..." her mind then drifted towards Petra, causing her to instinctively bare her gritted teeth, "... and the thing I hate the most... being lied to and betrayed."

"I thought you hate being worried the most," Yuri pointed out.

"I hate a lot of things," Sorcha bluntly replied before sighing, "... der's so many things that are shite with this world that I just wanna break it if I could."

"You, me, Yuri, and the denizens down here altogether," Constance remarked as she flicked open her fan, "but what mere mortals can do against fate itself? Can we grab onto wind and go for a ride? Can we eat fire and put it out by sucking it in like air?" she pondered, "... everyone's only human below the Goddess, I suppose. We cannot do anything but compromise with what we're given at the time. I can't bring my slain kin back from the dead after they were put to the sword by your people by doing the same to you. I can only hope to rebuild from the ground up someday."

"Bah, none taken," Sorcha smirked before chuckling to herself, "I guess that's why I'm so fight-happy: de world just makes more sense when I'm in the thick of it."

"We all have our own ways," Yuri mirthfully laughed before jumping back next to where Constance was, "honestly, I'm quite jealous of people with a sense of absolution, Goddess or not."

The three then share a small laugh before walking elsewhere.

Back at the Surface...

A knocking sound was heard through the doors of Seteth's office.

"I'm a little busy!" exclaimed the administrator as he scrambled through the mountains of papers on his work desk, "another time, please-"

"Seteth, it Rhea," spoke the voice from the other side of the door, "please, we need to talk."

Seteth lets out a defeated sigh as he walked up to the doors to unlock them before opening them, revealing the Archbishop standing at the other side.

Rhea clasps her mouth with both of her hands in shock as she took a step back. "... Oh Goddess," she gasped upon seeing her adherent's walnut-sized bags under his eyes, "... Seteth dear... you look awful!"

"Can't stop working," he muttered as he led the Archbishop into his messy office, "had a lead. We were so close, so... close!"

Rhea lets out a concerned sigh as she looked around his trashed office. "... How long has it been since you've slept?"

"Don't remember," he replied, still shuffling through the evidence papers and incoming reports, "too busy. Karna told me, Flayn's survival, depends on my ability, to keep calm," he jittered in half-broken sentences, "I am calm," he lied to himself, "I am calm... I am calm... I am calm-"

A loud smack resonated throughout his office, causing Seteth to shut up and Rhea to have tears pooling from the corner of her eyes.

"Seteth," Rhea spoke plainly, the palm of her hand still stinging slightly after the slap, "... be honest. Are you sure, that you're calm?" she asked bluntly, "are able to claim, right now, that you're a calm and reasonable person as you claim to be, right now?"

Seteth sobs a little. "... No," he choked as his knees grew weak, "... I'm not okay," he confessed, "I feel sick, my heart feels too heavy for my chest, and all I can hear for these past 4 nights are Flayn screaming at me for help, over and over again and again!"

Rhea then embraces Seteth in her arms and bosom. "I'm here for you," she reassured, "we're all in this together. We'll find her, you must have faith."

The administrator then breaks down crying, his tears and snot wetting the Archbishop's white garments, the latter not minding since consoling her loyal adherent was a greater concern then her appearance.

"... I hate this!" he sobbed, "I hate the fact that Flayn has to be saved by the Dustbin of all people, I hate that I let her kidnapper get away when I was so close, and both of it is really stressing me out!" he screamed into the Archbishop's bosom, "the food tastes like dirt, my heart feels like its made of lead and I hate all of this is happening! I hate that Karna of all people put all of this pressure on me and the fact that he's right!" he kept screaming, letting out his deepest insecurities and pains, "I am the Church's administrative head... I have to keep calm under pressure but it sucks that I have to do this alone!"

Rhea hugs him tighter. "Just because someone's right doesn't mean that they're right," she rebuked Karna's words, "one may speak the painful truth, but if its done out of spite towards the recipient, then the truth is worth less than a lie."

Seteth's sobs grew softer, running dry of tears and slowly easing back into comfort.

"Have faith," spoke the Archbishop, "the Black Eagles will accomplish what the Dustbin cannot. They will make all this right in the end. I'm sure of it."

Seteth sniffles. "... Flayn," he softly sobbed, "... she's the only family I have left."

"I know," the Archbishop reassured her most loyal friend, "she's family to me too."

At an Undisclosed Underground Location...

"Wakey wakey..." sang a voice as Karna and the others woke up, the black fog of drowsiness being slowly lifted from their minds, "... and good morning to you too!"

All four let out a wide yawn all at once. "... Mornin' you human garbage," smirked Karna, noticing that their arms are chained to the cage's bars, with all four of them crammed into a cage large enough for only a large animal to fit in, "... you need a bigger cell, bro."

Metodey chuckles to himself a bit. "... Still got a mouth on ya, doncha?" he smirked back, "oh don't worry, I'll let you lot talk... under my terms specifically."

"What? Physical torture?" snarked Byron, "try us. One of us can't feel pain, one of us is a raging masochist, and the rest of us are just dying for stimulation."

Metodey chuckles to himself. "Oh no no no no no," he shook his head, "thumbscrews? Hot tongs? Bullwhips? Too barbaric," the Assassin remarked, "I consider torture both a professional craft and an artistic craft. It's not enough to stick nails into someone's foot and force a confession out of them. It's the approach and location where it really matters," Metodey then walks elsewhere before coming back pushing a cart stacked with different colored bottles and a mask on it, "I have been informed by my superiors that you lot are... quite special to say the least."

"If by special, you mean 'loons', then you are correct," Karna snarked, noting how Topaz is keeping her mouth shut to not give away anything while Vidar was literally clueless on what is happening (likely due to being drugged: his mind takes a lot longer to get back in the game), "... I don't even see clamps," he noted when he only saw bottles and a mask on the cart, "what's going on?"

"Oh this?" Metodey then held up a bottle, "my new hobby. You see, I consider myself a... practical man," he stated, "sure, I am no more or less emotional than your everyday villager, and in essence, it sort of ran in the family. My father claimed that he was always around, yet for the half of my childhood, I cannot recall seeing him," the Assassin told his childhood story, "a man without any presence. Almost made me wonder how will I fare if the same happens to me. Then, it hit me," he remarked as he put the bottle down, "if I can't be seen by the others, then perhaps I can devise a new way of doing things. A new way to loosen lips of people of great interest. A method without leaving scars or drawing blood. A method requiring less work but more patience."

Byron then tries to figure out a way of how anyone can torture without drawing blood until he reached one conclusion, or rather, one mushroom that was bulging out of the Assassin's pouch. "That mushroom!"

"Oh? You are familiar of this?" Metodey then takes out the tubular fungi from his pocket, "I heard Duscurian warriors of old once used them as hallucinogens to completely remove all fear and pain from their bodies. I did a little digging and behold, I cross-brewed it into the opposite concoction of what it does in its raw state."

"... Oh hell no," Karna shuddered at the Assassin's implication, "chemical torture?"

The Assassin smirks. "Got plenty of pain stimulants and hallucinogens that I made myself," Metodey hissed with gleeful sadism, "don't worry. It's not gonna hurt one bit. It'll make you feel really, really great."

He then organizes the bottles into a certain order while rolling his cart towards the cage where the four of the Dustbin were kept in.

"So my dear friends," Metodey spoke as he put on a blank white mask similar to that of the Flame Emperor's, albeit without the fire and flame iconography painted over, "... let's give this a try."

He then twists a bottle of scented liquid open, unleashing a faint scent that began attacking their minds all at once. Their bodies began feeling hot on the inside, the sense of feverishness and torturous delirium weighing upon them as if the four of them were being drowned in a sea of boiling tar.

"Question number one," asked Metodey, his voice muffled by the filters built into his mask, preventing him from getting poisoned by his own drugs, "how did you lot end up finding this place to begin with?"

At the Sewers...

"... And I stand corrected," sighed Hubert upon his class finding a rat-eaten corpse of a Brigand below their lit [Torch], "apparently, some people are dumber than they look."

"Well, at least we know for sure that the Dustbin were here," remarked Byleth as she scratched an "X" on the wall next to the rotting corpse with her [Sword of the Creator], "come on. There better be more down here, so we'd know which hole they disappeared into."

"... Hopefully... the same where Flayn went in!" Bernadetta squealed in fright, "... sooner we grab her, the better!"

As the Black Eagles continue trudging through the muck below, Edelgard tries to keep her composure in the dark and the squeaks of the mice sprawling about. She did her utmost best to keep close to her group, trying not let her phobias get the better of her.

Another corpse spotted, covered with more rats. The sound of steel scraping against stone, the horrid raking sounds going off in her own head like an echo.

Again, and again, the darkness was beckoning for her to come in. Come in, to the black where she can finally rest.

"Edelgard?"

The light was horrid. Darkness, there was something oddly comforting about the unknown-

"EDIE!"

Dorothea was seen before Edelgard, the former looking at her with a serious expression.

"Edie, you look awful," she remarked, "you're sweating like a hog and your eyes look as if they're about to burst!" Dorothea then pulled the heiress closer, "what's wrong? Tell me."

Edelgard sighs deeply, calming down as the two caught up to the rest of the traversing. "... I hate rats," she spoke, "the way they just... crawl around and skitter in the dark..." she gulped, "... back when I was younger... I saw a whole bunch of them... piled up together... still squirming and moving in unison..."

"Ugh, ditto," Dorothea sighed, "I kinda saw one or two rat kings back when I was in the streets."

"... Rat kings?" Edelgard replied, still horrified despite her facade hiding something much darker.

"It's a phenomenon where rats pile together, tangled up by their tails or adhesive traps that the bartenders back at the empire uses," she explained, "trust me, no one likes seeing them out in the open. Or why any nobles would be caught dead being out in the open streets of Embarr."

"Ha ha... right," Edelgard chuckled mirthlessly, trying to use one part of her infinite nightmare to suppress the rest down to the deepest, darkest recesses of her psyche, "... damn mice. Bringing nothing but disease and famine to all."

Dorothea chuckles. "You and me both, Edie."

"Ahem," Hubert cleared his throat, catching the two's attention, "... the two of you, please move along," he stated, "hate to say it, but you're slowing us down."

"... Right," Edelgard sighed, "apologizes."

"Sorry Hubie," Dorothea bowed her head, "just a girls talk to get her head back in the game."

Hubert corrects himself. "... Right, apologizes," he bowed back, "... although I admit, I was... over the line back there."

After finishing their apologizes, the Black Eagles then find a large hole punched into the wall.

"... Wow," Linhardt snarked upon looking at the breached wall, "so much for subtlety."

"Who could done such thing?" Petra asked.

"Someone strong," Caspar excitedly remarked, "can't wait to fight whoever did this!"

"Silver lining," Ferdinand went in first, shaking off the muck and grime off of his boots and pants, "at least the trip ahead is gonna be a lot drier."

"Alright, get up," Byleth remarked, "men first."

No one questions her as Byleth first sends the boys up before the girls go next so that the former doesn't see what the latter were wearing today.

... Or lack thereof.

Huh, Sothis remarked as she looked up Petra, guess the carpet matches the drapes.

Don't tell her that, sighed Byleth as she went up last before looking back, "and jeez, it took the Dustbin a couple of days to find a way in?"

"Have to give those dullards some credit," Hubert remarked, "the Dustbin did most of our legwork for us. I guess their incompetence does hold some positive merits."

"Wait," Bernadetta remarked, realizing that her sense of time has gone completely off the whack, "... just how long has it been since we were down here?"

"The longer we stay, the more time passes," Byleth replied as she took lead, lighting another [Torch], "alright kiddos. Second verse same as the first."

"Don't get lost!" squeaked Bernadetta as she then anchored another rope to the Professor's waist.

Even though their next traversal was significantly more cleaner than the last, it still didn't change the fact that the suffocating darkness still shrouded over them, and that a trail of bodies of slain bandits waited for them.

"Ew," Linhardt gagged at the sight of the rotting rouge Priest's slit-open throat now nested with an infestation of rats and its pups, "... can't the Dustbin do... cleaner kills?"

"Linhardt, I thought months of fighting would've helped you get used to this," Byleth reprimanded, "I'm not going to be around to hold your hand forever every time a dead body shows up at your feet."

I could say the same, child, Sothis snarked, for which Byleth ignored.

"I know... I know," he sighed, "open wounds, decapitations and flayed flesh? Those I can now stomach. Rotting bodies contorted with frozen expressions of their last vestiges of the fear of their lives being stripped away?"

The young Priest then vomits at the thought of more being on the way, with Caspar comforting his unlikely friend.

"... Yeah," the boisterous Brawler remarked, "... it's a bit much, even for me."

"Grisly," Hubert commented, "let's move on for the sake of not losing our lunches."

The Black Eagles then move on without a word, traversing through the tunnels. As they kept traversing deeper and deeper into the darkness, more bodies were found, each one being more gruesomely slain than the last.

The Dustbin clearly lack skill in lieu of pure savagery, Sothis commented as they passed by a Brawler with his head split open into two halves, no wonder the Archbishop sends them to do her dirtiest works. They revel in it.

Hey, don't judge, Byleth replied, I did dirty deeds when I was younger.

Sympathy? From you? snarked the spirit, surely, the world's end is near.

Ha ha, Byleth dryly laughed mentally, ... I treat everyone as human, regardless of who they are. That's what dad taught me when I first got into the business.

Is that why you're so... indifferent to the Dustbin whereas everyone else cannot stand their existence? Sothis pointed out.

What can I say? she replied with a mental huff, anyone who can kill bandits alongside us is worthy of some tolerance. And besides, I ain't got enough energy in a day to waste my time tossing food at them when I could be eating them.

Eh, better than being a hysterical loon like that Karna person, the spirit rolled her eyes.

The class then comes upon an open chamber. Inside was a mess of dead bodies riddled with arrows planted on their backs and limbs, all of them gathered around an open chest with a rope tied at the bottom of the trunk lid. At the opposite end of the room, a cluster of slain bandits were laying against a giant bag with weapons scattered about the floor.

"... Sweet Seiros," Dorothea gasped as the group walked into the room led by Byleth, "I know the Dustbin leave behind a massacre wherever they go, but this?!"

"No, it wasn't them," Byleth pointed to the holes around the walls, "this whole room was rigged. Keyword being 'was'."

"What? Are you saying that the Dustbin all of the sudden disappeared into thin air and the bandits came in to collect, only to get too greedy and spring the deathtrap?" Linhardt sighed out, completely done with this whole trip, "... what? All I don't know is that who could've taken them."

Caspar picks up the [Crescent Sickle] off of the floor. "Yeah. That guy must've been really strong," he remarked before letting out a yawn, "... hey, do you think it's nighttime already? ... Feelin' a little... sleepy."

"Perhaps?" Petra remarked as she approached Caspar only for her to let out a yawn, "... I also do... feel... tired..."

"Come now!" Ferdinand scolded as he strode towards the two drowsy students, "there are better places to take a nap then some alleyway smelling funny," upon grabbing the two by their collars of their dress uniforms, the young noble lets out a yawn as well, "... on second thought, I suppose that the Dustbin can *yawn* ... wait for another day."

"Waitaminute," Byleth then runs towards one of the bandits to check their faces, only to realize that all of them had their noses and mouths covered, "... smell funny?" she parroted Ferdinand's words before realizing that where the three were was not an ideal place to take a nap, "YOU THREE! GET AWAY FROM THERE NOW!"

Byleth then covers her mouth and nose with her cape before dragging the slothful three students outside of the shaft where they were lounging at. Upon getting them out, she then slaps the three across their faces to wake them up.

"Ah!" exclaimed Ferdinand before he looked around in confusion, "... what just happened?" he then looked at the Professor, "... and why is your face covered?"

"Yeah, about that, we have your nose to think," Byleth answered before she looked towards the alleyway at the other side of the room, "... call me crazy, but I think this whole room got gassed."

"Gas?" Linhardt remarked, "as in, the ones seen spewing out at the Valley of Torment?"

"... Come to think of it, I did hear rumors of a certain criminal in the Empire," Hubert explained, "apparently, aside from committing murder and assassinations, he's recently taken interest in herbology and apothecary, branching out to more... subtle methods of murder that doesn't require drawing blood, such as contaminating the air itself to be poison to breathed into."

"... Wh-WHAT?!" Bernadetta screeched in horror, "IS NOWHERE IN THIS WORLD SAFE TO HIDE IN ANYMORE?!"

"Thankfully, from what you and Ferdinand described, the air at the tunnel ahead is no poison," Hubert remarked, "... I assume that it's the same kind of incense that helps one sleep usually sold by any traveling merchants with esoteric goods, albeit with its potency greatly exaggerated."

Dorothea lets out an annoyed sigh. "You nobles spend your gold on the weirdest things, don't you?" she snarked.

"I myself had to buy them on occasion," Edelgard pointed out, "... I like sleeping undisturbed. Helps me focus for the coming day."

"Alright, not judging," Dorothea did a 180 in her prior remark.

"... So what you're saying is," Caspar remarked as he looked at the tunnel up ahead, "we so much as go in there, we're gonna take a nap and leave our backs open?"

"Not if your mouths and noses aren't covered, you're not," spoke Byleth as she then ripped the face masks off of the bandits before handing them out to her students, "to those who object, take off your coats and use them to cover your faces with them."

Ferdinand and Dorothea take off their blazer jackets before wrapping them tightly around their lower faces while the others did the same with the handouts. Byleth then picks up the dropped sack of supplies and weapons before slinging them all over her shoulder before walking into the shaft ahead.

As they proceeded, their torchlight spots a trail of blood followed up by a streak of scratched masonry at the ground they walk.

"... Okay, that is even creepier than the corpses," Dorothea gulped, "Hubie, you sure that the criminal in question isn't the kind of person who kills for fun?"

"You're asking the wrong person," he bluntly replied, "ask the killer yourself."

She groans in frustration and dread as the Black Eagles continue traveling through the pitch black. They instinctively knew that Flayn's whereabouts were becoming closer and closer, but the further into the darkness they went in, the more foreboding and oppressive the darkness became.

The underground gradually became less of an obscure sewer system and more a devil's den.

At the Torture Session...

"Come on already," sighed Metodey as he crouched before his four prisoners, all of them moaning and dryly-screaming in delirium and confusion after hours of exposure to the numerous open bottles of hallucinogens and pain stimulants laid before the four's feet, "stop telling me what I already know!" he barked as he got up and rummaged through his bottles, "I already know that you're looking for the girl and the fact that you got in through the same way that the Death Knight punched through for me. What I don't get is that how did you come this far in the first place," the Assassin then corks open another bottle, releasing the intoxicating scent of the hallucinogen next to the other open bottles, "so, who tipped you off? Because as far as I'm concerned, no one gets this far in without someone from my side squealing."

"... I'm tellin' ya..." Karna groaned as his mind was completely fogged by the drugs, "... I just... got lost... and found it by... pure chance..."

"And my mother is the Queen of Faerghus," the Assassin sarcastically retorted, "the criminal underworld weeds out bumblers like you really quickly. Either you guys are new to this crap, or somehow assumed that your dumb luck would take you far," he stated, "here's the reality: luck will only take you so far, and the end of your little journey here will be soon if you don't tell me what I want to hear."

"... And what... do you want..." moaned Byron, next to him being the unconscious Vidar and the squirming yet-mute Topaz, "... to hear?"

"WHO TOLD YOU ABOUT THIS PLACE?!" roared Metodey, completely losing his composure and now demanding for answers, doing his utmost damnedest to not kill them on the spot lest the Plaguebringer fulfills his fantasies for and onto him.

"Like I said..." growled Karna, "... is it too much for you to believe that we found this place just because we found a fresh nail on the wall inside the hole that you guys came out from?"

"Wait," Metodey held himself back, "a nail?"

The only nails he could think of right now were the ones that he brought along were the same ones that he gave to the Death Knight weeks prior.

"... You've got to be kidding me," groaned the masked Assassin, "you mean to say that you managed to figure out where we were... just from a fresh nail?!"

"... Holes..." groaned Vidar, "... in walls."

"GAH! I KNEW THAT LEAVING THEM OPEN WAS A BAD IDEA!" screamed Metodey as he instinctively swept his arm across the dolly cart, shattering multiple bottles of his hand-brewed concoctions all across the floor, "... uh oh. Too much."

The delirium and the burning sensation intensified a thousandfold as the two sensory abuses both merged together into an unspeakable torment straight out of hell's greatest evils. The four's minds and bodies were feeling as if they were swimming in a sea of boiling tar while a eternal blizzard was howling across the skies above the netherworld that they found themselves in. Their eyes only saw darkness, choking the memories of what light is like, how the infinite void is destroying their memories and senses, whatever little bits that made each of them human.

Topaz, despite her stoic and unresponsive expression to this suffocating amount of drugs spreading throughout the air, something was happening to her. Something different.

Instead of losing what made her "human", the "other" began nourishing itself into maturation. Like an ancient mythical beast being roused from his slumber. Topaz knew that her mind wasn't her own anymore. There was something else within here. Something dark. Something primal. Something akin to a demon.

One of the chains snapped loose, catching Metodey's attention away from the mess he'd made. "... Did I hear something broken?"

Topaz wakes up, the bandages around her right arm pulsating with a dull, dark-violet energy. She then looks at her right arm, her wrist now dangling with a loose shake. "Tell me, mister jailer," she asked, "is this [Wootz Steel] or the regular kind?"

"... Uh..." he droned in confusion, "... regular?"

"Thank you," she replied as she then ripped the bandages off of her arm with her teeth to reveal her scaly, stone-like arm with claws at her fingertips and a "XIII" crudely craved into the back of her hand. In no time at all, Topaz uses her claws to cut through her other shackle before slashing through the cell bars altogether, completely freeing herself from her imprisonment.

In desperation, Metodey runs for his [Venin Sword], hastily drawing it to defend himself with against this thing that only looked human. "HOW?!" he screamed as he swung his poisoned sword towards the little girl-beast, "HOW AREN'T YOU AFFECTED BY THE DRUGS?!"

Topaz then catches the sword's blade with her mutated hand, the steel edge not sharp enough to break through her stony skin of her palm. "Better, compared to what Fodlan usually offers," she smirked before squeezing her hand shut hard enough to snap the [Venin Edge] like a twig, "but still coming up short to my diet."

Without his weapon, Metodey makes a run for it, only for Topaz to pounce onto his back and climb herself up to where his neck was at. He tries to shake her off, bit like a wolverine from up north, Topaz wouldn't simply let go, likely due to her still being affected by the pain stimulants causing her so much pain that she can't feel anything else anymore, and the fact that she herself was now curious of what her new arm can do.

Mainly, can it be used as a deadly weapon?

With that in mind, Topaz coils both her arms around Metodey's head, positioning her clawed hand to be right next to the Assassin's throat.

"PLEASE!" he begged, knowing that what's coming next was inevitable, "I'LL DO ANYTHING! JUST PLEASE LET ME GO!"

"Then do me a favor..." she whispered into the panicked Metodey's ear before digging her claws into the flesh of his neck, "... and die."

The man bucks and runs around like a beast of prey caught by the fangs of the predator, thrashing and screaming mindlessly in a primal desperation to survive, but as soon as the Hassan's claws tore through his jugular, his screams degraded into choking and bubbling sounds akin to a man drowning to his death.

All of this savagery, being seen by the Black Eagles firsthand, right down to the moment where Topaz's Demonic Beast arm tore out Metodey's throat out of his neck.

"... Okay," Byleth remarked as she caught the fainting Bernadetta, "... they're fine apparently."

"Oh, greetings," spoke Topaz as the Assassin fell face-first dead to the ground before she rolled off of the corpse's back, "... what?" she asked as everyone stared at her arm, "this is merely a weapon, no?"

"Topaz dear," Dorothea asked, "you know that humans aren't supposed to grow scales and claws, right?"

"Might've happened when she cut off Miklan's arm," pointed out Hubert, "perhaps the residual dark energy from the Relic might've spilled over into her, causing this... aberration."

"Huh," Topaz remarked as she looked at her arm, "I don't feel any different."

"The fact that you're not remotely freaked out is worrying," Linhardt pointed out.

"The human body is merely temporary," justified the Hassan as she cut the shackles of her fellow Dustbin, whose screams were slowly dying down from the drugs being faded from their systems, "I seek to become Death itself, so this is merely a first step."

Edelgard herself looked troubled by this proposition. She's treating her own life as something irrelevant. Someone who considers individual autonomy as meaningless to the greater canvas of creation. She knew that it was true, but she saw Topaz's desire to become "death" as nihilistic.

"Ow..." Karna groaned as he woke up to see his rival's class standing before him, "... oh brilliant, now I owe you one."

"Your head alright?" asked Byleth, eyeing at the bottles with scents coming out of them.

"Oh we're fine, we're fine," Byron slurred under the drug's influence, "aside from seeing three of each people all at once, I am grrreeaat."

"... Yeah, he's not fine," Karna rebuffed, "can someone get him some water?"

A goatskin pouch of drinking water was tossed to the bookworm's direction, hitting him on his face and knocking him out.

"Sorry," he apologized on his student's behalf, "he suffered a concussion before we got dragged here."

"By who?" asked Caspar before a horrid scraping sound was heard coming from behind the Dustbin.

"Me," coughed the voice from the other side of the chambers, revealing the Plaguebearer in all of his infernal glory, dragging his warpick across the mason floor beak-first. Behind the Fortress Knight spilled out a crowd of mask-wearing Brigands armed with pole-axes with a half-circle blade on one side and a pointed spur-spike on the other side and its tip.

"Wah, creepy," commented Dorathea at the Brigand's masks, all of them being the same kind of white masks that Metodey wore.

Vidar growls, ready to fight. "... Kill..." he snarled, "KILL!"

Karna then looks around before pilfering Metodey's mask and whatever intact bottles of pain stimulants to himself before dragging the other two back where the Black Eagles were. "Woman, give me my weapon," Karna ordered, "I get the feeling that they're not going to let us leave here alive."

"No kidding," Byleth snarked as she handed the [Crescent Sickle] to Karna before she drew her [Sword of the Creator], "alright, to arms."

Everyone bore their weapons or readied their spells. Bernadetta wakes back up, spots the masked men before going back to faint again, only for Byron to splash her with what's left in his water pouch to keep her awake.

"She said to arms," grumbled Byron as he readied his [Blizzard] spell in his hands, "get a grip."

Vidar bangs his [Iron Gauntlets] together. "... Destroy... enemy!" he snarled, "... pay back... for defeat!"

"More death to the worthy," Topaz spoke as she drew her [Bolo], "come! Whoever is within my reach, I shall send you all back to your maker!"

"What she said," smirked Karna as he enchanted his weapon's blade with [Swarm Z], "a good warmup after a days-long nap."

Amazing how resilient those four are, commented Sothis, a near-week of confinement and exposure to intoxication, then a fight wakes them up good and sober.

"... None run..." coughed the Plaguebearer as he slammed his weapon into the floor, breaking through the stone and leaving behind a small crater upon its impact, "... kill... last one... of them..!"

The Brigands then charged past the sluggish Fortress Knight as the Dustbin and the Black Eagles all made their stand. Byleth first moves in, swinging her [Sword of the Creator] in an extended arc, the segmented blade-whip causing all of them to back off a couple paces and allowing the rest to move in proper.

"Topaz! Coordinate with Vidar!" Karna ordered as he unleashed a cloud of magical bugs to the Brigands to slow them down, "Byron! Provide rearguard support with the hat girl and the emo-twat!"

"Hey!" Dorothea barked out as she slung her [Thunder] towards the Brigand mob, "I have a name you know!"

"AND I FOR ONE, DO NOT GIVE A DAMN!" Karna barked back as he headbutted a Brigand before kicking him in the crotch and firing his [Miasma Δ] point-blank, "COMPLAIN LATER!"

"... What is 'emo'?" Hubert asked Byron as he fired his own [Miasma Δ] towards the horde, "and for the record, being called the 'twat' is the least of my worries."

"Wrong person to ask," Byron groaned as he kept missing with his spells due to him seeing multiple, "... doubly so when I can't even tell who is where right now."

"Professor!" Bernadetta cried out as she shot an arrow with her [Steel Bow], "Byron's still woozy!"

"Here!" Karna then tosses the mask that Metodey wore towards her, "put that on Byron! That thing filters out the drugs in the air!"

The Black Eagles Archer then hastily puts the white mask onto Byron's face, his breathing becoming more consistent and his posture gradually improving upon his exposure being reduced.

"How do you feel?" asked Bernadetta.

"Like a champion," Byron grinned beneath his mask as the filters warped his voice into a deeper octave, "now let's go hit some heads."

He then switches over to his [Frost] spell, aiming towards the ground where the Brigands with the pole-axes where walking over, causing them to slip and fall, allowing them to be opened to be slain on the spot.

"Uncouth, but such is the fate of barbarians!" Ferdinand declared as he swung his [Steel Lance] to parry the oncoming Brigand's swing of his pole-axe, "come! Face Ferdinand von Aegir-"

His proclamation was then cut off by Vidar's roar before he sprang towards the Brigand before him and beating him senseless with his [Iron Gauntlets], one blow being strong enough to shatter the mask that the enemy was wearing before the face beneath got caved in with the feral student's punches.

"VIDAR! DESTROY!" he roared out loud, causing the other Brigands to close in on him, only for one of them to slump over dead before another fell, with the remaining enemy being fended off by the noble youth.

"DAMN BRATS!" cursed the Brigand as he pressed his pole-axe against Ferdinand's [Steel Lance], "WHY ARE YOU SO DAMN HARD TO KILL THESE DAYS?!"

Before his question could be answered, a spray of blood splashed onto Ferdinand's eyes, caused by Topaz's [Bolo] slitting open his throat from behind.

"Sorry, missed one," Topaz apologized from behind the corpse as it fell dead, "... the drugs... I think I had too many."

"Well, just..." Ferdinand then takes out a handkerchief to wipe the blood off of his face, "... just try not to die, you hear?"

"Noted," she replied before talking the mask off of the Brigand then taking off elsewhere.

At the other side, Karna and Byleth were fending off the Brigands surrounding them. It was already twice that Byleth herself was gravely wounded by their weapons before Sothis turned the clock back to where they weren't injured, starting the loop all over again.

You're so careless! scolded Sothis, do you enjoy dying?!

I think those axes might be the same as Karna's [Crescent Sickle], Byleth commented as she lashed out her [Sword of the Creator] towards the Brigand, no seriously, the resemblance is uncanny.

Focus on the fight, not the weapons! the spirit cried out as another Brigand jumped from behind to strike her host down again, only for Karna to perform an overhead swing with his [Crescent Sickle] striking the masked bandit's head before causing it to decay rapidly from the effects of [Swarm Z] eating him from the inside out.

"Consider my debt repaid!" Karna yelled as he then raked his weapon across the ground before unleashing a wave of Dark Magic upon the horde of masked Brigands as soon as the swing reached its peak, "anyway, I think the numbers are thinning."

"Yeah, but that guy up ahead ain't even flinching," Byleth pointed towards the slowly-advancing Plaguebearer, who despite being bombarded by a total of three spellcasters and one Archer, wasn't even fazed, let alone take a step back, "... I think the gas coming out of his pipes are starting to get thicker!"

"Pull back!" Karna ordered, "everyone pull back!"

Everyone then retreats towards the end of the room, the Plaguebearer continuing to advance towards them slowly.

"So," Byron spoke through his mask, "... what do we do? Run or fight?"

"We run, we cut our losses and deal with him later," Hubert pointed, "we fight, we'll be able to take him out before he becomes a threat, or we'll all die."

"Running seems like the more sensible option," Dorothea nodded, "... but I get the feeling that if we spread another rumor on top of the Death Knight, then the whole academy is more than likely going to be blown to kingdom come just to take out two people."

"Okay, but how do we take him on without falling asleep?" asked Linhardt, "because I am not taking a nap near him of all people!"

"This," Karna revealed a white mask that the Brigands wore, "these things block out the gas. Sadly, I only managed to get one during the chaos. Rest were broken upon impact."

"One for me too," Topaz pointed out, "that only leave Vidar without one."

"Which leaves only the alternative," Karna sighed as he took out a bottle of Metodey's pain stimulants, "Byron, you're allowed to hate me later for this. I'm gonna overdose your friend and hopefully, the sleeping gas will balance it our to keep him awake."

Byron tried to protest, only for Vidar to make the choice for him and proceeds to ingest the whole bottle of the liquid drugs much to the shock of everyone present.

"... Alright," Bernadetta gulped before she tiptoed out of the chambers, "good luck!"

"Wait for us at the door," Karna remarked as he put on his mask, "we'll be done in a bit."

"Good luck," Byleth remarked as she led her class out, "drinks are on me if you live."

As soon as the Dustbin were left to contend with the Plaguebearer by themselves, Vidar, completely doped up and his entire body screaming in pain, proceeds to charge towards the ominous Fortress Knight with the other three following after.

Vidar wastes no time mounting upon the Fortress Knight and began raining blows onto him with his [Iron Gauntlets], the sleeping gas contradicting with the flared pain wracking his whole body, reaching a state of homeostasis that nulled both and just left Vidar with his default rage.

Karna fired is [Swarm Z] to cloud the Fortress Knight's vision to further slow down his steady advance, keeping the gas-spewing suit of armor at arm's length so that he doesn't get creamed either by his warpick or his spiked bulwark rigged to an arm that was supported by a smaller arm.

Topaz snuck around the rear of the Fortress Knight to aim for the gaps in his armor, trying to jam her [Bolo] and [Rapier] into him, only for the Plaguebringer to completely ignore her and keep trucking along without slowing down even for just a bit.

Byron kept shooting [Blizzard] at the Plaguebearer's armor joints in an attempt to slow him down even more, trying to discern whether if he's either physically resistant or magically resistant, given the Plaguebringer's armor being an anomaly even for him, both exciting and frightening him.

In short, the whole fight boiled down to a stalemate. The Plaguebringer unable to react fast enough to their attacks nor the attacks from the Dustbin are doing anything to him.

"Sweet Seiros, this guy just won't die!" Karna cursed as he kept firing his [Miasma ∆] towards the Plaguebearer, his spells bouncing off of his armor.

The ground quakes upon the Plaguebearer slamming his [Axe of Abaddon] into the ground. "... Die... you're... annoying..."

"Right back at you, you walking infestation of rot and decay!" Byron kept shooting his [Frost] and [Blizzard] at the Fortress Knight, "dammit! My spells aren't strong enough!"

"It's more like he can't feel pain at all!" commented Topaz as her blade weren't soaked with blood, "is this what you people call a 'walking corpse'?! Because he's not even bleeding!"

Vidar himself was now headbutting against the Plaguebearer's mask, only for him to headbutt back off of him before pinning his foot onto the feral boy's chest, causing him to scream in agony of his bones being crushed under the weight of armor rigged with a giant tank.

"... Kill you..." heaved the Plaguebearer as he raised his warpick above his head, "... first."

"NO!" Karna then fires his [Dark Spikes T] towards the Plaguebearer, the explosion knocking the weapon off of the Fortress Knight's hands.

"... Alright..." hissed the Plaguebearer as he pressed his foot down harder, "... slow... then..."

Vidar began screaming out blood as he was beginning to be crushed under the weight of the Fortress Knight's foot. Byron tries to fire his spells at him to release his friend, only to come up short in punching power.

Dammit, think! Byron hissed at himself, I just had to specialize in ice magic just to run into an immovable hunk of iron!

He realized that he can't just rely on using the laws of friction alone to win his fights. Byron now confirms that he needs to use a spell that requires force and mass, something akin to Professor Karna's [Miasma ∆] or any derivatives of the [Fire] spell.

... Waitaminute, thought Byron as his head ticked together an idea of how ice works, ice freezes into solids!

He then picks up the half-filled goatskin pouch of water before running his ice magic through it, concentrating it into a singular stream of negative energy aimed towards the Plaguebringer. A singular ray of energy, with enough push and power behind its execution.

"Eat this!" Byron cried out as his two fingers dabbed with water pointed towards the Fortress Knight, "[Freeze]!"

A beam of ice magic hits directly onto the chestplate, with enough force to allow the Plaguebringer to take a step back off of Vidar, allowing him to squirm out of the Plaguebearer's reach, pick up one of the pole-axes from the dead Brigands and swings it across the Fortress Knight's face, knocking him back further and forcing him on his back.

They didn't celebrate, for they were now more focused on what was behind the goggled mask that was now lying on the floor as the Plaguebearer got back up.

"Oh son of a..." Karna shook his head as the rest of the Dustbin returned around him, "... I guess it's true that some turds are too big to bury in the outhouse, huh Miklan?!"

The Plaguebearer sitting up revealed a familiar-looking redheaded male with a large scar running down from the upper half of his masked face.

"MIKLAN?!" Byron cried out, "BEING BUIRED UNDER A WHOLE TOWER'S WORTH OF BRICKS WASN'T ENOUGH TO KILL HIM?!"

Topaz clicked her tongue. "You denied death's call..." she snarled, "HERETIC! WHAT MANNER OF WITCHCRAFT BROUGHT YOU BACK?!"

The now-revealed Miklan coughed out a distorted laughter as he supported himself back up with his spiked tower shield. "... Miklan is dead... I am a new... breed..."

At That Fateful Night...

But when he opens his eyes, he only saw his scarred face reflected off of the scythe's flat.

"From now on, you are no longer 'Miklan'," a helmet similar to the Death Knight's own with a single bladed horn rather than a pair of devil's horns rolled towards his knees, "your life now belongs to the Flame Emperor."

The man formerly known as "Miklan" then begins cackling like a madman, unable to believe at his luck. "KEHAHAHAHAHA! GUESS WHAT THE PEOPLE SAY ARE TRUE!" he manically remarked, "LIVE LONG ENOUGH AND LIFE WILL EVENTUALLY TURN ITSELF AROUND!"

He snatches the helmet from the ground and puts it over his head, no longer his own resentment of his own past binding him.

"... Forget the Gautier clan, forget the [Lance of Ruin] and forget Sylvain Jose Gautier!" he spoke through the helmet's echo, warping his voice into that of a ghost's, the sickness of his soul being defined by a farcical legacy that he was supposedly rejected by no longer plaguing his very being, "the Plaugebearer walks with you!"

"Do you accept your fate?" asked the Death Knight, "and of the future where the Goddess is no more?"

"Until my body is ash in the pits!" the Plaguebearer answered, "the accursed Crests shall be wiped from the very pages of history! Along with those whom place it atop of a pedestal!"

"Good," the Death Knight then takes out a small sack of pink-purplish powder, "we may have lost, but the war still rages on."

The two then disappear into a faint flash of light, leaving behind a small dust of hue. Miklan, by all accounts, has now run out of adrenaline as the darkness of death gripped his very soul in its cold touch.

And the next time he'd woken up, the warm feeling was no more. Flesh was replaced with iron, blood replaced with fluids, and his desire replaced with a mindlessness akin to a slave.

He'd overhead the two masked Dark Mages, discussing calling him a "robot".

... "Robot" was an old Duscurian word that meant "slave".

Back to the Present...

"... Missed me?" taunted the Plaguebearer, Miklan's eyes squinting in morose amusement, "... and yeah... I'm actually dead..." he coughed though his breathing mask, "this armor... along with... other things... is what... keeping me... alive... and kicking... and everyone... sleeping... to their... boxes..."

Plaguebearer's Personal Skill: [Sandman]

If "Plaguebearer" is alone on the battlefield, gains +20 HP, +10 Def and Res, and spreads an area of effect which puts other units to "Sleep" and obscures the area in a "Fog of War". However, if this unit is inflicted with a Crest-activated Combat Art, inflict -20 Atk and Spd for 10 turns.

The tubes then exhale thicker gases throughout the room, causing everyone's sights to be fogged completely.

"... Nothing else matters..." the Plaguebearer coughed, "... can't feel... can't see... I am dead... you join me... very soon..."

"Stick together!" Karna ordered, "he'll pick us off one by one!"

All the Dustbin can perceive were the scraping sounds coming from the Plaguebearer's [Axe of Abaddon] dragged against the floor. Where it was coming from, none of them knew for certain.

"Well, one thing that works for us, he's a clanker that moves two paces per hour," smirked Byron.

"Circle up, back to back," ordered Karna as the Dustbin did what he told, "one of us has to spot him eventually."

The four stood away from each other in silence, anticipating the Plaguebearer's arrival.

"... Hey," spoke Topaz, "that Miklan-corpse stated that the armor is the only thing that keeping him alive, correct?"

"You suggest we break the armor?" replied Byron, "fat chance. Not my nor the Professor's strongest spells could even make a dent on that thing!"

"No, of course not," the Hassashin answered back, "we instead compromise his functions instead."

"... Oh right," chuckled Karna, "... there's a saying in Shangri-La: 'to kill the general, kill the horse'."

The Plaguebearer then raises his [Axe of Abaddon] over his head upon figuring out where the Dustbin were. "... D-DIE!"

To his surprise, the Dustbin instead come to him right at the moment when he was about to deal the finishing blow. But rather then simply attacking him personally, the Dustbin instead aimed for the tubes that were interconnected throughout his special armor.

Karna and Vidar swipe numerous tubes connected throughout his armor with their [Crescent Sickle] and the latter's dual-wielding of [Devil Axe] and the pilfered [Half-Moon Halberd], the open gaps spewing out jets of steam and gas alike.

Byron uses his [Hand Axes] to hack off the hoses connected to the tank bolted to the Plaguebearer's back, the gauge atop the cylinder slowly ticking towards the left and away from the red.

And finally, Topaz, with her [Shamshir] drawn, performs a new combat art to deal the finishing blow to the giant of iron who should've died on that month prior.

"Do not run from death any longer," declared the Hassashin, "delivering, [Windsweep]!"

To everyone's surprise, Topaz's right arm then glows with the Crest of Gautier, especially Miklan, who's unable to react due to both being buffered by the little Thief's blow, but also due to the sheer shock of some backwater foreign nobody to have his crest than him.

"... Damn... YOOOUUUU!" cursed Miklan as the last of his valves were severed from his tank, causing his internal mechanisms to become compromised, causing him to shut down like a machine gutted of its cogs.

The fog dissipates, the chambers around the Dustbin becoming visible to them once more as the gases became less focused in its dispersal.

"... Should we..." Byron heaved out, looking at the now-unresponsive Miklan, "... finish him off?"

"No," Karna shook his head, "... let's go home. I'm sick of this place. And I doubt we can kill a man who's already dead."

Vidar crumples into Karna's embrace, the drugs now completely out of his systems.

"May your maker chide you," Topaz did a faux-prayer to the fallen bandit leader-turned thrall, "... for you, Miklan, you were a pain in the butt."

The Dustbin then make their way out of the undergrounds. As soon as they left the chambers, the Death Knight walks up to the unresponsive Plaguebearer.

"Normally, I would indulge, but my orders are clear," he then picked the Plaguebringer up under his arm before taking out a small pouch, "we will meet again," the Death Knight declared, "put thy steel through the whetstone if you all wish to live past this month."

In the two's place, a small dust of pinkish-violet was left behind.

To Be Continued...

Support Conversations:

- Vidar and Topaz (B):

Vidar: ... What?

Topaz: The others. They've been staring at us.

*around the two, other students were looking at them as if a fight is about to happen*

Vidar: ... What is their... problem?

Topaz: Their eyes indicate fear. Why would they? Even if we were to fight, they're not to be harmed.

Male Black Eagles Student: No, you two are just terrifying beyond rational measures!

Female Blue Lions Student: Have you two looked in the mirror lately?! You two look like ghost stories come to life!

Male Golden Deer Student: Seriously, are all folk from your part of Almyra this short yet terrifying? Like... you look like a goblin the way you're so small let so... deadly...

Vidar: ... Vidar deadly. Vidar strong... strong to protect friends.

Topaz: Is Fodlan so closed off to treat those not from the popular sphere of influence akin to a circus? My point being, please, carry on with your days. You're not even a concern to us, let alone we should be a concern of you.

Vidar: Vidar... don't attack... weak... until... they attack first...

Male Golden Deer Student: ... Fine. Have it your way. But seriously. Who covers their faces unless they're planning to get away with murder?

Vidar: Can Vidar... show face... to prove?

Topaz: No need to listen to them-

Female Blue Lion Student: Go on! Unmask yourself!

*the female Blue Lion Student strips Vidar of his bandages, causing her to scream in terror before fainting*

Male Black Eagles Student: OH GODS, WHAT HAPPENED TO YOUR FACE?! WHERE IS YOUR FACE?!

Topaz: I tried to warn you all. But no. Apparently, Fodlanese are walking paradoxes.

Male Golden Deer Student: Pardon?!

Topaz: You claim to be open minded to know what the other is, yet you immediately reject those who do not fit in your expectations of what is classified as normal around here. You preach benevolence and acceptance, yet all I see is disgust and terror on your faces. You're all thinking that he's a monster for simply not having a face. Then tell me, fellow peer of meat and bone...

*Topaz unveils herself, revealing her tanned, childlike face that looked like that of a child's*

Topaz: How do you know if "Topaz" is my real name? Let alone, assume I have a name in the first place?

*the three students all run off elsewhere, leaving Vidar and Topaz alone*

Vidar: ... You... not have name?

Topaz: The Hassashin are not born with names, for we are merely instruments of Death to the unrighteous.

Vidar: ... When... all... over... can... I... give you... name? Like... Byron... did?

Topaz: Hmph. I'll consider it.

- Karna and Byron (B):

Karna: So Byron, I must ask.

Byron: Yes, Professor?

Karna: What was the motive behind your learning before coming here? Surely, one doesn't get bored of learning unless they started to like in the first place.

Byron: ... At first, I only began grade-skipping due to the fact that I was triple-booked in taking care of Vidar, bounty hunting and other odd jobs to keep ourselves fed, and earning my magical license from the Faerghus' Mage Academy just to go legit someday. Or at the very least, have a stable roof over our heads somewhere in Gideon.

Karna: What changed?

Byron: I realized that I couldn't triple-book forever, so I had to cut off one short. But rather than abandon my education completely, I decided to... expedite my education and graduate early so I can make more time for self-preservation later on. I passed, top of my classes, but upon finishing, it... then hit me. I suddenly now knew everything within the public sphere of Fodlan's knowledge. What I knew that the others didn't, I didn't have answers for. Suddenly, a new kind of torment came over me. I was now at the peak without realizing what I've done.

Karna: ... Perhaps it may be hysterical strength, but intellectual? I mean, the way you described it, you're one of the very few of the gifted that managed to utilize their full potential at such a short rate. It's not that you were learning from the ground up, but rather, you always had the potential to intake more knowledge than other students without realizing it.

Byron: ... So you're suggesting that I was doomed to dissatisfaction from the very start? This... hollowness was meant to be my destiny?

Karna: Only if you let it. With that in mind, I think we're both looking at this from the wrong angle.

Byron: What do you mean, Professor?

Karna: ... Instead of learning what you know, how about you make your own knowledge? I mean, who knows. you're the kind of person who made derivatives of the [Blizzard] spell into a fully-dedicated branch of ice magic just for the hell of it. Perhaps instead of being beholden to the current status quo, you can... usurp it perhaps?

Byron: ... Huh. Never thought of that. But what if I fail?

Karna: Do you really have anything to prove when others can't even comprehend you or your intellect? I mean, fire had to be discovered by someone. Human ingenuity isn't made in a day!

Byron: ... Perhaps. But... thanks for showing me what I have look forward to. Even if it's for self-satisfaction, maybe I can do what the other greats have done. I'm a minor Noa, by all means. But that has nothing to do with what I myself am capable of.

Karna: Be sure to write a book about it. Knowledge being exclusive to a certain few are doom to become myths that people will worship over without utilizing them fully.

Byron: Look forward to it.

Author's Notes: Back to the grind, 4h of July passed, got an HG Jogan, and the current season of Vanguard ZERO has been hell.

This chapter... well, only one more part left, which is going to cover the canon "Rumors of a Reaper" chapter, and the Plaguebearer being Miklan was something that I couldn't hold for long so, there you go.

And with Metodey dead, he will have to be replaced by someone else, which is one of the "Four Riders" I have proposed at the Plaguebearer's debut. Add to that with the Death Knight saving his ass and with a half of a month left in the calendar with Flayn still haven't being found, the Dustbin and everyone else are now back to square one. The fact that they were rescued on the 13th of the Horsebow moon might have to do with the Dustbin's horrid luck stacking the deck against them, making Flayn's rescue all the more precarious.

And as for Edelgard being extra-jumpy this chapter, I tried to portray her PTSD semi-accurately. To those in the know of Edelgard's background, no spoilers.

Also, yes, Topaz now has the [Crest of Gautier] thanks to her mutation at her right arm. The implications related to this will be addressed briefly in the next chapter.

For now, glad to be back to my usual schedule. More on me in a bit.

References:

- Rhea's question to the neurotic Seteth is a reference to Thor's line from God of War: Ragnarok to Kratos ("Are you a calm and reasonable person?"). She also quotes Shirou Emiya when rebuking Karna's point from Part 1 of this arc ("Just because you're right doesn't mean that you're right.").

- Karna's line towards Metodey regarding their place of confinement is pulled from Onslaught's line from Transformers: The Last Knight ("You need a bigger door!").

- The chemical torture scene from Metodey (with the Plaguebringer's help) is pulled from Hitman (2016), specifically, Ezra Berg's speciality.

- Edelgard's statement towards rats is pulled from RWBY Volume 4, specially when Professor Port brings up his musophobia towards Oobleck, Taiyang and Yang ("They bring nothing but disease and famine!").

- Topaz's method of killing Metodey is a partial reference to Rambo's Mortal Kombat 11 Ultimate Fatality, "Straight to Valhalla".

- The Plaguebringer's implied strategy (courtesy of Linhardt) of putting people to sleep before killing them on the spot is a reference to Dragon Quest's Knight Aberrant's strategy of [Snooze]+melee-spamming.