Watching the Prime Minister's entourage leave the battlefield with the emperor from afar, Liver of the Three Beasts could already infer what must have been going through that incorrigible fat ass's mind.
'
Escort the child emperor away from the true reality of the country.'
'Kill the threat to power.'
'Lastly, to eliminate any future variables.'
It was such a simple deduction that it was hardly worth praise for the effort. Granted, it wasn't hard to infer the motivations and aspirations of corrupt men and women in Liver's background as a prominent military man. However, it only further cemented his beliefs and assumptions that this dishonest world would forever be mired in conspiracy, betrayal, and loathing…the very same injustice and mistreatment that befell him and his company of soldiers, leading to death or imprisonment.
Almost certainly, that familiar pang of disappointment assailed Liver from deep within, but he'd long since grown numb to it all. Sometimes it was both easier and simpler to just feign ignorance to the man that once existed as an army general loyal to the Empire he believed in. One with brilliant records, feats, and achievements for the betterment of the citizens and fellow soldiers he was sworn to protect.
Then, Honest came into power.
Unbidden, memories of the past came to mind of bribes, stubborn pride, nationality, and loyalty, then bitter exile left to rot in a dingy prison cell.
There was no shadow of a doubt how Liver felt regarding Prime Minster Honest and his twisted works and ideologies, but the very person who saved him from deteriorating behind bars, lauded him for his past victories, and provided him political backing tolerated the Prime Minister. Of course, Liver knew that this had nothing to do with Honest's sway over his general, but simply because even Honest could not contain his general. This was part of the reason he respected his general so much, and even agreed to the notion of being saved and working so devoutly under someone else.
His general was a leader of her own.
Honest could not control her, but could only allow her to do as she pleased. This in a way meant that his general preferred Honest to stay in power lest someone more 'upstanding' tried to interfere in her matters. Hence the reason for his general's continued cooperation with Honest in an almost unsaid agreement.
Any real hope for the Empire to better itself from its decline died from within Liver at the realization, but it didn't mean he was without motivation. He owed his general his life for the debt she'd granted to him. So long as it was his general's will, he would follow through even if that meant aligning himself with the very fat bastard who framed and got him court-marshalled in the first place.
Oh, the irony. None of it was lost on Liver, but neither did his opinion change.
With Honest making an expected retreat to evacuate the child emperor away from the sight of atrocities, his honour guard followed closely behind. This included Liver's own general who was both an honorary member and the strongest member. However, deviations occurred without warning given the tendency of his general to act on her own principles.
Liver raised a brow as he spotted the figure of his general parting away from Honest's entourage a distance away from Kalance plains and uncharacteristically spectating from afar rather than participate. Then again, his general wouldn't participate in anything beneath her notice. If so, why did she stay just to watch?
Did his general gain a vested interest in this short skirmish?
Liver with Nyau and Daidara were in charge of a detachment unit from his general's army formerly stationed to combat the Revolutionary forces in the north, but had since left the main army to participate in this hasty impromptu formal war declaration.
There was nothing grand about any of this, really. As much as Lier tried to discern what was going through his general's mind, he couldn't perceive the notion of this battle leading to anything else but futility.
'So why was his general smiling so fervently at this farce's main actor?'
Lips thinning, Liver straightened his posture and clasped his hands behind his back before returning his attention back to the current proceedings.
Now that Honest had removed the child emperor from the equation, Honest's paid generals in the Empire army had immediately encircled the rather tiny force gathered by another legitimate heir to the Empire; one that obviously wasn't disillusioned to the Empire's current state and sought to rectify it.
Shirou, was the name Nyau had stated in the reports about the child emperor's older and certainly sterner relative. This coupled with the strength of the Teigu Shirou was reported to wield had lit an old ember within Liver's heart.
Could it be possible…?
Can it really happen…?
That kind of world and place forever beyond reach…?
"Shirou of Calla is a ruler adored by the masses and those that follow him," Nyau's own retelling of his espionage report began to play out within Liver's head.
"It's not an exaggeration to say that many in Calla would trade their lives for his without hesitation. This isn't without reason either. He…seems to actually care about those he governs, and actively takes steps to lead them towards a prosperous future. For the sake of lodging and security, he personally hunted what were likely special class Danger Beasts bordering too close to Calla's walls. In every sense of the word, he's an idealist, one that puts the priority of others before himself."
"A King of the People," Liver muttered out the final words of Nyau's analysis.
A just ruler.
Liver could hear the heavy beating of his heart hammering within his ears, and cold sweat perspiring across his brow as old aspirations warred with present loyalties. He stared blankly at Calla's paltry numbers in comparison to the Empire's army and thoroughly restrained himself.
'What a fool.' Liver couldn't help but inwardly comment.
Nyau had disclosed the lethality of Shirou's Teigu, but a ranged Teigu was only truly effective and deadly when used properly. How could it be possible for a bow user to not be vulnerable in the middle of an open field?
Honour? Righteousness? Integrity? None of that mattered in battle.
Yet why then could Liver feel traces of admiration for such foolish bravery and illogical action stir from within him?
The apathy that plagued Liver's hardened and numb sense of morality shuddered something fierce in this moment.
'Let this be the end of it all,' Liver disparaged, hands balling into fists in confliction. 'Your loyalty is to the general. So don't look, don't think, just act as your dictated. NONE of this will amount to anything in the end anyway.'
The cruelest torture was to give a despairing man even the feeblest bit of hope.
Shaking his head, Liver hardened his resolve.
With the Empire's numbers, an all-out assault was surely to commence within mere moments.
Shirou, Calla, and her allies stood no chance at victory here. The outcome was set from the start. Formal as this declaration of war was, Honest was nothing if not crooked and thorough.
So then, where was the despair in Shirou's eyes?
For all his attempts at reading the newest legitimate heir to the Empire, Liver couldn't spot a shred of panic or unease in Shirou's demeanor. Instead, Liver could only watch in vapid fascination as Shirou took center stage of his gathered forces and stared down the Empire army.
Was that a sword in hand?
"Nyau, this wasn't in your report," Liver frowned glancing to his left where Nyau stood alongside Daidara. "Didn't you say that he used a bow-type Teigu?"
Nyau chocked out a response, confusion and disbelief warring within him as his mouth opened and closed. "H-He did. I swear," he grimaced. "He must have switched Teigu's or something."
"You say that as if doing so is easy. Wielders do not choose their Teigu, the Teigu chooses its wielder. I also suppose that it's another unrecorded Teigu not accounted for by the Empire's records. Another lost unknown in the divisive war of the past?"
Nyau dared not answer, still reeling for his apparent failure to have gathered sufficient intelligence before retreating in his infiltration into Calla. The discovery of Shirou's heritage may have had a lot to do with his hasty retreat, but that was just an excuse.
"Sorry, Captain," Nyau could only sigh.
"See to it that it doesn't happen again, and take this lesson to heart." Liver merely nodded before turning his gaze back ahead of him. "A bow or a sword-type Teigu, what difference could it make in this kind of warfare and ba-"
The words died in Liver's throat, coming out as nothing more than a croak.
Shimmers, golden and pure, manifested all at once, reflecting off of glittering motes of light no bigger than grains of sand. Like snow they danced and twinkled upon the edge of twilight, appearing all around in an encapsulating luster and gentle heat.
The aspirations and dreams buried deep within by the darkness of a tainted world were laid bare in the glow.
Liver found himself swallowing, incomparably taken in by the inexplicable sight of what he'd long since thought he'd abandoned. Shame welled up from his heart; doubt arose in his mind.
The light spoke to him, bathed him in his splendor and radiance as it did to all present. The secrets of their hearts and characters couldn't be hidden in its light; no truth unanswered or unjudged.
The wickedness from within felt only dread, yet stronger than even that was the brilliance threatening to spill out. The light spoke of home, of purpose, of meaning in an era fraught with violence and hardship.
What was your dream? What had you once fought for? What was the point of your prior achievements?
-When had even hope been snuffed out in the despair?
It was a light of reflection, causing even the most hardened killers steepled in the corpses of their sins to take heed of what they'd lost and what mattered.
"This light, this distant prayer…" The words escaped Liver's lips unbidden before his gaze focused at the center of it all and the sword that he wielded unlike any Teigu before. If a Teigu chose its owner, then a Teigu such as this sword held in Shirou's hands spoke clearly without words regarding this Emperor's character, integrity, and morals.
"A True Emperor," Liver visibly wilted, shortness of breath causing a pained grimace to mar his features.
"The Revolutionaries are enthralled." Daidara commented mutedly.
"The army generals are panicking," Nyau supplied in contrast, features dim.
Liver said not a word as the panicked Empire generals ordered to open fire. Yet bullets and steel were met again by the unexplained. An iridescent shield, a symbol of a petalled flower of all things manifested to protect those in harm's way.
"Flowers will bloom upon this land of plenty such that all who see it will know of the Empire's prosperity and grace..." Liver recounted the founding words of the First Emperor.
"Imperial Arms will safeguard our Empire. My shield to stretch upon my people, my sword to pave the way…" Daidara continued.
"The missing Teigu of the Empire- that shield and sword…" Nyau's eyes widened, but it would seem that he wasn't the only one to arrive at a sudden conjecture. The Empire's highest military officials and politicians all inwardly shuddered in alarm.
Silence ensued at the implication, none speaking until the results of inaction became clear in Nyau, Liver, and Daidara's minds.
"If we don't act now, the Empire's advanced guard are going to be wiped out and the encirclement broken," Nyau muttered uneasily. "Liver? Captain, your orders?"
"…"
For the first time since his emancipation, Liver stood rooted from an age-old adage he'd long since believed he'd discarded, his mouth dry and throat parched.
Old dreams, die hard.
/-/
F
rom the moment Shirou had first given the order to charge, he hadn't quite realized the impact he had on the opposing side. Then again, it was kind of difficult to the expression of your enemies when you were being fired upon and forced to defend your entire crew.
It was only now that he was charging forward using Saber's experiences in warfare with shield and sword in hand that he noticed a distinct reaction from the Empire's forces. The droning of bullets and steel clanging against Rho Aias to kill him and his allies hadn't changed, but the air around the Empire's forces did.
A few looked stunned, absentminded even, and then there was the overwhelming majority stricken with panic and disbelief especially among the army's upper echelons.
Seeing another hail of attack incoming, he rotated his shield arm, and the eight-petalled projected flower of Rho Aias shifted in accordance, the petals unfurling and dancing in the ensuing breeze.
"Focus on the long-range units!" Bulat's voice advised from somewhere behind him through the chaos and adrenaline pumping through all their veins.
Shirou couldn't locate just where exactly Bulat was at in the sheer number of comrades behind him, but it didn't matter much considering he knew that Bulat was a former military solider. His words were sound. The sooner the archers and riflemen were dealt with, the sooner he could stop the consumption of maintaining his shield.
The others roared in ascent, charging alongside him in the direction of the heaviest number of ranged soldiers. From the backline, intermittent flashes of light signalled Mine and Najenda's participation from afar.
Dozens fell, likely dead as no one in Calla and its allies were ignorant enough to show mercy on the battlefield, but all this death, this familiar setting of a battlefield, all of it was grounds for bitter memories.
'Harden your heart.'
He'd told himself this before. Just as his experience could allow him to be level-headed in the most stressful of times, it enabled him to know what must be done. And yet…
Why weren't they fighting back?
It wasn't true for everyone, but ever since the beginning, the rate of fire hitting Rho Aias had been steadily declining without correlation to casualty figures.
With Reinforcement magecraft coursing through his body, Shirou could see further than anyone else. The snipers and long-range units Najenda, Mine, and the others were aiming for didn't stop firing because they were reloading, they stopped firing because they'd lost the will to fight. They just stood there, leaving themselves open to enemy fire in a daze.
Unlike himself, Shirou knew for a fact that everyone else couldn't see that the people that they were killing as 'easy pickings' had instead just lost their drive.
Almost intimately, he could discern the cause of the hesitation and indecisiveness found in the Empire's soldiers.
Caliburn thrummed in the grasp of his right hand, its warm glow shining with the promise of its legend to guide the chosen King and save the land. There were just too many parallels between what he was doing now, and what Saber had been doing for her own homeland: Hidden Royalty, a greater purpose, and even the conviction to see it through for the sake of the innocent and those that they cared for.
Caliburn's light had never shone in his hands so brilliantly as it did now, and it affected the hearts of all.
The world wasn't just black and white.
Were all of the current Empire's citizens and soldiers mired in the pits of corruption and deceit? Did everyone standing on the side of the Empire's army deserve death if they may or may not be simply fighting to preserve their own livelihoods and that of their family's?
There was killing because it was necessary, but this was nothing else but slaughter. Murder.
Shirou watched as three more soldiers were killed right before him in vivid detail.
This wasn't right, but Bulat's advice wasn't wrong either. For every solider that was hesitating, there were still those that didn't care and were firing regardless.
War was a dark thing. There were no such concepts as good or evil, only that of survival and the will to do whatever it took. He understood this vividly, which was all the more reason he felt like he was once more walking through hell.
What should he do?
Caliburn's light enveloped him as if in consolation, yet it did little to ease the growing guilt.
"Charge forward and kill him up close! W-We'll remain near the rearguard to oversee the battlefield!" Several commanders on the Empire's side issued at once.
Seeing how ineffective projectiles were faring, there was little choice but to send in the infantry. However, the sight of generals clambering and bickering over each other to be the ones to retreat to the rearguard while ordering the rest onward was as appalling to Shirou as it was for those being ordered forward.
Their faith was shaking, their resolve shattering in the wind as their very leaders practically left them for dead.
This wasn't right. None of this was right.
"Cowards," Selka strode up to run beside Shirou, Akame bringing up Selka's right.
"They're just sending these men and women to their deaths," Akame commented blandly.
"You can see it in their eyes. They're scared," Selka could feel their trepidation as an experienced Hunter.
"All the better," Akame readied her sword, the rest of Calla's forces following suit.
"With Shirou around, we need to eliminate as much of the Empire's forces as we can before the Revolutionaries intervene," Leone spoke up.
A blood bath would surely begin.
Shirou's teeth gritted, before he finally couldn't take this anymore.
"Stop! Stop all of you!" He ordered, hands balling into fists as he recalled his purpose in ignoring Elaine's plans and going through with his present actions. "None of you seem to understand. This was never a war about killing!"
Stopping in place, he unwaveringly held Rho Aias aloft to hold off the Empire's barrage while regarding his allies.
"This is war!" Bulat argued back sternly before anyone else.
"And not everyone is an enemy!"
Shirou resolved himself in this moment. He could see where Bulat and everyone else was obviously coming from, but he could never stomach harming those who didn't need to be harmed.
Caliburn thrummed in his hands, and suddenly he realized that there was a way.
Before anyone else could respond, he broke out of formation while keeping Rho Aias's shield projected over him and the rest, before immediately arriving at the front of the charging Empire soldiers.
"S-Shirou! What are you doing?!" Akame, Selka, and everyone else exclaimed in alarm and worry.
'What was he doing indeed.'
If Rin were around, she'd probably consider this action as another noteworthy accolade in the chronicles of Emiya, but in his eyes this was something that needed to be done.
The Empire foot soldiers Shirou arrived directly before froze at his sudden appearance. His eyes narrowed upon all of them, their own 'comrades' still firing at Rho Aias despite their proximity to him.
"Your trembling, why? Is it because of me?" He questioned; his eyes narrowed on one particular solider shaking in her combat boots. "Where is the strength of your conviction? Your mettle?" He stressed, voice growing ever louder, ever stronger until it was droning across the expanse.
The soldiers before him at the very front were those who'd already resigned themselves to their fates. He could infer this clearly.
He'd seen the worst and the best of people in order to know that behind every action was an underlying motivation.
"Why do you all fight? What meaning is there in this victory for you all? Do you all fight because of honour, pride, achievement, or simply because of circumstances outside your own control?" He inquired, volume growing with his own righteousness and idealism.
"Is my life so important that it outweighs that of each of your own?"
He ranted his very soul out, his grievances, his empathy.
"You, all of you are citizens of the Empire! What will this victory grant you knowing the type of Prime Minster you're dedicating your life towards?! Your deaths are meaningless, your efforts vain, your legacy worth nothing more than dirt to those that are actually deemed to matter! It's not fair right? It's not just! It's not humane! That kind of world, that kind of society, I won't stand for it! So, why would you all?!"
No answer. Perhaps it was due to the sincerity of his tone and his own beliefs willing him to say what mattered most that rendered them speechless. Everyone speechless.
He spoke not with any agenda, nor hidden motives, but genuine honesty that lies could never hope to conceal.
From afar, his voice echoed past the hail of bullets, carried through the wind first to those before him, then to the Empire and the Revolutionaries.
To Liver, it even felt as if Shirou was yelling and admonishing him directly, needless to say of everyone else with their own inner demons.
Shirou just couldn't understand the Empire's current mentality, and that was what made it even more unacceptable regarding the desires of its citizens!
"Do you really want to win, and put an end to anything remotely close to change?! If that's the type of victory that you want, the future that you want, then strike me down right here and now!"
Walking up the nearest soldier, Shirou stared them all down one by one, not even considering to guard himself. He didn't have to. None of those directly in front of him could meet his gaze.
"If none of you even posses the courage to raise your weapons, then what reason do you have to protect those that cower behind the security of underhanded authority?!"
The silence was suffocating at those words for the common citizens, but a flat-out declaration of hostility to those already in high positions in the Empire. Still, one crucial fact remained. Those not in high positions far outnumbered those that were.
The true backbone of any nation wasn't its leaders, but the people that comprised it.
"I see a future beyond deceit, a future beyond corruption, and a land bereft of it, if none of you can picture it, then stand aside and look first upon the light of this sword and the miracle in victory it grants!"
To others, this sword will only ever be known with a single title.
'Sword of the Emperor.'
Shirou hoisted Caliburn up, the glow surrounding it near blinding in its holy-esque luster.
If a certain sword was the sword carrying the dreams of mankind, then Caliburn was a sword that represented hope. By calling out its true name, it would be an attack equivalent to the Sword of the Victorious, annihilating all in its way. However, it wasn't a sword meant for mass slaughter to begin with, but one of choosing and choice.
He overloaded it, shattered it into fragments bursting with magical energy fading out into the surroundings.
The legacy of a crystalized legend at its strongest output was known as a Broken Phantasm, unleashing the truest representation of the mystery that legacy embodied and represented.
"The stars tell the tale of a miracle unseen, nor heard."
Layers of golden dust glimmered sharply, encapsulating all within their glow.
"Like guiding beacons, they are signs seen by all travelers staring upon the same sky no matter where one stands in the night. They represent hope and aspiration in the dark never to be smothered."
The layers of golden dust swirled and swept across all, passing straight through their bodies and touching upon their very characters.
Sword of Selection.
"…Illuminate the wicked," the rest of what comprised Caliburn faded entirely from Shirou's hands at the utterance of these last three words.
The very light that had touched upon all those present exuded out from each person in an aura of either white, black, or gray.
What would occur now would no longer affect his morality.
All hesitation vanished from Shirou's eyes at the sight. Shattering Caliburn had cost him a great expense of energy, but it stayed true to his own ideals and convictions. He stayed true to himself.
There was a time and place for mercy and repentance, but the enemies that stood before him judged black by the sword of selection were rotten to the core.
The enemies that needed to be killed could not have been anymore blatant.
The true battle would begin now. However-
His knees wobbled.
His body likely wouldn't be able to endure the strain of overloading Caliburn for long, but it mattered little in his considerations. He had to maintain consciousness if only to maintain Rho Aias.
Forcing himself to remain steady, he barely got a step in before he very nearly fell over before a hand steadied him in a manor that made it look like she was merely patting his shoulder.
"Kid, you're really just something else, aren't you? The way some of these soldiers are looking at you, you've likely swayed several turn-coats." A familiar authoritative voice spoke into his ear. "No wait, or is should I call you your Majesty?"
Shirou glanced up to see the nearest Empire soldiers giving him a wide berth, then to crane his neck to the side to the person keeping him standing properly.
"Najenda," he called out. "I thought you'd be keeping a vantage point?"
"That was the plan, and then you went and did this," Najenda didn't know whether to be amused or moved as they were still technically in a war zone, but she was leaning towards the latter. What Shirou had said and done carried a charisma and drive that instigated old dreams. "I spoke with Chouri in secret, and I assume it won't be good for your image if you were seen falling? Of course, Akame, Selka, or the rest could have made just as good a support, but none of them know how to lead or be very subtle in keeping you steady."
Saying this, Najenda helped prop Shirou up in a way that made it seem like he'd never staggered in the first place. From how effortlessly she did it, it spoke volumes for her experience, and the slight awe must have shown on his face because she snorted. .
"I sometimes forget I only ever met you in the guise of the leader of Night Raid. Let me take this opportunity to reintroduce myself." She inclined her head. "Former General of the Empire's Strike Forces, Najenda at your service. Leave the commanding to me. Now what's going on with all the lights?"
"My sword, it reveals the truest reflection of a person's heart and character."
"Aim for black then, but be cautious of gray. It's rather explicit."
"That's the idea," Shirou eked out, body trembling, muscles screaming in agony. "I'll be needing a moment to recover," he was forced to admit while short of breath.
"Just a bit?"
"Yes."
"That's a lot of black," Najenda drawled before returning to all seriousness. She narrowed her eyes. "Be truthful here, how long do you really need? Our numbers aren't the greatest right now, and skirting the issue isn't going to aid anyone."
Shirou's countenance hardened.
"…At least ten minutes," he admitted his shortest estimate, and given the number of hostiles, it was a bleak figure.
"…"
"Is it too long?"
"No." Najenda shook her head. "We'll get it done, so just take the time to recover as soon as you can. You've spoken your part, now let us do ours. Anyways, that future you spoke of…can you really see it in this rotten country?"
"Don't you already have the answer?"
Both Shirou and Najenda's attention fell upon the Empire and Revolutionary army.
In the sea of depressing black, many lights still shone.
In the Greek fable of Pandora and a box that contained the world's evils, hope existed within the dark, and that alone was the spark worth fighting for.
Something within Najenda and the hearts of many others stirred at the display of radiance.
As one, they glanced towards one person alone.
Exhausted, yet standing firm, holding a shield aloft for the sake of those behind him.
Where he stood, the Empire stood.
Where he fell, the betterment and aspirations of a better Empire would fall.
This was their Emperor, and just like the First Emperor, he'd shown the path through his sword; the impact of which would echo in the annals of history and legend.
"You heard him," Najenda's voice echoed solemnly amidst Calla's ranks. "Ten minutes."
Eyes hardening and features growing resolute, the air shifted.
'Offer your hearts.'
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