*Phendrana Drifts [Remastered] (Metroid Prime OST)

**Hidden Sorrow (Tales of Symphonia OST)

***Misery in Hand (FE14 OST)

"Alright, form up, you lot!" cried the staff officer. "Sir Pietro will be arriving any second!"

Those clad in the purple-black armor, regular or not, who required any further instruction could be counted on one hand, organizing themselves into perfect, single-file rows as to await their prince and his general, Pietro the Savagekiller. As the great doors of Krakenburg creaked open, the prince-regent had at his side a severe-looking man some forty years of age, his spotless black armor and immaculately trimmed mustache contrasting with his scarred visage. "I trust they are to your liking, milord?" he inquired.

"Excellently done, Pietro. Send my regards to your staff." congratulated Leo. "The men I've allotted you should be more than enough to deal with this rabble aligned against us, but it seems that more than a few of Mikoto's rats have failed to accept the inevitability of the situation. I trust you are up for the task?"

The knight cracked a crooked grin, giving a light bow. "Not to worry, my liege." he assured. "I live for this sort of thing, after all. You are of course, well aware of how I received my sobriquet."

"That's precisely why you're just the man for the job, Pietro. If things should however, take an unforeseen turn, just send word back. Hans and his men are stationed at the border to provide reinforcement where necessary."

"Milord, you wound me! That you should think so lowly of my skill that I would require a common bandit to come to my rescue! No, for your coronation gift, I shall bring you the brat's head and the scalps of any foolish enough to follow her into this abyss."

"But Father, please!" plead Flora. "We cannot afford any longer to ignore these whispers about Nohr!"

*The Ice Tribe chief's expression curled into a scowl. "Again with this nonsense, girl?!" growled Kilma. "Need I remind you about our situation regarding Windmire? About how you spent years there as a literal hostage to keep me in line? We are already on the thinnest of ice possible with them and with Prince Leo ascending to the throne, we have a golden opportunity to prove our loyalty to them! If those old fools Fuga and Kikai want to get their peoples slaughtered to the last man, woman, and child by Nohr over hearsay, that is their problem, but I'll be damned if I'll risk the survival of our people over some high-and-mighty Hoshidan propaganda!"

"Father, this is no longer about 'kernels' of truth to said rumors! Entire clans do not just vanish into thin air of their own accord!"

"We are not having this conversation again, Flora! I'm aware of how difficult it must be for you to lose your sister. It is even more difficult for me losing my daughter. But we cannot afford to go off on some fanciful, foolhardy quest against Windmire purely due to your grudge against them which we can scarcely afford. You know fully well how they deal with any sort of insubordination."

"With all due respect, Father, if you wish to see grudges against Nohr among our people, my feelings towards them do not even register by comparison."

Flora sighed in frustration as her father's expression remained stony and resolute. "Flora, I do not care about the wild-eyed, fanciful stories the Hoshidans and Flame Tribe have cooked up to save their own skins, but there will be no betrayal of Nohr as long as I am chief, and that is final. Do you understand, Flora?"

"Yes, Father." Flora lied. "I understand."

"And don't even think about going behind my back by sending that little puppy dog of yours, whatever his name is, on some fanciful quest to look for proof which does not exist."

"Yes, Father."

As Flora exited her father's dwelling with a light bow, she took several steps before acknowledging the figure lounging against an evergreen tree. "So I suppose you heard all that?" she inquired, knowing well the answer.

The figure, a rugged, somewhat-scarred man her own age with lime-green hair, merely scoffed with disgust. "Stubborn old bastard's going to be the death of us all." he remarked. "How many times have you had that exact conversation with him? And the kidnappings ALWAYS pick up regardless."

"Florian, Father just wants what's best for the tribe."

"So do you! We both know damned well that Nohr is behind these disappearances. Gods only know what kind fucked-up motives are behind them!"

"Even so, he is correct about one thing; even if we are against his unquestioning quiescence to them, any rash actions we take could very well lead to disaster, Florian."

"What, you don't trust me, the Champion of the Ice Tribe, to protect you?"

"No, it's just I don't trust you to defend all of our people everywhere. Nohr's resources far outstrip what we could even dream of scraping together and as much as you like to think otherwise, you're NOT invincible. Let's face it, you've always been kind of careless."

Florian gave a toothy grin. "Haven't been to Mount Garou lately, have you?" he inquired half-facetiously. "You know Lupina, their acting chieftainess? She's been spitting fire for weeks now; she's damn near ready to take her entire pack and storm Windmire for what they've done to her brother. And you say I'M unnaturally hot-headed."

"Oh, dear." Flora remarked heavily, her face curling into a pensive expression not-unlike that of her father. "What did they do to him?"

"No one knows for sure. A bunch of rumors mainly. All anyone knows is that it can't be anything good. While I obviously don't have any proof, I'd bet my best blade it's got something to do with all the disappearances as of late."

Flora shut her eyes tight, attempting to process all the disparate information into some sort of reasonable plan of action. She'd never been at all passion-driven like her sister, but methodical, careful, and calculating. Yes, her father had a very good point about about their tense situation with their overlords and that any retribution for insubordination would be swift and brutal, particularly after the mercy they had been shown in the past year alone. However, the exact same rumor about the modus operandi of the supposed perpetrators and victims alike does not simply spread across an entire continent among very disparate peoples in the space of a couple of months without a good deal of truth behind said rumor, a fact which Flora could not ignore in good conscience or the interest of the tribe.

"Father will send me to Windmire to represent him at Prince Leo's coronation." she informed at last. "I figure we could manage a detour or three on our return trip."

The hero grinned mischievously. "Well, well, how devious of you, good girl Flora!" he barbed. "I approve."

"Yes, and if it's absolutely necessary, we should be able to slip pretty easily past Nohrian lines into Hoshido. It will be dangerous, but-"

"Sounds good to me!"

"Finally, if I'm unable to talk to her before, during, or after the coronation festivities, if all else fails, if word from the merchants' guild is true, we should be able to find Lady Corrine in-"

Florian's expression turned stony and hateful at the mention of, his counterpart, the Nohrian champion's name. "Fuck her." he spat. "Fuck her, we can do this without the bitch."

Flora simply rolled her eyes at her childhood friend's mule-headedness. "In case you hadn't noticed, our status with the Nohrians is not so high to begin with." she reminded condescendingly. "Particularly mine. Lady Corrine is our only link to that world and probably our best chance to find out some of its dirty secrets. And you just dislike her because you lost to her, Florian."

"So I can't dislike her for that reason too? Need I remind you about her tendency towards indulging monsters so long as she shares some twisted 'familial' affection for said monster? Like that bitter, twisted, power-hungry old shell of a man named Garon?"

"Yes, I kind of agree with you, but come on, be rational: What would you have really done in her position?"

"The very second I got strong enough, I'd somehow get him alone in the woods, run him through with the best sword I could get my hands on and never look back! Judging by some of the rumors about the last years of his life, it would have been doing him a kindness; a mercy killing."

"Florian-"

"That whole country is about to collapse in on itself due to its own corruption; a demon like him doesn't run or ruin a country like that all on his own. You mark my words, Flora: She's gotten too used to the monster-indulging act and will do it again. Mark. My. Fucking. Words."

The hero rising up and stalking away from his shade, Flora meditated on the harsh words of her tribesman. Surely a man so cruel and almost-inhumanly ruthless in the highest heights of power could only be a (at the very most) once-in-a-lifetime curse?*

"But Duke Guillaume, I truly do not see the need for this kind of thing!" plead Corrine "Is it not needlessly cruel?"

The duke jingled once more the considerable bag of gold handed to him by a fellow Nohrian noble as his narrow, angular face contorted towards the princess in disbelief as the expressions of eight young Hoshidans chained and manacled behind him ranged from scowls of defiance to those of depressed resignation. The four women however, all wore expressions of abject terror and despair.

"I really do not believe you understand the game, milady." said the duke with contempt, attaching the sack to his belt. "I am providing a good for my fellow landowners which will stimulate the economy, bringing more benefit to our people and country. How could you be opposed to that?"

"I'm not! Never! But how can you-"

"And need I remind you how these arrogant savages so selfishly refused to share their bounty with us Nohrians? As far as I'm concerned, we are owed such compensation for their intransigence and hubris. And besides, it's not like there's any shortage of them. Remember during the war, however many we killed, there were always five more to replace them? And look at it this way: They would certainly be doing the exact same thing to us were we in their position, if not worse. And besides, the ones we put to work in Nohr will at least get some culture in them unlike these poor unwashed slobs."

As if grasping at an invisible neck, Corrine gestured in frustration before sighing aggressively. "Can you at least ensure they'll be treated humanely?" she inquired.

The duke shot the princess a confused, it's-really-not-my-problem sort of glare. "Yeah, I'm sure." he fibbed. "Now if that'll be all, milady, I have more very important business to attend to."

Deciding it wise to leave before she said something she could not take back, the princess collected Azura and showed them out of the commandeered estate. After the incident in Leo's garden two weeks prior, Corrine had actually looked forward to her assignment in Hoshido, the prince's moodiness and thinly-veiled hostility towards his azure-haired stepsister becoming just that oppressive. While granted the rank of general and theoretically only second in rank to Dukes Toscana and Bayern, ever since her arrival, Corrine had found her efforts to make the occupation somewhat less harsh on the average Hoshidan were seemingly blocked at every turn; from attempting (and failing miserably) to keep the list of capital crimes confined to truly heinous acts such as murder to the mundane things such as maintaining morale ("I hope I get transferred soon." went a common complaint among her troops. "The general is such a buzzkill! I hear Sirs Pietro and Hans don't give a rip about what you do to the savages!" went another), everything at play seemed to be working against her.

Already well-aware of her presence, the green-haired ninja made an abrupt about face, giving Corrine a light bow. "Lady Corrine." greeted Kaze. "How went your meeting? I would have been there myself, but as you're already aware, people like me...aren't really allowed in places like this."

"The duke continued his buying and selling of Hoshidan slaves as she plead against it." Azura replied for her girlfriend, uncharacteristically bluntly. "How do you think it went?"

"Azura!" protested a scandalized Corrine.

"That's exactly what it was, Corrine. There's no way we can whitewash this."

Kaze shut his eyes briefly, meditating on his thoughts. True, Lady Corrine had saved his life, putting her own on the line to do so and he genuinely did believe in her ideals about how the world should work. But the rest of the kingdom, on the other hand, was a different story: He could deal with some of the comments ("Does it do tricks?") , but constantly being referred to as "it" or "pet savage" was quite grating, to say the least, to say nothing of the fact that there was little, if anything he could say to those who outranked him in protest.

"Yes, it is...unfortunate, milady." Kaze stated. "I was not aware that such attitudes were so prevalent and once again for my earlier incompetence. It was almost as if Prince Leo expected to be followed."

Corrine managed a weary smile and sighed. "You needn't apologize, Kaze." she said. "You did the best that you could with what you had available. If only Leo knew; he would put a stop to all this."

"It would be wise to keep a log of such abuses." said Azura grimly. "If the reports come from you, Leo will have no choice and since we'll be in Windmire for his coronation soon, it is particularly imperative."

"Lady Corrine, if it pleases you, I would like to search the area around which I lost track of Prince Leo for any clues as to his activities."

As she strode about the Hoshidan capital with her two companions in tow, Corrine took some slight solace in the beginnings of some reconstruction efforts to the heavily-damaged city. However, something inescapable inevitably dampened any hopefulness in the dragon princess as she took in the average person's expression. Without fail, gone were the contented, lively, serene expressions she had witnessed when she was first welcomed home by her mother. In their stead, the average man, woman, and even child now wore expressions betraying some combination of despair, terror, dread, resignation, and anger, one or two being the most prominent depending upon the individual, violent anger particularly common among those who dared face her. These however, were rare, as the consequences for failing to "show proper respect to ones superiors" could be very harsh, illustrated quite well as the trio reached the city square.

As a crowd of Hoshidans read-slash-viewed a series of large, brand-new signposts with a mixture of worry among all and silent indignation among many, overlooked proudly by a smug, spectacled man, his new finery among his deprived contemporaries quite ostentatious. "Ah, well met, general." he greeted in his slightly-higher-than-average tone. "Come to appreciate my fine calligraphy?"

Corrine rolled her eyes, already exhausted emotionally exhausted by the collaborator's obsequiousness. "No, I have not, Senno." responded the princess tiredly. "What is it that you are so proud of anyway?"

"Well, the illustrations are naturally for the rabble, but my own flair on the new directives' text will truly put the fear of the gods into these savages."

"Wait, what directives?" inquired Kaze, having a sneaking suspicion he was already aware of the answer.

Triumphantly handing the princess a copy of a scroll, Corrine unfurled it, her expression dismayed before finally gasping in shock. "Directives for the suppression of banditry in the eastern territories." recited the disheartened princess.

Exactly as implied by the description, the directives essentially amounted to an indefinite institution of martial law, the text underscoring a series of crude illustrations of a (presumably) Hoshidan man with a conical straw hat, buck teeth, and slits for eyes engaging in some sort of offense, an arrow pointing right to another illustration indicating soldiers, obviously Nohrian ones, carrying out some sort of penalty towards the caricature, at mildest heavy public flogging or forcible amputation of limbs, but generally showing the Hoshidan caricature being executed somehow, simple beheading or hanging the mildest of the methods. A couple of the illustrations even illustrated offenses shown to be punished by the Nohrian figures surrounded by executed bodies next to a burning village.

"Yes, these are going to be going to be quite apparent, even for the dimmest of this lot." Senno bragged proudly. "And Duke Matteo is so very generous in my compensation as well! Why, he even let me help myself to what remained of the old hag's simpering little puppy dog, Yukimura's study."

"So because the people around you are about to starve, you consider yourself their better because the gluttons throw you some table scraps now and again?" inquired Azura, her eyes narrowing dangerously. "You do realize that you're on the same level for them as a horse or an ox, correct? A disposable beast of burden, nothing more."

"Tch! How rude! Princess, can you not control your woman better than this, particularly in public?!"

While aware of them on some level, Corrine was far too preoccupied and troubled by something very significant at the bottom of the scroll, even to defend her mother and lover from these slights. "This...is Leo's seal!" she said, pained disbelief dripping from her every syllable.

"Well of course, milady." Senno answered, his tone as if it were questioning her sanity. "Who else would have approved it?"

"No, I don't believe it. Leo would never approve of such pointless cruelty, let alone endorse it."

As their tome-hungry "ally" took his leave, Corrine took out her earlier frustrations on the scroll as she tore it to shreds, letting the scraps fall at her feet.

"I don't believe it." she repeated as if starting a mantra, turning to Kaze. "This is the same Leo who spared you and the dancers in Cyrkensia against Father's orders. I'm supposed to believe that he would order such butchery? No, it must be Matteo and his cohorts distorting the situation to him! So, yes Kaze, you have my permission to search for any and all information surrounding his last visit here."

The green ninja gave another short bow. "Thank you for this chance to redeem myself, milady." he said appreciatively. "I shall start on my task at once."

As Kaze vanished into the crowd, hellbent upon finding any trace of the prince's presence and activities in Hoshido over the past few months, Azura resisted the urge to sigh in exasperation, her blank stare the only indication of her troubles. Did she want to believe that this was all a horrific misunderstanding and that her stepbrother was nothing more than a pawn in the schemes of decadent, exploitative nobles to reduce millions upon millions of innocents to virtual serfdom or worse? Of course, not least of her reasons due to the relief it would cause her beloved Corrine that this conundrum could be rectified even somewhat easily. However, Azura also knew Leo to be an immensely intelligent, strong-willed and proud individual who absolutely despised the idea of others having his fate in their hands. Perhaps the tragedies of her early life had permanently burned a strong pessimistic streak into her psyche, but Azura was willing to accept the one thing about which her girlfriend was transparently in denial; that ever since Shirasagi, Leo had changed and not for the better but she knew well that she would have to do quite a bit of detective work, particularly in the most remote reaches and oldest, most decrepit tomes in Krakenburg's library for even circumstantial evidence that her hunch was steering her in the right direction.

Two-and-a-half weeks, he told himself angrily. Two-and-a-half weeks since he'd irreparably sundered one of the two relationships which provided him any real sort of comfort and grounding in his old world, thought Nohr's future king. How could he have missed that?! Sure, Corrine was always a bit...unusual, but she was unusual in a lot of ways. Apart from his own admitted ineptitude at courting, there was really only one complicating variable which he could identify, namely the stuck-up, self-important, azure-haired homewrecker the rest of the world called his stepsister, doubtlessly filling Corrine's head with all sorts of nonsense. Nonsense about the world and how it works, nonsense about (which in hindsight, turned out to be correct) their father, nonsense about him. What could she possibly have that I lack?!

No, while he'd hoped for and even successfully sought the counsel of the veteran knight Gunter on occasion and with his complete and utter mistrust (if not outright contempt) for the members of his former regency council, the deaths of Xander, Niles, Odin, and even in extreme cases, his father, left him but one option for older (presumably, judging by its voice) male guidance and advice in life, he reminded himself bitterly. The inhumanly-knowledgeable, wise entity with whom he could sit about his study or library and speak feverishly and chat into the wee hours of the morning, discussing new ideas of other worlds.

No doubt spurred on by the dragon princess' rejection of his proposal, Leo curiously enough, found himself to be like his father in another most-unexpected way, namely in his choice of self-medication. Even had he not heard the lurid tales of his father's many concubines and lived through the tail-end of the bloody consequences, it was hardly surprising that he never lacked women, be they of common or lesser-noble birth, to warm his bed and request them he did, in a nightly, vigorous effort to fill the cold, twin voids in his heart. Reasonably attractive to stunningly beautiful and from all corners of the land, in spite of their touch and his effort, none of the ladies, even had they been so interested, could manage to fill said voids inside of him; more than anything, he'd lusted for Nyx's sharp mind and her indomitable spirit and lusted after Corrine's uniquely gentle soul and kindness rather than her body. Then again, this last part about the princess was not nearly as true as he liked to tell himself at times.

Late one night however, feeling worn-out by his meetings with the nobility (Duke Toscana in particular), exhausted by his coronation rehearsals, and obsessively having poured over the information in his new tome and related notes in his study, Leo, in a henceforth-unknown-to-him moment of fatigued vulnerability, did something he had not done since he was a child, creaking open the door to his sister's bedchamber.

"Camilla...Cammy..." he whispered. "Are you still up?"

Leo received his answer rather quickly as the princess gracefully (of course!) lifted her frame from the four-poster bed, smiling softly and with no small trace of relief at her brother. "You haven't called me that in years..." she cooed. "What's wrong, baby brother? You can't sleep?"

**"No, I cannot. But more than that, I just feel so overwhelmed with everything going on. Losing Elise and Xander, becoming king, having to deal with vultures like Duke Matteo, and Corrine being- I just don't know how I'm going to deal with it! I just feel as if no one truly wants me for me! As though I'm not a worthy man in my own right, but just a substitute for Xander!"

Gods, it should be a crime for any living being to be that stunning, that beautiful, Leo thought as the princess embraced him, as if hoping to atone for months of neglect. "I don't know who it was that broke your heart, but just know one thing, baby brother." Camilla reassured softly. "You are an amazing, wonderful, strong, intelligent man, not simply because of who your brother or father are, but because of who YOU are. Any woman would be SO lucky to have you."

"A woman like you, perhaps?" said Leo thoughtlessly.

Camilla giggled. "So you do have a type after all!" she teased.

"Camilla...Cammy, I know I haven't asked this since I was a child, but can I sleep with you tonight? If it makes you uncomfortable-"

"Oh, you wound me, Brother! Of course you can!"

"Holy- That actually worked!" he thought incredulously.**

Apparently, whether by his body heat or mere presence, Leo had a calming effect upon his beloved sister's troubled mind, the princess drifting off to sleep in mere minutes, her light, dainty snores tipping off the prince. Surrounded by her embrace, titillated by that, pleasant, lilac perfume his sister loved so very much, and nestled in her bosom, for the first time in months, Leo felt genuinely serene and secure, his troubles with the Hoshidans, Matteo and his minions, and Corrine all seeming to (at least temporarily) melt into the ether. The only thing which could ruin this even momentarily was his realization of the certainty that she had held Selena in this exact matter, post-coital or not. Selena, that contemptible, disgusting bitch, he thought harshly. My sister deserves worlds better than her!

When the morning came, Leo was not especially perturbed Camilla's absence. In fact, when he got out of the bed, the prince had a newfound spring in his step, a good bit of his confidence which had withered under the pressure of the past few months. He was wonderful, strong, and amazing, he told himself proudly. Why shouldn't any woman want to be with him, let alone his queen? As he strolled through courtyard's morning mist, Leo took scarce notice of a certain scantily-dressed castle guard until he noticed her swearing to herself irritably about something or another.

"You there!" Leo said authoritatively. "What seems to be the problem? I don't think I've seen you around here before."

"Oh, it's nothing, milord!" the blonde woman protested, her tone abruptly switching to a girlish, air-headed one. "I was just transferred back to the capital about eight months ago, and a little country mouse like me still isn't quite used to the big city! Is that a problem?"

"No, not at all."

Without another word, Leo dragged the woman forward, forcefully kissing her and slipping his tongue into her mouth. The only pushback he received being the blonde leaning into the gesture, the prince began to massage her toned abdomen, teasing her with his free hand. Was this woman suitable for a consort, a queen? Of course not, Leo reminded himself. But a kept woman, good fuck to take his mind off of the nonsense he had to deal with? Of course. Meanwhile, the blonde actually found herself grateful for Leo's forcible suppression of her ecstatic moans with his mouth, her temptation to vocalize her thoughts being very great.

"Yes, a crown prince!" Charlotte thought. "Fucking score!"

Having spent the past four days staking out the pass and general area where the Nohrian general they called "the Savagekiller" had last plied his bloody trade, while it was somewhat of a remote destination, Kaze was certain that he was onto something about the prince's activities during his last visit. While any trace of the slaughter had been long since dealt with by scavengers human or beast, every so often, the green ninja noticed something peculiar, the occasional Nohrian personnel of not-insignificant rank coming and going from a certain abandoned posting near the country's border with Nohr. However, it was only after the third night during which he witnessed Duke Matteo of Toscana emerging from the facility with his bodyguards, that he became sure that there was something to the abandoned fortress. After all, had the duke not accompanied Prince Leo on his last visit to the country?

By the fifth night of his vigil, Kaze found the already-light security detachment short-staffed enough for his taste and decided it well past time to begin his infiltration. His clothing specifically designed to blend in with the forest, the ninja hugged the wall of greenery as he waited for his chance. Granted, simply judging by their posture and weaponry, Kaze could surmise that the two sentries on duty were new, conscripts probably. While he could have easily dealt with them should the need arise, unlike others, the green ninja actually did try his damnedest to practice the principles his lady preached, so it was a relief to see the one soldier drag off his fellow to gawk at some sight or another, Kaze thought as he slipped by the light of the exterior torches and into the fortress.

The outpost was a fairly standard Hoshidan design of the past few centuries. Kaze knew well that he, barring any truly radically-unexpected traps, could infiltrate such a building half-asleep. As part of his training, his brother would actually practice infiltration under the sway of assorted intoxicants, dangerously-low levels of sleep included, the ninja recalled nostalgically. But where first to look? It stood to reason that records and sleeping quarters would be on the upper floors, but there was something about the dungeons, a sort of faint-but-very-unpleasant smell unlike anything Kaze had ever encountered which eventually led him down to the dungeons.

As befitting a dungeon, the basement proved cold, dank, wet, and in fairly poor repair while still remaining usable. Nonetheless, the green ninja operated in far less comfortable confines, so he got to work discovering anything amiss, navigating with his hand to the walls and the torchlight which he took great care to avoid. After several minutes of stalking and observing the dungeon, Kaze noticed something unusual. Even after months the war, the dungeon, while not exactly bursting, was still populated by a number of individuals in quite differing degrees of healthiness, ranging from perfectly healthy (yet terrified, furious, or resigned to their fates) to those looking as if a light breeze would do them in. A good third of them were visibly Hoshidan as given away by their tattered garb and generally-darker hair and eyes, while he could not identify the remaining prisoners with a mere glance. However, a few of them were still healthy and of strong enough presence of mind to identify him.

"Well, well, if it isn't the traitor Saizo!" rasped a hard voice, belonging to a somewhat older man. "Your new masters finally get sick of your 'pet savage' act and send you to join us other animals for the slaughter?"

Kaze's heart skipped a beat as he turned to face the cell, reflexively grasping one of his blades in hand. "Wait, Toyokuni?" he inquired. "What are you doing here, the war is over!"

Rising from the floor to face Kaze, the voice's owner revealed himself as a somewhat-built man with black-brown hair some thirty years of age, the visible signs of abuse and malnutrition having added a good fifteen years to his visage. "Exactly what I said, traitor." Toyokuni remarked harshly. "We're all just beasts waiting for the slaughter; something your friends let us know each and every day. Yeah, it's not much of a life, but at least it usually doesn't last that long."

"This must be a mistake! The war is over! These must be criminals of some sort. I'm sure if Prince Leo knew, such treatment would-"

"Oh, wake the fuck up, Greenie! See a lot hardened criminals here? How much danger to society can underweight, half-starved women and children be to the mighty, courageous Nohrian army anyway? If anything, your new buddies are far more a danger to them. And speaking of which, even if there were any Nohrian broads crazy enough to wander around these parts, do really think any of us men who even looked at her would live long enough to be put in here?"

"Alright! You've made your point! Look, I know you never liked me, even when we were children, but there is something very odd going on in this ruin and I suspect Nohr's prince may have some involvement! It is a matter of life and death, I assure you!"

The imprisoned ninja's expression turned pensive and troubled. "Something weird going on, you say?" resumed Toyokuni, his tone noticeably softer. "It's common knowledge around here that some fucked-up things are going on. No one can say exactly what they are, just that they can't be anything good."

"Oh, gods." Kaze remarked apprehensively. "Do you have any ideas yourself?"

"No clue. Just that when they come to take you from your cell, you don't come back. Ever. The pleading and pained screams coming either from this floor or upstairs make it obvious that it's nothing fun. Did you notice that sick, coppery smell when you came down here? Like what I imagine poisoned blood to smell like, just a lot more pungent."

"Of course, how could I not?"

"It doesn't smell like anything that belongs inside any kind of living thing, let alone a human being. I'm sure whatever this shit is is related to how those people are being tortured here, but it's just conjecture on my part."

"And Prince Leo?"

"You think the likes of him would slum around down here? No, you'd have more luck trying to find out about that creepy, greasy little bent-over fuck who runs this place. Never got his name, something that started with a 'Ko-' sound, but you'll notice him if you come across him. He supposedly has your prince's ear, but he may just have been rambling."

"Thank you, Toyokuni, you've been very helpful. Is that all that comes to mind?"

"Actually, a few months back, I heard the sick fuck and one of the Nohrian bigshots, some kind of noble or another, bringing a woman down here, said sick fuck referring to her as his 'masterpiece.' Around here, the sounds of someone being tortured are little more than background noise, but that woman's screams sounded really familiar for some reason. I KNOW I've heard her voice before, I just can't place it."

"Is she still here?"

"You can look, but I wouldn't count on it. Instead, try the-"

The sounds of shoes clapping against the stone steps to the dungeon and several voices (most notably, one of them being unusually-simpering and nasally) broke the dim silence. "And speaking of the devils." said Toyokuni exasperatedly. "Unless you want to actually join us in here, I'd make myself scarce if I were you. Not even the 'pet savage' act will save you if you get caught in here!"

"Understood." Kaze replied, giving a light bow. "Thank you for the information, my good man."

"Fuck you too, traitor!"

Vanishing into the shadows as the voices grew stronger, Kaze could not call the mission a failure, but would not exactly call it a success either. True, he had come very close to discovering some extremely questionable things done with the blessing or tacit approval of the highest echelons in Windmire (not exactly a new thing), but he'd failed to ascertain whether or not Leo was somehow involved in the goings on, let alone directing them. Further investigation of the man Toyokuni so abusively (but aptly if his suspicions were correct) termed was absolutely imperative, Kaze told himself, and that, Lady Corrine would be interested for sure.

"Another job well done." thought Pietro smugly as he witnessed the Hoshidan town he'd ordered destroyed burning in the distance, his troops no doubt getting their blades, lances, and axes warmed up for the main attraction. Ever since the very start of his military career, he'd always loved his job of cutting down savages and why not? His country needed his skills and he was damned good at it. Be they from the Ice Tribe, the Wind, or the mangy pack on Mount Garou, he and his custom-forged Flame Lance had earned accolades from the Nohrian public and even King Garon more often than not for some twenty-five years now, he had fought the savages wherever he'd been so ordered and relished doing so.

Peeking from behind one of the tent's flaps, a staff officer piped up gingerly, as if not to wake some great, aggressive legendary beast. "Sir Pietro." he began, peeking his head from behind the flap. "Some of the subcommanders were wondering about any potential alterations to the battle plan. Not that I have a problem with them, of course, but since the scouts are reporting the savages look to be using a town called Mizusawa to our northeast as a stronghold and-"

The paladin snorted with derision. "What's there to change?" he remarked arrogantly. "A standard cavalry charge will be more than enough to crush these bugs. If it's truly so dangerous, the armor and wyverns will clean up any remaining resistance."

"Yes, of course, sir. Brilliant, as always!"

Pietro had grown quite used to brown-nosing subordinates seeking either some sort of advancement or (as was more likely) to save their own skins from his temper. They were replaceable, he was not and everyone from the prince-regent down knew it. But the one thing he had not and could never grow used to was the Hoshidan savages actually having the gall to see themselves as equals to Nohr! Oh, yes, just like this and every other engagement during the war, he looked forward greatly to the day when these heathens would be so cowed and subdued that even the most hot-headed among this pack of cattle would never again have the temerity to look at even a Nohrian beggar cross-eyed.

Outside the town hall of the now-virtually-deserted town of Mizusawa, in the dead of night, Lord Tomokane, surrounded by his war council, reviewed the map of the area and associated figurines indicative of the Nohrian situation and their own grimly. The enemy had deployed three legions from their occupying armies to lay waste to Mutsu and end the resistance in "their" lands once and for all. The forces he'd amassed, while considerable and adequately trained and equipped, were far from enough to inflict a decisive defeat against the occupiers, let alone drive them from Hoshido altogether. "You there!" he said finally to the quartermaster. "What does our material situation look like?"

The quartermaster sighed. "In addition to the men, all of them decently-equipped, we have twenty horses, thirty-one pegasi, three ballistae, and enough food and water to hold out for a week if all goes well." he reported. "Worst case scenario, we could be out in two or three days."

"That'll be all. Dismissed."

At this report, the other lords began to chatter among themselves apprehensively; now aware of just how desperate their desperate situation truly was. "Well, what now, Tomokane?" inquired Lord Hirakata of Dewa. "If you seriously believe we can push them back like this, you've lost your mind."

"You really think I wasn't aware of that?!" Tomokane shot back. "I don't know about you gentlemen, but I volunteered for this fully ready and willing to die to protect my country, my people, and my family. No, we 'win' here by inflicting enough damage on the bastards that our people can live to fight another day and minimize the damage they do to the north."

"And how do you propose we do that. Lord Mutsu?" asked Lord Terumono of Shimotsuke, sounding somewhat more heartened. "My spearmen are good, but not good enough to make up a five-to-one numerical inferiority."

"It's fairly simple once you break it down."

Tomokane grouped the blue figurines into a roughly square-shaped formation around the outline of the town, the bulk of the spearmen placed toward the southern and western flanks, defending the archers placed behind them. "This butcher the Nohrians call 'Savagekiller' was trained as a cavalry commander, no?" he began, motioning some of the red figurines as to mimic a charge on the town. "Therefore, it stands to reason that he'll go with what he knows and try to break our lines with several waves of cavalry charges. It is absolutely imperative that they hold as long as possible."

"So we blunt their charges with our spearmen!" said Lord Kamatari of Echigo exclaimed in much the same manner as a child cracking a particularly difficult problem. "And the archers and balistae whittle their cavalry down as much as possible!"

"Exactly, Kamatari. Since the mountains behind us block any easy land approaches, the archers to the north will only have to deal with wyverns knowing our enemy. With a ballista turned their direction, they should be able to handle most of it. Meanwhile, the swordsmen, including myself, will deal with any breaches in our lines and protect the archers. It will only let us break out if we're extremely fortunate, but it will let us inflict one hell of a black eye against them."

The other lords' murmurs indicated somewhat more confidence in their odds now that a man of Tomokane's known tactical acumen had articulated a plan. On some level or another, the men all knew this to be a suicide mission, but the brutality meted out to them by Nohr deserved such a spectacular response. With this in mind, the air around the men became significantly less apprehensive. Of course they were all aware that they were going to die, some of them more horrifically than others, but their commander had given them heart, that this would be more of a last stand and less of a culling of the animals their enemy saw them as.

"If any of you want to leave now, I'm not going to execute you for desertion." Tomokane prefaced hardly. "But if you want to go out defending your families and your homeland while showing these Nohrian bastards what we northerners are made of, then you've come to the right place!"

Contrary to his expectations, none of the five lords crowded around the table departed, but responded to his appeal with sustained shouts of enthusiasm and defiance towards Nohr and its prince-regent. He'd always been said to be unusually charismatic, but this surprised him. Dismissing the lords to prepare and motivate their own troops for the inevitable clash, Tomokane motioned for one of the pegasus knights, a young lady not much older than Hana, handing her four letters.

"Tsukiyama, your unit must get at least one of these messages to my nephew and sister as soon as possible." the lord informed urgently. "It is more vital than either of our lives, do you understand this?"

The young woman nodded. "Yes, sir!" she confirmed. "We'll guard them with our lives!"

"Excellent! But you musn't return to this place. If I've not sent word by a week from tomorrow morning, expect the worst and know that Takeshi is now Lord of Mutsu and your commander. Contrary to popular belief, I'm still just a regent. Oh, and one more thing."

Tomokane produced a string of four vials of a violet, sickly-looking liquid. "For if either you or any of your women get shot down by Nohr." he informed grimly. "I've heard not even the gods themselves could have concocted something fouler-tasting, but you won't suffer at the very least."

"Of course." Tsukiyama replied knowingly, her tone mirroring that of her superior. "It's not like we would risk capture by those bastards anyway."

"There!" Hana exclaimed proudly as she lifted the last bundle onto a horse-drawn cart. "That's the last of it, Mother!"

Akiko smiled sadly, embracing her daughter. "Stay safe now, dear." she instructed wistfully.

"I could say the same to you, Mother! I know it's barely been a month and I'm already leaving you all again-"

"Oh, don't worry about this old girl, Hana. Go, do what you need to do and protect the princess."

The evening's chilly autumn air was already slightly colder than usual, prompting Hana to rearrange one of the spare blades under her coat as an excuse to free her dominant hand from the cold. How could she not be nervous? The swordswoman knew damn well what would happen to her hometown and family if the Nohrian forces intercepted them, let alone under the command of a general whose brutality and relish of slaughtering "savages" like them was likely rivaled only by Hans. Managing a confident smile for her liege, Hana exhaled with particular exasperation. True, it did not feel good at all leaving her family, her mother particularly, as scurrying refugees in their own homeland, but on every level of her being she knew, only to be reminded by the grateful, adoring gaze the redheaded princess reserved for her; Sakura and her safety came first. All she could do for her part was to trust Takeshi and his men to keep the northern routes free of Nohrians, bandits, and Nohrian bandits and her uncle and his men to defend Mizusawa with everything they have and give them all time to escape Nohr's wrath.

"By the way, Hana, there's something I've been meaning to give you for an emergency and I believe this qualifies." said Akiko, removing a bundle of gold from the satchel on her shoulder. "Your inheritance."

Taking the sack of gold in her hand, Hana recoiled slightly. "Mother, I can't accept this." she protested. "There must be around fifty thousand gold in here!"

"Technically, it's eighty thousand. And I insist you take it. I've already given Takeshi his half and you'll both need it far more than I will."

"Just between us, Mother. I actually hadn't given this much thought; I just always thought I'd off some Nohrian commander and take his if we really needed the gold. He almost certainly stole it anyway."

Normally, the older woman would have been horrified by such an admission from her daughter, but the accumulated stress of the situation prompted Akiko to simply giggle proudly at this suggestion. Inching forward for one last embrace, mother and daughter both took notice of the sudden fireworks display over the province, the shell scattering red fragments across the night sky.

"The signal!" Akiko exclaimed, hugging Hana briefly. "Good luck and stay safe!"

With these words, one of the guards, a swordsman from Takeshi's unit helped her onto the the cart, the driver urging his oxen onward with a crack of his whip.

Her mother's caravan shortly vanishing beyond the horizon, Hana turned to her two companions to start their own journey.

"So where exactly is the Flame Tribe's main village?" she inquired. "I know it's way south from here, but apart from that, I've got no idea."

"Near a mountain range at the southern end of the Bottomless Canyon." answered Rinkah, the pride at her people's tenacity apparent. "I can't describe it that well, but once we're in the area, I'll take it from there."

"So if we stay near the canyon's general area, we should be fine, right?" inquired Sakura, somewhat more spiritedly than usual.

Rinkah nodded. "Exactly." she confirmed. "I don't feel great about being slowed down by the forests, but sticking to the main roads would mean certain death."

"Keep in mind that their cavalry they're so proud of and their armor will both be almost worthless if the woods are dense enough." Hana reminded, her tone almost hungry in a sense. "Leave THAT to me. The Nohrian habit of advancing in small groups for maximum mobility actually works to our advantage more than anyone else."

To a man, the defenders of the now-deserted town of Mizusawa expressed some expression of latent nervous energy, be it toying with their weapons slightly, being unusually alert for anything living thing piercing the night's unnatural calm, or simply fidgeting. How could they not be? A last stand against a better-equipped foe vastly outnumbering them upon which the lives of their nearly all of their friends and families depended is never something one goes into without significant tension. Even their commander, renowned as a loyal samurai and fierce warrior, even in his advanced age, nervously twirled one of his late brother-in-law's most cherished blades, perhaps as one last, unconscious training regimen before the white-hot fury of Nohr, of its vengeful prince, inevitably rained down on them.

Only having been in their encampment for two weeks, while it went mostly unspoken, there was an undeniable air to the town not unlike a pack of condemned criminals awaiting their particularly gruesome executions. Perhaps because the comparison surmised the defenders' situation at in the town perfectly; there was to be no retreat, no surrender. They all knew fully well that no quarter would be given nor received, but neither would it be asked for, for any quarter of the sort would be the very same offered to slaves.

Finally, as their general completed the hundredth revolution of his blade, the telltale sound of a distant mass of galloping hooves shattered the night's calm, particularly from the south. "They're here!" exclaimed Tomokane, tossing his sheath to the ground. "Make one last check of your equipment!"

The torch on the watchtower immediately to the general's south lit up, followed shortly thereafter by its counterparts at pre-selected points across town. As the ghost town roared to life with the meticulously rehearsed actions of the defenders, it would not be an exaggeration to say the Battle of Mizusawa was now in full swing and the spearmen on the southern flank would not have to wait long for their part in the action. Barely a minute after becoming audible, the first wave of Nohrian cavalry descended upon the southern flank. Lightly-to-moderately-armored, the cavalrymen shouted and whooped with their lances and blades held high, a wall of man, beast, and metal.

Having been in their position himself more than once, Tomokane read the minds of the men facing down the horde. "Don't break, don't break! DON'T BREAK!" he demanded. "That's exactly what they're counting on!"

Abruptly, as the mass of steel and flesh closed in to draw first blood, the Nohrian line shattered on the Hoshidan spears; some of the beasts were impaled, done in on the enemy's wall of pointed metal, some were wounded to varying degrees of severity as they made panicked attempts to escape the carnage. Others simply refused to charge into certain death, more often than not tossing their less-skilled riders from their saddles. The survivors of the charge still in any condition to fight made another attempt to breach the wall of spearpoints on foot, a few eventually managing to break through in a vain attempt to reach the archers. From these attempts, Tomokane and his swordsmen took their cue to engage, shortly cutting down the exhausted and dismounted horsemen.

With the other melee fighters having swept up the encroaching knights, the back lines broke into celebration around the repulsed Nohrian charge.

"We shouldn't get too comfortable yet!" cautioned one of the archers, well-aware that another charge was imminent. "They're making another pass!"

"Exactly!" barked Terumono. "Once more!"

Exactly as they'd rehearsed for, the Nohrian cavalry charged once more, hoping to overwhelm their lines with sheer force and speed and once more, man and beast fell namelessly against the spearpoints as they broke into a disorganized retreat, this time pursued and cut down by spearman and swordsman alike as they futilely attempted to regroup and staunch the hemorrhaging in their cavalry line. The next hour bought three more cavalry charges against the southern flank, the last of which only marginally more successful due to the deployment of heavy armored knights, but casualties still remained better than their pre-battle prognoses. The news bought to Tomokane from the runners left him somewhat more cautiously optimistic as well. To the east, the Nohrians had the idea of supporting another charge with their wyverns which Lord Echigo's archers had inflicted devastating losses upon on two separate occasions. To the west, the Nohrian effort was severely hampered by the hills and the use of a few well-timed-and-placed ballista bolts throwing their lines into chaos, even taking out a unit commander or two.

With the cavalry charges abating, any tactician worth their salt knew that a change in tactics from one's preferred methods signaled either desperation, recognition of their ineffectiveness, or a complete lack of options. Nonetheless, as the first hail of Nohrian arrows descended upon the spearmen of the south flank, Tomokane knew that this change in tactics could either turn for them or against them very quickly. Some men struggled to raise their shields in time and succumbed, while others narrowly avoided death, shielding both themselves and their comrades from the deadly rain.

Having endured a second volley of Nohrian arrows, the rear line of northern spearmen carried off their dead and wounded prepared to defend against another cavalry charge. Even with all the carnage around him, Tomokane gave a satisfied smirk as two fireworks lit up the Nohrian archers' positions in the southern skies, the slowly-descending airborne fragments illuminating the target areas for the ballistae and catapults.

Over the tumult of the battle, one of the bloodied scouts dismounted his winged steed, almost tripping over himself to address his superiors.

"We've been ambushed by axemen in the southwestern woods!" the pegasus knight warned. "Scores of them! I think they're trying to outflank us!"

"Calm down, man!" demanded Terumono, placing the spear on his back in favor of his blade. "What are your losses like?"

"I'm the only survivor, sirs!"

The regent of Mutsu cursed to himself as he strapped some satchels of the old medicinal solutions to his belt. An ambush of powerful Nohrian axe-wielders now could very well throw the entire southern flank into complete chaos. "Kagemusha, Hagiwara, Hiraoka!" demanded Tomokane of his three officers. "Gather your best men and blades! Be back here in two minutes!"

As the three officers dutifully vocalized their understanding of the order and scattered, the other lord looked at his comrade in disbelief. "You're not actually going to lead them yourselves, are you?" inquired Teramoto.

"All men die someday." Tomokane reminded him steelily. "Better to do so on your own terms and take as many of the bastards with you as possible. Besides, even though I'm not as quick as I used to be, I'm still a better swordsman than almost all of these whelps."

Generally a man of comfortable-yet-not-extravagant tastes, one of the few creature comforts Pietro allowed himself on campaign was a leisurely breakfast every morning. Even a man as powerful as him needed a decent start to his day to function at his best after all. But when the general was to receive word about what he assumed to be the conclusion of a well-executed campaign, his leisurely breakfast became anything but, particularly for the poor bastard assigned to his staff.

"Ah, greetings, Levaux." he said, uncharacteristically pleasantly. "I trust you have some dead savages to report on?"

Levaux's entire being, particularly his face, visibly betrayed a sense of existential dread. "Yes, sir, there were plenty of enemy casualties."

"You sound as though you're not telling me something. What's truly the worst it could be?"

Much in the same fashion one hands the world's largest steak to a starving bear while covered in bacon grease, the staff officer handed over the latest situation report from the front. The paladin seemed somewhat underwhelmed, but generally satisfied with the estimates of the Hoshidan casualties. However, reaching the the estimates of their own losses caused him to reflexively spit the lemon he was eating a good distance away.

"What in the gods' name is this!?" he said incredulously. "This must be a mistake! HOW can our losses be this high?!"

"We- we- well-" stammered Levaux, teeth audibly chattering. "Sir, you- you- said that a standard c- cavalry charge would s- suffice!"

"AND?!"

"Our archers, w-wyverns, and cav- cavalry are taking more- Oh, please, Sir Pietro, I beg of you! Have mercy! I've a wife and children! I'm all they have!"

"Oh, please you simpering coward! Killing you would be far too wasteful, even were I so inclined. By the way, you were trained as a horseman as well, correct?"

"Y-yes, sir."

"Alright then."

Picking up the fiery spear which never left his side, Pietro casually took several paces forward before stabbing the man through right shin with all his might, a second thereafter triggering the weapon's magic, rendering the staff officer's screams audible throughout most of the camp. Stopping the minor conflagration and removing the weapon after a few seconds more of this torture, Levaux's right leg from the knee down was left a withered, mangled shell of its former self, the paladin driving his steel-toed boot into the man's stomach repeatedly. "Go on! Get out of here! Tell them to ready my horse!" he demanded. "It looks like it's up to me to clean up the mess you idiots have made!"

"A- at once, sir!" whined the officer as he began to crawl towards the camp, his voice unnaturally high with pain.

After kicking the man several more times to give him a boost towards the other officers, the paladin growled with frustration. If you want something done right, you really do have to do it yourself, he thought angrily. But that shouldn't mean that has to extend to even a most rudimentary task like killing savages! As far as Pietro was concerned, any Nohrian boy old enough to hold a weapon was old enough to do so and do it proudly.

In the hours after the failed nighttime charges, the defenders of Mizusawa continued to inflict disproportionate casualties on the occupiers as pikemen, axeman, and wyvern alike fell namelessly throughout the morning. While noticeably more difficult to do so, the northerners even managed to mostly hold their lines against the Nohrian heavy knights and cavalry through the afternoon and night, but not without significant casualties.

However, by the end of the battle's second night, the tide was clearly beginning to turn in favor of Nohr. Against the expectations of all the Hoshidan commanders, the enemy made a renewed effort with their wyvern-mounted troops to break through their lines, entire units of the riders being sent on virtual suicide missions to damage and destroy the ballistae and any archers within their grasp. While Kamatari was among the fallen archers, the western flank managed to stabilize itself after being pushed back into the town at around one that morning. With forces drawn from the eastern flank to put out the figurative and literal fires set by Nohr, by sunrise, said flank had all but collapsed and its commander Hirakata burned to death in a cluster of houses alongside ten of his men; now all that remained for the survivors were increasingly futile attempts to patch their devastated line or join their comrades in the south and west and pray for relief.

Yes, as their numbers dwindled further, the defenders of what remained of Mizusawa fought with ever-increasing ferocity and desperation, realizing to a man that there was no escape nor victory by this point; the only 'victory' being to inflict as much damage on the occupier as humanly possible. But as their defensive ring grew ever smaller, their losses growing, and with more and more Nohrian forces bearing down upon them, something even more extraordinary came to pass thanks to the Nohrian commander as his troops made way for his stallion.

"Keeping those weapons raised will be the last mistake you ever make, heathens." spat the commander arrogantly. "I am Pietro! The greatest living Nohrian general! Who commands this pack of bandits?!"

Due either to fatigue, desperation, optimism, or some toxic, inexplicable mixture of both, Tomokane motioned for what remained of his battered, but still defiant forces to lower their weapons. If this was going where he expected it to, while they would not be able to defeat them by any means, he was reasonably certain he could deprive Nohr of one of its most admittedly-skilled and most influential generals.***"I am the man you seek, butcher!" he declared. "Tomokane of Mutsu, whose courageous and selfless men inflicted the greatest defeat on your wretched empire since the battle at Castle Shirasagi!"

This defiance elicited a combination of outraged, surprised, and even fearful reactions from the soldiers protecting the general, prompting them back with a raised hand, the paladin merely sneering at his opposite number. "Well, you savages are known for your arrogance, after all, but even you lot can appreciate the sanctity of a duel." he snarled. "I propose a trial by single combat, nary an ounce of our strength held back! Since I am a man of honor, if I should fall, my troops shall fall back to met you another day on the battlefield!"

"Very well, I accept."

The Hoshidan survivors chattered among themselves confusedly as their surviving commanders conversed. "Hold on!" Teramono whispered urgently. "You can't seriously be considering this?!"

"Like I said earlier, we're going to die anyway." Tomokane reminded grimly. "This way, I can at least do some real damage to Nohr before I do."

Pietro flashed a hungry, sinister grin. Why would he ever entertain honoring any agreement made with beasts like them? It was no different than hunting with birdcalls as far as he was concerned. This way at least, he could finally see some action. The two generals facing off at a fifteen-meter distance, the paladin set his steed into a gallop sending two bursts of flame with his lance as he closed in on the old man. Tomokane for his part, age having mostly shorn him of his legendary reaction time, watched the trajectory of the Nohrian's attacks and steed, deftly avoiding his intended incineration. With Pietro on top of him in mere seconds, Tomokane took the chance to sidestep an impaling attack and removed the steed's head with one upward diagonal slash, sending his foe tumbling from the beast's body.

After stabilizing himself from the fall, there was a flicker of desperation in the Nohrian general's eyes as he realized the blood seeping from the abdominal gash on his armor belonged to him as opposed to his fallen mount. As he struggled to his feet, Pietro launched three more of the bursts of flame; as they were noticeably less disciplined than those he had shot from horseback, his counterpart dodged them handily as he closed in with his blade. After the seconds which seemed to take an age, Pietro staggered to his feet just in time to avoid the vertical slash aimed at him and engaged the Hoshidan in a clash of mutual slashes, thrusts, and parries.

As the Nohrian general was being pushed back, his abdominal wound still gaping, the observers had worried-slash-hoped that he would succumb either to the blood loss or his foe's blade in fairly short order. Nonetheless, Pietro, utilizing his noticeable advantage in reach during another clash, took the opportunity to use the grip as a blunt weapon to momentarily stun Tomokane before impaling him through the chest cavity, his desperate expression turning proud once more as he eyed his latest victim hatefully. The Hoshidan commander however, could not muster the breath to defy him with last words of his own.

"Hana...Takeshi..." he thought. "I'm so proud... of the both of you...I'll be sure to tell your father all about you...when I see him..."

***The hateful expression on the face of the "Savagekiller" turned absolutely ravenous as he activated the weapon's magic, treating his opponent to a protracted, tortuous death before he finally removed the weapon half a minute later and collapsed to his knees, attempting to staunch the bleeding with one of his gauntlets.

"Sir Pietro is wounded!" cried one of his staff officers. "Get a healer over here, now!"

The staff officer began to strip off the general's chest plate over his superior's incensed mutterings and cursing to himself. "Stupid animal!" he raged. "If I had my best steed, I would have roasted that obnoxious old goat without a scratch on me!"

"Sir, please." insisted the officer, his eyes widening momentarily at the amount of blood loss as he began to cut his undershirt away. "You must calm down! A healer will be here momentarily, but in the meantime-"

"Sir Pietro." interrupted a second staff officer. "There is still the matter of the enemy survivors. They are completely surrounded by our troops, but-"

"What do the fuck do you think your orders are?!" Pietro ranted. "Slaughter them all like the fucking beasts they are!"