The Dustbin

Day 42: Pomp & Circumstance Part 2

7th of Ethereal Moon, Morning

"So, let me get this straight," Karna remarked as he and his class were shoveling the ankle-deep snow across the monastery grounds with the Church pages, "you guys are now in an age where you're supposed to be training to use swords for fighting... and your first training is shoveling snow like you did back when you were still just the additional help."

"Complainers don't accomplish anything," Cyril reprimanded, "being a Knight of Seiros means more than just learning how to swing a weapon!"

"It's de default option," Sorcha shot back as she leaned forth against her planted shovel. "Still though, me tits are freezing. Dis is colda' 'den when one time, me and me sis went skinny-"

Selene belts out an incoherent blabber of yells as she pressed her twin's mouth shut. "Not now!" she hissed, "and dun't remind me of dat!"

"Hey you!" Pit waved at the shivering ball of tightly-bound mound of cloth named Byron, "you don't work, you don't eat!"

"Then let me die," he droned, his voice now devoid of all life, "because I cannot feel my face."

Vidar then rolls the ball of clothes away from the snow and into the reception hall.

"So uh," Cyril remarked as he looked around only to see the now-three out of seven members of the Dustbin currently present, "... where are the rest of you guys?"

Below the Abyss...

"You guys picked the worst possible time to come down here," Yuri remarked towards Cyrus and Topaz, the former being bundled up in his own layers of winter clothing, shivering like mad despite the precautions taken. "So unless you either have firewood or anything that can be used to keep us warm, then please, fuck off-"

"I brought mead," said Cyrus as he raised a jar of the fermented beverage. "My people ferment horse milk into an alcoholic beverage to keep ourselves warm. This continent's alcohol ought to do the same, given that my professor got utterly wasted last month with a knife embedded into his thigh."

"... And what about you?" Yuri then looked at Topaz, who was still wearing the same clothes as she were since she arrived here. "Why aren't you freezing?"

"I literally cannot feel anything but pain," she answered with a slight smile. "And pain is the only thing that I need to keep myself alive. Also, I brought pinecones. They make good fire starters, according to the villagers."

The Ashen Wolves leader lets out a sigh before leading them in deeper into the underground hovel. "And pray tell, how are they faring as of now?"

"Can't say," shrugged Cyrus, "haven't heard from them. But given my people's standard procedure of raiding border villages and taking all of their women and children after slaughtering their men and the elderly, I assume the survivors are in the Church's protection while they rebuild, but given that it snowed up there, I assume that they've been moved elsewhere before they resume rebuilding."

"You sound proud of what you'd just described a typical bandit procedure," Yuri pointed out as the three walked further in. "... Not that I was better, although I was doing it to survive."

"So were we," Cyrus replied, "but that's what Shangri-La gets for stealing all of the fertile land by the coast during the time of our ancestors and my people were left scrounging for food in the wilderness for generations. Thank Father Sky and Mother Earth for making my people learn how to be efficient killers."

"And what's your deal?" said Yuri as he looked at Topaz and her unfurled Demonic Beast Arm.

"Simply following my primary directive," she vaguely answered as she flexed her clawed fingers. "I was taught to utilize any method for the sake of completing my main objective. What happens to me in the meantime is irrelevant as long as I confirm my mission's success."

"Including being captured and turning yourself into a part-monster?" Yuri deadpanned, "but then again, I wasn't any better."

The three then enter the Abyss's plaza, gathered around one of the burning barrels being Constance, Hapi, and Balthus, warming themselves around one of the many flames alight within the ice-cold Abyss.

"Oh, company?" Constance remarked as she rubbed her hands next to the fire. "Please tell me something that they bought something to do something about the damned chill."

"They brought booze," Yuri smirked, "does that count?"

"Eh, leave me out," said Balthus as he continued doing squats while sweat dripped from his bare chiseled chest. "A good way to keep warm is to keep moving!"

Hapi meanwhile was fast asleep while she was still standing, as evident by her snot bubble and snoring.

"I'll wake her up," said Topaz, "lest she never wakes again." She the picks up a pebble from the ground next to her before flicking it into her ear.

"... Ow," she murmured before rousing herself awake. "Oh hey, when did you guys decided to move down here?"

"Avoiding shoveling snow with the brats," grimaced Cyrus.

"Given that our Professor has taken a whole month off last time, the Church found it fitting to work us to the bone this time of year," Topaz explained, "shoveling snow, set up for the White Heron Cup, then the Millennium Festival, then the Winter Festival with its gift exchanges, and after that, the upcoming Parent-Teacher-Student Conference, or whatever is called-I stopped caring."

She then snatches a whole jug of mead from Cyrus before emptying the contents of the vessel into her jugular.

"... Don't worry," sighed Cyrus as he revealed several more jars in his possession along with a few spare cups, "... they're meant for Alois and Gilbert, but they haven't shown up for the past whole week. So... waste not, want not."

"Where have they gone, I wonder?" asked Constance. "Surely, the two Knights of Seiros are more then capable of handling a few vagrants."

"Last I heard, they were sent to Morfis to get their envoy out of there when Almyra made moves to ransack the place," answered Cyrus as he began pouring a drink for himself. "They're a week overdue, so either they got lost on their way back home, or are now trapped behind enemy lines."

"Oof, that's rough," Balthus remarked as he then transitioned to push ups. "Guess Almyra decided to pick on somewhere else other than Fodlan for once."

"Enough about that," Topaz remarked as she then looked towards Constance, "you there, Nervile girl."

"It's Nuvelle, and I am Constance!" she snapped, "address me as such, you..." she then stops for a moment before scratching her head. "... What am I to call you? Because I'm now for sure Topaz isn't even your real name!"

"What is your real name?" asked Yuri, now admittedly curious. "Don't worry, we ain't gonna laugh or squeal if it comes to it."

"I don't have a name," she answered. "All of my people are born nameless, for we are merely vessels for our god, Azrā'il. Only when we prove ourselves as worthy is when we will be instilled with the names of our god's messengers. The name Topaz was given to me by a pompous prince who was merely lucky enough to find my people after sending millions of his own to die at our hands."

"... Make it sound like having a name is a bad thing," Hapi remarked with a hint of bitterness in her voice before switching back to neutral. "Aside from the million deaths. Wouldn't wanna be those guys."

"My 'name' may have been given to me by him, but I do not belong to that fop as if I were his pet," she snarled as she snatched another jar of alcohol from Cyrus, "nor are my people." She then drowns her throat with the whole jug.

An awkward silence set itself upon the whole burning barrel before Yuri cleared his throat to kill the quiet.

"So, that little tidbit aside..." he then turned back towards Topaz, who now shattered the empty jug against her forehead, sustaining no injuries of her own, "what were you meant to ask before you got... distracted?"

"Ah yes, that," she clears her own throat before getting back to her initial conversation. "Miss Nuvelle, I must ask, our Byron is your distant cousin, yes?"

"Unfortunately so," she clicked her tongue.

"Then may I ask the following," Topaz inquired, "do you also suffer from conditional mood swings?"

"Oh yes," Yuri nodded.

"It's 50% funny to watch and 50% cringey," Hapi agreed.

"Kind of a shame, though," Balthus grunted as he continued doing push-ups, steam evaporating from his topless chest, "missing out on the great outdoors! I would love to have a picnic outside for once! ... Assuming if I don't get spotted by my debtors... then that would totally suck."

"It's not that dire!" Constance protested, "... I'm just light-sensitive!" she then looked back at the two and figures out why Topaz asked this question. "... I also take that my dear cousin is the same?"

"Nope," Cyrus remarked before letting out a burp in another direction after finishing a whole jug on his own, "... he just cannot handle cold weather. Makes him extra-irritable."

"I hate to be him right now," Hapi deadpanned, "what? Did he roll himself into a ball of coats or something?"

Neither Topaz or Cyrus speak a word, the two letting their mutual silence answer the question by itself.

"... You're serious," Yuri smirked in disbelief, "don't tell me, he moves by rolling around?!"

"That's no good!" Balthus remarked as Yuri began laughing himself sick at the sight of a person literally being able to roll around like an actual ball. "How is he supposed to keep himself warm if he can't move his muscles? He'll freeze if he stands still!"

"Well woe him!" Constance then took a jug of booze herself before downing all of its contents with one impressive chug. "At least he can enjoy the sun without me!"

With those floodgates open, everyone around the fire began drinking the daytime away. Topaz meanwhile, then threw the pinecones inside the fire to help it burn for longer periods of time.

At the Reception Hall...

Inside the carpeted floors of Garreg Mach's reception hall, Byron's ball of coats was being peeled off layer by layer like an onion by Vidar. Everyone within the vicinity ignored them out of fear of association with those two.

"Never again I shall end up upside down on my head," Byron remarked as he began putting on less layers of stolen winter clothing on his person.

Vidar let out a low chuckle. "... It was... fun to roll... you like... a ball."

"Excuse me for having feelings," he deadpanned as he swept the snow off of his face while walking down the halls with Vidar. On their way wherever their instincts took them, the two overheard a pair of Soldiers discussing something amongst themselves.

"Hey, you heard?" said one guard, "apparently, Sir Gilbert and Sir Alois haven't returned from Morfis."

"For real?" said the other guard. "So what's the holdup?"

"Get this," he replied, "apparently, Almyra already took over Morfis just last week. They were extra-vicious during that specific invasion, with rumors that they're planning to invade Fodlan next."

"Come on," said the other guard, "no one's been able to cross the Fodlan's Throat for centuries! I should know, because I shook Lord Holst's hand once while was touring around the Locket! And that man's hands don't lie! He'll save us by himself!"

"Yeah, but here's the thing," said the one guard, "Almyra finished developing some sort of super weapon. Apparently, it's a cannon so large and massive that they have to use slave labor to run that thing. But once it fires, POW! An entire castle along with the surrounding settlement were blown off the map."

"And you're thinking that they'll fire that thing across Fodlan?" said the other guard, "if it even exists?"

"Whatever the case, I think Almyra's done playing around," the one reaffirmed his caution. "And the worst possible timing too. I was planning to ask out one of the woman in cloth on a date with me this Winter Festival..."

Byron and Vidar listened in on the conversation intently. "... A cannon so large that its shots destroy entire castles?" he mused. "Now that, I must see for myself."

Vidar then grabs Byron's shoulder and points towards Edelgard walking with Hubert's vigil. An oddity for the former, given that now she was walking with a cane and a slight limp towards her right leg.

"Hm," shrugged Byron, "that's new. Wonder what happened?"

Vidar then approached the two, with Hubert standing guard. "... Hello."

"Hello to you too," the heiress replied while maintaining a neutral expression.

Vidar then pointed his finger towards her cane, a simple construct of polished wood lacquered black with a brass handle and tip. "... What happened?"

A Week Prior...

Muffled screaming was heard from one end of the dimly-lit hallway, coming from Edelgard, the Flame Emperor, who was currently having two bullets removed from her lower leg while biting down a roll of cloth underneath her helmet as she laid on the operating table flat on her belly.

"Oh quit being such a baby," said the white-colored Dark Mage operating on her, his surgical forceps digging through her sinews and prying their way into where her bone was located, "remember ten years ago? This should be nothing."

All the Flame Emperor could do was muffle out incoherent curses underneath her gag. After having her second lead ball removed from her punctured flesh and fractured bone, the other white-colored Dark Mages casted [Heal] on her wounds to stitch them back shut.

"There you go!" said the Dark Mage as he removed the gag underneath his patron's helmet, "a couple weeks of rehab and you should be able to walk like a normal person again!"

"Spare me your pleasantries," said the Flame Emperor as he rolled off of the table, "what about the others?"

The Dark Mage with the white scrubs looked towards the side. "Well..."

At the Death Knight's Diagnosis...

"Alright, so your testicle started here," said the white-colored Dark Mage as he pointed his pointer towards the groin area of a skeletal model made from an actual human skeleton, "then it went here," the pointer points towards the pelvis, "looped around here," the pointer directs towards the sacrum, "and ended up here." The pointer then points towards the skeleton's toe.

"What about the other one?" he asked, his helmet still on while looking at his caved-in codpiece by none other than Karna's kick.

"Oh, it's dead."

Back to Present...

"Horse riding injury, nothing more," Hubert answered on her behalf. "Now if you excuse us, milady needs her personal space."

As the two walked away, both Byron and Vidar looked at the two Adrestian creams of crop before they disappeared around the corner.

"... Stop me if you think I'm talking crazy," said Byron, "but I'm pretty sure that she's the Flame Emperor."

"... Should we..." droned Vidar, "... tell anyone?"

"For now, it's just between us," said Byron as he glanced towards the passing by Monk. "Too many eyes and ears around here for my liking."

The two then see the Monk approach Marianne, who in an odd case, was found by herself.

"There's no need to feign ignorance!" the man confronted the girl. "I know all about you!"

"Wh-" she stammered, being a normal reaction to anyone who was ambushed with an accusation, "what are you talking about?!"

The Monk then snatches Marianne by her wrist. "Just come here-"

"Vidar," Byron ordered, "pounce."

With a snap of his finger, the bandaged boy then tackles the Monk from behind, rolling him across the floor as he let the poor girl go during mid-collision before being pinned down with his right arm locked upwards in Vidar's iron grip.

"So," smirked Byron as he crouched down to the downed Monk, "bold of you to commit kidnapping in broad daylight of all times. What were you going to do? Sell her off to a whorehouse for a few gold coins?"

"IT'S NOT LIKE THAT!" he spat, grimacing as Vidar pinned him down harder, "I'M TAKING HER AWAY FOR HER OWN GOOD!"

Unconvinced, Byron then brings [Perun]'s ax-blade dangerously close towards both of the Monk's eyes. "Explain. In detail."

"She's a danger to us all the longer she continues to prowl around this academy!" cried out the Monk, leaving Marianne silenced at his words. "Do you know of the Wandering Beast stalking in the woods of the Edmund territory?! It is said that it attacks people every night and drags them off to feast. The true identity of the Wandering Beast…" he then edges his sight towards Marianne, with the latter looking more akin to a deer that was about to be devoured by its predator in the next second. "... Is that girl right there!"

"N-no!" she plead her innocence. "I would never-"

"I know you won't, Miss Edmund," said Byron, "you look like as if you punch like a baby bunny."

"NO!" screamed the Monk, "WHAT YOU BEAR WITNESS IS MERELY A FACADE! HER WORDS DON'T MATTER! I'LL SEE TO IT THAT YOUR DAYS ARE NUMBERED, YOU WITCH-"

"Vidar," Byron then commanded Vidar to put the man into a sleeper hold until he was gagged unconscious, for which then he was released from the semi-feral boy's clutches.

"... My apologizes for getting you two involved in that," Marianne sheepishly bowed her head towards the pair.

"It's cool, we dealt with worse," he shrugged off before he looked back down at the unconscious man. "So who's the nutcase? An ex-fiancee of yours?"

"No... i-it's nothing like that," she then began to explain, "In truth, that man has been following me ever since my father disappeared… He's a Crest Scholar."

"... Why... he follow... you?" asked Vidar as he dragged the body to a less suspicious place for a man to be found passed out, coincidently towards the same direction where the broom closet was located.

Marianne then rolled up her right sleeve to reveal a Crest looking akin to a bull's skull with downwards pointing horns. "The Crest that my father bore and was passed down to me…" she explained here circumstances. "It was… Maurice's Crest."

"The so-called 'Crest of the Beast'..." Byron rubbed his chin in curiosity as he compared it to his Minor Crest of [Noa] that he had on him. But before Marianne could speak, he raised his hand towards her face. "Spare me the details. I already read myself half to death of all of the whole Ten Elites and their malarky. And yes, I know that Maurice is the only one recorded to have gone, and excuse my language-complete apeshit. And now the nutjob that we just stopped from dragging you into your probable-early and possibly-shallow grave thought that correlation equaled causation?"

"... In truth, I saw the Beast myself," she answered, confirming the loon's accusations of having some basis. "If I could defeat it, then all of the rumors around me and of the Wandering Beast would be dispelled."

"Well, you sure as hell not taking on a legendary beast of mythical lore all by yourself, that's for sure," Byron reassured. "Bring your Golden Deer classmates to the gazebo. We need to talk about our little upcoming monster hunt."

At the Gazebo...

"Thank you for telling us ahead of time, Marianne," said Claude as the Golden Deer and the Dustbin gathered around the gazebo as their rendezvous point. "Don't know what I would do as a future leader of the Alliance if I found you dead half-digested in some monster's gut."

"Claude!" snapped Lorenz.

"He's right though," said Karna, "you came to the right kind of people to deal with jobs of this kind caliber."

Marianne fidgeted in her seat. "... You all really don't have to do this for me."

"We're your classmates, Marianne!" reassured Raphael, "it's what were here for!"

"We are no strangers to persecution," said Topaz. "And on realistic metrics, you'll likely die if you go in alone."

"Look, I'm personally not against you guys helping us..." Leonie stated with her words carrying an undertone of suspicion towards the Dustbin, "but I know you guys as the most unscrupulous people that I'm aware of, so there's gotta be something that you're getting out of this."

"Kinda need to sort out some shite," Sorcha answered. "Because if I dun't kill a bastard, Imma go insane."

"Yeh. It sucks being bossed around by little twats..." Selene muttered to herself.

"Come on..." Ignatz tried to diffuse the situation. "They don't mean any ill intent. I mean, I'm not accusing you guys of trying to start anything-"

"Oh no," Cyrus stated as he kept a firm grip around the shaft of his [Gradivus] while keeping his glare locked onto Hilda, "your concern is VERY valid."

"Nice to work with you again," Hilda smiled, her [Freikugal] Relic resting on her shoulder. "Watch your freaking back, horse-fucker."

"Ugh, how immature..." Lysithea rolled her eyes, "at least I'm over my supposed rivalry."

"I never considered you a rival, let alone a remote threat, you midget," Byron sneered before the two spellcasters were held back by Claude and Karna respectively, stopping them from trying anything lest they light up the surrounding garden like a decorated Winter Festival tree.

"You sure that this cooperation is a good idea?" asked Claude as the little spellcaster struggled in his clutches. "Because I think there might be some unresolved issues between some of us."

"I need the rage," answered Karna as he and the Golden Deer House leader let go of their spellcasters, the latter pair turning away from each other in a huff, "specifically directed towards the monsters we're hunting. And yes, I have the Archbishop's approval, since unlike Hyrm, there are no settlements nearby to get caught in the crossfire."

"Please stop making that sound like as if it were a virtue," sighed Lorenz.

"Look, I already got a spare covered wagon for you guys waiting at the front," said Karna, "we'll meet up there, and then set out to Edmund. Sounds good?"

"Should I call for Professor Manuela for this excursion?" asked Claude.

"Denied, she and I went drinking last night," rebuffed Karna, "and I prefer if my only drinking buddy be found alive by the end of this week."

"Speaking of alcohol..." Hilda turned her nose away from Cyrus, who had a slight blush on his face and an empty jug that smelled like mead left out in the open.

Everyone facepalms as they realized that Cyrus was out drinking in the middle of the day.

"... Cyrus, honest to the Goddess's heart, but are you inebriated?" Karna asked.

"I first drank kumis when I was six," he replied with a smirk. "And to be fair, Topaz drank more than me and she's not even remotely drunk."

"What's kumis?" asked Ignatz.

"Fermented horse milk," answered Karna. "It's basically beer and milk mixed together. It's an acquired taste."

"Can we please stop talking about alcohol and get a move on already?!" yelled Lysithea.

As everyone dispersed into separate directions to make their own preparations for the upcoming monster hunt, Karna peeked at the scales peeking out of her bandaged arm being slightly undone by the wind.

"You know, Cyrus may have a point," Karna muttered to himself as he grabbed his [Scythe of Sariel], "... I don't think she can even get drunk anymore."

At Edmund Territory's Coastal Forest...

Fog. There was nothing but fog.

Throughout the Leicester Alliance territory, no other region was more barren than the Edmund territory. Aside from a single hamlet ruled by the titular family, almost no one lived in this isolated territory due to the rumors of the Wandering Beast prowling about the surrounding woods, preventing both any new people or real estate coming in.

Even Varley, the most isolated and secluded region in all of Adrestian Empire, had more people living there, and it was run by an aloof paranoid schizophrenic who would bother leaving his people alone on a good day. The bad days there consisted of Fodlan's worst rated sermons that the region's people were forced to attend due to there being no other local churches nearby and the Marquis himself was also the Archdeacon of the Southern Church. So against their will, they were forced to listen to him preach on and on about his dark interpretations of Seiros's Scripture, with 20% of his sermons being about Karna and how he was supposedly the "avatar of ruin" that opposes the Goddess's order (much to the aforementioned person's amusement).

"Thankfully, Anna was generous enough to sell these [Torches] for a discount..." he mused to himself as he grabbed the bundle of sticks tipped with oil-soaked rags. "Guess someone's having a good day."

"Yeah..." Claude nervously nodded as he looked out towards the fog, "... a real good day."

"ALRIGHT EVERYONE! LISTEN UP!" Karna barked out, gathering everyone's attention, "as you already know, the Edmund territory is currently going through a seaborne fog. Charging in blindly will get us not only killed, but most likely our bodies will never be found in the aftermath! So here's the plan!"

He then began handing out torches to everyone.

"To combat the lack of peripheral and general vision, we'll use these to mark our collective paths!" instructed Karna, "and to ensure that none of get blindsided, we'll split up into three teams of five!"

"Hopefully, the composition won't be as compromising as our current alliance," Lysithea huffed.

"Team A will consist of Byron, Vidar, Ignatz, Raphael and Lorenz!" he ordered. "You five will take the western sector of the forest!"

"It's an all boys club," Byron grinned as he took out his [Perun] chain-axe. "Let's kill some monsters."

"Team B will be Sorcha, Selene, Topaz, Leonie and Lysithea!" barked Karna. "You five will take east!"

"And I thank you for putting me into this all-girls club," the white-haired girl inflicts a slight jab towards her archnemesis.

"Lastly! Team C will be me, Cyrus, Claude, Hilda and Marianne!" he said as he finished handing out the [Torches]. "We'll take the center!"

"Wait! Why am I stuck with him/her?!" both Hilda and Cyrus cried out in perfect unison.

"See? You're already getting along," Karna smiled. "Now try not to kill each other in the meantime, okay?"

The two grumble before all three groups dispersed into their assigned directions.

"Remember, if you can't see shit three feet around you, set a [Torch]!" Karna yelled through the fog, his words emphasized with a small wisp of the lit object planted onto the ground, signaling the others where his group are at. "Don't get separated from your group lest your bodies will never be found!"

"Welp, fog beats snow," Byron grumbled as he lit a [Torch] and set it down onto the ground.

"Not for me," Ignatz sighed, still keeping his hands taut around his [Steel Bow]. "My eyes are already bad enough. The fog and my eyes are not the best of friends."

"Of course, one of you would look like something that would jump out of the fog..." sighed Lorenz as he looked away from Vidar. "Raphael, please take front so we'd at least have someone ready to engage the monsters at the moment."

"No prob!" Raphael flexed his muscles, "my body is unbreakable-"

His words were then cut off as soon as he was swatted aside followed up by single red wisp glowing above their heads.

"I'm okay!" Raphael cried out from a distance as he came running back. "Guess we found one!"

"Oh thank the Goddess you're alright..." sighed Ignatz as he readied for combat.

"Glad for it to come to us," Lorenz sighed with a hint of sarcasm.

"Enemy... ahead!" growled Vidar as he banged his [Baigujing] together, "... destroy... AT ALL COSTS!"

Byron then lights another [Torch] before setting it alight and planting it next to his feet. "Good." He then swing his [Perun] towards the Demonic Beast as Group A began their attack.

Towards the eastern end, Sorcha, Selene, Topaz, Leonie, and Lysithea were in the thicket, groping around the trees while the fog continued to hang around their heads.

"Tch, fog's always been a pain in de arse," growled Sorcha as she kept her hand around the [Claymore] sheathed on her back. "Can't see shite, air's watery, and worst of all, I dunno wat I'm swingin' at."

"Then why do you have such a large sword in the first place?" Leonie asked. "Regular swords cut just fine, you know?"

"Doesn't feel right though," she replied, "de [Claymore]'s a symbol. A sword meant for badasses sweepin' entire armies with one swipe. Cutting down everythin' smaller den it. I've been training to use it since I was a wee lass. So wen I use smaller blade, feel like I was gunna break em."

"Ugh, you sound like Raphael," Lysithea groaned, "at least he's nice."

"I dun't bother," she replied, "I got nuthin' to do with dis feking land, so why am I chosen to die for it-"

Selene then stops the group in their tracks. "Demonic Beast dead ahead," she warned, her eyes cutting through the fog and spotting red wisps floating about in the distance. "I see two. Two clicks away."

"Set up an ambush," said Topaz as she begun climbing up the tree next to her like a monkey, "you two, get on the horse. You're bait."

"Wait, why isn't she bait-" Lysithea then stopped her words as soon as she saw Sorcha unfurl her [Claymore]'s blade as soon as she crouched down in the bushes and Selene already finished climbing on her tree, ready to rain some arrows down with her [Crossbow].

"Okay, you have a point," groaned Leonie as she picked up Lysithea by her wrist and put her on the saddles. "We're taking point, Lysithea. They're already committed to their own plan and I doubt we can climb trees the way we are now."

"Curse my noodle arms..." sighed the spellcaster as she and her friend rode deeper into the fog as Sorcha set down a lit [Torch] to signal their location, "maybe Raphael had a point of developing muscles."

With Group B readying for an ambush, Group C was at the very heart of the forest, where both the fog and the tensions were doubly thick.

"So... other Teach," Claude looked at Karna, who was currently fiddling with his own [Dark Magic] in his hands, "... what you're doing over there?"

"Making adjustments," said Karna. "I figured that this would be a great opportunity to... spread my wings."

Neither Hilda nor Cyrus made an eye contact towards each other, with Marianne caught in the middle.

"Hey horse-fucker," Hilda grimaced, "your horse is scaring her."

"Be her friend and tell her to stop being so scared," replied Cyrus, "Darius won't harm her. He's saving that energy for something else more important."

"You two..." Marianne winced, "... please... be nice."

Claude looked back at the pair. "... You sure this group was a right idea? I get the feeling that they're gonna end up maiming each other while we aren't looking."

"You're right," Karna shrugged as he then walked back, pushing Marianne to the front and taking her place in the middle of the two, "escort her, if you may."

"Okay..." Claude shrugged. "They'll be fine, I hope."

The three then are left to confront each other on their own in the fog.

"Alright, I know that you two have a history together," Karna pointed out, "so might as well nip it in the bud before trouble blossoms at the worst possible time."

"Well, can we first start that he of all people were among the group of raiders that tried to sack Goneril territory?!" Hilda pointed out, "it was my big brother's mercy is the reason why he still lives to this day! And he's been nothing but an ingrate about it!"

"Your brother denied me a warrior's death!" Cyrus barked back, "and now, he expects me to become your servant! Me, a Battuan, submit to a pampered house pet of a princess like you?! Unacceptable!"

"Oh please, then what's stopping me from killing you here and now?!" Hilda barked, uncharacteristically crabby for someone like her.

"Let's count the ways of how my death would end you," said Cyrus, "you'll be held in account for unprovoked act of murder, the Goneril House would have its reputations as benevolent caretakers of war orphans would be put into scrutiny, and of course, your big brother still thanks that I can still be his friend, so in his eyes, he will be forced to act under the pretense of severing of the budding brotherhood and be forced to deal with you!"

Hilda looked utterly flabbergasted when he'd heard Cyrus of all people establish legal reasons why Hilda cannot simply kill him where he stood.

"I've learned how to play your people's game, Hilda," said Cyrus with an expression of sadistic glee, "from the moment your brother took me in among the orphans, he drank the poisoned chalice, and simply killing me will be your family's death knell! Of course, my one regret is that I can't kill you now. But pain is only a single moment, and all I need to do is wait for the Sword of Damocles to fall onto you at your most vulnerable, making my revenge all the sweeter."

"Cyrus, since when did you start reading legal and cultural texts regarding Fodlan given how much you hate being here?" asked Karna.

"Since her older brother forced me to learn how to speak this continent's accursed language," said Cyrus. "But Hilda, I hate you more than I hate your brother not because you humiliated me as you future pet, but to assert that you are my master when you secretly compare lesser to your brother, is sickening!"

"Excuse me?!" Hilda gasped.

"I can count the number of times when I was in your house when you DIDN'T mention your 'big brother' in a SiNGLE HAND!" Cyrus roared in fury. "HILDA! ARE YOU YOUR BROTHER'S SHADOW, OR ARE YOU HILDA VALENTINE GONERIL, THE GIRL WHO HAUNTS MY DREAMS OF FREEDOM, AND MY LAST OBSTACLE TOWARDS MY OWN LIBERATION?!"

"And that's enough!" Karna cut the two off with the swing of his [Scythe of Sariel] between the two. "... It's become evidently clear that this little issue that you two share has proven to be more complicated than initially expected. So in the name of simplicity, let's make a deal. Whoever among you two strikes down the Wandering Beast first, the loser apologizes to the winner. And if no one wins, regardless of whether both of you miss or hit, then consider the whole affair a sign that both of you are in the wrong and that your conflict is irreconcilable. Is that clear?!"

Hilda sighs. "... Simple enough. At least I don't have to think too hard."

"For once, I agree," grimaced Cyrus.

"Good," nodded Karna, "now until this day is resolved, I expect both of you to be on your best behavior, if you wish to resolve this clusterfuck that you two founded yourselves in without any other hinderances!"

Karna then leads the other two back towards where Claude and Marianne were walking at.

"Heard every word," said Claude. "... Wow Hilda. Remind me to not to make you mad."

"Appreciated," she haughtily replied.

"And uh, Cyrus?" Claude spoke to the Battuan, "I know this sounds a little naive... but hopefully, maybe one day, Almyra and to an extent, Battu, can come to an understanding with Fodlan without having to raise any arms."

"... I'll hold you to it, Khalid," everyone then stops in their tracks upon hearing that, especially Claude, whose nerves turned ice-cold upon hearing that name uttered to his face. "... What? His face was all over the wanted posters all over Almyra's capital city! Kinda hard to miss! And what kind of name is 'Claude'?! It's like you weren't even trying-"

A low drone followed up by snapping sounds were heard coming from up ahead.

Karna then lights a [Torch] before planting it down. "We'll talk later," he ordered. "For now, we got company."

From the broken trees emerged a Demonic Beast. Unlike other Demonic Beasts, its visage was semi-organic compared to the default's semi-skeletal maw. It's eyes were closed shut or squinted, the red lights of its eyes being ever so faint between the lines between its eyelids. Its posture was more refined and posed compared to the naturally savage and feral hunch found in that of any quadruped animal. Aside from those minute details, this beast wasn't any different from the common Demonic Beast found wandering about. But then, the next thing that it did, took everyone present by surprise.

"You..." spoke the Demonic Beast.

"... I think it's talking," said Cyrus. "It's him alright."

"The Wandering Beast is an intelligent being," Karna nervously chuckled in disbelief.

The Wandering Beast then takes a sniff of the air around the five before closing itself towards Marianne specifically. "... Do you... bear our Crest?" it asked. "For what purpose have you all come here?"

"... Our... Crest?" Marianne then rolled up her sleeve to reveal the bovine-skull-looking Crest.

"One simply does not walk into the den of beasts I call home," said the monster. "If any of you assume that you will all will make it out alive, then are you prepared to make that gamble?"

"With our lives as wager, you reckon?" Claude pointed out. "Seemed pretty obvious from the get-go."

"And nothing new," boasted Karna as he pointed his scythe at the Wandering Beast. "So, this is the part where you go crazy and try to devour us all."

"You assume... correctly," said the Wandering Beast as it receded before it hunched back as it got ready to pounce. "My beastly blood is now roused... I can no longer control myself! I MUST NOW FEED ON HUMAN FLESH AND BLOOD!"

"Try and take a bite out of us," sneered the Professor, "see what happens."

Both the Wandering Beast and the group of five begin their hunt.

To Be Continued...

Author's Notes: Apologizes for the shorter chapter, but given that I am in a middle of family road trip across the entire Southwest United States (currently in Arizona as of writing this chapter), the time to write, rest and mobile games paired that up with crappy internet forced me to make some compromises.

So far, this arc is building up nicely with the Dusbin being the designated handymen of the Church of Seiros, and like all public services of today, they get little to no respect for the position. Doubly so when their technical superiors are a bunch of thirteen-year-olds who are in the beginning stages of training to become a Knight of Seiros.

In the background, both comedy and information are shared. Midday drinking with the Ashen Wolves down at the Abyss, the Flame Emperor and the Death Knight having their post-battle checkup by the TWISTD's doctors (who will rub in the fact that they experimented on the former), and hearing of two Knights of Seiros being trapped behind enemy lines because Almyra decided to FINALLY stop playing around by taking over Morfis in a month.

The main meat and bones of this chapter is the "Forgotten Hero" paralogue focusing on Marianne. With the twist being that Byron and Vidar were the ones to overhear the commotion rather than Byleth. With the Dustbin's involvement, expect shit to hit the fan hard.

Oh, and Cyrus and Hilda's shared background is slightly revealed. The main issue between them is "cultural values dissonance," with the former coming from a nomadic raider tribe while the latter grew up like a princess. At least Cyrus is smart enough to self-educate himself on Fodlan's legal terms and culture, enough to pull a "rules lawyer" on Hilda (whose "brilliant but lazy" nature is proven to be a detriment here), but had to blurt out Claude's real identity at the most awkward time imaginable. Cyrus is adaptable, but his real issue is that he has no tact nor is he humble about his strengths. In fact, his initial "nervous wreck' characterization was actually his initial smugness being broken. It was thanks to Karna allowing him to finally taste the blood and carnage and let him ride on Darius's back is why he did a 180: he's a flip-flopper when it comes to his own capabilities.

Anyhoo, the Wandering Beast is now on the prowl. See you all in the next part.

References:

- The Death Knight's diagnosis is ripped from Reno's diagnosis from Final Fantasy VII: Machinabridged, Episode 13.

- Cyrus's mentioning of the "Sword of Damocles" is the ur-example of the whole "implied death threat"-trope, named after the Greek story about the titular King, Damocles.

- The Wandering Beast/Maurice paraphrases "One simply does not walk into Mordor"-line from Boromir in The Lord of the Rings.