AN: Saulty's back...but not for long before he's busy again.

AN: The reason why it took so long is because I've got a job now...(Boooo!) yes, i know... it sucks as many great fanfics have fallen victim to real life issues, mine included (I wouldn't say mine are the greatest, but thats up for debate).

Don't expect too much off of me, as i'm not as enthusiastic with some of my other fics, especially the Naruto fics. I just can't put up with the generic business anymore as everybody knows that Naruto fanfics are the prime example of generic, unoriginal and easy gains for a comfortable start on Fanfiction.

But that doesn't mean I've quit Fanfiction, oh no. if anything im wanting to try out something new, this fic included is one of the fics that i personally like doing.

So this fic is a new update...not sure about it as i only have one beta as feedback and that is only one person with one opinion, so i'll wing it as i always do.

Chapter 7: Hearth Attack

Somewhere in the outskirts of Hearth, located in the south east was the Livingston Hall estate home for the Livingston family, although it was previously seized from the last family that used to own it and the town included. The entire place was a huge home complete with long hallways and many spacious rooms along with two wings on both sides of the central building where it was filled with many expensive personal treasures of the Livingston family as well as the seized personal treasures of the previous noble family that was filled with priceless paintings, artefacts, antiques, weapons and armour decorating the walls, the halls and each room. Its gardens spanned over eight acres of land that were filled with rare lavish plants, furniture, trees and architecture.

In the master bedroom of the estate home was the new lord of Hearth and heir to the Livingston family name, Christopher Patrick Livingston. The boy was just only 16 years old, but his temper and attitude was of a spoilt petulant child who always gets what he wants from his father. The boy was like his father in many ways, as it was his father who mostly raised him into what he is now. Nobody knew what had happened to the mother of the young noble boy, but there were suspicions that many people were too afraid to speak or mention out loud.

Physically, the boy resembles his father only that he has a mop of blonde hair and his body structure was of a short, plump, chubby and chunky, pale, gluttonous pig looking boy with a hairless body. The boy hated his fruit and vegetables as well as milk, but he loved meat, wine and especially sweets most of all to gorge down on. He hated being made to eat the devilish things that were broccoli, cabbage, potatoes and carrots (Blegh!). He vehemently refuses every time to eat anything that was grown in the shit and mud from some poor backwater village, or so he says, and that it was filthy commoner food so he refuses to even touch them. He especially hates it when people tell him no, which was one of the reasons why nobody ever mentions his mother around him.

Those that do remember his mother have recalled times that when he was a young child his temper tantrums were especially bad whenever he got punished by his mother. Some people would think that she was just being a strict and stern mother, but she was only doing her job as any other normal mother and that is to be fair and just while she raised him.

However, no spankings or chastising conversations with parent to child ever made him learn his lesson as his father was the one to blame by always coddling him too much. Christopher soon began to believe that it was his mother that was in the wrong and he eventually stopped and refused to listen to or care for her at all, always favouring his father's attention more. Until years later… the lady of the house suddenly disappeared one night during the civil war. Nobody knew what had happened to her, but there were mutters of rumours that sometimes during the night you could hear the sound of wailing, screaming and sobbing in the halls from a woman in anguish and suffering, there was even times where furious bloodcurdling cursing was heard echoing in the halls sometimes. Some people drew up reactions and conclusions that the manor house was haunted, but the servants and the guards never confirmed it and refused to comment on it any further. The fat oaf of the late Count Livingston himself simply chuckled and waved it off as nonsense, clearly not believing the stories and tall tales of supernatural nonsense.

Tonight was where the new lord of the manor would spend most of his time mourning for his father in his own way by indulging himself in many things like how his father used to… drinking, eating and whoring to at least ease the pain of his loss. But on that night, it didn't seem to be working when one of the wenches he had his men brought (Forced) to the manor to service his lustful desires had accidently… offended him.

"You Stupid lying bitch!" the roar was heard outside of the master bedroom until the whole manor house heard a horrific blood curdling scream and a sudden explosion.

The old head butler, Douglass Connolly, a minor disgraced noble now serving as a butler for the house under the last family that lived there but was forced into serving the family who now owns him, had come rushing into the room with the guards after they heard the scream. What he and the guards saw after they had come rushing into the room was the aftermath of one poor fate of an innocent maiden they had brought into the manor house to serve their lord had been brutally murdered by the late count's son. The poor girl had been scorched alive, her skin was nothing but charred black and the carpet and the walls were singed, smouldering and a smoking ruin. Luckily, nothing else had caught fire and set off a chain reaction in the master bedroom, at least the count's son knew some restraint of when to hold his destructive and violent tendencies to himself when it came to his home.

"Bloody hell, what happened here!?" The butler gaped in shock and horror over the brutal scene of a charred corpse of an innocent girl.

Christopher's nostrils were flaring in barely contained rage and his teeth cracking together as he seethed in outrage. "That… filthy whore dared to spout lies that my father was murdered by common bandits! It was the royalist sympathisers, I swear it was them! And she dared to pretend that she was a virgin!? She injured herself down there just to fake it! She dared to trick me, the son of Count Charles Henry Livingston! She should've been honoured that I was the one to deflower her, as should every virgin girl in Hearth and the region, those ungrateful swines!" Christopher screeched indignantly in his deluded madness. "This is an affront to my name and honour! I needed to teach that damn whore a lesson, and so I shall find her family and friends and teach them and every commoner filth a lesson to those who try to make a mockery of me!" He bellowed before he took in huge gulps of air before he calmed down a bit and the bulging veins in his temples receded back into his head before biting into his lower lip.

"Uuunnh!" the Livingston Heir soon bit hard into his own lips as the tears began to build up in his eyes, threatening to spill.

'Oh no…' Douglass mentally cursed to himself as he pursed his lips as he knew what was coming next.

The boy noble then started to wail like a child with a scraped knee, crying for his papa "Father... why'd you have to die!? I swear I will avenge you! You deserved an honourable death, not having your skull smashed in by barbarians!" The young boy heir wailed at his loss before his sorrow turned again as he hurled a fire ball at the guards that were standing by. One fortunately dodges, yet the other behind him had his right arm set alight before he desperately put it out.

"Fuck off! Leave me be! I bloody well told you don't come bothering me until my father's killers have been found!" he screamed at his personal guards and head butler before they scampered off hurriedly before his temper could get any worse. "I'll go see if she wants to play" the Butler heard the last thing he said before he escaped from the wretched room, his last demented words making him shudder and wince anxiously and regretfully.

The old Butler pinched his nose and swore to himself. 'That little shit's temper is getting worse by the day. I actually fear for the town's future if he remains in charge of the town…I am so sorry Lady Silverstone' He thought grimly as he worried for the town's future as he stood by a window and stared out to see flashes in the sky and the thunderous sound of rumbling in the horizon in the direction of the town.

'Hmm…A storm's coming… and it's going to be a big one.' he mused to himself until he noticed a strange red and orange light shining in the darkness in the direction of the town…or was coming from inside of the town itself. It was a brief flash, yet faint from where he was standing, although it was fairly difficult to make out what he saw as the town was covered in a blanket of darkness due to the storm.

Douglas may have been old, but a fool he was not and his eyesight had never let him down. Recalling from his years of experience as a captain in the Royal Albionion Navy captain, he had a suspicion that what he saw was a fire erupting from a large building…or an explosion?

"Sir Douglas!" a man dressed as a town guardsman had rushed forwards to meet him as he ran down the corridor, it looked as if he had been running for quite a while and was in a hurry. He could tell that he was meaning to find him what with the look of anxiousness and fear written on his face.

"What's wrong, lad?" he called over to the young guard

"It's hearth, sir…it's…"

"What?...what's going on down there?"

"It's been captured, sir! There's been a bloody warzone down there and we weren't even aware of it!"

"What!?" Douglass was gobsmacked at the impossibility behind the report. A whole town went silent and they were no even made aware of it even occurring? Ludicrous! Just what were those Town militia men doing?

"I…I don't know how, but… they came out of nowhere…out from the cover of the storm and the night, we never saw them coming!…" the young lad stammered nervously.

Douglas grabbed onto his shoulder to calm him down and demand for more answers "Who, lad? Who is invading us? Is it The Royalists?"

He shook his head "No…I… I don't think so, but I think they're … only just commoners"

"Commoners?" Douglas couldn't believe what he just heard but was soon cut off from a well-timed distraction as they were then interrupted when they both saw another strange light not so far out in the distance that was located a few leagues away in between them and the town. Douglas studied that light in the darkness and he realised that it came from a short distance away in the direction between the entrances of the southern town entrance and just outside the private land of the Livingston estate. It hovered in the air for a brief moment overhead as the light flickered for a while before it disappeared in the wind.

"Strange…" he murmured under his breathe until he got the shock of his life of what happened next. He briefly caught the Flashes that illuminated through the darkness of the night located a fair distance away from them and the town. He also caught the unmistakable sounds that rumbled through the ground and echoed all around in the area. It only took him a couple of seconds to realise what was going to happen as he heard the dreaded sounds of high pitched whistling and the streaks of white light hurtling through the sky that was rapidly closing in on their positon fast.

"Incoming! Enemy Artillery!" he could only yell out in warning by the time the first few rounds struck the manor house with such explosive force that sent him to the ground as well as the ornaments and parts of the ceiling. One artillery shell blasted through a window just five meters away from him, destroying parts of the wall and the ceiling with it and the shockwave, wind and rain rushing in through the building as it blew out all of the lights in the hallway and knocked every ornament, plant, painting and decoration off the walls.

His hearing had gone, the only thing he could briefly hear and see were the many guards picking his body up, shaking him to get an answer of what were they to do? The answer should've been obvious as he could hear the boy noble terrified screeching out orders left and right as he fled back into his room with a trail of piss dripping from his breeches leaving a trail behind him.

Then as his hearing recovered a bit, he could hear the scream of wounded men, one of them writhing on the floor in agony as he held onto what was left of his left arm that was bleeding all over the carpet. Not good, the lord of the manor will be most upset by that.

But the main and only question on his mind was… 'How did this happen?'

(Earlier)

The two personnel that were tasked in assisting with the baker and her daughter could feel the shift in the atmosphere around the town just after the bells were tolled. It was just before closing time when they heard it, the cold sense of dread when they listened to the specific tune the bell played.

The sound of it haunted the mother and daughter to this very day. Stranger still was the sights of multiple civilians, all of them poor, downtrodden, sickly and starving were all seen marching like zombies towards the callings of the church.

The two constructs looked at each other and knew that something bad was going to happen when they saw Hannah clutching fearfully onto Linda's waist, even Linda herself briefly lost her tough woman act and was holding onto her daughter for dear life until she her jaw locked together in a snarl.

"What was the purpose of those bells? Why does it frighten you so much?" one of them asked

Linda glanced at the personnel and uttered out. "It's a calling for a purge… it means someone's going to die tonight. My husband and my sons died the same way" she said with her voice cold and filled with dread.

"Do you know who the target will be this time?"

Linda thought long and hard as she scowled. "Father Timms has tried to target my daughters many times with his preaches and threats before, but he always backs off when I confronted him about it. However, it's his followers that I'm afraid of, as Timms does not have absolute control over them as he thinks he does. If I were to guess who it'll be this time, it would be pretty obvious that it would be your leader and boss, Zachary Crowshaw"

They were soon interrupted by a knock on the door and the two personnel opened it to see that it was a hooded ranger with a Henry repeater rifle on his back carried by a sling.

"Boss called, says it's time." He nodded his head over his shoulder.

"And the Bakers?"

"Send them to the Trade, they're not safe here." The Ranger said before moving out.

"What's going on?" Hannah whimpered by her Mother's side.

"Grab your things, quickly! We're getting out of here!" The two assistants withdrew their revolvers and provided lookout for them as soon as they were ready to leave.

They soon escaped by the time they heard the war cries bellowing out inside the church. They escaped just in time before rouge elements of the mob scattered and torched the bakery to the ground, believing them to be inside. They weren't told to do this of course as the father's firm grip on his followers had slipped a bit, as they were following their own initiatives due to their corrupted and influenced minds that adhere to the Father's philosophy of the Bad Apples. The Father would've been outraged at the thought of his beloved Linda being hurt, if he found out about this.

Shortly after the church had been emptied of all attendants along with the preacher, Misaki's mission was now a go. She had to act quickly because every moment spent here looking for ways to help her Master stop the fighting before it could begin were drawing closer.

Her feelings behind these orders were causing a bit of a conflict within herself as she felt she should be by her master's side, not looking for evidence and proof to convict the Father in front of all of his followers. Her Master didn't want to shed any blood of the innocent, which is understandable in a way for an average 21st century Englishman from Planet Earth, but she can't promise him that it would go his way as in her view they were but rabid dogs that may need putting down for good, but it was not her call to make. If her Master believes that there is a way to quell the upcoming storm and frenzied masses, then she will follow his wishes to the end, but she'll have to hurry as they will reach the Free Trade at any moment now as soon as the mad preacher has finished arming his mob of mad rabid dogs.

Being a skilled intelligence officer she knew exactly how and where to search for crucial information in espionage missions. Checking the surface of the desk first is a start, as he may have left something important lying about? It turned out that he did leave something behind, which was a bit unorganised and careless of him as there were documents and reports of their suspiciously gained income from the past couple of months ago from these… generous donations, which was nothing much to go on, but they did look dubious for a simple church. The majority came from the pockets of the poor and the unfortunate, while the most gold they earned were from bribes and suspicious donations from Reconqusita.

She shuffled through more documents and discovered that he made a recent transaction from McCoy's trading company for the purchase of some… Whitechapel Holy Water ointments imported directly from Londonium's Arch cathedral of Albion? Hmm… apparently it's a recent concoction made by some of their priests or alchemists? it's purpose is to purify the soul of any faithful follower of Brimir and guide them to their true path where they will be rewarded by Brimir for their faithfulness… well that didn't explain much, but Misaki had a feeling that there was something more to this supposed Holy Water.

Fortunately, she did happen to notice a few of the crates with the logos of McCoy's trading company in the corner of the room. She managed to find a crowbar resting nearby on the window sill and pried the crates open to see several sealed glass bottles containing what seems to be a pristine clear liquid. She found a note inside the crate filled with bottles and straw inside, so she picked the note out of the crate and read it.

"If the Glass breaks or the bottle is left open, do not breathe the fumes in."

'Fumes?' Misaki raised an eyebrow at that and decided to cautiously unseal one of the bottles and take a quick small sniff of it. As expected she reeled her head back before crouching suddenly at the strong and powerful scent of the supposed holy water. Her eyes were watering but not by much, her vision went a bit cloudy before she forcefully regained her conciseness through sheer willpower and the perks of having a strong mental willpower granted by her Master.

She regained her consciousness and quickly resealed the bottle. "What the hell was that?" she muttered to herself.

There was no way that this holy water was any simple ointment. What she felt was something akin to a hallucinogenic narcotic drug. She didn't know what it was, but she will need to gather more evidence to support her claim that the Father was deliberately tampering with the church's supply of holy water and induced multiple victims into using the drug, whether he convinced them, deceived them or forced them into taking them it mattered not as his time in this world were already numbered.

She eventually found the solid evidence she was looking for in one of the locked drawers in the Father's desk. Not caring for subtlety as she just ripped the drawer out of the desk with brute force and inside the drawer was a thick red journal, The Father's Journal.

She picked up the red book and skim read through the whole contents of each page, the further on she went the wider her smirk grew. Each page was digging the proverbial grave deeper each time she found crimes linking towards Father Timms that proved his hypocrisy until she discovered what the Holy water's use actually was.

The shocking truth of the ingredients behind the so called Holy water were made illegally by a team of secret underground alchemists working for him where they were responsible for creating an addictive psychotropic narcotic drug mixed into the water itself that briefly induces hallucinatory flashbacks to a more pleasant past experience or visions of what they most desire in their hearts as the first stage effect. They called it Repentance. A drug that induces temporary behavioural abnormalities that is exhibited while under the influence of Repentance, and it is also useful as either a truth serum or an indoctrination tool. Once the drug wears off, the user is left unable to speak for some time and finally becoming an invalid for a brief time and then become mentally vulnerable for manipulation and indoctrination purposes for the Father to spread his influence into their minds, whispering false illusions of promises that were never real or honest about to begin with. The Father uses this illegal concoction to deceive people and rob them out of their money and of their hopes for the future. The effects were dangerous when in the wrong hands, as it warned that the side effects could include homicidal frenzies and violent, but sporadic berserker rage episodes if encouraged.

She had read enough of what she needed to return now before the war could begin, but not before collecting the evidence and leaving through the window of where she came from.

The streets lit up by another flash of lightening, the thunder boomed in the distance, yet the heavens refused to spill yet.

Father Timms had finished arming the mob of whatever weapons he could find from torches, hunting bows and crossbows, slings, clubs, farming tools, machetes, hatchets, knives, wooden planks with nails embedded in them and stones.

Hundreds have joined him on his march to war against the heretics that were Terra Nova. He will once again bring peace to the streets of Hearth after the last heretics had been forcefully removed after the Bard.

Yet, he still couldn't understand why the love of his life still clung on to the memory of that son of a whore. He still mocks him even in death, his essence still clings onto her no matter how much he tries to comfort her and make her love him, but she always rejects violently towards him and spitting curses at his face, until then she continues to mourn over the loss of her true love, her wails reminding him of his own failures…why he would never win her heart over The Bard. Two decades had passed since then and the reminders of his own bitter failure now roamed the streets of Hearth. The wretched spawns of the bard remains alive to this day, although he did get the satisfaction he desired when he personally dealt with the sons of the bard. And thus he succeeded in removing the bad apples of the Bard's so that his cursed line will not continue through their rotten seed. Yet the daughters were still alive, fit to breed more rotten apples into his own peaceful society he was trying to build.

He was all too eager having them removed and releasing the burdens of the curse from his Linda's shoulders, freeing her from the Bard's control and influence. Yet he never risked it, as Linda was always too cautious and highly protective of her daughters and she would always risk her life to protect them, to die for them. He needed to find a way in removing them away from Linda's reach for her own good, as he will never risk any harm towards her. His followers would always help him as it is always their purpose to serve him and follow Brimir's and Reconquista's will, but what he was unsure of and unaware about was that they all lacked discipline and would often act unpredictably and irrationally after being subjected to the side effects of the narcotic water.

But as soon as they were nearing the Free Trade INN by the west gate, the place he was informed of the whereabouts of the leader of Terra Nova, he wasn't informed or aware of the situation on their end as there was now a reinforced line formation of armed men and women in the street, all lined up together in a wall/ barrier of curved reinforced metallic shields held out towards them, with more personnel stacked behind them to provide support for the first line of defence.

Father Timms sneered at the audacity of these armed men and women under the command of this bully. However, he was unaware of the true numbers as after a brief flash of lightening illuminating the whole area was he truly aware of how surrounded and outgunned he really was. On the roof tops there were many more men and women looming down on them, Firearms in hand trained on them. The shield wall in front of them and the men and women behind them were all equally armed and armoured with several deadly looking weapons all aiming directly at them.

Their armour wasn't anything grand and they all lacked the majestic colours of a true army like Reconquista's glorious army colours with their decors and artistic patterns on their armours as well as the majestic Royal Army's own, but the armed group in front of them were all plain drab uniforms and armour that were made for the practical, professional, and efficient jobs in mind that is suited for one purpose in mind… war. The firearms in their hands were unfamiliar at first glance, nothing like any firearm he has ever seen in any of the kingdoms or Germania for instance. Their secondary weapons they had were all non-lethal weapons such as these clubs, but they were made in mid for disabling the attackers, not for killing… 'Were they trying to show mercy even when they are pointing firearms at us?' Father Timms mused in his mind, scoffing at the thought.

Father Timms came to realise that he may have bitten off more than he could chew, he was no military tactician, General or a soldier, he was but a devoted man to his religion who was now leading a commoner mob against an organised militaristic force. These were no mere caravan guards or mercenaries… he was in the presence of a true obstacle that was trained for this. Another thought lingered in his mind… 'Where are the Town's Guardsmen? They were supposed to be stationed at the west gate?' he wondered briefly before he snorted and blamed Horace for his subordinate's uselessness.

But he will not falter here now as he has come so far. To give up now would mean that he would be made a mockery of and a fool in front of everyone, to be seen as the man who was wrong in his teachings and branded as a failure and a coward in his role of guidance to the commoners. No, he will press on no matter what, nothing else mattered but freeing all of Hearth from the bad apples and freeing Linda from his grasp once and for all.

"Father Timms!"

'Oh, here comes an annoyance.' Father Timms sneered at hearing a familiar voice that came from the Town Mayor, Arthur Pritchard himself. The man was in his early sixties and had a neatly groomed short grey hair along with a short but tidy fringe. The man had a short portly but heavy build that was not seriously overweight. He wore brown breeches, a white button up shirt and a grey waist coat over along with black shoes. The Mayor was but a small rate minor noble, an insignificant waste of space who's always objected towards his noble and just actions, but he's never had the courage to stand up vocally to him until now.

"Just what is the meaning behind this madness!?" He called out in outrage as he stepped through the gap of the shield wall.

"What must be done, Sir Arthur Pritchard! Step aside now, or you will only get yourself involved in the way of divine justice!" Father Timm called out on the other end of the street, warning him of the consequences.

"What justice defines leading an unlawful purge on our town once again, haven't we suffered enough bloodshed!? The last one was disgusting enough! And let's not forget what Linda and her daughters have gone through because of you!" The mayor objected strongly.

"Watch it, Arthur! Watch your tongue!" The Father snarled, digging his nails into the spine of his book (Brimiric Bible or something) that he had brought with him. How dare he accuse him and his actions as disgusting, he should be grovelling on the ground and showing his gratitude and giving him the respect he deserves.

"I will not!" The Mayor shouted defiantly with a straight back that had taken Timms by surprise. He always considered The Mayor as a feeble coward. He never stood up to anyone like this before, he was always cowing down to his betters even straight after Reconqusita took control of the town and he never did a single thing to stop them, but now… something or someone has given him a spine.

"Y-you dare!?" Timms seethed in outrage.

"I do dare! I've had enough of you, Timms! No, we've all had enough of you and that bastard Horace, that greedy wanker McCoy and the fucking Livingstons! And yet you dare to accuse the very people who are helping us! Can't you see what they have done for us when Reconqusita hasn't even lifted a finger to help us!? Money has finally begun to flow into our town once again, food is now being brought onto our tables and to fill our bellies again that has brought back the spirit that our town has long forgotten that is now at long last being lifted back up again! We owe them our gratitude, not chasing them out of town with weapons against their backs! And you dare to take all that away from us!? No, Father Timms! Terra Nova are not the true villains here, you are!" He pointed an accusing finger straight at the Father.

There were shouts of approval coming from INN as the people who were once cowering in the INN began to voice their approval loudly and they all exited the inn and joined him from behind the line of Terra Nova's personnel. Even the people who were hiding in their homes had stepped forward to voice their objections, but they were all told sternly to get behind the shield wall or stay in their homes by several of the more important looking Personnel… 'Officers perhaps?' But the people were adamant in voicing out their outcries against to who they saw as the aggressors, so they all formed up behind the shield wall or yelled out their protests from their doorways and windows.

Father Timms had made a grave error of misjudgement as he never expected any resistance and thought that once everybody in the town heard the bells tolling, they would know better than to get in his way. Yet the people here were rising up against him in droves… their spirits were re-ignited like a raging inferno… all because of one man that they hailed as their hero and champion 'Why… why does this all look so… familiar?' Timms choked on his own breathe when he began to see visions of the same blasted man, and the way he used his foul cursed aura against the innocents to lure them away from him.

He looked around and witnessed the energy of the furious and passionate cries of the commoners that were beginning to make his followers falter in their places behind their leader, confusion and doubt were corroding against their poisoned senses. Timms realised that the effects of Repentance were beginning to wear away and the fury of the commoners were making them confused as to who was in the right. He must get his people's trust firmly into his hands and to convince the commoners in front of him that they were under Terra Nova's spell and that they must see the error of their ways

Timms rejected that statement vehemently in the best way he knows and tried, preaching. "NO! It is all of You who are wrong! It is you who are being deceived! That foul demon is using you for his own wicked agendas! Can't you see it!? You are being led astray form the true path of guidance Brimir has set down for us all! Only he can lead us on to the path of true salvation!"

"But not like this!" another voice called out as another figure slipped through the gaps of the shield wall. "Why would Brimir ever want this!? We were supposed to protect and provide guidance towards the common people, not enslave them by force!" a young woman who wore a form fitting white nun uniform stepped forward, tears threatening to spill.

"Sister Amelia…what are you doing on their side?" Father Timms growled at the betrayal.

"I've brought all the children from the orphanage here to be fed, safe and warm for the night… away from the church I once knew and loved that you've turned into a nest of sin and depravity, and away from your rotten clutches! I've spoken to the man, Zachary Crowshaw and he even reserved a table and rooms for all of us to stay at! He's not the monster you claim him to be, he's what this town needs!" The sister pleaded for the father to see reason.

However, The Father had lost all sense of reason long ago. His face was now clouded, but his eyes and expression morphed into an ugly snarl as he descended further into his wrath and madness. "No…No,no,no…You are wrong! All of you! You…Traitors! Ingrates! Heretics!… This town needs me!" he bellowed out his furious outcry of denial and was about to order for the attack when the man himself, the one he was here for revealed himself at long last.

"No Father, it never has needed you." The Burned Man turned up as he walked through the gap of the shield wall, ushering for the Mayor and the Sister to get back inside for their own safety.

"You~" The father hissed venomously.

"Me…" The Burned man, Zachary Crowshaw, remained impassive to his threatening gaze "What exactly is your problem with me being here, Father? For someone who is supposed to be the voice of guidance of your Founder you are setting a bad example for yourself and the faith itself if it follows a bunch of self-serving assholes with the way they are leading this town that you and the rest of this town will find itself further into ruin if you continue on this path of hatred and darkness you are all leading it into.

So stop deluding yourself, Father…You are truly not the hero you think you are, even if you like to be. If it was even true, then you would be helping us and the country fight against the tyranny of Reconquista that plagues this town, not encouraging mass slavery, purges and starvation of the innocent masses."

"You know nothing, Heretic! Reconquista are what this country needs, what Halkeginia Needs!" Father Timms objected strongly to his accusation in favour of his masters and sponsors.

"So you say…" He tilted his head in scepticism. "But I've discovered some pretty interesting things about you that will… contradict your statements." He then retrieved a red journal from out of his coat pocket, His Journal.

"Y-you Thief! Where did you get that book!?" Timms recoiled in horror as he discovered that his enemy had somehow acquired his secret Journal.

"You really should keep your thoughts to yourself, Father Timms… You're only condemning yourself to the deepest pits of hell what with all of your skeletons that infest inside of your cupboard for everybody to see once they eventually discover it, which by itself wasn't that difficult to find, according to a dear friend of mine." The Burned man gave off a glint in his eye that taunted him.

"You wouldn't dare!" The Father gritted his teeth together. His followers were confused on why he was panicking.

"I wouldn't? Guess again." He raised a brow before scoffing as he shrugged in response.

"He's right, Father Timms! Come clean with yourself already! We're all aware of your atrocities you've committed in this town, against all of us!" The Mayor called out behind the shield wall.

"You told them!?" The preacher glared at the leader of Terra nova in horror and hatred, his reputation and standing with the faith ruined and tarnished now that his secrets were out of the bag in plain sight. It won't be long until all of Albion and then all of the Brimiric nations of Halkeginia knew of his atrocities.

The leader of Terra Nova only gave off an indifferent shrug "Quite a lot of people have turned up here for the opening of the new INN by the west gate, everybody here knows each other quite well and I suspect that news gets around quite quickly in these parts… I wonder how Linda will react to this when she gets here, how will she think of you now that you've intended to poison the minds and get them doped up on some concoction that turns them into some kind of mindless zombies, and especially with what really happened to Jack..." he drawled on, tauntingly.

"Don't!... Mention his name!" the preacher briefly slipped into madness when the mention of the one name he absolutely despised.

Zachary looked at him as if he didn't get what the offense was "Why not? Wasn't he your best friend at one point, before that one war that happened two and a half decades ago?"

"I was never…Never!... Friends with that heretic!" he objected strongly.

Zachary only shook his head and waved the journal in the air just above his head "The journal here says otherwise, this thing doesn't lie since you were the one who wrote it. It clearly says here on this page that you were but inseparable brothers at one point where he saved you from a pirate raid on a merchant ship that you were on board of at the time. Cost him a leg for your life where he had to save your miserable and ungrateful arse. And then how do you repay him? By Spending 20 long years wallowing in your own selfish pit of envy, loathing and hatred for the man who saved your life and then siccing your corrupted followers on him, tearing apart a loyal and loving husband and father to his wife and children , all because he was a better man than you and that the woman you had your eyes on first… didn't love you… who will never love you." Zachary ruthlessly said it with intent, to drive his point further in.

"Shut up….Shut up!"The Father roared in denial.

"Oh, but that's not all… How could Linda ever love a man like you? You, who are but a crook wearing the clothes of a so called Holyman? Devoted to his faith? Please…" he pointed an accusing finger at the Father and then turned to address his followers before snorting in disgust for the man.

"This man is not who you believe him to be! He is a liar, a fraud, a deceiver, a thief and a criminal! No matter the things he may have told you about me, I guarantee you all that he has done worse to all of you! And you shall see the evidence to his crimes he has brought upon all and everyone in this town" he said, bringing his hand up and waving his finger towards one of his subordinates who passed him a satchel bag and he fished out one of the contents, a circular bottle filled with a clear liquid.

"This… this is the instrument to your slavery and the control he has over you all! This is what keeps you weak and blind to his lies!" he showed them the evidence of the tool that has enslaved the downtrodden. "Enslaving you all, indoctrinating you all to fulfil an impossible purpose that has nothing to do with commoners in mind. The Founders blessings he spoke of to you all were really intended for and favours the mages most of all in the end instead of the normal magicless commoners such as yourselves.

Open your eyes people! This man never promised anything to you, but to keep you all under the boots of Reconquista like the speck of dirt in the ground they all see you as! That is what we all mean to him and them! You owe him nor them a damn fucking thing because they certainly don't give a shit about any of you!" he pointed to every one of them, his words making a heavy impact on everybody listening.

The Father's followers were shaken, their minds in conflict with themselves. Some were fighting the temptation after hearing the truth behind the Father's treachery, but some were losing themselves to their needs for the water themselves, their minds telling them that they needed to be purified, to be loyal, to stay loyal to their faith.

The Leader of Terra held out his arms "But we do! I can see it in your eyes! You're desperate for more of this thing here in my hand, but you are trying so hard to fight it! Let me ask you all a question… what is more important to you all? Is it your addiction, views and devotion to a traditionalist faith that gives you nothing and sees you as nothing but blind dumb sheep? Or your family's and loved one's health, safety and survival for a brighter future?" The burned man asked them, to which they all lowered their weapons in befuddlement, So Zachary pressed the matter on further to dig the point deeper within their minds.

"The Father here wants to believe that we're evil. He's convinced himself that we are… sub-human, somehow making us out to be the villains in this story because of the changes, the food, money and the hope we have brought back with our quick and decisive actions into this town in just a day, whereas Reconquista and Father Timms had failed to do so ever since this civil war began. Where they promised and preached constantly to you all but ultimately failed in keeping their promises and oaths that they do not intend to keep and are incapable of upholding it because they do not care to try and help any of you but themselves.

We did not do this for our own greed as much as he proclaims, but because we must do this! We are not the selfish people with ulterior motives here, we have our own village that we must provide for and protect by ourselves too. You're not the only ones who are having it rough, but we will be the ones who'll try and make a damn good difference around here!" he finished before he reached into his satchel bag and picked out a fresh loaf of bread baguette and held it high in his right hand with the concoction in his left.

"So here's how it's going to be… I'm going to give you all a choice to choose from. In my left hand will be your loyalties and faith to your Father and Reconquista, the life that has given you nothing but lies, misfortune, endless pain and suffering. In my right will be an opportunity to be a part of something new where you will be the first in line to witness it's fruition and we will be the ones to fulfil our promises to the people. And I promise you this... this town, Hearth, shall survive the coming winter and the hardships and desperate times ahead!" He said holding in his right hand a fresh slice of a bread baguette with a spread of mayonnaise smothering the fluffy white side of the bread. "Choose now!" he ordered them to make their choices known.

The followers equally made noises of their hunger being apparent, they all held their stomachs and groaned weakly. They were almost tempted to accept the food offer, but… their repentance demands… no matter how tasty that bread looked with it's fresh toasty outer crust layer and the fluffy white texture within, not to mention that sauce he just put on the bread… they all wondered what that sauce was… was it delicious?

"Lily!?" Out of all of their curiosity, only one person… a starving little girl had willingly stepped out of the crowd of followers and approached the burned man, much to girl's father's horror and Timm's furious anger when the father of the said child who stepped out of line towards the offer the burned man was providing for them, and she was favouring the object in his right hand most of all.

"My Child! Stop what you are doing this instant and get back with your fellow brothers and sisters, now!" he demanded for the child to return back to her place along with the rest, a six year old starving girl who at first glance seemed like she was little more than a street urchin stumbled in her steps and shivered in her place in fear, but looked up towards the man with the dark clothing and the bandages covering the whole of his head.

He did look scary, but his eyes only showed kindness, warmth and concern for her…

"Mister… is there…enough for everyone?" she meekly asked the Burned man.

"There's enough to feed the whole town here." The burned man nodded with an eye smile as she crouched down and held his right arm outwards, offering her the bread. "Try it… oh, and the layer of sauce is called Mayonnaise. We invented it back in our village." he said, although he discreetly made a cough under his breathe.

"Child, if you dare accept his offer…?" the Father seethed out his warning of the consequences to her, but the child was now oblivious to the warnings as she accepted the bread offering and slowly took a bite of the bread. Her lifeless eyes soon lit up with reinvigorated life. Her eyes lit up like stars sparkling in the night sky, before a torrent of tears began pouring out and her lips beginning to tremble.

The burned man flinched in panic as he was face to face with the dilemma of a crying child. "Ah, crap! Was it bad!? It is, isn't it!? I knew I probably should've gone for the sweets…NO, that's doubly bad, worse even with how the way it would look!" he panicked as he started chastising himself comically under his breath.

"Mm-mm~!" But the girl only shook her head and blubbered out her response with her mouth full. "Ith Tastshss Sho Goood~!" she said with her mouth full as she wolfed down the bread to the point where her cheeks puffed up like a certain fish before swallowing.

The burned man smiled in relief before patting her on the head. "Slow down there, you're eating too fast." He said before providing a canteen of water before she accepted the water wholeheartedly with massive greedy gulps.

She let out a satisfied exhale after having her fill, and then she did a tiny burp of satisfaction before she covered her mouth.

"Sowwy~" she lowwered her head down apologetically.

The Burned man, the leader of Terra Nova, Zachary Crowshaw could only chuckle out humorlessly at this little girl's innocence and politeness. "Where I'm from, in certain places it is considered good manners, meaning that you were satisfied with the meal." He explained, although he wasn't being serious about it as it was technically true in some certain areas.

"Really?" she adorably tilted her head with a finger pressed to her lip in thought as Zachary could only chuckle silently to himself for his odd piece of knowledge he just shared with to an impressionable child.

He looked over to the crowd of followers and he could see that the effect of the child choosing the bread over the holy water had caused a domino effect on the followers as the reaction of said child cause them all to crave for the bread more than their addiction and faith to their Father and the Church. Their arms lowered and their weapons clattered on the ground, the situation had been diffused.

Zachary could only breathe a sigh in relief as he had successfully disarmed the whole entire situation. 'Perhaps it might not come to action sooner than I thought?' Zac thought with optimism and hope lingering in his mind, but it was not to be for much longer.

*!DANGER!*

*KILLING INTENT DETECTED!*

Zachary's instincts kicked in the moment he just noticed in the corner of his vision towards the followers that the Father in an act of stupidity, madness and callousness he drew out his wand secretly hidden within the spine of his book and drew it upon him. His words were quick and precise, it wasn't a big spell, hence why the chants were shortened, but just a quick and accurate spell to take out his intended target.

"Firebolt!" he roared out as a fire arrow shot out of the tip of his wand with speed and precision and power in mind, his target was unclear as one of his personnel who had a clear shot at the Father took the initiative to at least put a stop to his actions before he could land a killing blow. He fired his Sharps rifle, but the Father had fortunate dumb luck on his side as he conveniently moved his book closer to his heart and the thick book took most of the force of the round and exited out of the book where it just skimmed through the flesh of his shoulder where his stance had been knocked off and his accuracy was thrown right off course.

But Zachary didn't care to find out where the spell will land as he selflessly grabbed onto the child and shielded her from harm, moving her away from the brunt of the flames as his back faced the flames.

"Boss!" "Zachary-Sama!" All of his personnel cried out in horror for their leader until the fire spell struck the ground just a few metres away from them that lit up in an explosive fireball that rose up in the sky and sending bits of dirt and cobblestone pavement in the air.

After the flames and the smoke died down, the aftermath that Father Timms had hoped for was not what he wanted. The smoking charred remains and bits of limbs were still intact, only barely protected by his loyal subjects who rushed to his aid with tall shields now melted and burning from the heat, but the impact caused it to fall apart and the soldier with it, now unconscious from the force of the impact and badly burnt from the heat of the fire spell.

Behind him was their Leader who was on the ground, his body still shielding the girl who was mostly unharmed by the attack. He had taken the full brunt of the blast and had mostly came out of it unharmed, but the same can't be said for his left shoulder and the left side of his face that had been caught in the blast and had partially burnt them both of as the fire had melted through the coat that only left a tattered sleeve still smouldering from the heat. His bandaged face half burnt off where the remains of his bandages were torn apart and hung loosely whilst they also slowly burned away, revealing a glimpse of his scarred and burnt wounds upon his face.

"Tch!...Grrgh!" The Father spat out a mouth full of blood, but he knew he had him right where he wanted him. Whilst he was crawling in the dirt on his knees, he now had a chance at finishing off this blight for good. He was charging up his Foci with another attack until he felt the focus of his wand being cut off, literally.

He looked down and he saw that an arm with a black sleeve had landed by his feet, the blood staining his polished leather shoes… wait… arm? He looked the at his wand arm and to his horror he discovered that arm was but a bloody stump right up to his elbow had been severed by a machete from one of his followers, the father of said girl who defied him.

"M-my arm?… MY ARM!" he cried out in agony and shock he fell to his knees in agony, clutching the bloody stump.

He tried to muster up a glare of bloody daggers at the traitor who cut off his arm, but the words that came out of his mouth only ended with a whimper. "You traitor! You dare.. to defy… me… your… prophet to our Founder!?" he whimpered pathetically.

The father was in shock with what he had done as he stared long and hard at his machete, his fellow brother and sisters in arms were in the same position as they also were greatly surprised by his sudden action. It was only when he heard the difference in tone of the Father did he come to realise who this man really was. "You were… to… hurt my little girl… she's all I have left…" the father had the look of shock and then his eyes soon morphed into parental rage and anger. "You…You... We followed you… we believed in you for all this time… and for what!?" His eyes were soon pouring out tears of anguish and rising anger. "How could you!? We trusted you and you led us to kill our friends and family… it was you… you're the one who we should've stopped from the start… we… oh no… what have we done? After all this time, what've we been doing!?" the parent of the girl stumbled as his mind was in conflict with itself.

The Father could only look around in rising fear as he began to notice how the tables had begun to turn on him. His supporters loyalty soon begun to morph into anger and hatred for the man as their eyes were soon gone from the tainted disillusion that had been forced upon them "No…Nooo…It's not me…It's them… Terra Nova…It's their fault… they're the ones who you should be… angry at…not me" the Father whimpered as tears welled up in his eyes and his face pale from the agony he felt in his arm, his expression now morphed into fear and anxiousness as his followers all began to surround him, weapons back in hand. Their faces shadowed off their expressions, but their intent was very clear.

He lifted himself off the ground as he made attempted a mad dash in an attempt to escape.

*Bang!*

He felt his left knee cap exploding in pain as he felt it explode in a shower of gore and bone fragments, but he could only trip and land face first onto the cobblestone ground as it muffled his screams of agony, right by the feet of a man with smoking Peacekeeper revolver in hand whose hatred he could feel scathing into his skin from his glare alone.

He didn't dare look up, but as soon as he did… he could feel the thunder in the skies breaking into his heart as he looked into the piercing steel gaze of the burned man as the light from the flashes of lightening reflected off of the surface of his eyes.

The lightning exploded from out of the clouds once again… and then at last did the first few drops of rain landed on the frame of his glasses as the storm released the downpour onto the earth below.

The rain dampened the smouldering bandaged arm and coat sleeve as Zachary Crowshaw just ignored the rain and the burning pains altogether. His thumb fiddling with the cylinder of his Colt SAA Peacekeeper, admiring it's build and design, respecting it's built up legendary status over the years. "So… this is your answer?" The Burned man spoke, his glare ever hostile as he crouched down to him, eyes now slightly levelled with each other, boring into him like hot iron. "I brought bread… food for the starving masses, to help them, to stop this madness from happening as there was no need for bloodshed here. You could've just walked away, you should've done just that… but you won't, you couldn't… your pride and your loyalties reject our charities and our kindness because your so called faith and vanity won't let you as they demanded retribution, and how did you respond to my offering?... By mercilessly aiming in an attempt to kill me while an innocent child was in the crossfire. And you called me the monster." He shook his head in disgust for the man before he continued.

"Your hatred for me is noted, but I can't understand your reasoning as to why you would go to such lengths in your quest of hatred that you would kill anybody that would object against or even question your beliefs, to react so violently when you strongly believe that you are right. The same can be said of the reasons where the religious mages and clergymen like Reconquista and the Church who devout their lives in simply placing your Founder on a pedestal of godhood and follow his example thousands of years ago where even they don't even fully understand their Founder's mentality and reasoning behind his actions. Why your society would deify a powerful void mage, the first of his kind as a religious symbol akin to a god when he was really but a mortal man who died 6000 years ago is beyond me. The ideology by itself is something I find… unfathomable. You pray to him every day, for blessings, for fortune, for honour and glory… but the dead can't hear you, nor can they respond to you.

But happy are they to follow the will of their Founder and finish his work and ambition he sought out to do against the Elves, but why go to such lengths for something written on paper without hard concrete evidence that supports this? Because the Holy lands beyond the Sahara in natural belief to the most devoted of followers where they adamantly believe the Holy Lands belong to the Founder and his blessed people? It is a place where it is a natural temple and monument to his glory? Who's to say that's his real home? Was his actions truly just when your Lord and Founder entered the Holy lands he perceived as his home, where that he later found that in his eyes it was polluted by a different race that already inhabited it, an Elven race where they are viewed as nothing but arrogant and evil demons hell bent on destroying mankind as per what your religious texts describe the Elves are?

What were his actions then? Did he ask them to leave because he didn't like them? Did he cry when they rejected him? Did he simply walk away, to leave them be and move on with his life?

No…He attempted to drive them out with powerful magic he obtained from who knows where that was so powerful that he left thousands massacred in cold blood for reasons unknown to many… It could've been fear, could've been jealousy, could've been hatred or it could've been a just cause… we'll never know.

Reconquista may have the same idea in common, uniting the land of all humans under one banner and declaring an all-out holy war against the Elves, yet how can they truly unite all of humanity when you and the rest of Reconquista are turning everyone against their own and subjugating the weak and powerless under your thumbs like tyrants.

Brimir also stated in his will that the Mages are supposed to be the protectors, not the betters… I don't really understand as to why anyone would promote that particular ideal that the common people should stay quiet and follow their masters and their betters obediently like loyal slaves where they are their own free people, they should lead their lives as they see fit.

We should thank you for this. For your gross misconduct has almost costed the people their homes and their lives by your treacherous actions that has costed you today and has led you here, betraying yourself and have betrayed the people of Hearth, but at this very moment it has given us a renewed sense of purpose and a finely tempered resolve in the fires of adversity. Our will is forged anew." He said when he began circling around the Preacher.

"I now understand why I am here, why should I have been afraid of this very moment when I knew it was coming." He said when he lowered his head and looked directly at him square in the eyes. "You wanted war, Father? Then you've got a fucking war coming for you, all of you …and it will be more than what you've bargained for" Zachary smiled with a malicious grin behind scorched bandages that was partially visible as spoke down to him as he continued examining his Revolver.

"Blasphemy… you're a madman… you would… declare war on us all!? On your betters? We started this for the best intentions for us all and we deserve our res-"

*Bang!*

"Arrrgh!" the mad preacher cried out as an unamused Zacchary shot his other kneecap.

Zachary only looked at him blankly, unimpressed by his statement "Oh, I'm sorry about that. Didn't mean to break your concentration, but please… if you would continue? You were currently on something about… good intentions for all?"

"W-what" he stammered.

"What are Reconquista's Intentions for this country?"

"Wh-what I…?" The father stammered further as his face was trembling from the pain of having a bullet shot through both of his kneecaps

"You were speaking of good intentions for us all, right!? What, are you going to speak for the rights of everyman!?… Or perhaps I should say, of one man? Who is this person, Father? And why is this person more important than the rest? Why should the needs and these good intentions go towards the privileged and blessed few rather than the many?"

"The… Founder… wills it…" he managed to breathe out, his words losing strength behind them.

Zachary could only snort derisively as he sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. "So that's your answer for everything? You just simply sweep aside the matter and cannot answer honestly for yourself and then say everything is run on the will of a six thousand year old dead man… You say you're a follower of the foundation for years, Father? You read that book a lot?" Zachary pointed to his shredded version of the bible that one of his Personnel had shot a huge round into.

He nodded shakily with sweat and rain pouring down into his brows, fear gripping him as he was too afraid to speak as he noticed more of his Personnel coming to the sides of their leader. Their gazes were cold, ruthless and malicious… a terrifying sight he had ever seen on a human being, if he could call them that.

"Well… I have this passage that I know from this book similar to yours and I wanted to share with you that you won't find in your book here. It goes something a little like this…" he said before clearing his throat "The path of the righteous man is beset on all sides by the inequities of the selfish and the tyranny of evil men. Bless it is he who in the name of charity and good will, shepherds the weak through the valley of darkness for he is truly his brother's keeper and the finder of lost children. And I will strike down upon thee with great vengeance and furious anger of those who attempt to poison and destroy my brothers and sisters." He circled around the Father as more and more Personnel were beginning to surround the Father, firearms in hand and Zachary turned to face his front with his revolver in hand now pointing at him. He listened to the passage intently, it sounded almost like something he would read out of a passage in his book, but he knew that there was no such passage in the book even though it sounded like it was.

"And you will know my name is the lord, when I lay my vengeance upon thee!"

"NOOO!" The Father tried to protect himself when he tried to make a dive for his wand, only to get struck down by a barrage of bullets coming in from multiple directions from in front of him and on the rooftops. He was shot at least over 30 times where the final bullet struck might between the eyes that launched him on his back and into a muddy puddle of water that built up from the rain, turning it into a shallow pool of red.

At that moment, everybody witnessed the justice that Zachary Crowshaw enacted that night. The rain suddenly got heavier and the storm grew louder when the body of the Father crashed down into the ground. What everybody didn't realise was that as this was happening, they were unaware that they just witnessed a declaration of war in the making.

The smouldering patches that were slowly burning away his bandages and his shoulder sleeve of his coat were eventually being extinguished but left a smoking trail from the burned materials.

His eyes looked up at the group of Followers, eyes cold and sharp as steel, burning with silent fury and intent. He observed closely on all of them, watching them… waiting for any signs of movement. The indoctrinated and controlled victims of the Father may have been freed, but he knew that there will still be a lingering influence from the Father that will fester within their minds if it's not dealt with ASAP.

The effects from the Repentance may have worn off, but he knew that it will not be easy as one man within the crowd was becoming jittery. It had been several hours since he last took his Repentance, but in his mind he was trying to fight it as his hunger instincts and his needs to be fed were trying to win over his desire for the concoction.

Dark whispers were being murmured inside his head, the Father was most disappointed in him… Brimir was disappointed… you must Repent…Repent!... Repent! ….Repent! ..Repent! Repent! Repent! Repent! Repent! Repent! Repent! Repent! Repent! Repent!... Strike down the non-believers!… Execute the heretics!… Purge the demons!… Kill the Burned man! Repent and serve!

His hand gripped tightly on his hatchet… and in his head he eventually slipped from his control and he then obeyed the will of the Father and to an extent the Founder.

"Yes…Father" he muttered, barely heard by one of his less affected Brothers who turned to face him. He was too late to notice that his control had slipped and was then grabbed by his shoulder as a hatchet had been raised…

"Stop him!" The Burned man tried to stop him but it was too late as he swung the hatchet down to meet the neck of it's victim.

*Bang!*

A gunshot echoed throughout the street as Misaki had discharged a round into the head of the hatchet, forcing the brainwashed follower to drop the weapon. Two personnel then tackled him to the ground and restrained him. The Poor man was thrashing about, spitting out incoherent phrases and verses, mutterings of apologies and begging for forgiveness towards the Father and the Founder.

Zachary observed the man closely and intently, watching this man suffer from some sort of after effect or an effect from withdrawal. Stray from the path, and the voices will be louder until you obey.

"Zachary-Sama" Misaki addressed him. "The man's unstable, he's lost it. We've eliminated the source of their indoctrination, but not from the source of their influence. Every follower is cursed by it, and It will not be long before they will all lash out. They wouldn't even be themselves if they turned. What should we do with them, Boss? "Misaki eyed all of the followers wearily with a steady finger on the trigger, waiting for any signs of hostile aggression.

Zachary then turned his gaze from Misaki and then towards the Followers who were rooted in the spot from their fear. They were afraid that they will be executed for their involvements with the father and for the actions of the man who had almost murdered one of their own.

Zachary knew that all of them were suffering from the after effects of the influence that the Father had on all of them, but he couldn't in his heart just execute them in cold blood. Zachary shook his head in response.

"No, I won't kill them... They can be helped. We will help them recover from this. Besides, I promised to feed them, didn't I?" he said with honest intentions and a disarming smile on his face that alleviated them of their fears with relief.

"However, I'm afraid that we must keep you all restrained and quarantined away from everybody else. The effects of his influence are still present in your minds. Help will be coming soon and you will get treatment from our best doctors." He announced to them all as the previous loyal followers of Father Timms were filled with something that they hadn't felt in a long time… hope and gratitude.

They were then escorted inside of the tavern under heavy guard and watch as they were seated at tables where they will be cuffed and rooted to the tables and chairs while they were fed with warm nutritious meals and water as several guards of the Inn will provide surveillance over each and every one of them. The effects of their Repentance had lost a significant hold on their minds, but pockets of remnants still remained and lingered within their minds.

As soon as they were all seated, Zachary left them all to it as they were starting to break down crying, they had long forgotten the last time they were properly fed, the only time where food and water tasted as if it was like it were made for nobility and royalty in mind, they didn't even feel as if they were worthy in eating the food that was given to them, but their kind and generous hosts insisted that they eat up.

Zachary left the INN with his entourage following close by as the storm was refusing to let up outside. The people soon left in a hurry to get home, a warning for them as they soon realised the events that were to come. they realised that their saviours were soon to become their conquerors.

"Boss, you're hurt…" Misaki spoke up in concern as his face and arts of his shoulder was revealed. The sleeve of his left shoulder and arm was in tatters, and the intricate wrappings of his bandages were left draping against his shoulder fluttering against the wind as well as being soaked in the pouring rain.

Zachary however ignored it all "I'm fine… there's nothing that hasn't been burnt already."

"We need to tend to your wounds straight away!" Misaki objected

"No!...We continue on with the plan! We finish the fight that they have started, tonight!" Zachary turned around to face Misaki with a stern, but furious and commanding glare that had silenced Misaki in her spot and made her shudder within herself at such a commanding presence… she felt herself get quite worked up by it.

"Have they arrived yet?"

"They've received our message a while ago, they will be arriving at the west gate and north gate shortly. We sent a team to dispatch the guards at the north gate so they can pass on without interference."

Zachary nodded in acknowledgement. "Good… listen up, here's what we will do…"

The Guards over at the North Gate were having a miserable shift, they were all huddled up together under the gate's archway for some shelter, a makeshift fire being set up to keep them warm and were struggling to keep the fire alive due to the heavy rain and wind.

"Fuck! It's gone out again, the woods too damp!" a guard cursed as the fire died out.

"Bah!... Told you to place it in a better spot than here, now the rain's ruined it because of the wind that's blowing right through 'ere"

"Ahh, shut it ya Prick!"

"The fuck are we doing out here anyway? It's not like anybody's gonna come into town in this storm?" one of the guardsmen complained gruffly.

"Orders are orders, newbie. We were told to stand here and look pretty and to monitor any traffic coming into town as well as to collect the taxes from incoming merchants that wish to trade here. We also need to be keeping an eye out for intruders, especially spies. Besides, I bet that the hunting party out there is having a tougher time than we are." The guard snorted as he just laughed unsympathetically to himself.

"Who exactly are they trying to look for?"

"You haven't heard? The Count was murdered yesterday, there's a whole manhunt going on around the Livingston owned lands in an attempt to find the perpetrators who murdered him and his party. It was meant to be kept quiet but it really wasn't that much of a well-kept secret amongst the guards."

"Shit… really?"

"Yeah, they sent at least 1500 men out there out of the 2000 that were stationed in the garrison, meaning that us guards have to pick up the pace for all of the men that were sent out of town."

"Damn, better be getting payed double for this."

*Snort!* "What makes you think we are?"

"Then why are we here then?"

"Do you really want to question our orders in the face of our new lord of this town?" The guard raised a brow at that question where his fellow guard winced uncomfortably and then grumbled in response as he stayed quiet on the matter.

Not a few moments later, one of the guards was looking outside of the glare and into the distance. Unsurprisingly it was pitching black out there, he couldn't see a thing. He couldn't even see half a mile down the road of any traffic.

Suddenly, he felt something rumble, rumbling that was coming from the ground and not the sky. "Shh! Do you hear that?"

"…Probably just the storm." One of the guards shrugged in response.

"No… I can hear something out there."

"…Now that you mention it, I can definitely hear something." The fellow guard said as he stood up and looked out of the gate of where he heard the noise come from.

It was no until the sky lit up with a flash of lightening did it lit up the horizon for a brief second did he spot the unmistakable forms of a mass cavalry charge that was escorting a convoy of wagons and their special deliveries.

The guard's eyes widened in shock and alarm and turned around to face his colleagues "Enemy attack! Raise the alarm and shut the gates no-"he tried to finish his sentence until he got silenced by a knife slitting his throat. What he came face to face with was a hooded man with a six inch blade drenched in his blood that had sliced open his throat with just a quick slash before he slowly collapsed on his knees he then witnessed that all of his mate that were on guard duty were also in the same position as they too had been dealt with, they didn't want to be discovered yet, so they had to eliminate anyone that were to be troublesome but some were kept alive but muffled. The hooded man then just prodded him as he collapsed onto the wet floor with a splash.

The hooded attacker looked out towards the gateway and waved towards the oncoming convoy. Two men and a woman on horseback approached the hooded man.

These units were the newest of their Master's personnel of elite espionage, assassination and sabotage units. They were recognised form their distinctive armours, cloaks and hoods yet they all differed from one another but all served the same purpose, to Allows one to stalk their prey unannounced, by the cover of night as they were dressed in a Pitch-black Hunter's attire and armour (Bloodborne: Hunter's armour).

"You're late!" the hooded man spoke.

"The Weather was a bitch to get through and the Traffic was bad, had to deal with them first." The leading male Personnel explained in his cold gravelly voice behind a black facemask.

"What traffic?"

"We bumped into one of the search parties that were camping near the road that led into town… they were in the way." He simply spoke as if getting rid of a mere pest.

"None escaped?" the hooded man asked of them, to which they replied with a shake of the head as a 'No'

"Did you bring everything that the Boss requested?"

"Yes, everything is accounted for." He nodded over to the wagons and the artillery pieces that were being towed behind the horses. Artillery pieces such as Hotchkiss 2 pounder 45mm and the 9 cm Kanone C/73 90mm breech loaded artillery pieces that were capable of using a modernised metallic canister like shells based upon the research of modern cartridges that was done on the Ak-47s 7.62×39mm round.

The hooded ranger nodded. "All artillery pieces are accounted for… And what of the weapons and the other ordnances and special projects that were ordered to be sent to the designated spot?"

"The weapons are here as promised" The ranger was then led to one of the wagons where a crate was being unloaded as one of the personnel pried it open with a crowbar. Inside the crates were the new and improved weapons, Martini Henry service rifles with detachable bayonets. In another crate were the new revolvers, Lever Action rifles, Bolt action rifles, and Sticks of TNT shoved into a waterproof satchel bag as well as another form of explosive that can be described as an early form of grenade but with a stick inserted into the black ball with fins sticking out of the ends like a rocket ball toy, The Ketchum grenade.

"The other support and special projects were sent elsewhere…The Boss says he has it covered."

The ranger nodded as he also accounted for the ammunition, Artillery shells and many supplies that they will need for their operation. Another wagon arrived, this time carrying multiple personnel that were heavily armed. And more cavalry personnel arrived on horseback wearing waterproof hooded cloaks.

The Hunter nodded and addressed the leaders of the Assault team of 400 personnel arriving at the North Gate. "You've been given your orders by the boss, you know what do?"

They all nodded. "Once you've finished with your task, head on over to your secondary objective where the Boss will be currently at. You have your orders, now move out!"

They all nodded and he turned to his personnel and called for the charge ahead further into town towards their objective. The hooves of the heavy cavalry thundered down the road, the curious townspeople stayed within the safety of their own homes but were peering out of their doors and windows. Anxious at the sight of soldiers invading their town, yet they never attacked a single person in their sight, nor did they run them over.

In the direction the cavalry were going, their intended target would be Nellis MCcoy and his trading company. While the infantry personnel on foot were heading in a different direction as they had scores to settle for the Boss.

Inside the town's garrison that mainly houses the guardsmen, several guards that were meant to be on duty were having a quiet night in around a table gambling their income away.

"Did you hear, two grunts from our division just got flogged to death a few hours ago."

"Shit, really? Whatever the fuck for?"

"Fucking with one of the pure maiden wenches that were promised to the new lord of Hearth, I shit you not" the guard who betted high, snorted. "Raise ya, 500 Sterling"

"Bollocks, I'm out." one of the guards cursed as he through his cards down as he lost his nerve.

"Same here, shit hand."

"Che, bunch of pansies." Another guard sneered as he eyed his hand and on the cards on the table. He smirked as he suddenly pushed forward all of his money forward to snare a few suckers in. "All in."

"Oh, you prick…fold" and now there was one left.

They both had a stare down until his opponent just calmly flipped his cards around to show that he won a Royal flush.

"Fuck!" he slammed his hand down in fury to reveal he had quad aces.

"Ohh!~ Unlucky, son… maybe next time" his opponent chuckled, but was genuinely impressed by his hand.

"Fuck… if we weren't such good mates, I would've called you out for cheating me."

"Hah, look who's talking!" his opponent laughed as they both shared a good laugh.

But the shared moment of banter was soon interrupted as the door soon opened to let in a cold draft of wind. The guardsmen all cursed and shivered at the cold and wet draft that blasted through the doorway. Cards were blown everywhere that only served to annoy and aggravate the guardsmen who were playing.

"Hey! Shut the door, you Idiot!" one of them with his back facing the door turned to face the idiot who opened the door all the way, only to pause in his rant when they saw a dark shadow figure wearing a dark attire with a cape hooked around his shoulders and a withered hat and a black facemask disguising his face (Bloodborne: Hunter Armour set).

"What the-?" the guardsman was about to drawl out the word until the dark hunter whipped out a sawn off shotgun from within his coat that took him by surprise as the Hunter blasted both of the Shotgun's barrels into the man's face off as chunks of the guardsman's skull scattered all over the place and even hitting his friends and colleague as the guardsman was launched onto the table, collapsing it from underneath him. The Hunter then grabbed a small satchel bag from his side and snatched out a ring that was attached to a thread before tugging off the thread with a pinging sound and threw it inside the room and ran out before closing the door behind him just before they could get a moment to recover from their shock and retaliate.

*BOOM!*

The resulting explosion took out nearly a quarter of the living quarters and the room where the bomb had been thrown that interrupted the cards game being played. One survivor had managed to stand up on his own two feet, but was barely conscious and staggering all over the place. The wind that and rain was now making its own entry into the damaged garrison where the hole was situated.

The guard staggered over to the hole, unaware of what he was doing as he couldn't hear or feel a thing that was going on with his body, nor could he feel the blood pooling down the left side of his face and the fact that his left arm was missing.

As soon as he stepped one foot out of the hole in the wall and the semi collapsed ceiling and roof above it, he looked up and was soon face to face with the same person who had threw the bomb inside of the room who had placed his gloved hand upon his shoulder, only this time he was joined with several others who wore similar if not the same outfits but with different alterations to them.

A brief moment of a flash of lightning, followed by thunder lit up the area that made him wince as he looked directly into their cold, shadowy gazes. His hearing had just briefly returned only to hear them ask him a question.

"Captain Horace…is he in?" the stranger asked in a low gravelly voice.

The guard was still dazed and confused from the explosion, but he was able to comprehend the question being asked with a simple shake of the head. "Errrgh…he's…there…with McCoy…business…job" He murmured, addled out of his mind whilst pointing in the direction of McCoy's Trading Company.

"I see…thanks" the leading hunter nodded and then whipped out a cleaver like blade that snapped open into an extended version and cut his head clean off the body.

What shall we do here?" A female Hunter questioned.

"Clean up here, and then we'll go and re-join the others." The leader clarified before the rest of the Hunters complied before they all went to work as they all withdrew their twin black revolvers with knife bayonets extending outwards from underneath the barrels of the guns that were attached underneath and then rushed the building with such speed and grace that was befitting of a lethal Hunter.

For but a brief few moments, nobody outside of the garrison could hear them scream over the sound of the raging storm, nor could anybody hear from the chaos that was erupting inside of the town.

Guards were soon picked off left and right, not a word had been sent to warn the others or any notable people, not the captain, not the lord of the town nor any of the other nobles who were currently in town.

While the garrison was being seized, elsewhere there were several more platoons circling around the streets either on foot or on horseback, armed with the latest weaponry and uniform and armour for the night assault on the town. Pitch black hooded coats that were more akin to Wild West Duster or trench coats for the wind and rain, black face masks to hide their faces (Not like it was necessary) and reinforced brigandine vests with steel plates fitted inside of the pouches that protects their torso, back and their sides . Their weapons were updated to suit the demand of a faster pace of combat that involves gun slinging, shooting on horseback or shooting long distances accurately whilst always prepared for CQC combat.

Zachary had only planned on using force if there was no other choice, if either of the four likeliest people were to attack him directly or force his hand, then he will give the word for the rest of his hidden assault force to siege the town itself, giving orders to strong-arm the town away from the Noble's hold and into his welcoming arms.

Two platoons were sent to encircle he city, crushing any sings of resistance along the way, whether it be a wandering guardsman on foot with a spear plunged through his chest cavity and then being dragged along for the ride and then thrown off into an empty market stool.

Another platoon was sent to do the same as the others, but they were sent down the middle through town, down the main central road to seize the town square in the middle of the town whilst they made their way up to seize the upper class districts and the trading company and wrestle it out of McCoy's control. And lastly, the final Platoon would link up with their leader's platoon and assault the Livingston Estate located on the outskirts of town.

Under the cover of darkness and the raging storm, it turned out that facing the elements were more of a challenge than expecting any signs of resistance from the town's militiamen. The wind and the rain kept their enemies indoors whilst Zachary's personnel went to work on the town's capture.

What little resistance they did find, they were sorely disappointed. The Town's guardsmen were but little more than poorly trained National Guardsmen and/or Territorial Army reservists, instead they were but a hastily trained militia force rushed through training with a weapon and armour thrown on them and shoved into the field where their masters pointed at them where to go with little direction, instruction or motivation.

They were not loyal, nor were they inspired to join out of some sense of duty, ambition or pride in their country or their lords or some other patriotic reason, but was mainly out of necessity and desperation. For what other reason is there would a poor man join the town's guardsmen serving under their lord or Reconquista's own military force?

The answer to that was Money, a paying job to at least put money in their own pockets to survive or to feed their own families that were in desperate need, or maybe some other selfish reason.

Zachary knew about this as he had been informed about the poor morale and discipline that infested their ranks. He knew that if they were to see a well organised and coordinated task force, pointing advanced weapons at them and demanding for their surrender, a majority of them will do it in a heartbeat. However, there will still be some cases where some would perform their job quite adequately and engage them as what their duties demand of them, but there was nothing he could do about that as it would be on them to find out how badly outclassed they were.

With most of the garrisoned soldiers that were the Livingston's own private forces sent out to find the perpetrator's in the late Count Livingston's brutal murder. The remaining forces were merely scraped together commoners with barely any training to hold the town under any siege, even if they were aware of it or prepared for it or not.

The only threats worth noting were the local aristocrats that were encountered along the way, they were easily recognisable form their frivolous, gaudy and expensive outfits that were akin to 16th / 17th century English Tudor noble clothes. There were some incidents that occurred when a random squad of Personnel would run into them on the streets where they were either trying to get home or taking shelter from the rain.

After dealing with the Joke that had been the town's Guardsmen, they shifted their attention on hunting down mages and nobles that were suspected to be Reconquista dogs. They would first surround them, weapons raised and pointed directly at them in a threatening manner and order them by shouting at them to not move or do anything stupid.

Most of the nobles were in shock at the sheer audacity that they were being held at gunpoint, but they were more aghast by the way they were being addressed than the situation at hand. After spending many comfortable years in blissful ignorance, even more so under Reconquista's rule, they were simply unaware of such hostility that was being harboured against them.

Whilst they were still in shock or were about to splutter out their undignified offence, demands or even insults at them, they were quickly silenced when they were tackled to the ground and manhandled and restrained whilst they found themselves being bounded by tight constrictive rope. If anything that could be used as a weapon were to be found, magic or not, they would then be confiscated off of them and were then sent on their way to an undisclosed location, bound and gagged. If they were to be uncooperative or even continue resisting, they were given permission to rough them up a little and of course threaten them with harsher consequences if they were to continue being uncooperative.

There were of course some pockets of resistance with the noble mages where a small number of the nobles who were not stupid enough to be stupefied by commoners pointing firearms at them or were made aware of the ensuing siege that was happening all across the city just recently. Mostly it had been nobles who were offended and livid at the blatant disrespect that was present among the armed uniformed men and were drawing out their wands to punish the insolent commoners, whereas the more intelligent mages mainly reacted in self-defence towards the threat of uniformed and organised men moving about a town where they were clearly armed and dangerous looking to be causing trouble.

The ones who resisted were met with the same fates where their reasons being were that they all thought that after a small display of magic with a dramatic effect an flare that would've cowed them enough into submission like it would've always worked every time with any other plebeian to send them running or beg for mercy, maybe even kill a commoner or two just to teach them some manners and a lesson for acting against their betters.

However, they were simply made unaware of the fact that these were no mere commoners who were fazed by their presences nor did they fear them for their titles and names as well as their superiority in their magic. Depending on the circumstances, some mages were lucky enough to cast a magic spell and catch a few of them off guard and even managing to severely wound some of them or maybe even kill one or a few, but most mages were not quick enough to draw their wand and speak the magic chants or gather enough willpower fast enough by the time the personnel had already lined up their shots and mercilessly gunned them down. Few cases were reported where the personnel spared a few by disarming them of their weapon by shooting at their hand or wounding them in other non-lethal areas so that they wouldn't try and resist further or try and escape or maybe even grovelling pathetically at their feet.

The siege of Hearth wouldn't really be called a battle at all or even considered as one. The only battles worth noting were the siege of McCoy's trading Headquarters and the Livingston's estate.

(McCoy's Trading Company)

"What do you mean you've come up with nothing!? I've paid you enough money to search for anything we can use against them and you dare show your face hear with nothing!?"Nellis McCoy spluttered in fury.

"If you'd let me finish then I'll explain why it's now out of my hands." Horace could only roll his eyes.

McCoy scoffed before he demanded for him to explain.

"You heard those bells, right?"

"Yes, what of it!?" McCoy nodded.

"I've heard rumours that the old mad preacher had encountered this Crowshaw just outside of his Church's doors. Predictably, he immediately hated him right there and then, probably offended him somehow…I don't know." Horace explained.

McCoy's eyes had widened in alarm as he came to realise something. "Damn him! He's gone and ordered a purge upon him!"

"Isn't that a good thing? He's doing you a favour, right?"

"Wrong! That maniac, Timms, will destroy everything that is related to him. When he orders a purge, he'll stop at nothing until every trace of his victim is erased from this town. That means I will never get my hands on those exquisite goods of his nor his contracts!" McCoy ranted as he further whined about how much he had lost during the day and how much they had humiliated him.

Horace on the other hand didn't care in the slightest. Like any other typical thug, he was only interested in getting paid. "Right~?…so, about the payment?" he said as he held his hand out expectantly.

Nellis glared at him for his dismissal of the topic and for his cheek in asking for his payment. "I'm not paying you a fucking copper until you get me what I want!" Nellis smacked his hand away.

Horace however glared right back. "That's not what we agreed upon, you cheat!"

"How dare you! I am a respectable business man as well as a Baron! I outrank you, you devious cur! And I will not be told off by some upstart pleb who came from the shit and mud in some backwater farmhouse from Brimir knows where! If it weren't for the fact that you've still got uses, I'd have gotten rid of you a long time ago, so don't push your luck with me!"

Horace would've spat out more insults towards his boss but he had to hold in his tongue as he didn't want to push his luck, especially with how intolerant Nobles are.

Horace was about to hear another earful of the Manager's complaints until they heard a loud bang that shook the entire room.

"Wh-What was that!?" Nellis panicked as he gripped onto his desk. "Horace, go investigate!"

Horace did so without complaint and rushed out the door that was McCoys office.

When he left the office and down the corridor that led down to the main foyer, he suddenly froze when he began hearing more loud noises such as multiple gunshots, shouts and screaming.

*Bang!*

"Everybody on the floor, now!"

"Do not try anything stupid and for fuck's sake don't try and act the hero."

Horace scrunched up his brow and rushed forward to see what the commotion was as he reaches the first floor banister that was overlooking the main foyer and what he saw had surprised him. Multiple armed men had stormed the building where all of them were heavily armed and dressed in black apparels that hid them well in dark shadowed areas, especially in the night and during this storm.

He looked over the area and spotted several private guardsmen under Nellis's employ were on the floor surrendered or shot dead. They didn't stand a chance as they were up against firearms, ones that looked rather odd. Too short to be a normal musket or a pistol, but clearly this was some sort of advanced contraption that allowed it to shoot more rounds before reloading. There were only a few who had surrendered before them. Horace saw this as a smart move as he saw what happened to one dumb move from a guard who attempted to shove a dagger into the boot of one nearby enemy, only to get a round in the head that burst his head like a glass bottle filled with water. McCoy however would've seen this as cowardice and demanded for him to fight back anyways to protect his investments and company with his life.

Whatever this was, he had to get back to the room and inform his boss of what was occurring as he had just been spotted by one of the hooded personnel who ordered for him to stop right where he was before shooting a round just above his head as he made a dash for it.

He reached the Manager's office safely where Nellis was currently inside waiting for him anxiously as he stood by a bookcase, currently fiddling with some books in the bookcase whilst mumbling something.

He turned to Horace with a semi panicked expression that made Horace inwardly revel in his dismay. "Well!?" he ordered for an explanation.

"I haven't a fucking clue on what's happening down there, but I think you've got a heist on your hands, and I can tell that's it's not the Royalists." Horace explained with a neutral look on his face, hiding the fact that he was getting increasingly anxious and he knew that they would be closing in on him pretty fast.

Nellis gritted his teeth "If it's not them, then who!?" upset about the fact that his company had been hit by some random upstarts. Who dared to make an enemy of him.

"I suspect that it could be that Crowshaw character you've been raving on about, as I can tell that there weren't any mages down there, only commoners with these strange muskets. It seems you've pissed him off somehow" Horace explained.

"Him!?" McCoy choked in shock and horror at the revelation "It can't be, how did they beat my guards!? Some of them were mages!" he said as gritted his teeth in humiliation as he came to realise that Zachary Crowshaw was a threat that he never saw coming and underestimated

"From what I've seen, they had these firearms that can shoot more than once. It's not magic as it looked rather new and more advanced than any musket I've seen." Horace explained and described the look of the weapons he saw.

Nellis would've argued against that logic but he had finally cracked through the bookcase as he unlocked a secret passage for him to escape through the bookcase after he activated the right rune.

Horace sighed in relief as he was slightly grateful that his boss had been prepared in setting up a secret escape passage that would lead out of the building.

"Oh, thank Brimir you have an escape route." He was then cut off as Nellis had rushed inside of the bookcase and closed it behind him with a click and a clunk, the door was locked and with him locked out

Horace blinked once, twice, thrice…. And then his face morphed into a great panic and rage as he rushed over to the book case and tried to force it open, but with his own strength the bookcase refused to budge as he discovered that the Bookcase was reinforced with magic runes. "Oi! Nellis! NGH! Come on, this isn't funny! Open the fucking door!" he roared as ripped off a book shelf and stumbled backwards.

He roared as he chucked the bookshelf at the desk that smashed through his magic desk lamp "You cowardly bastard, McCoy! I'll kill you! I'll fucking find you and gut you if they don't find you first, you fat greasy haired cuntbag! You'll rue the day when you crossed me! If it weren't for me doing your dirty work then you and your trading company would've been nothing! You owe me!" he roared as he banged on the bookcase with his heavy fist.

He was then cut off when the doors were suddenly kicked open and a squad of armed soldier's swarmed into the room, weapons raised and ordering for his surrender.

Horace was almost tempted to fight back as all he had to do was reach for his pistol from it's holster and shoot, but he wasn't a complete idiot as he knew he was outnumbered and outgunned, but he didn't want to die nor surrender to some unknown upstarts

He thought long and hard before he spat out a curse and threw his hand up in the air and fell to his knees and surrendered himself.

One of the Personnel stepped forward, a soldier who was a little bit taller than him and more heavily muscled than what he had going on. His stoic but steely gaze bore right through him as his hand gripped onto his jaw with a surprising amount of strength in his grip.

"Where is he? Nellis McCoy?" he asked in some weird deep accent he had never heard of.

Horace winced at his grip that held his skull firmly like a vice, but he answered honestly anyways as his loyalty to the bastard that abandoned him didn't matter anymore as his contract was now null and void. "Che!...You just missed him…slippery fat bastard had an escape route set up through his bookcase there... You won't be able to get through as its reinforced with magic and can only be activated through his magic" he answered.

The black garbed soldier looked up at the bookcase and back to Horace before he nodded towards several squad mates who approached him with a sack before another hit him clean in the face with a rifle butt, knocking him unconscious.

A company of soldiers were currently marching on their way to storm the house on the hill while the operation was currently underway to seize of the town from Reconquista's hold, so far no alarm had been set off which was good and the enemy as none the wiser. There was no natural light in this town so they wouldn't be able to notice all of the chaos happening, maybe some, but not during this storm.

Zachary's forces were all on horseback along the way there, all of his trusted personnel that joined him in previous conflicts were with him. Weapons updated and fully loaded and armours equipped for the upcoming conflict.

Zachary was currently on a hill overlooking all of Hearth as he was waiting for the signal from each platoon. The first two platoons signalled him via lanterns, using Morse code on the gate towers in the north, south, east and west. The whole town had been successfully cut off, nobody gets in or out as he ordered them to seal off the whole town and hold their positions on each gate.

The other two platoons he had sent to assault the Garrison and the Trade Company were well underway as their signal was the controlled explosions used to breach the buildings and capture or eliminate their targets.

Misaki noticed that everything was in place and ready to go as she turned to face her Master on her horse. "Everything is ready, Master…Shall we proceed?" Misaki said as she pulled out a flare gun and prepared it for firing.

Zachary was silent at first as he turned his head in the direction of the Livingston estate, a brief flash of lightning lit up the sky that revealed it's entire structure in the distance. "Tell the artillery crews they are clear to proceed… tell everyone to prepare for the Creeping Barrage" Zachary ordered as Misaki nodded and fired the flare in the air.

As soon as the flare had been fired, all eyes turned towards the town and the forests nearby.

Then…the forests and the town soon lit up in a fantastic light display of muzzle flashes that roared louder than the storm that boomed above their heads. The night sky soon lit up in a fantastic light show as white streaks soared through the sky above the town as multiple artillery shells flew overhead and towards their designated targets.

Every person in the town peered out of their windows, doors and their homes and gazed up at the sky in bewilderment, shock and rising anxiousness as they heard the harsh whistling of the shells flying overhead. They winced again as they heard the cannon fires that had quickly reloaded their shots, far quicker than to what they were used to.

Zachary watched the light show before summoning his Kalashnikov assault rifle and held it by his side. "As soon as the bombardment is over, we will storm the house! Find the lord of the manor and take him alive or dead. Spare those who are unable to fight or have surrendered, but take out any who resist!" Zachary called out over the harsh whistling of the artillery shells as they had already reached their targets and bombarded the front garden and the gate and fence surrounding the house, creating a huge gap for them to cross through. The gardens would then be the next one to be eviscerated by artillery fire as plants, garden furniture and trees were blasted apart. Guards were sent in a panic as they were caught right in the middle of it and they had no cover.

As the barrage then began to press on forwards towards the house where a few stray rounds would diverge off course and hit the house until the barrage finally stopped just in front of the Manor house, sparing its complete total destruction.

It was through the following silence when the artillery fire ceased before he gave the order as he raised his assault up above his head. "GO!" He called out to his troops that have now been gathered up in the hundreds. His personnel all roared in unison, their battle cry loud and furious as it could be heard in the town nearby and in the Estate up ahead.

Zachary grinned maliciously as he kicked the sides of his horse and took off in a mad dash towards the estate with his rifle pointed forward as he gave the command to charge as he led the cavalry charge forwards whilst the infantry followed up from behind. Their pace was swift and their voices loud. Their firearms were hot and their blades sharp.

It was time to end this.

(Present)

Douglas had finally recovered enough to at least stand on two legs, albeit he stumbled after a few shaky step forward to prop himself up on the wall to overlook the entire courtyard and the Estate gardens

He noticed that the wind and rain had eased up, but that involved another problem as a shroud of smoke covered the entire area, blocking his view of the front gates and the town in the distance. Douglas was shocked as he took in the entire destruction of the entire Livingston Property. Hundreds of holes and craters had been dug up from the barrage, many bodies lay in them and scattered all over the place, most of them being the guards and hired mages hired under the count's pay who were ordered to patrol the estate on orders by the young Count where he had also ordered for double the amount of guards to protect his life as he feared that his father's murderers may come for him next. Judging by the screaming and paranoid ramblings the young count was making in his room as he changed into his untested battle armour, he certainly believes it to be the case.

As the young heir came marching out of his room in his armour, an expensive set of armour made that looked as if it was forged from pure silver and a long silver wand sword obviously too large and tall for him to use in enclosed spaces.

He tried to at least put on a brave face, but Douglass can tell that this boy looked as if he would bolt it at the first signs of trouble.

"Where are the rest of my men!?" he demanded

"They're taking defensive positions inside the manor at the moment, we are fortifying our positions so in order to—"

"I never gave that order!

"No, but I—"

"Sir Douglas, the enemy is out there! I want all of you to go out there and fight the enemy!"

"But, my lord… We can't see anything out there! wouldn't it be better for them to come to us?"

"Don't you dare question my authority here!? This is my Home you're using here as your fort! I never gave you permission for that! Now get out there and kill those cunts!" he pointed out towards the field and the fog of war.

Sir Douglass was about to argue more but was then cut off when he heard the sound of rumbling. He looked down by the ruined windowsill and the vibrations were shaking up bits of rumble and the water droplets on the surfaces of the building and the glass windows.

"I'm afraid it's already too late for that." Douglas gulped in anticipation. "Spread out! Form up defensive positions!"

Christopher was inwardly panicking and pointed out his shaking hand towards the fog. "T-T-They're here! Sir Douglas, why are you waiting, they're right there!?"

"Be quiet, Boy!" Sir Douglas growled at the petulant boy. "This is war! I will not take orders from a boy with a silver spoon fed up his arse when it comes to war, that honour goes to your Mother."

"You dare to speak of her in my presence!?" He screeched.

Douglas was about to retort or smack the boy in the face until he heard terrified screaming and gunshot noises being heard through the fog ofwar, he could see the feint but brief flashes of muzzle fire through the dense mist and smoke. The guards and mages that managed to survive the bombardment were seen fleeing through the smoke in terror as they fled away from their enemy, only to be gunned down with their back turned. Most of them were pleading for help whilst others spouted out futilities and hopelessness.

Douglas saw all of this happening and was about to shout to all of the mages musketmen, crossbowmen and archers to hold their fire, but Christopher had other ideas.

"Fire!" he ordered and by his command only half obeyed his orders as magic spells hit the fleeing soldiers that were only retreating and thus mercilessly slaughtering the fleeing soldiers.

"What in Brimir's name are you doing, boy!?" he spat out as he glared at the malicious boy.

The boy noble only sneered "They dared to turn their back towards the enemy! Such cowardice is a shameful affront to myself and Reconquista!"

"So you just butcher your own men because you were offended!?" Douglas spat out incredulously

Christopher glared right back at the minor noble for his disrespect "I am the Count of these lands! My word is law and you will obey my every order!"

The old butler and former knight had finally had enough of him "NO! I will not be a part of this madness!" Sir Douglas refused and marched off.

"Sir Douglas! Get back here! Get back here and fight you damned coward!" The young heir screeched after Douglas, he got angrier when several of his own men had left with him. Before he could brand him and the rest of the deserters as a traitor and kill them for their disrespect and insubordination, he was interrupted when he heard one of his men call out.

"There, up the main road!" somebody had called out until his head suddenly burst where a splatter of blood and brain matter splattered against the boy's cheeks.

Count Christopher was in shock as he felt the bright red liquid pour down his fat cheeks as he looked out towards the window. Outside he saw hundreds of cavalry just storming up the main road leading up to his house. It was only a cavalry led by commoners, but… how were they killing his men so fast? Their muskets were firing more rounds than an ordinary one and their method of attack is suppressing their mages, preventing them from counter attacking.

He looked out the window he was cowering behind and out of the rest of them as he spotted the odd one out. A distinct characteristic and feature of who appears to be the leader of this rabble, one who wore full bandages around his head, albeit they were completely soaked and half tattered and scorched.

He suddenly felt a shiver of fear as If he spotted him from behind his hiding spot, his gaze already locked onto his target.

"There, in the centre! The one with the bandaged face, that's the leader! Kill him! Kill him!" he commanded for his men to target the leader.

His men tried to comply with his orders by trying to let off a shot, but with how fast and furious with the way they attacked. They only managed to fire off a few shots of magi spells like fireballs, icicles, rock spikes and boulders and wind blades that manged to catch and unhorse a few of a the riders as well as a few arrows, crossbow bolts and musket rounds. The worst weapon they had was the one that was spitting out hot lead at a ridiculous rate of fire that was being wielded by the leader of the charge as it decimated through many of his men and smashed through layers of wall that was their cover.

But the shock and awe of the attack was too fast for them to keep track of as the leader soon ordered for the cavalry to split and two parties were formed that split down the middle, flanking both sides of the manor house.

"They're flanking us, get men on both sides of the house this instant!" Christopher shouted out in panic as he realised that most of the men were gathered at the front of his house and they could easily get in from the back and the sides of the building.

"My lord, there's a second wave incoming!" some of the men called out but they were surprised when they began to hear loud unfamiliar noises

"Wha…What is that thing!?" another soldier called out in panic

Christopher was about to demand for order and a report on the situation until he saw what all the commotion was all about. In the fog of war, he saw several bright light beaming through the blanket of smoke and mist like some sort of spirit.

*Whistle!*

A high pitched scream could be heard as great big lumbering steel beasts crawled through the scarred field, it's mechanical parts grinding, rattling and clattering as the machine bellowed out hot steam from their armoured cabins and funnels and bright lights spewing out from it's face as the thing moved along at moderate pace. The front of the metal beast like horse was covered in a layer of sheet metal, protecting it from frontal attacks whilst it safely pulled along its armoured carriages filled with personnel and what looks to be artillery pieces on a turntable.

Christopher had grown pale white when he was in disbelief and bafflement as to who could make or summon these great big lumbering beats. He ordered for his mages to slow them down or kill them, but to of little effect.

The weaker fire spells that were shot from low rate mage only seemed to singe it's armour while some of the more stronger mages were lucky enough to partially melt or destroy it's hull with a more higher concentrated spell with a bit more explosive power in it or even lucky enough to disable or destroy one of them as steam burst out from the open gaps of its hull before exploding. The water and ice spell proved to be rather ineffective as they would only dampen the surface or even shatter against the armoured hull, whereas some would get lucky or smarter to enhance and harden the lances of ice with more magic to at least pierce through the hull before launching it at a faster speed. The Earth spells had more luck in tacking out a few and even upturn a few of them with a well-placed boulder throw or a ground spike impaling through the beasts belly.

But the metal horses still spooked then noble lord as these peasants were responsible for making these giant steam machines…where they were really called the Traction Engine in another world. They were large, robust and powerful, but at the same time they were heavy, slow, and difficult to manoeuvre. In modern Earth terminology, they were essentially large steam tractors. Nevertheless they were responsible for the changes they brought to agriculture and road haulage at a time when the only alternative prime mover was the draught horse, but Zachary Crowshaw's intentions for it was for a tool of war first, then industrialisation.

They were immovable most of the time and were the ones who were the most furious in their assault as they pulled along their payloads of artillery and support weapons such as Gatling gun turrets in the driver and passenger cabin and their passengers in the carriages in the rear as they were pulled along. Other support weapons included a Hotchkiss Revolving Cannon firing a 37mm cartridge round and Hotchkiss 2 pounder 45mm and the 9 cm Kanone C/73 90mm breech loaded artillery pieces fixed on top of the giant steam powered tractors and on carriages with turntables fixed upon them as they fired upon the house.

What Zachary had just made was the 19th century's version of an APC and an IFV. As the Traction engines reached the house at a decent enough distant, 12 of the troop transport carriages' rear doors soon dropped down and out marched 50+ infantry personnel per carriage all carrying Henry Martini rifles and Gwewher 1871 bolt action rifles and crossbows loaded with an explosive Ketchum grenade as the projectiles.

Christopher could've only thought that maybe this time fortune had been smiling on him as only 600 men had all but gathered for the slaughter, but was sorely mistaken when he saw the distance they were firing at and he performance of said weapons were way beyond any musket weapons he knew of as they all picked off his men one by one in a hail of gunfire on the first volley fire and then in just two seconds they were ready to fire again as they loaded in a fresh round.

Some of the assault personnel got to fire off the Ketchum grenades from their modified crossbows that acts as a early form of grenade launcher right at the enemy that were cowering behind the walls of the manor house. The blasts were ripping out holes of the wall by the blast, but it was not as powerful as Dynamite or a 20th century hand grenade.

As his men were slowly getting pinned down and overwhelmed by heavy gun fire from the support guns, the artillery pieces and the swarms of enemy infantry. Christopher had finally lost it as a small artillery shell blasted through a wall and the shrapnel had pierced through the throat of one of his officers that was standing next to him. the dead eye stare that bore into him as he turned around with blood pouring out of his mouth made him drench his breeches in warm yellow piss.

"HIII!" he squealed in terror as he ran down the corridor fleeing from the fight , and ran deeper into his home leaving his men abandoned and in disbelief and horror as they stared at the back of their fleeing commander. The sound minded men that stayed to fight, snorted in disgust as they knew that the green boy noble had no place on the battlefield, his prestige only granted or given to him by his father, and his daddy wasn't here to save him now. They soon realised that they should've joined Sir Douglas when they had the chance to because they were not sure if they would survive the night with the onslaught that as happening right upon their doorstep.

Christopher ran all the way down the soon empty corridor of the first floor as he tried ot find the panic room that was built into his bedroom, but he soon cursed to himself for their being only one and for it to be so far away in this blasted house. Curse the previous family who designed this place before his father took from them.

He then stopped and paused as he heard a loud rumble that echoed through the building and it's walls. He gulped as he soon realised and then remembered the flanking party that circled around the building. They were already inside quicker than he expected whilst the majority of his men were focused on the front. He knew he had to hurry up if he wanted to escape capture.

He reached one of the main stairwells and foyers that led to the ground, 1st and 2nd floors, but he soon encountered what he feared for when he first spotted him.

The leader and his company of personnel had already breached the building and seized most of the ground floor before reaching the main foyer before blasting a couple f his guards that were holding their position in the foyer with lead from an odd looking musket weapon that looked crude yet deadly that was made of wood and metal with a drum secured underneath it.

*RATATATATA!*

He was the stunned as it bellowed out a horrifically harsh explosion of fast consecutive shots that were impossible to achieve in any standard modern muskets in his era. The rate of fire and the stopping power just shredded through his men like wet paper, their armour proven useless as it broke apart like brittle wood that shattered into multiple pieces.

The ringleader of said party that stormed into his home seemed to be getting a kick from using the terrifying weapon as well as mad as he let off a huge burst into the glass chandelier with a golden frame above. His adrenaline fuelling his anger as he just open fired upon the chandelier that shattered many glass lights and crystal decorations, after many shots later one stray bullet hit thee chain that carried the whole thing and it shattered upon the ground as soon as it crashed, sending thousands of shards upon the floor.

"Livingston!" he roared out. "Come on out! it's over!"

Christopher had been cowering behind the banister on the first floor as he tried ot shuffle away before he stepped on a creaky floorboard that alerted the whole party including the leader down below towards his presence. When they looked up and spotted the new lord of the manor, the leader, garbed in a black intimidating coat and armour as well as ammo belts wrapped around his person and half of his scarred burned face revealed with parts of his singed bandages just draping down his shoulder was staring right at him… which certainly made for a scary sight when it is this man who was hunting after him with a powerful army at his beck and call.

"Hello there~!" he could just see his malicious grin as if he was pleased to see him.

"Y-You!" he pointed at him as he stumbled down and lifted himself up onto the banister. "Wha-What do you want with me!?"

He tilted his head in response "Isn't it obvious?…I want you gone." He aid as if it's the most obvious answer in the world. "Don't you see? You've lost… there is nothing here for you now and hearth will soon be better off without you once it's rid of you."

Christopher tried to put on a brave face as he pointed his fat meaty finger at him "Hearth…Hearth is mine by right! I inherited this town after my father's passing! It belongs to me to do whatever I want with it! You have no right in taking what's rightfully mine!" he screeched.

Crowshaw scoffed "Do you think I give a fuck about what rights you have? That line of thought is not going to help you here, as I ended that said line of thought when I massacred your men and shot up the Father with 50 bullets in his chest and a bullet to his head and ousted McCoy from this town as I seized his corrupted trading company for myself. Your time is coming to an end sooner than expected, Livingston. The time for some new fucking management has come at last!" Zachary announced as he cocked his weapon by its side with a metallic ping after he inserted a new magazine. "And now the people demand justice for all of the atrocities that happened upon them and the inevitable change will soon be in effect…and I shall grant them just that." Zachary promised as he and his group marched up towards the stairs up towards him.

Christopher panicked and drew out his wand was about to launch a fireball at this cur, but a raven haired woman who stood close to him was faster as she swiftly drew out a silver revolver and fired a round that shattered the wand into splinters.

Christopher cried out in shock as he gripped onto his hand as the bullet skimmed past his fingertips.

"Is that what it's all about? You invaded my town, my home… just for some lowlife peasants!? Those miserable little degenerates are nothing, why are you doing it for them!? Instead, you could work for me! I-I-I'll pay you handsomely, whatever you want? You'll get nothing from the peasants, so what'll it be? Gold, land, titles, or what about women? A-Anything you want I'll grant it, just please spare me my life form this madness…Please!?" he begged as he shuffled backwards.

"Begging won't do you any good, pig. Your money, noble authority and titles will not save you this time" Zac shook his head as he reached the top floor on the staircase and was a few meters away in approaching him. "Now shut up and get over here, boy. Your punishment is long overdue." He growled out through his tattered bandages as he slowly drew out a serrated combat knife out of it's scabbard.

Christopher realised that he had no way of fighting as he just remembered that he dropped his wand sword when he fled from his defensive position earlier, so he did the only thing he could do in his positon…he ran…but not very far.

As soon as he ran not but five meters around a corner that lead to the back of the manor house and towards his master bedroom, a long steel pike suddenly lunged out of the shadows and plunged into his portly belly. He was soon in shock as he looked down and gripped onto the long shaft that was embedded into his fat torso. He looked up to see who had dared to murder a noble so cowardly from the shadows, only to see something more shocking than a commoner raiding his home.

A slim but scarred woman in rags of what appears to be a night gown shuffled from out of the shadows. She looked slightly malnourished, but was strong enough to heft up a mighty pike with one arm as her left arm appears to have been dismembered recently where the sleeve was tied into knot around the stump of the arm to stop the bleeding. Her bloody silvery locks of hair were a dishevelled and bloody mess that covered the majority of her face. Her lone eye that peered out from a small gap of her fringe showed her cold bloodthirsty rage and hatred she felt for the boy that tormented her so cruelly.

But the last word that Zachary heard Christopher utter out in shock with the pike stabbed into his stomach was one he had not expected as he reached the first floor bannister.

"Mother?" he whimpered out in shock and pain. He said as he held out his hand for her, not because of regret or for a small slither of love he still felt for her…but because he begged her for mercy as he didn't want to die… he was a noble… he was too important to die.

Unfortunately for him, his pleas fell on death ears as her grip only turned the tip of the pike in his wound and with great strength she hoisted her son in the air in an acute angle as she seethed out her response. "I HAVE NO SON!" she hissed out callously as she threw her son through the banister, shattering it, sending him straight down to the ground floor and crashing face first through onto hard solid floor covered in thousands of broken glass and crystal shards along with the pike pushed straight through his torso, his face now mangled beyond recognition before he coughed ad spluttered out his last breath as his face was littered with glass shards sticking through every inch of his face.

Zachary stared on apathetically as he witnessed both mother and son having a heart to heart talk before she discarded her son like wiping scum off her boot for good.

Zachary then turned to observe this strange woman who had murdered her son in cold blood that he suspected may have been for revenge as he eyed her cautiously as did the rest of his personnel that trained their weapons on her.

She then noticed them as she turned to stare at these strangers with a stone cold but weary gaze, not even bothered by her state of dress that barely upholding her decency as the rags were threatening to slip off her shoulders that would almost reveal her DD cup or higher breasts in their entirety, but he wasn't focusing on them at the moment as this lady's killing intent was through the roof.

"Who are you people? What are you doing in my home?" she demanded of them.

Zachary blinked, but answered honestly. "beSieging it, can't you tell by the distant explosions and gunshots?"

The woman only stared blankly a she listened to all the chaos that was happening throughout the estate for but a few moments before she answered. "Is that so?…Hn…So you're his enemy that he was rambling on about?" he pointed towards her deceased son as she assessed him with an observant and calculative gaze.

"Yeah, that's right…and by an extent…so are you" he pointed out."

"So it would seem." She drew out a breath and the atmosphere in the room grew tense and silent as Zac's instincts were going all erratic at the threat that this woman posed. After a brief tense moment of silence, she came forth with her answer. "Well then…I surrender." She raised her only arm up into the air with a blank aloof face that displayed little emotion with no intention to fight.

Zac and his Personnel gawked as they could've sworn that things were about to have gone quiet messy, but were proven wrong. "Erm…Okay…Why?" Zac drawled out and the silver haired lady spoke out her answer.

"I wish to surrender myself to you, but in exchange for my surrender… I request for your aid in the fight against Reconquista!" she said seriously after recalling his words when she heard him just before the moment of Christopher's demise.

Zachary's only response with a raised but singed and burnt off brow was… "…Huh?"

And then gets distracted by his notification's box that was blinking in the corner of his vision. He had completely forgot about it as he thought that notifications were just annoying distractions most of the time, but he had it turned off throughout the whole day battle.

'Hm, I wonder what's this about?' he clicked on the notifications icon and the… a few seconds later his vison exploded as the HUD had just been flooded by past notifications in the last several hours.

Mission complete!

[Northern Thunder]

Primary Objectives:

Siege the Town of Hearth and capture it for yourself (Complete)

Capture or kill Count Christopher Livingston (Dead)

Capture or kill Father Timms (Dead)

Capture or kill Captain Horace (Captured Alive)

Capture or kill Baron Nellis McCoy (Escaped)

Bonus objectives:

Capture the town without setting off the alarm [Intel Division Reward: Civilian structure upgrade – [Hideouts]

Capture the Livingston manor without suffering 50% damage [Central HQ Command Reward: FOB Command Centre]

Suffer less than 15% casualties to the town's populace (6%) [Medical Division Reward: Medical civilian Clinic and Heal ability]

Capture Captain Horace live – [Combat/Security Division reward: Police station]

Save the mob – Release the Mob from their corruption [Reward: Support ability [Cure] & perk [Lifegiver]

Capture McCoy's Trade company – Reward: Perk and Merchant Upgrade [Master Trader]

New structures are now available to build! [Close]

Train station (Manage your railway here)

Train depot (Builds steam locomotives)

Airfield (Builds Airships)

Motor pool (Builds vehicle based units such as automobiles)

Police station (Civilian only – Trains Marshal, Sheriff, Police officer, police detective)

Medical clinic (Civilian only - Trains Doctors and nurses)

Safe houses/Hideouts (Civilian building Upgrade only)

New units are now available to train at the command centre! [Open]

New Research options are now available! [Open]

You have gained a legendary unit! [Close]

S rank!

Kirov Command Airship + S rank crew (Requires Airfield) (AN: Command and Conquer Red Alert

You have gained a new Ally

SS rank!

Margaret Silverstone (The Fire Fist)

Square class fire mage

Albionian Aristocrat (Former Duchess)

Age 52 (Looks 30ish)

You have levelled up X8!

Level 35

Health points – 325/650(-50% Health)

Mana points – 1500/1500 MP

Stats:

Strength - 33

Vitality - 40

Dexterity - 37

Intelligence - 41

Wisdom - 38

Luck – 19

Available Stat points 45

You have been Promoted!

Your rank is now: Colonel

Infantry Personnel – 1200 (1 regiment): You can assign any different roles to any of the summoned personnel judging by their current rankings or specialised rankings when training for a specific role in different combat/specialised logistical and other roles in your military force or base.

Ordnance/Artillery – 410

Vehicles – 330

Aircraft – 180

Warships/Boats – 50

REP Gained/ Infamy gained!

Reconquista: -410/1000 REP (Hated) (You have gravelly slighted Reconquista and will thus plot against you for your actions.)

Albion Royal Family: +110/1000 (Liked and respected.) (You have done a noble effort and a considerable favour by liberating a town under the oppressive tyranny of Reconquista. This faction may seek you out if you plan on assisting them further if they feel if you and they have similar interests, but watch out for snakes in the grass.

Your summoning tech cap has increased!

You are now able to summon tech and Arms before and during the year "1900"

You have liberated a town!

This town is now under your command

Hearth

Headquarters – Livingston/Silverstone Estate

Population – 45,000 (Estimate)

Military Garrison:

79/2000 personnel

20 Artillery Ordnance

28 combat mages

Aerial support:

None

Military status:

Poor

Navy Status:

N/A

Stronghold/Palace status: Moderate damage

City status: Poor, but improving

Common people's mood: Upset, angry, bitter, anxious, grateful, scared

Aristocracy mood: Outraged, confused, nervous

Would you like to manage your town?

Y/N

Zac could only blink as he sweat dropped at the amount of notifications he missed out and the new features that were being presented to him as he tried to discreetly dismiss them and read them later whilst in front of this rather terrifying, dishevelled, tortured and starving woman who wore a blood-soaked nightgown.

He quickly turned off the HUD and the notifications and made a plan to read them for later, but first he needed to address this issue.

"You…Want to join us?" he pointed sceptically at her, feeling puzzled as to why a noble would want to join them and a duchess at that, former or not.

"Well… I wouldn't say join up as I hardly know you. Although, it's more like I wish to ascertain that Hearth is safe before owing my allegiance to its conquerors." She said aloofly and with a shrug.

"Ok, that I can understand… but I just can't picture as to why you'd want to work with us? You do realise that I'm not a mage"

"Believe me, if I was your age then I'd be questioning myself over it constantly, the thought of allying myself with commoners like we're equals and all that bullshit, but I'm not a fool to not see potential when I see it." she scoffed before she gestured for him to follow. "Come. We'll discuss this more after I had something to eat as I can't stand the feeling of having a body that's slightly all skin and bones, spending months in that little shit's dungeon will do that to you." She said bluntly.

"Oh, would you mind if we prepare the meal for you? You do look like you really need it."

"Sure, as long as it's the best damn meal I've ever had then I'm okay with you preparing my meal…well, to be honest I don't really care what I eat as long as I get fed." She shrugged before walking off to find the dining room before Zac and his bodyguards followed straight after to discuss their partnership in more detail.

/

AN: I think i'll see to Commander of Zero next as that started off quite well for a first chapter.

I know i said that most Naruto fics are generic, but i can't help but appreciate that someone has done a new familiar of zero fic with Naruto in it that actually looks promising (The Vulpine Familiar of Zero), but this fic follows the canon mostly.

The foundations is loosely following canon but it's almost entirely AU. strange thing is that i always felt more comfortable doing AUs than following Canon to the letter of every detail.

Another fic that i wish to try out, a crossover between One Piece and Fallout New Vegas with the courier as a StrawHat...that's a tricky one.

And as i have said previously in my last update...updates will be random at best, it could take longer or shorter than the last so don't hold your breath for it to come more frequently as i have been quite bus as well as being occupied with Red Dead Redemption II (Good Game)

And as always... leave a suggestion for anything related to new tech ideas and units.