Chapter 15: Militant Force

A/N: I apologize for how long this took. I didn't realise just how big this was gonna get.

All because I decided to follow thirty minutes worth of cutscenes as a guideline.

Anyhow, it's all broken into four chapters for your benefit, readers.

Enjoy.

"In massive damage.."

"More fighting could erupt…"

"Certainly frustrating times, a question of where to place loyalty…"

"A weald that grows ever untamed, amid rising conflict – border skirmishes and blood feuds increasingly spiral out of control. Grimm activity higher than seen since post-War days."

"Tensions in the southern city, Kuchinashi, threaten to spill into Hinoki forests, aggrieving already desperate refugees in search of safety. A portion of which have already gone to ground and have simply disappeared off the face of the world."

House-Captain Yù Shí Bái chose to keep his gaze dancing between the lights and eyes for as much as his mind would allow. The damn paparazzi, curses be to their whole lot, hadn't stopped hounding him ever since this whole mess started. Some came this time with those gods damn cameras that made him wanted to issue an arrest warrant.

Breathing in, hard, he collected himself and took to answering the first questionee he could make sense from the throng.

"By dividing the Autumn Jade troops from Summer Turmeric ones, are you sure that the peace could hold? What do you hope to achieve doing so?"

His blue eyes snapped to the source of the voice. Old face a mask of stone cold professionalism, or so he hoped. However, the light of day -night rather- wasn't on his side, even with the elevation of being on the steps leading up to the governor's residence. Still, it seemed something had gotten these people to shut up. So, he may as well make the most use of it.

"Times are tough, and more so on these men and women beside me and all across the region," he begins, voice leaping clause to clause. "We need to time to… ask who we were, what we fight for, and for who we serve. For me, it's my duty to the House I was raised and tutored under. To my men, it's my hope that they mirror in their hearts that same reason and resolve. Be that as it may, I can assure you, that there won't be anyone who'll be escalating this crisis from my side. No guardsmen will start a fight under my command!"

He had meant to say that final line with as much iron as possible. With as much discretion as possible, he eyed away from the press to try and gauge the lieutenants by his sides, all of which were second or even fourth-borne that didn't want to be here. He found the edges of their visors reflecting camera flashes back at him.

Utterly useless runts.

"We here at Sumika Station bringing you with the latest developments. As of two days ago -and seven since House-Captain Yù Shí Bái's interview- a large daring raid was conducted on several Autumn Jade House Guard camps.

Reports still being disclosed suggest it was done by what is presumably a large Raider group, possibly several of the now well-established Bandit tribes working in conjunction to seize House-grade equipment. They have even went ahead and seized several of the fortified encampments, and converted them into large staging grounds.

In response to this sudden, and bold aggression, Acting Regent and Crown Steward Tiě Hēi was quick to call for an emergency meeting with available Houses in the capital of Mistral. The outcome of the discussions have yet to be released, but we hope to share this with you listeners as soon as possible."

"Preposterous! Troops down south? At this time of the year? Then who will tend to our lands while we're gone," verbalised a lord.

"You have children for that, mudpuller, or is it your sows are not giving you anymore," came the snide remark of another.

"I have plenty just fine, you manwhore. But I have more concern being apart from them than you have for your own bastards! I wonder if any of them are actually with spines compared to their utterly limp father!"

"Look at you two, arguing like dogs," interjected a third "Don't you see we have a crisis on our hands?! Bandits have just raided a House property. If they can do it to one, they can do it to all! We shouldn't be here settling grudges, but instead looking into giving these vile cutthroats a taste of our wraths."

"Fine words, young Lord," expressed the first lord. "But you see, this matter is still much out of our reach. Trying to bring even a single, fully equipped and well-supplied contingent of House Guards will sap most of us here of a lot of what we make in a year, and that's just the cost to transport them by air to the south, let alone back. Besides, this matter is, again, a Southern Houses problem. That place already has two houses, and since only one House was affected, I don't see why we shouldn't just let it solve itself."

"Because having only one House in the South means that all the resources both found and yet to be will default to that one House alone," rasped a fourth voice.

All of those present turned to the voice. It was a thin gold band suspended on a head of wrinkled white hair and wore a fur coat that'd seen better days. Gems adorned the spindled limbs for fingers which clicked the edges of the curved arm rests.

"It is as our good House Lord from the North stated, each of us are tied down to our own settlements and fealties. However, the South is newly broken ground. Much of its problems circulate around the sheer pettiness of that hag they have for a leader in Autumn Jade and the utter impotent of a man in Summer Turmeric."

"So what do you suppose we do?"

A smile broke behind the strands of white. "As we debate, it is the people who suffer, yes? So, I suppose we should allow them the means of standing for themselves."

Once more, the Court was roused into a new wave of tirades, but one voice surfaced above the rest.

"Your out of line, steward! Arming the citizenry?! Do you have any idea what that might do to us?! Giving the means to protect themselves on a large scale, makes us redundant. It'll mean giving them the idea of self-autonomy!"

"I never mean giving them weapons."

"… Pardon?" spoke the voice once more, the gathering listening keenly as well.

The gold band shone in the light as the head turned to the side. From behind the throne, one of the figures which were assumed by the many to have been a retinue for the caretaker stepped forward. Their robes revealed nothing, save that it was a phantom of sorts. The voice within surprised them.

"Greetings," came the feminine tone. "I represent a group of interest that's currently settled in the Hinoki region. We are willing to offer you a…. armed response to the conflict, intervening of course as a third party."

Eyes widened. "Outlanders! Steward, you madman! What are you doing?! If this gets out, the other three Kingdoms will have our heads! Make sense of this suicide, steward."

The shroud turned to the caretaker, who nodded and then turned once more to the court.

"I speak only my group's behalf. The steward has only graciously given us a place and opportunity to speak with you all."

Heads turned to one another, eyes cast suspicious looks and gossip was in the air and circulating around the room. The figure spoke before any consensus was reached.

"We offer this in return," the robe shuffled, and a hand emerged underneath with what looked to be a scroll in its grip. It then set the scroll on the ground, released the latch, and let it unroll into its full length of at least a full man in height.

Then, two figures -similar to the first- came from behind and set up a box-like contraption and a three-legged stand to support it from underneath. Some of those gathered recognised what looked to be camera lenses.

Under operation of one of the figures, light emerged from the lenses, and a collective gasp was heard as they perceived the images on the scroll.

"What sorcer-"

"Moving pictures."

"….What?"

"Moving pictures," the figure's head then inclined. "Or photoplay. This projector lets you see what was recorded on another, similar device and allow it to be seen on a special surface like the one on the floor."

The crowd now gathered to watch what was being shown on the ground. From what was said previously, they could see some obvious sceneries, the streets of Kuchinashi, they're dirty, agony-ridden look in full display.

The scenes shifted and then showed the tide of refugees. Many of which were victims of inhuman violence. Mauled, clawed, impaled and many more. The age and gender did not matter.

Finally, it was the last set of scenes, of which the camera lost any smoothness it had before. The black and white was a mess where it mixed one moment, and then faded from one to the other. In between the scenes, there was obvious fighting happening. It was not man against monster, but man against man.

House Guards.

The final recording, however, was what startled them most. For it featured the atypical brigand, the man apparently inspecting a weapon whilst a settlement burned in the distance. He was joined by another and soon more. They talked animatedly amongst themselves, before moving in the direction of the village.

The recording skipped to show the aftermath, and many turned away.

"Monsters…" someone trailed off.

"This can't be real. How can any of this be? It's cheap tricks still, and I refuse to believe what's shown here," spoke the second voice from earlier.

"…. But weren't we gathered to discuss because that's exactly what's happening over there?" came the distant tone of the youngest noble.

Once more, the court was silent.

Eventually, someone turned towards the robed figure.

"…You come here, prod us to take your service, risking our livelihoods in the process. Show us some fanciful craft. Then, as I'm sure you are aware, expect us to let you do as you please. Is that it? That's your plan, all of it?"

The way they turned their 'head' to the speaker was how a predator pondered before a strike.

"Nothing gained that which isn't gambled. Power begets bigger risks. There is no worth in it, otherwise."

The figure began a deliberate, slow circumnavigation along the edges of the crowd surrounding the centre and around the film crew. They removed their hood to reveal a slim face, and hair tied in a bun. A pair of round glasses for wear, complementing sunburned skin.

"Many years ago, there was a small group of people, who were forced to spent their lives toiling and suffering in the arid deserts of the East. We were but forced labour and our days were spent either starved to the bone, or fighting for work to give us scraps of food. Until, a day came, and we were rescued by a band of brothers.

Those same Brothers then worked to make us strong and wilful once more, and then they gave us the means, so that we may never have to suffer under another oppression again. We stand here today because of them. We stand here today, because, like them, we see something within that you yourselves don't recognise.

Like us, you've been shackled. Humiliated. Worst, others have made you ignorant for those who suffer below you. I am here today to offer you a chance to do something about this. So stand alongside, or behind us, as we take the reins of a wild, but self-destructive period, and shape it into something great."

A hand emerged to point at the projector and screen.

"This is but a taste of what we can do. We can show and do more, but not now. Not when others suffer."

The hand was lowered.

"For every blood and tear that's been spilled, rest assured, we will punish these cruel men tenfold. We will ensure they never crawl out of their hidden huts again, and when the dust has settled, it is you who will benefit the most from our efforts."

"And how so?"

The robe turns to the voice who spoke. "Only the strongest remain after chaos recedes. Now I wonder who that will be? Certainly not the ruling Houses there, I believe. And even if the people have a desire to lead themselves by then. It'd be impossible to do so without the means of guaranteeing their own security from outside threats. Unless they hire an already available force that so happens to be contracted to another city but is proven reliable."

The assistants for the first figure had packed the projector and screen. The two left, and the main figure kept close step behind them.

"Above all, we wish only for your consent to solve the crisis. What happens after is up to you."

With that, the strangers stepped out of the scene. The steward once more addressed for the first time since then.

"What, oh what, shall it be then, my fellow nobles, hm?"

"Gilead, this is Angler."

"Go ahead, Angler."

"The Courts have been enticed. They watch our movements eagerly."

A smile brokered on his face. "Excellent. You're free to act as you see fit. We'll start shaking things up from our end."

"Confirmed."

"…..And Angler?"

"…Yeah?"

"Stay safe."

He cut the comm before a reply could be formed. Turning around, he was met face to face with his aide, who all but blended into the dark room of the command centre.

"Acts with emotion are restricted on severe punishable grounds when on mission, Major."

"Just wishing a Sister well. There's nothing more to it."

A hum. "Well, that better be the case. Otherwise, I may as well have to shoot you when you're least expecting it."

He could only offer another smile as the two strode over to the command table, a dozen steps and less from his own workstation. The large table took up most of the room, and its surface was etched the map of Mistral, primarily the southern half where all current operations were taking place. Other operators worked silently from either station or around the table, with messengers stepping in and out of both exits frequently.

Observing the map, his attention went towards a single red region just southwest of Kuchinashi. Colonel Ming and the rest of the circus that was Zulu company were probably busying themselves torching yet another bunch of poor souls of his choosing. The idea of letting such a monster human run free wasn't to his taste, but the old man was rather insistent in letting the murder-gleeful troop have it way.

"So, I take it that we're getting all popular now?" his aide broke the silence to which he nodded.

"It's exactly as I'd hoped. The Court will never take action unless its directly affecting them. Not like they could either given the Vytal Accord neuters their own troop capacity."

"But their more than willing to make use of mercs? Doesn't there exist a clause against that?"

"It's less about mercs and more about there already being a third-party present on site they can rely on reliably. They trust us more than they trust their own peers, and so long as we play our part 'restoring order' than they have no right to complain."

"The supplies your directing to that city says otherwise."

"Well, nothing about cleaning other people's messes prevents us from evicting the previous occupants. That goes double if those occupants are the problem, no?"

The statement brought a smile to both of them.

A cough. "Major Enlai?"

Turning to the voice, he was met face-to-face with one of the messengers.

"Colonel Ming just contacted us. He says his company is awaiting new orders."

"Well, tell him that Phase 2 is in action as we speak, and that he should start behaving. No more burning down settlements and chasing stragglers in the woods. Have him chat up the bandits again, see which one we're going to have to remove and which we're going to make our new buddies."

"Understood, sir," with a chest salute the messenger left to relay the orders.

"You really don't like that man, do you?" asked the aide.

"I don't like savages in clothing, Gloria," corrected the major. "There's no telling just when they decide to tear off and maul the hand that guides them."

The air was thick in the afternoon, and it made for an awful time.

An awful time that, of course, made him awful, and so it became in his best interest to get the feeling out of his system.

It was such as shame that the locals didn't offer better when it comes to fighting. By Kane, the most recent lot barely had anything that could be called a blade… let alone a gun!

Such pitiful, lowly savages.

Still, the Dust element so prevalent made up for their so many deficits. It made cooking easy, and with the right munitions, easier to ignite.

Scraping behind him alerted him to an intruder. His hearing noted how they stopped within two meters. Good, that meant it wasn't some ignorant buzzcut needing correction with a knife in his neck. Thus, he went back to his meal, and the succulent nature of the crustacean. It took a good five minutes before he turned on his makeshift seat to face the grunt waiting for him.

"Yes, my good man, have something to say?" the corner of his lips twitched as he asked.

"Colonel, command has given us orders. They've cleared us for phase 2," said the grunt, his posture so straight, the superior wondered if he could balance a bar from shoulder to shoulder. "Your orders?"

An exhale, long and drawn out, parted from his chest. "And just when I was wondering if this job was going to get boring."

Turning around, he picked up the steel plate he'd been eating from and offered the crab Rangoon he'd been eating to the soldier. Alas, the young man declined, and so he shrugged and poured out what remained into the rubble that'd once been a house.

"Well, let's get going, shall we?" spoke the colonel, as he pulled out a handkerchief from a pocket. "Tell my lieutenants, finish cleaning up the survivors and to meet me in five. Oh, and tell the flyboys to spin the rotors while you're at it."

Nodding at every word, the masked grunt proceeded to salute and then jog off in one direction. The colonel watched until it was a distance away before turning to walk down his own path. His hope being the food settled down quick enough before boarding time.

He'd taken only a few paces before something cracked under his foot. Looking down, he could every muscle on his face crunch at the bone under his right boot. Charred flesh still clung to it, black upon black. Following with his eyes upward, it revealed the remains of some poor soul leaned against the remains of a wall. Scraps of dark fabric wrapped around it, and clutched tightly to its chest was some basket.

Curious, he knelt to take a better look at the corpse. The quiet scrape of his knife leaving its sheathe filled the air as he prodded the chin of the body. It'd been easy to tell from first glance that it'd been some girl who happened to have a very bad day today.

'I wonder what went through your mind as the flames swallowed you, little one?' he mused.

A strong flick of the knife, and the charred head rolled off the shoulders. It'd been held in place before by strands of blackened flesh, and now that same head came to rest with its 'face' down on the ash covered road.

'Quite a pity,' came one last internal comment. Cleaning his knife on the fabrics, he then stood, sheathed the weapon and continued his journey down the road. A random tune being whistled all the way.

He passed many more piles of burnt rubble. Each step was followed by the occasional snap or crack of bone, and at one point he even kicked over a skull in his way. He paid no mind, for inanimate things don't matter for the living, much less than even those born in worse conditions.

Eventually, he met with the rest of his subordinates. Like him, many wore the colours given to them by their current overseers. A BDU that covered head to toe with white skeletal iconography and red highlights.

As he approached, half a dozen men formed a line next to him.

"Colonel, we're all here. Awaiting your orders," the first in line spoke through his balaclava.

"You've already done your chores, gentlemen?"

"Confirmed Sir, we've done the rounds. Shouldn't be any traces that could go back to us easily. We've also taken care of the leftovers," a thumb pointed behind the man, at a burning granary that also shrieked and howled.

"Well done, well done!" the colonel clapped, his tone jovial. "Now then, onto the bus, gents. We've got more work ahead of us. Oh, this time, we've got to be a tad nicer for this next job."

"Permission to speak, sir?" spoke the third man in line.

"Hm, yes?"

"Do we get to play rough with whoever doesn't play nice?"

Scoffing, the colonel replied. "Of course! To your hearts content, but at my discretion! Now, get on the transports."

Another salute, and the officers ran off. Each went to direct their own platoons. The rotors of each helicopter had picked up full speed, kicking up torrents of ash in their wake, and forcing the colonel to cover his lower face as he moved into the belly of one of the machines.

A dozen or so men joined him. Two-thirds out of an eighteen-man unit. The missing men were victims of their own incompetence to these savages, and he internally bemoaned how he was going to have to file in for fresh blood.

There came a weight-y sensation pulling him down as the craft lifted into the air, scattering more ash as the company was lifted to their next destination. Through one of the windows, he could briefly glimpse the rubbles and the last of the burning lights.

He wondered just how sweet those screams sounded.

"This just in, the mercenary groups requested by the Court of Houses are due to begin conducting military operations within the Hinoki forests, thus bringing what the Steward hopes is an end to weeks' worth of speculation and inaction.

Despite this, scepticism is still in abundance throughout the capital, and experts are at odds with one another over how this will affect relations with the other three kingdoms. We here at Sumika station were able to acquire a recording from our sources as to one of these debates."

….

"I'll ask you again. Was the Steward wise to hire mercenary aid to quell the unrest and banditry around Hinoki?" asked one voice.

"Of course he was!" snapped a second. "Think about it! Mercenaries don't care about political intrigue or its ramifications. They care about getting paid! The steward knows this, and its why he's had both Autumn Jade and Summer Turmeric to withhold their troops from taking further action in the woods. With neither side having to split their resources to deal with the brigands, the effort could be placed into ensuring refugee safety and solving their own feud."

"Hold on, you just contradicted yourself there, mister Representative." interjected a third. "You say, that the mercs won't care about the consequences of their presence in Hinoki. If so, what's to stop them from taking over from where the bandits left off? What is there to stop them from getting too ambitious and seeing opportunity arise from the chaos?"

"You know, she's right," agreed the first. "Aren't mercs often just brigands and bandits themselves? We really putting our trust into solving a problem of cutthroats with more cutthroats?"

"And you are offering a better solution?" challenged the second.

"Why, yes,"replied the third. "The Huntsmen academy has been proven to be a gradually more and more successful enterprise in the last decade. We've seen Grimm reduction like never before in the area around Mistral alone."

"You're changing the problem! Grimm are a menace sure, but they are only a symptom of the much larger crisis."

"And I'm not trying to move you on that, good sir. However, civil protection is inclusive to the curriculum at the Academy. A huntsman is as much a protector against monsters as they are against men."

"But can they differentiate the man from beast? I'll argue that there is a rather stark difference between the two. Even if they are both equally as murderous towards humans, a Grimm still exhibits animal behaviour and eventually flees after seeing a threat far beyond its capacity. A human would not, and you're not dealing with just your typical lawbreaker. Why, some of the most renown bandits were all men with Aura and devastating Semblances. In fact, what's to stop the huntsmen from doing the same as the mercs?"

"They won't because the huntsmen are educated not to. A huntsman has their oath, both to himself and the people around him. That oath binds him to be respectful and to hold life sacred above all."

"Haha! Oaths? Really? Are we talking about fighters, or school children here? Actually, hold that last bit. Isn't the current average of the second generation of huntsmen around twenty-five? That's not factoring in the age limit to enlist which is eighteen, or the minimum wage of their parents which is at worse, the upper middle class. You want to hold the lives of countless young and elderly in the hands of youths whose worse hardship could've been having to stay up late at night for homework?"

"And you think the aged, jaded killer for hire is a better option?"

"I'm saying that we can only meet these ruffians on terms they understand. Violence is only met with violence, and these bandits started a war when they attacked innocent lives."

"And what happens when it all ends, and the violence has nowhere to go?"

"Isn't it obvious? By the time that scenario comes to pass, the victors would have nowhere left but to content with either House Autumn Jade, or House Turmeric. Both, of which, would be in a position to finally reestablish order to the whole region, with support from the refugees. The villagers who lost their homes would finally be able to take it back, and the Houses can earn equal amounts of influence by committing to the resettlement effort. Everybody wins!"

"Are you sure this info is to be shared with our listeners?" asked the first.

"And why shouldn't it? You think those savages know anything about our advanced comms? I doubt they've never even had a proper bed in their lives!"

Somewhere in the deep woods, a pair of binoculars kept watch over the lone patch of open field that snaked through the hills.

The man holding was young. Barely twenty, but his dead eyes betrayed no form of tension or anxiety. Sweat soaked his camouflaged fatigues, and the occasional licking of his lips allowed him to taste the salt in his own sweat.

Still, the perch he was in wasn't all too bad. Not when it compared to the people making their way through the clearing below. A silent prayer was sent to his Messiah for the provisions His Brotherhood provided for the mission. His sole reason for raising the Lazarus was to have a chance fulfilling His wishes once more, even if it was by proxy.

Currently, his task was to observe and keep his superiors informed on the whereabouts of the locals fleeing from the bandits. He honestly felt miserable for them and knew what it was like to be driven out and left for dead. Yet, little could be done as the Wisdom did not reach those people yet, and those who could do the good work say it is not yet the time to do so.

Another prayer: This time, asking for the poor souls to find peace either this life or the next.

Even from the current distance, the binocs could make out just how filthy the people below were. Some -mostly the children- had it better and were just slightly cleaner. Yet, despite this, the exhaustion was great and could be seen so amongst the adults. Moreso, he'd yet to see even a single elder amongst the group in the past two weeks since he first found them.

In a way, it was more like watching a herd than an exodus.

Crunch.

A sound made him stiffen. Instinctively, he drew his elbows as close as his leaning position would allow, readying himself for a roll. Whatever approached closed in and he soon heard more distinctive sounds.

Breathing. Not human, but animal.

Carefully, he spared a glance below him. From he sat on a tree branch, he just about could make out the white spikes of the monstrosity that crept below him.

Someone else would've done this encounter different. Maybe they'd fight or tried to climb higher. Yet, all he did was relax and breathe. He allowed the unnatural to wash over him, giving him the first cold he'd had in hours. He turned inwards and forced his heart to lower its pulse. Such was the way he'd taught himself all his life, and the reason he was chosen to be a scout.

The beast growled. He could hear its frustration. Hear the deep want it had for the thing it considered prey but couldn't pinpoint. There was a random series of bark-howls, and even wild swings of its forelimbs. One swing slammed the base of the tree he hid in, the lesser branches fell.

Yet, tried as it might, no prey appeared. Its attention was soon driven elsewhere.

Mainly, to the woman who screamed in the distance.

A loud growl, and it scrambled off. The man in the tree did not wait. Rather, he quickly pulled up the lowered binocs and spotted the commotion in the distance.

One hand was quick to then reach for a hidden handset amidst the branches.

"East-India, this is Fox 4."

"Go ahead, Fox 4."

"Bandit sighted in my AO. Mission asset critical. Suggest immediate action."

"…. Copy, Fox 4. We're sending the QTF to your AO."

"Confirm but be advised. Grimm are in the area. QTF be ready to respond."

"Copy, Fox 4. Keep us posted as the situation develops."

"Wilco."

Screams, roars, and slaughter kept them cowed within the cart.

His two children were wailing hard, and he could feel his own tears dripping down past his chin and adding to the soaked fabric of his tunic.

'This was it,' he thought. 'It was finally their end.'

His thoughts turned to his late wife. Her smile as she kept assuring her family she'd get better even as she breathed her last.

They turned to his parents. Their elderly frames pressed together as they and so many other elder folk waved at them from within the compound of what was soon to be an empty village.

They finally turned to his brother. Half-naked, starved and crazed all at once, and who he knew not if he lived with all the fighting going on outside.

A crackling thunder sounded outside, and a women howled. His daughter whimpered loudly and he shushed her the best he could. A warm sensation on his left thigh alerted him that his son might've relieved himself, but he felt no anger, just a deep desire to hug him tighter.

There was shouting. The only way out between the stacks of hay that filled the cart was the same way in, and now there stood a man on the other end. He could make out the wild eyes that stared at him with glee.

"There's more here! Hey, there's mo-"

Roaring thunder broke the already chaotic atmosphere. Yet, this was far louder than before. His ears ringed, and, whether by instinct or desire, both his hands moved to cover his little ones as best he could. Through squinted eyes, he barely noticed the crazed man being pushed back by unseen force.

Another man approached; his olive-green wear verily distinct. In his arm was a streamlined weapon, but not one he'd ever seen. One thing for sure, was that he now knew what caused that horrible sound from earlier, as the second man unleashed fire on the body of the first man.

Not a moment after, said fire-wielding stranger turned towards them. The expressionless face belied the harsh look in his eyes.

"Get out," he brandished his weapon at him and the children. "Get out! All of you out, now!"

Not in a position to fight, he obliged. Slowly, ushering his children forward at the stranger's seemingly ever-increasing annoyance.

"You with village?" queried the man, his strange wording sounded as unpleasant as his looks. "You with village?!"

Nodding quickly to avoid harm, the man than lashed out with one hand, forcefully dragging him in one direction. The children followed, clinging to his tunic.

Sparing glances around him, he noted the mess that was their caravan. Bodies were strewn about. He could still hear the loud roars and false thunders around him. There was not a place for him to walk without fear of stepping on a corpse.

"Uncle…" broke his son. He looked and found the body of his brother to his right. Three arrows protruded from his chest, and a hatched buried into his skull.

"Keep moving!" shouted the man behind him.

Soon, they reached the clearing and the forest loomed over them. More bodies, but these were similar to the band of men who attacked them. A few were still alive, tied and with their wounds still bleeding profusely.

Then, came a roar behind him.

If the hairs on his body could be made to stand more, then they certainly did. He'd lived long enough in life to know the sound of the black monsters. Lived and even aided in their quaint village's defence on occasion in the distant past. Hence, by instinct, he all scooped both children into his arms and held them close as he turned to face where the roar came from, foolish as it was.

He turned just in time to see a wall of fire erupt on the other side of the caravan. The sudden intense flash nearly robbed his sight, and he counted whatever twisted stars watched him now that his children were looking the opposite way with their chins pressed into both his shoulders.

A mighty wind pushed him down, and it was followed by a cloud and more flashes. He turned to look anywhere but the rising flames. It was then he noted how calm the men around him looked. Some continued busying themselves herding both survivors and prisoners. Others were talking to one another, and occasionally made gestures that warranted sudden urgency.

"Hey! Up! Up! You move now!" a familiar voice screamed. He barely caught up to the man's harsh act once again. He found himself being dragged-guided towards the woods where more men seemed to be standing with their weapons at the ready.

A final push, and he and his children found themselves deep in the shrubbery. Only to emerge the other end, and, mostly to his surprise, a gathering of villagers. More were appearing from the bushes as well, and each with their own armed escorts who then ran back into the shrubs as fast as they came.

Questions swam in his head, but it seemed that most of the people were still dazed from the attack still. With not else to do, he opted to sit in a small clearing and adjusted his grip on both his children. It was also around that time, did he realise just how sore his arms were.

Outside of half a dozen more, the caravan was now entirely empty.

However, the Grimm were upon them now, and the sergeant was issuing a rally.

"Warriors! Face to the beasts! Meet them with fire and steel!"

Xiaobo swallowed, heart hammering his ribcage, and sweat building in his palms. His assault rifle was both heavy and light in the moment. He clambered up and onto the wagon, his brother-in-arms-and-faith, pulling him by the strap as they both looked out over the wall of fire that kept the moving mass of black abominations at bay. One hand went to an ammo belt that was wrapped around his left shoulder, setting on the wooden rail of the wagon.

He heard his brother exhale. "Why do we always get some of the lousiest jobs?"

"Nobody asked you to come back from the dead," he replied back, amidst giving his weapon a quick inspection. "Yet here you are."

The gunner licked his lips, an audible click at the end. His trigger finger loose and at the ready to fire. Blinking twice, he turned to his partner.

"What's the point of all this, anyways? Shouldn't we be taking this fight to the people up top?" inquired the man.

"You think I know shit? Pass it on to the Sarge or deacon. My job is to watch your back and keep that lawnmower firing."

The gunner shook his head. "You think one of them could explain why I can't get you off my back?"

"If I'm not here, no one's gonna mourn your sorry ass."

Satisfied with his check, the support gunner readied himself and aimed down his sight towards the flames.

"Who mourns for the ones doing the dying?"

Hearing that, something akin to a loud scoff escaped the rifleman. Nothing else was said however, and somewhere amongst the mess of wagons, their squad's deacon was finishing up a battle sermon. He knew the verse, it was a mix of the old ways of his homeland; or rather, homeworld now.

The sermon reached a crescendo as the flames began to wane and the roar of monsters were heard. But it wasn't just the monsters who roared.

In terms of ferocity, the men of Nod spoke in the language of lead saturation.

"Just as I predicted! With the mercenary presence in full swing, the bandits are beginning to be routed! Serves them right for troubling the common folk."

"Now don't get ahead of yourself there, mister Representative. While certainly, it definitely seems the tribes are culled, but what of the mercenary now? How come they're only digging in and erecting their own settlements around Hinoki?"

"Isn't it obvious? Just because these brigands are setback, doesn't mean that they wouldn't still try their luck once more. Only a long term, definitive presence helps stops any renewed attempts at causing suffering for the common folk."

"Is that really necessary? Shouldn't the de-escalation of armed intervention take priority now? With the bandit attacks decreasing, the Council of Mistral should be taking steps to help refugees with resettlement once more. Yet, from reports we're gathering, the influx of refugees has only increased in Kuchinashi."

"And? Isn't that within the right of the people? Why would you want the villagers to return home anyway? In fact, what home would they have? You mean the empty, pilfered rubble that is no doubt home to Grimm now? I honestly am surprised that you'd even consider such an act, given how much you put emphasis on Grimm being a bigger threat than even the bandits."

"Kuchinashi may be more defensible, but it is still a city that is polarised by the friction of two houses. Two houses, that mind you, may attempt to use the desperation of these refugees to their own interests by taking them in, and turning their able-bodied youngsters into soldiers for their power struggle."

"And this is a problem, how? Under a protection of a House, an individual's family is supported and given all basic amenities needed to survive. This has been the standard all Houses are upheld by since the Laws came first into conception long before the Great War."

"It's a problem when said families are permanently dependent on their Lord's ability to provide for them. What of their freedom? What of their ability to choose for themselves? That right of individuality is a pillar of what the Peace Accords were signed on, and given the history of the Houses, the current sociopolitical situation infringes on those rights."

"…. Freedom? Right of Individuality? Tell me more you're joking, ma'am. Are you seriously stretching a domestic security situation into an inter-Kingdom one? First off, what good is freedom when put against forces beyond your control? What good is being an individual when you can't sustain enough wealth to buy yourself a decent meal? Do you even understand the nature of suffering the refugees are going through now?"

"I don't see you being a beacon of virtue either."

"AHEM! Anyways, posturing aside, I think our listeners would like us to return to a more relative topic regarding the current state of affairs. Namely, both Summer Turmeric, and Autumn Jade Houses have begun to initiate military manoeuvres into Hinoki forest. Now, mister Representative, why is that?"

"Thank you, mediator. Now, it's fairly obvious! Without having to worry about the bandits, the Houses have been able to reach some form of hidden concession regarding their personal squabbles. Now, they can both turn their attention of reestablishing control over the region beyond the city walls. In time, their expanding presence would undoubtedly bring about a new blanket of security for the entire region. One that would eclipse even the mercenaries, who by then would wisely retire with their coffers full of spoils and bounty."

"And, in the interim, I have no doubt that the Huntsmen Academy of Mistral will be able to lend much needed aid. No doubt, with help from the dozens of eager Huntsmen, the remaining refugees will be able to settle in new homes."

"Still posturing for your schoolchildren, I see. Well, fine then! Be at it, woman. I hope that for your sake, that your precious student body is as good as you think they are."

"And I pray that your own prognosis over the mercenaries ends up being true."

A/N: I've taken liberties in breaking this huge chapter into sizeable chunks for your convenience. Peace!