The pungent stench of blood hung heavy in the air, mixing with the acrid smoke rising from the burning city. The desperate cries of men echoed through the streets, a cacophony of fear and rage. It was a scene that could only be described as pure chaos, a living nightmare that resembled nothing less than the capital of hell itself. Amidst it all, the clash of metal against metal rang out, a constant symphony of death as both sides fought for their lives with unwavering ferocity. Was this a nightmare? Or a fragment of his unknown past, haunting him with glimpses of memories he couldn't quite grasp?
Leaving the chaos and destruction of the battlefield behind, Byleth marched forward with nothing but his sword in hand and a burning rage in his heart. The once peaceful streets were now filled with fleeing people, their cries and screams echoing through the air as they desperately tried to escape the flames that consumed their homes. Amidst the chaos, a disoriented woman ran towards her house, only to be halted by her husband's strong grip as she frantically called out for her missing son. A young girl knelt before her own destroyed home, tears streaming down her face as she screamed for her mother. But Byleth paid no heed to their cries, his mind consumed by a numb emptiness despite the tragic scene unfolding before him. He had a target in mind, and he would not be deterred by anything or anyone. As he continued on his path, his eyes fell upon a group of soldiers standing on the opposite side of the street, their gazes fixed on him with wary anticipation.
With a sudden, fluid motion, he sprang into the air and brandished his sword, which transformed into a long whip that sliced through the enemies like butter. The reinforcements were quick to respond, thrusting their lances at him with fierce determination. But he was too agile and skilled, effortlessly performing a backflip to dodge their attacks before closing in on them once again. Blood stained the ground around him, but strangely he felt no remorse or hesitation as his face remained stoic and unemotional. Just when he thought the battle was won, he sensed another presence behind him. As the enemy assassin lunged towards him, a dark mist shot out from behind him and knocked the assailant unconscious. As he turned to survey the aftermath of the fight, a group of people emerged from the shadows, their faces bearing both relief and admiration.
"Professor, are you alright?" A girl with purple hair asked, her voice full of concern.
"Just a few scratches but I should be alright. ********, what is the situation now?"
"Our troops managed to evacuate the citizens and have surrounded the palace. This is it, Professor. The end of the eternal war that will finally free humanity from these lies that have held us captive for centuries."
"Yes, once this is over, Fodlan will finally be united, and we can build a brighter future where these injustices no longer exist. To that end, I will lead us safely to victory,"
"Good! I want all of you to stay at your posts and leave the rest to me. That False Saint - she's surely waiting for me!" Suddenly, a deep-seated hatred began to rise within him as his eyes narrowed.
"Professor, please reconsider," a girl dressed in red pleaded. "We know how much you despise her, but it's too dangerous for you to confront her alone. Let us help you and together we can end this once and for all."
"That's right! We are your family, right? And family always sticks together no matter how dire the situation. We may not be as strong as you, but we promise to do everything we can to assist you."
"My decision is final, and I won't change my mind," the professor replied harshly, scaring them slightly. But his eyes held a pleading look as he continued, "Just leave the fighting to me and stay safe. Please, I beg of you!" The group fell silent, their expressions conflicted until a silver-haired girl nodded and led the others away. With a determined destination in mind, Byleth continued on his path until he reached a large square where a woman with green hair awaited him.
Despite the shadows obscuring her face, he could feel the tension emanating from her as she let out an inhuman growl at the sight of him. The grip on her sword tightened until her knuckles turned white, a clear indicator of her anger and hatred towards him. As she pointed the blade toward him, her voice was laced with venom and malice, dripping with the intensity of her emotions.
"So, you've come here. Child …. No, you are nothing but a traitor. The Slayer of my kin. The Successor of Nemesis!"
He remained calm and pointed his sword towards her. "And yet it was you who lied to humanity, manipulating them for your gain. Your reign of terror ends now."
"Reign of terror? It's humans like you who have never learned your place. You betrayed me time and time again, stealing away any hope I had left in this cruel world. And you- the ungrateful traitor. You betrayed not only me but also my mother, who gave her blessing to an ungrateful traitor that should have never existed,"
"So, this is your true nature, isn't it? All those teachings and talk of benevolence were just a facade for the monster that you truly are. And this…." His stoic demeanor cracked as anger surged through him, his hand clutching at his chest. "It wasn't the Goddess who gifted me this life. This heart. This life. They belong to my mother- whose heart you tore from her mercilessly."
"Nonsense. If that's what you believe, then there is nothing left to say between us. You have already tarnished her memory by wielding that sword proudly, causing harm to countless of her brethren against her will. And what would your father think if he saw you now, Byleth? He must be rolling in his grave knowing that his son stands with his enemies."
"Shut up! You lost that right to address my father a long time ago ever since your true nature was revealed to me at that wretched tomb. I am not the Enlightened One, nor am I a champion of the Goddess. I'm Byleth- son of ****** and ***** *****. The man who will free humanity from the clutches of a vile monster like you." He declared with unwavering determination, raising his sword in defiance as she began to cackle madly.
"Champion of humanity? Are you telling me that you have feelings too, Byleth?"
"Yes, my actions and decisions are mine alone, not dictated by some predetermined destiny. There is no such thing as fate or destiny, only the choices we make that shape our future."
"Stop acting as if you have your free will. There is no need to pretend that you are human either. Because…." Her voice echoed in a demonic chorus, her growl transforming into a deafening roar as her hatred laced every word and haunted him like a sinister melody. Suddenly, the tone shifted as if multiple voices were speaking at once.
"…. You are a puppet!"
"… You are a puppet!"
27th of the Red Wolf Moon, 1178
Byleth's eyes snapped open, his body jolting upright in bed as he gasped for air. Sweat dripped down his face, the remnants of his nightmare still clinging to him like a thick fog. He could feel the lines between reality and the haunting visions blurring together, making it hard to differentiate what was real and what was not. As he sat there trying to regain control of his breathing, he ran a trembling hand through his disheveled hair, hoping to shake off the remnants of the dream. But they clung to him like a suffocating specter.
Questions flooded his mind, each one more urgent than the last. Who were these people who stood by his side in battle? Why was the city engulfed in flames, its destruction looming over them all? And most importantly, who was the mysterious green-haired woman that filled him with disgust just at the mere mention of her presence? The weight of these unanswered questions weighed heavily on Byleth's chest as he tried to push back the fear and confusion that threatened to consume him once again. However, his moments of thought would soon be interrupted by the sounds of knocking on his door. Gathering all the strength, he walked to open the door, revealing Bylass who was looking at him blankly.
"Good morning. Did I interrupt something?" Byleth shook his head, trying to push away the weariness from earlier.
"No, I just woke up. Do you need something from me?"
"Jeralt mentioned that the initiation will be happening in an hour. I'm here to remind you," Bylass replied casually, her tone as flat as usual. He was taken back for a moment before giving her a nod as realization crossed his mind.
"Got it. Thanks for letting me know. I'll see you later then." Bylass returned the gesture and left hastily, but he could sense her stealing a glance back at him before disappearing down the hallway. Closing his door, Byleth began to make preparations for the upcoming test.
It was a decision that Byleth had not expected to make, yet here he was, walking with the band of the Blade Breaker. He still could not quite fathom how Bylass had convinced him to join just a few days prior, but now there was no turning back. He could still feel the shock and disbelief radiating from Jeralt and his fellow mercenaries when Bylass boldly suggested the idea on his behalf, accompanied by the image of Jeralt pinching his forehead in confusion. Despite his initial skepticism, the Blade Breaker had finally agreed to accept the offer, but not before putting Byleth through a rigorous initiation to test his combat skills once more.
Nothing crazy would happen, right?
"Are you ready?" Jeralt asked and went to his position. Surrounding him were the mercenaries and his daughter who were watching with interest.
"As ready as I'll ever be, sir Jeralt," Byleth replied, giving a respectful bow.
"Let me remind you of the rules one more time. This test is meant to assess your combat abilities without restraint, so do not hold back. And remember, only disarming your opponent is allowed. Are we clear?" With nods from both sides, they readied their swords and waited for the other to make the first move. Without a word, the two combatants began to circle each other, eyes locked in unwavering focus as they sought an opening to strike.
With a sudden burst of motion, Jeralt lunged forward with calculated grace and agility, his sword aimed directly at Byleth's defenses. In the blink of an eye, Byleth reacted with lightning-fast reflexes, his blade meeting Jeralt's in a loud clash that reverberated through the quiet and serene field. The attendees held their breaths as the two skilled combatants faced off, their swords locked in a mesmerizing dance of strength and determination.
But Byleth was not taken aback by Jeralt's attack. With expert precision and speed, they countered his strikes with a series of swift and precise movements, showcasing their exceptional skill with the blade. As the battle raged on, their swords sang out through the trees, a symphony of steel that captivated all who witnessed it.
The duel raged on, with Jeralt continuously testing Byleth's limits. His strikes were rapid and precise, challenging not only their speed and agility but also their strategic thinking. But Byleth was undaunted, responding to each challenge with unwavering determination, their movements fluid and controlled as they adapted to Jeralt's every move.
Despite his vast experience and expertise, Jeralt found himself facing a formidable opponent in Byleth. With equal measures of skill and strength, the clash of their weapons echoed through the forest as they fought like fierce warriors. As the battle raged on, the intensity only grew, and both combatants were completely immersed in this ultimate test of skill and willpower. Every moment was a gamble, every strike a calculated risk as they vied for victory in this epic showdown.
However, just when everyone thought the duel would end up in a stalemate; with a sudden burst of speed and agility, Byleth closed the distance between him and Jeralt in the blink of an eye. Before the Blade Breaker could react, the blue-haired mercenary executed a swift and unexpected maneuver, smashing his blade against Jeralt's with a force that sent shockwaves rippling through the air. The impact of the blow was deafening, and for a moment, time seemed to stand still as everyone watched in disbelief. All of the mercenaries could barely cover their mouths, looking at Jeralt and then toward Byleth with shock in their eyes. Even Bylass, who rarely showed any emotion, could not help but widen her eyes intensely, staring at her new friend who just defeated her father- the legendary Blade Breaker. Realizing the outcome of the duel, Byleth sheathed his blade and offered Jeralt a hand who was still shocked by the transition.
"It's done. Did I pass the test, Sir Jeralt?" Byleth asked casually as Jeralt looked at him in surprise and took his hand to stand up.
"Pass? You were the first one who not only pushed me to my limit but also defeated me, Byleth. With your skills, I'm surprised you haven't made a name for yourself yet. Have you been hiding away all these years?" Jeralt asked jokingly despite his shock, yet for some reason, Byleth had an uncertain look on his face and replied hesitantly.
"There may be some truth to that." The awkward silence fell upon them once again until Jeralt cleared his throat and changed the subject.
"Anyway, the test is complete, and I am proud to announce that you are now an official member of our mercenary group. I look forward to working with you, Byleth." The others clapped, including Bylass who couldn't take her eyes off Byleth.
"The honor is mine, Sir Jeralt. Do you need anything else from me?"
"Yes, there are a few questions I have for you. And as for the rest of you, enjoy your free time until our next job tomorrow." The mercenaries dispersed, leaving Jeralt and Byleth to continue their conversation at the nearby inn. Little did they know, Bylass was still standing there, watching Byleth until he disappeared from her sight.
Looks like her new friend was more interesting than she could imagine.
"Sorry to bother you, boy. But there are some matters that I'd rather discuss privately," Jeralt said as he closed the door behind them. Byleth nodded in understanding and took a seat on one of the chairs in front of Jeralt's desk.
"What would you like to know?" Byleth asked.
"Let's start with the basics. What is your full name?" Jeralt asked, tapping his chin and giving Byleth a scrutinizing look.
Just Byleth," he replied bluntly. Jeralt raised an eyebrow, waiting for him to continue. "I don't have a surname," Byleth added.
"Let's continue then. That armor of yours…." His fingers pointed at Byleth's unique armor and asked skeptically. "Where did you get it if I may ask?"
"I … don't know. I've been wearing this since I woke up. Other than that, I can't remember how I obtained it. Yet there is something still familiar about it."
"Can you elaborate?" Byleth fell silent until he replied hesitantly; his fingers traced around it.
"It feels familiar to me as if it's been a part of my identity for as long as I can remember. There's a sense of comfort and reassurance when I wear it as if it's a tangible link to my past – a gift from someone very important to me." Jeralt swore he could see the stoic man in front of him smiled for a few seconds before he returned to his usual look. Despite not being satisfied with the answer, he gave an understanding nod and replied politely.
"I see. Bylass also informed me about your circumstances. You have amnesia, right?"
"Yes, I can barely remember anything beyond my name. My home, my family...even myself."
"I know this may be hard for you given your circumstances, but I can't help but wonder ever since we met." Taking a deep breath, Jeralt mustered up the courage to ask.
"Do you have any familial connection you can remember?"
"Sir, I don't understand." Jeralt sighed as Byleth replied bluntly.
"What I meant was did you remember anything about your family? Your father? Or perhaps your mother?" Suddenly Jeralt emphasized the last one, surprising Byleth as he replied truthfully.
"No, sir. I've been trying to piece together any information about them but so far nothing has come up."
"Does the name Sitri mean anything to you?" Suddenly the atmosphere became tense as Jeralt asked firmly which Byleth was still deeply in thought. Just when he was still trying to make sense of the question, his head twitched in pain as vague memories flashed before his eyes.
"Don't worry, Mother! They are gone now- the traitors that robbed you from me and Father. But there is no need to be sad anymore for I'm here. Just like what you wanted, wasn't it?"
"Hey boy, are you alright?" Jeralt asked with concern, and Byleth still held his head.
"I'm fine. It will pass eventually. Is there anything else you need from me?"
"No, that's enough for now. Thanks for taking your time with this old man." As Byleth turned to leave, Jeralt stopped them with a hesitant question.
"If there is anything else you remember that could help us find out more about your past, please let me know." Byleth's expression turned guarded, and he hesitated. "I know it's hard to share personal details with someone you just met, but I can't help you if I don't know what we're looking for." After a moment of contemplation, Byleth sighed and shared some information with Jeralt.
"I don't remember where I was, but all I could see was a city in flames and a fierce battle between soldiers. And I was there, leading my battalion towards the main square." Jeralt nodded and tapped his chin thoughtfully.
"And are you sure this happened in Fodlan? I don't recall there being a major war recently."
"I know others have told me the same, but I heard the name clearly in one of my dreams. But even so…" His voice began to trail off despite his blank look as Jeralt gave a small hum and continued.
"Is there anything else? Someone that you find familiar from that chaos?" Byleth tapped his chin and replied slowly.
"There was a woman with green hair, standing on the other side of the square." Jeralt froze as he stared at Byleth with wide eyes. "I'm not sure what happened, but she seemed very angry with me as if we had a history together."
"And what did she look like?" Jeralt asked cautiously.
"She was wearing white armor, and her mannerisms and speech reminded me of a high priestess. And…" Byleth's head twitched before he shrugged and regained composure, only to see Jeralt staring intently at him.
"Does the name of Rhea ring any bell to you?"
"Rhea? Who is she?" Jeralt blinked in surprise, his voice softening.
"You've never heard of her before? Not even Garreg Mach?" Byleth shook his head.
"This is the first time I've heard these names. Is something wrong, sir?"
"Nothing, forgive me for my ramblings earlier. Anyway, I'll pass on this information to my contacts and see if we can find any leads about your past. Until then, enjoy your free time, Byleth."
"Then I will take my leave now. Have a good day, sir Jeralt."
Byleth bowed respectfully before exiting the room, leaving Jeralt alone with conflicting emotions. He gazed out the window at the blue-haired man walking away and let out a heavy sigh, muttering to himself with each thought more uncertain than the last.
"Rhea, what else have you been hiding from me?"
Boredom clung to Bylass like a heavy cloak, weighing her down with its dullness. She had no idea what to do now, after years of traveling and taking on mercenary contracts with her father. It was the only life she knew, constantly moving to new places and repeating the same cycle. As she aimlessly wandered around Remire, her gaze roamed across the room, taking in the other mercenaries in their moments of rest. They laughed and shared tales of past battles, their camaraderie evident in their relaxed postures and easy smiles. Some were deep in concentration over a game of cards, while others cheered and clinked tankards of ale together in celebration. A few were engaged in friendly sparring matches, their weapons flashing in the light. The scene was familiar to Bylass, one she had witnessed countless times before, but today it stirred something unfamiliar within her - a longing for more than this nomadic existence, perhaps?
A pang of curiosity gnawed as she observed them, a nagging yearning for something more than this transient lifestyle tugged at her heartstrings. For once, she longed for true companionship and connection beyond mere convenience - something that had been denied to her due to her circumstances. But now, surrounded by these happy mercenaries, she couldn't help but wonder if she was missing out on a vital aspect of life. With a sad sigh, she turned away and began walking aimlessly. Before she knew it, her feet had led her to the nearby riverbank. There, she saw a mysterious figure with bright blue hair, intensely focused on the glimmering surface of the water.
Curiosity stirred within Bylass as she approached, watching as Byleth deftly cast his line into the water with practiced precision. There was a gracefulness to his movements, a fluidity that spoke of years spent honing his skill. She couldn't help but admire the way he seemed completely at ease in his element as if the river itself were his ally. As she drew closer, Bylass noticed the subtle tension in Byleth's shoulders, the focused intensity of his expression as he waited for a bite. There was a determination in his eyes, a quiet resolve that hinted at a strength lying beneath his calm exterior.
But it was more than just his skill at fishing that intrigued Bylass. There was something about Byleth, something elusive yet undeniable, that drew her in. Perhaps it was the air of mystery that surrounded him, the very sense that he carried secrets hidden beneath his stoic facade. Or perhaps it was the way he seemed to see through her defenses, peering into the depths of her soul with an unwavering gaze.
"It's peaceful here, isn't it?" His sudden voice startled her as he spoke calmly. "The tranquility here. The calmness of the river. Almost like it's waiting for something."
Bylass nodded and joined Byleth by the riverbank. "There's a certain rhythm to it, isn't there? It's like life itself, always moving yet somehow the same."
"To live a life like that sounds sad and boring. But surely there must be some beauty worth cherishing in this world," Byleth remarked as he pulled his fishing rod up and placed the catch into the basket beside him.
"Perhaps, perhaps not. But does it even matter when all I know is fighting and combat?" Bylass replied with a monotone tone, turning to look at Byleth's stoic face. Their eyes met briefly before he let out a small hum. They fell into a comfortable silence until she asked in her usual monotone.
"Congratulations on passing the test. I didn't expect you to defeat Jeralt though." Byleth cast another line into the river and responded nonchalantly.
"Thank you. I'm glad it went well. Jeralt was a tough opponent but it was a good match. I hope to learn more from both him and you during my time here."
"You make it sound like it was no big deal. Did you know that Jeralt's reputation took quite a hit when you defeated him? I overheard some rumors spreading to other settlements already." Byleth turned to look at her with interest in his eyes.
"Ah, well, I suppose Jeralt's reputation could use a bit of polishing then. Perhaps next time I'll let him win then. Wouldn't want the Blade Breaker to lose his edge, would we?" Suddenly time seemed to stand still as she looked at him bewilderedly while her face betrayed no emotion, making Byleth scratch his head. Until he heard a small laugh, definitely from the stoic woman in front of him.
"Perhaps I should not have said that then." She waved her hand dismissively and reassured him.
"It's fine. Thanks for cheering me up by the way." Suddenly there was a change in her voice which was different from her usual tone before it returned to normal again. "What are you doing here by the way?"
"Just fishing. Since I have nothing to do until our next contract so I thought I could kill some time here. Moreover, it's relaxing." He explained serenely.
"It must be nice to have a hobby," she remarked, an awkward silence falling between them once again. Until Byleth stood up and offered her the fishing rod.
"Want to give it a try?" She stared at him with a blank expression as he continued with a stoic look as well. "Since we have a day for ourselves, why not learn something new? Perhaps you might even find yourself a hobby."
"If you say so, I will trust you then. So, how are we going to do this?" She nodded and stood up as well.
"First, we need some bait. Could you please get one of those from that pot?"
"Understood. What is the next step." Bylass asked as she observed him closely.
"Well, depending on the type of fish we want to catch, we need to use the right bait. Then we can start learning how to cast the rod. Can you hold this for a second?" He handed her the fishing rod, and she felt his gentle touch as he guided her hands into place.
"Just follow my lead, okay?" Despite the closeness, she calmly nodded and focused on his instructions. "Hold the rod at your waist with the reel below it," Byleth murmured, his breath tickling the back of Bylass's neck as he leaned in closer to offer his guidance. She couldn't help but notice the way his presence seemed to envelop her, his warmth seeping into her skin.
"Look at where you want to cast and move forward. Then lift your rod." As they cast their lines into the water, Bylass found herself caught up in the rhythm of their movements and the peacefulness of their shared task. "I think I'm getting better," she said with pride as she felt a tug on her line.
"You're learning fast." His voice hummed with amusement. "Now it's the time reel but before we begin, let's take a moment to connect with our surroundings. To truly fish, one must become one with nature, attuned to its every movement."
Closing her eyes, Bylass took a deep breath and let herself be still. She could feel the gentle breeze on her skin, the soothing lapping of the water against the shore, and the steady presence of the earth beneath her feet.
"Focus on the water, Bylass," Byleth continued his voice a mere whisper now, barely audible above the gentle hum of nature. "Feel its flow and listen for any signs of life."
As she opened her eyes, Bylass felt a sense of tranquility wash over her. It was as if a veil had been lifted, revealing the hidden world just below the surface. She watched as ripples danced across the lake, each one a clue to what lay beneath. And then she noticed her rod bending and pulling, signaling that something was on the line.
With a newfound determination, Bylass continued to reel in the line, her muscles burning with exertion as she drew closer and closer to her prize. And then, with one final tug, she felt the fish break through the surface of the water, its sleek form shimmering in the fading light of the setting sun.
"You did it!" Byleth remarked. "A Queen Loach no less. I guess you have a talent for fishing after all."
"Not without your guidance, Byleth. But I think I've got the hang of it now. Thank you for taking the time to show me." She bowed gratefully as the excitement was rising inside her despite her blank look. "Shall we split it for dinner?"
"It's all yours, my friend." Her heart was caught off guard by his words. "Besides, I already caught some earlier so it should be enough. I'll..." Before he could pack his basket and leave, Bylass suddenly grabbed his wrist and looked at him with determination, causing the blue-haired man to sigh in response.
"Is there nothing that can convince you?" he asked.
"I insist! You can cook your fish, but I want us to enjoy this together. After all, it was you who showed me a whole new world today."
"Can't be helped then. Let's start the fire, shall we?"
As Byleth disappeared into the forest to gather wood, Bylass couldn't help but feel overwhelmed by a flurry of conflicting emotions. His presence had stirred something within her that she couldn't quite name. The memory of his hand on hers during their fishing practice lingered in her mind and sent tingles down her arms. It was a simple gesture, yet it had left a lasting imprint on her body and soul - a feeling she had never encountered before.
What was happening to her now?
30th of the Red Wolf Moon, 1178
"Jeralt, what's our mission this time?" Bylass asked, her father still reading the paper.
"We've been hired by a local lord to defend a village from bandits. It's on the outskirts of Rusalka,"
"But why didn't the lord ask for help from the Empire? I thought they had enough forces to handle something like this and protect innocent lives," Byleth chimed in, sounding genuinely curious.
"That's where you're wrong, boy. There have been some...complications in Enbarr recently. Plus, our job is simply to fulfill our contract, not question the motives of nobles. Understood?" He nodded and they continued marching.
As they marched towards their destination, a group of villagers awaited them. After exchanging information and making preparations, Jeralt gathered his men to discuss their defensive strategy.
"According to our sources, the bandits have a significant manpower advantage. This won't be an easy fight," Jeralt announced, causing tension among his mercenaries.
"How many are we up against, sir?" Bylass raised her hand.
"Forty," Jeralt replied bluntly, causing concern among his men.
"So that's four to one." Byleth mused, tapping his chin. "And what's your plan?"
"The enemy will most likely come from the front, assuming they can easily overpower us. Therefore, we will wait at the front gate with most of our personnel here, while the rest stay to defend the villagers who already stayed inside their houses and bar their doors"
"But will it be enough to fend off a surprise attack from them?" Byleth questioned nonchalantly, but there was something different in his eyes that Jeralt couldn't quite place.
"I understand your concern, but we can't risk spreading ourselves too thin. And besides, the bandits have never attacked from behind before - they see no value in splitting their forces," Jeralt reasoned.
"I'll stay behind, just in case. You can continue without me," Byleth suggested, surprising Jeralt and causing murmurs among the other mercenaries.
"Are you sure about this, Byleth?" Jeralt asked skeptically as Byleth nodded confidently. "Just so you know, this village is protected by walls. The bandits won't bother attacking from behind, it's not worth their time."
"But there's always a chance. And I won't risk innocent lives for our negligence. Don't worry, I'll be fine, sir Jeralt," Byleth reassured him.
After some consideration, Jeralt sighed and signaled for his men to move out. As Byleth headed towards the mayor's house, Bylass gave him a concerned look before being interrupted by Jeralt.
"Don't worry about him, kid. He can handle himself. Let's focus on our task now, are you ready?" Jeralt said reassuringly.
"Yes, Jeralt. I am prepared." She nodded and unsheathed her weapon, mentally preparing for the upcoming battle. Night quickly fell as they noticed movement from the other side - a large group of bandits marching towards them with excitement and eagerness in their eyes. As they drew closer, their leader, a burly bandit captain on horseback, spoke up.
"Looks like those villagers managed to find us some more toys. Who are you? Some new mercenaries looking for a fight?"
"You only need to know that we're here to protect these villagers. Leave and never return if you still value your lives," Jeralt growled, his tone carrying a clear threat.
"Hah! Quite the bravado you have there. It is you who will regret crossing our paths tonight." The bandit captain signaled to his men, and they charged toward Jeralt and Bylass, who stood their ground and prepared for combat as both sides clashed with ferocity.
The first wave of bandits rumbled into the town square, their swords glinting in the fading light. Bylass and Jeralt sprang into action, their weapons flashing as they met the onslaught head-on. With precise movements, they parried and countered every strike, causing their attackers to stumble back with each blow. Jeralt stood tall on his horse, guiding it with expert maneuvering as he leaped off its back and plunged his sword into a trio of ruffians. Meanwhile, Bylass gracefully avoided a swing from one of her foes, deftly flipping over the bandit's shoulder before hurling her dagger at another approaching attacker.
As the clash of metal echoed through the battlefield, Bylass scanned her surroundings. Despite the intel, she couldn't shake the feeling that something was off. She noticed fewer enemies than expected and their leader was nowhere to be seen. But driven by a fierce determination, she fought on, skillfully wielding her sword to take down each foe in her path. Suddenly, the bandits' cries turned from aggressive to panicked and they began to retreat, leaving Bylass and her comrades stunned and victorious.
"Are they fleeing?" One of the mercenaries asked, his face twisted with confusion.
"It appears so, but something feels off," Bylass responded, her eyes still fixed on the bandits' retreat.
"I agree. Their numbers don't match up with our intel. And it doesn't seem like they have any intention of fighting. Unless..." A sudden realization dawned on him as an explosion shook the ground. Turning towards the village, they saw flames starting to engulf buildings and spread rapidly.
Without hesitation, Jeralt and Bylass marched toward the village, hoping Byleth and the villagers would be safe. The once peaceful village was now a raging inferno, fire consuming everything in its path. The crackling of flames echoed through the air, their heat pressing down on them like a smothering blanket. Frantically scanning the chaos, Bylass searched for any signs of life amidst the burning buildings. Meanwhile, Jeralt remained calm as he directed his men to evacuate the trapped villagers. But then, amidst the chaos, her eyes caught sight of something that made her heart sink—the unmistakable trail of blood marring the charred earth. Without hesitation, she followed it, her dread growing with each step. Amid the flames and smoke, they stumbled upon a horrific scene. Lifeless bodies lay scattered across the ground, their limbs twisted in unnatural angles. And there, standing amidst the carnage, was Byleth with a look of grim determination on his face that sent chills down Bylass's spine.
As the fire crackled and danced in the dim light, her friend emerged as a figure straight out of a nightmare. With long blue hair and icy blue eyes glinting with determination, Byleth effortlessly cut through the remaining bandits with his flashing sword. Each strike was precise and deadly, leaving no room for mercy or hesitation. Bylass watched in both awe and horror as her friend's movements were like a well-choreographed dance of death, his skills unmatched by any mortal. The villagers cowered in fear, their faces contorted in terror at the display of violence before them. And then, in an instant, it was all over. Byleth stood alone amidst the fallen bodies of his enemies, his chest heaving with exhaustion but his face betraying no emotion. As the dust settled and the chaos subsided, houses began to crumble around him, yet he remained unmoved. The villagers now looked at him with a mix of awe and fear, their previous terror turning into anger as they accused him with their accusing stares. Jeralt approached Byleth slowly, his voice trembling with concern for the boy's well-being.
"Byleth, what happened?" Byleth remained silent, his gaze fixed on the villagers who now approached cautiously, their faces contorted with fear and anger. They pointed accusing fingers at him, their voices dripping with venomous accusations.
"He's the one who brought this upon us!"
"He's no savior, he's just another monster hiding behind a façade of humans!"
"Leave us be, we don't want your kind here!"
"Monster? There must be some misunderstanding here." Jeralt replied firmly which seemed to fall on deaf ears.
"Misunderstanding? Are you blind to the carnage he caused?" One woman screamed; her face twisted in rage. "This fire. This carnage. It's all orchestrated by him alone!"
"I did no such thing." Byleth's voice was cold and emotionless. "The bandits started it. I merely tried to stop as best as I could."
"Liar. We saw you butchering those bandits mercilessly without caring what would happen to our people. And your expression when your sword stained with their blood- how could you remain so calm as if they did not bother you at all?"
"You're a harbinger of chaos!" Another man shouted, his voice dripping with disdain. "An Angel of Death sent to bring ruin upon us all." Fury and fear mingled in his eyes as he spat the words at Byleth, who stood unmoving and silent amidst the onslaught of accusations and hatred.
Although Jeralt felt overwhelmed by the tense situation, he managed to stay composed and attempted to diffuse it. However, Byleth brushed off his efforts with a dismissive wave of his hand and turned away, leaving the village behind. As they received coins from the still-glowering mayor, the Blade Breaker ordered his men to leave without delay. Yet the conflicted emotions were still there, leaving him with more questions than answers.
From that day forward, whispers of a feared mercenary spread like wildfire throughout the land of Fodlan. Tales and stories were told in hushed tones, each one more terrifying than the last. They spoke of a man who wielded his sword with deadly precision and left destruction in his wake. A village reduced to ash and rubble; its inhabitants slaughtered without mercy- this was just one of the many horrors attributed to the infamous Angel of Death. His reputation grew, both feared and revered by those who crossed paths with him on the battlefield.
Little did anyone know, all Fodlan would soon learn to fear his name for they could not be more wrong than ever.
