Claude made his way through the throng of peasants and farmers, each of them stepping out of his way with reverence. Their eyes were alight with a fervor, all of them staring at him as if he were the archbishop. Ready to follow him to hell and back, after Rhea's speech.

And to think, it had been nearly a year since the Golden Deer had been politely chased out of all the Edmund villages.

Rhea stood next to Ferdinand, a serene expression on her face. One hiding a burning storm of rage, a tempest tightly controlled by an experienced wordsmith. She extended her hand outward, gesturing towards Claude. "The faithful are ready, Duke Riegan." The townsfolk all murmured their agreement. The woman was in her element. "What say you?"

Claude finally stopped next to the archbishop, and looked back at his comrades. The rest of the Golden Deer were nervous, glancing back and forth, unsure of what to make of all this. Their group wasn't particularly religious, even before everything went up in smoke, so this sudden burst of religiosity with Claude at the center of things made things uneasy. Even Marianne, the most pious among them, was biting her lip. And Hilda…

For once in his life, Claude saw the woman completely dumbstruck.

Not that he blamed her. Claude had never really bought into Fódlan's one and only religion. It was kind of creepy at the best of times, with Rhea a walking enigma and church service a seeming requirement among nobles. And after everything that had gone down in the past five years, not to mention Garreg Mach being reduced to rubble, Claude was perfectly happy to write off the entire Church of Seiros as a sham. What kind of goddess couldn't be bothered to save her faithful's greatest stronghold?

But here he was. Standing next to Rhea. A dragon in human clothing. Being offered the chance to play as her champion, or more likely, her puppet. All so he could better rally some peasants to help fight a battle he had just decided to quit.

Claude caught Hilda's eye one last time. Her nervous, uncomfortable expression told him everything he already knew. Really, there had only ever been one option.

"Well." Claude said. "Let's not disappoint the goddess, shall we?"

Failnaught twitched against his fingers as the crowd roared.

"What the hell was all that?" Claude demanded. Rhea, Seteth, and their party were all sitting across from him, around an old gnarled table. A few candles were flickering in and out with the draft, even with the great tent they were in fully nailed down.

Rhea cocked her head. "Deliverance." Claude was not satisfied, so she continued. "You have spent the last five years hated and feared by your people, despite fighting to free them."

"And so you—what, you made me one of your knights? A saint?"

"The word of the goddess provides comfort to all in difficult times." Rhea responded. "As archbishop, my voice carries a weight no duke or king ever can."

Claude shifted on his feet. "And in return?"

Rhea blinked. "You aid us in killing Nemesis and his ilk, of course."

"...That's it?"

Seteth nodded, and Rhea dipped her head.

"That's it…" Hilda muttered. Claude glanced over to Dorothea, Edelgard, Ferdinand and Hubert.

"And you four are fine with this? You were desperate for me to go make trouble in empire lands not too long ago."

Dorothea spoke up first. "We thought it would be best to cut off the head as quickly as possible, but that doesn't seem like it will happen soon. For now, we plan to help you break open a hole so we can escape back home to where we can do the most good."

"You all do know I'm aiming to free the alliance first and foremost, right?" Claude finally sat down on the stool that had been provided. "And that's going to be hard enough as it is. Don't expect any miracles, where we sweep through and reconquer the empire in the next few months."

Rhea shrugged. "I fought Nemesis for a century. I am prepared."

Claude found himself sharing off-balanced glances with the Black Eagles. In particular, Edelgard seemed unnerved.

"Well, that's that then!" Hilda exclaimed loudly to break the tension. "What's our first move? Who are we hitting first?"

Again, Rhea shrugged. "You know these lands best. I am content to go where I am needed."

Claude studied the woman for a moment. Gone was the gentle but fierce woman from five years ago, the gentle caretaker of Garreg Mach. This Rhea was violent and fierce, and didn't care about anything other than killing her quarry. She stared back at Claude with a long, distant look, like he too was just someone in the way of her path.

It really was unnerving. "...We'll have to keep fighting more and more Imperial soldiers, and once news of this latest group being annihilated reaches their command, someone competent might show up and give us some real grief."

"Maybe Caspar will be sent out?" Hilda suggested. "He came here two years ago. And boy, was it fun to wrap him around my finger."

Dorothea giggled at that. "Did you really keep him running back and forth between the Airmid and the Throat for a whole month, or was Hilda just exaggerating?"

"Caspar's thickheadness made anything possible." Claude snorted. "But back on topic. Recruiting peasants is fine and all, but if we want to make a real impact, we'll have to recruit the nobles and their remaining armies. People who actually know how to fight." He glanced back at Rhea. "And I don't think they'll listen to me just because you tell them to."

She didn't seem concerned. "The alliance always lacked piety."

Claude could only wonder why. "So we'll need a real show of force. Something to prove that I'm a leader worth putting their necks out on the line for." He gestured to Rhea and Seteth. "How often can you two turn into those…forms? And how many Imperial soldiers can you kill in that time?"

Seteth exhaled. "The transformation is stressful. Exhausting. And can take more than a month to recover from." His eyes grew hard. "More importantly, any large formation of imperial soldiers is bound to have some Agarthans among them, ready to turn some poor souls into Demonic Beasts. And if there are enough…" Now his hand seemed to reflexively clutch his flank. Like an old wound. "It is difficult to grapple at that size."

"Not a blunt instrument, then." Claude grunted. "Saved for special occasions."

If Rhea had any reservations about being described as a weapon, she didn't show it. Claude continued on. "In that case, let's skip a few steps ahead. If we are to retake the alliance, we are going to have to control a few key areas." He raised a finger. "First is Myrddin, so we can try to control the flow of troops from imperial lands." Then another. "The Throat, so we can keep the Almyrans out." Hilda's mood soured at the mention. Claude raised his third and final point. "And the Gloucster lands, which has become the central hub since Deridriu went up in smoke."

"...All of which cannot be accomplished without massive manpower." Edelgard correctly surmised.

"So we call on the kingdom." Hubert added. "We cannot rely on any Liecester army until you prove your strength. Outside help would have to be used. The tricky part will be getting the kingdom to give enough troops—"

"No." Claude shook his head. "This has to be an alliance army. Not another nation coming to our aid. Not another alien army coming to occupy us. It's the only way this will work."

"Be reasonable, Claude." Seteth shot back. "With the state Leicester has been reduced to, you need more aid than the land can provide. If you are to fight the garrisoned imperial troops, and Count Glouscter's forces, and—"

"It won't come to…all of that." Claude glanced at Hilda. "How long has it been since Leonie—"

"Before the death, I think."

"Right. We'll send her out. With a letter from me." He turned back to Rhea. "Your forces aren't big enough to be seen as an conquerers. How many knights can the church spare?"

"A few hundred, perhaps."

"It'll do." His brow furrowed. "I'll have another letter to write that'll have to be delivered personally…I suppose there will be more than a few foreign troops. Will have to get through—" His voice shifted into a growl for a moment. "—that traitor's territory…but maybe my plans haven't changed…"

Hilda's eyes slowly widened. "Claude, you can't mean—"

"It's the only way to keep Leicester in one piece after all this." He snapped. Hilda paused, before scoffing.

"I am pleased that you are ready to act." Rhea leaned forward. "But there is one other thing we must do before striking. It will require all of you."

"But you said there wasn't—"

"This is different." Rhea cut in. "A military target you didn't mention. That you were unaware of."

Seteth's hair bristled while the imperials all looked at each in confusion. Claude rolled his eyes. "What is it?"

"Something that should have fallen long ago." Rhea met Claude's stare, her own eyes smoldering with hate. "I had hoped to recruit Macuil to the task, but between Seteth and I, two relics, the inbound knights, and the strength everyone has displayed, we will manage."

Hubert's eyes widened. "You can't possibly mean—"

"Our enemy's forces are spread thin, across all of Fódlan." Rhea stretched her neck. It made a loud, ominous crack. "Now that Claude has joined his cause with ours, we have enough strength, and the means to strike quickly while they are distracted, and think that we are in the north."

Seteth's eyes narrowed. "Rhea. This is foolishness—"

"It has stood five years too long." The woman let out a long hissing sound. Like a wyvern about to dive a passing deer. "Shambala must burn."

7th of Red Wolf Moon

Thales moved through the corridors of the imperial palace silently. Grand tapestries hung on the walls, with elaborate reliefs of eagles and past emperors carved into the masonry and columns. As he descended down the floors, the opulence gradually faded, becoming less and less decorated as the servant quarters began to dominate the floor plan, before finally completely vanishing once he entered the basements.

The glow of flame and magic illuminated the cold stone halls, with only the faint whiff of sea-breeze penetrating the cold stone walls. Agarthans hurried past Thales, moving to and fro their assignments, only stopping to give him the expected bows.

Eventually, Thales arrived at his destination: a small room up a flight of stairs, guarded by two soldiers who snapped to attention as he arrived. Thales waved them off, and opened the door on his own.

Inside, the same dark stone covered the walls. The room was sparsely decorated, but featured three windows looking out into Enbarr: more specifically, a training field covered in sparse grasses and littered with dozens of men.

Nemesis sat in a chair in the center of the room, idly watching the exercises. A number of tubes ran down from the ceiling, dark liquids oozing down into the king.

If the man had noticed Thales enter, he didn't show it. Thales cleared his throat, and gave stiff bow. "King Nemesis. Our preparations for the next offensive are nearly complete."

The ancient man didn't react, and continued to stare out the windows. Thales continued. "We've received news. Seiros has been spotted by one of our Relic-wielders. She is leading an insurgency in Leicester."

At that, Nemesis grunted. "So the sow has shown herself—"

"Oh, there's more."

Instead of taking his head off, Nemesis turned. Thales gave a small smirk. "After going over her testimony in fine detail, our woman mentioned one of the archbishop's traveling companions. A young woman with white hair, and a talent for fire magic."

Nemesis' eyes smouldered, promising violence. "And?"

Thales exhaled. "We've been working on the countermeasures you requested. Unfortunately, there isn't enough material left of the first."

"What of the second?" Nemesis' voice rumbled.

Thales gave a slight grin. "Will be ready in a few short weeks. More than enough time."

"Excellent." Nemesis' eyes returned to the training field. "And all of our other surprises?"

"Ready and waiting for your command." Thales glanced through the window, following the king's line of sight. Kronya was fighting with another combatant, and from the look of things, losing. "Is your charge—"

Nemesis leaned forward. "He'll be ready." The blade flew out of Kronya's hand, and the woman yelped in pain. Her opponent used the flat of his blade to shove her off balance with a quick flick. She joined a dozen other soldiers all laying flat on the ground. The man then quickly dodged out of the way of an incoming spell. Myson was the caster, from the look of things.

Thales pursed his lips. "Are you certain? They always were…mercurial. And this boy—"

Myson tried to strike with another blast of magic, but his opponent vanished in a blink, reappearing next to the mage with a blade against his throat.

"Will deliver. My tutelage is strict but fair." Nemesis chucked, clapping as Myson sank to his knees in defeat. "Again!" Nemesis shouted out. "And this time, you only use one sword."

His opponent, a young mercenary with dark clothes, an orange scarf, and a patch of purple hair seemed to laugh, before turning back to Kronya and the other soldiers, who had recovered. The boy sheathed one of his blades, and gestured for her to try again.

"This one's not like your kind." Already, Kronya was disarmed. "He's a warrior."

Something short this time, and a bridge to the future. As the 50th chapter I hoped the teases were big enough to keep you all wanting more.

But yes, 50 chapters. I really hadn't expected this fic to go on this long—in truth, my first draft had part 1 ending around chapter 25 or so. But plans change, and things expand—to think the first chapter was published before the DLC dropped—so here we are now. I'd like to thank you all for sticking around this long, and for reading through the backlog if you're more of a newcomer. I hope to see this fic through to the end, and to keep you all entertained all the way through.

And most of all, thanks to Dox for sticking as beta reader since chapter 9 or so. Thanks again, friend!

Also, if you're at all interested, I wrote another three houses fic: it's about Rhea, and her past in the Adrestian empire. More specifically, doomed romances, unplanned pregnancies, and political alliances sealed with marriages. I tried to make it canon compliant, while also fitting in as backstory for Rhea in this fic (which may or may not inform a lot of her relationship with Edelgard, both in the past and upcoming chapters). Think of it as a special thank you bonus chapter for coming this far.