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Altered Emblem Ch. 19
🕑 Added 2025-04-06 12:00:12 +0000 UTCThe beast's talons gouged deep furrows into the stone as it pursued Byleth. The Sword of the Creator flashed crimson, severing oozing tendrils of black mud that regrew faster than she could burn them away. Each clash sent tremors up her arms, her muscles screaming as she narrowly twisted beneath a clawed sweep that shattered a pillar behind her.
Just as quickly, the severed tendrils regrew, stretching and punching in towards her with nary a second of hesitation. Byleth had to stretch her neck off to the side, straining considerably as she dodged.
The Archer moved like a shadow, slipping into the periphery of the battle the moment Byleth took the beast’s attention. Byleth couldn't see him, not entirely, as he blended into the background. Yet, she could feel what he was doing. The weapons that had cracked with the sound of thunder had silenced, instead, a swell of power had started to build with unseen force.
The air itself seemed to warp around the Archer, a distortion like heat rising from desert sands - only this was no trick of the light. The ground beneath his feet blackened, as though scorched by an invisible fire, and the scent of lightning thickened in the air.
“What the hell are you doing, gawking around?” The Archer’s snark came through, “MOVE!”
Too late though. In watching him, Byleth had taken her eyes off of the monster in front of her. Only for a moment, yet it was enough time for it to already be swinging another tendril in her direction. She slashed downwards, kicking up stones to intercept. It barely slowed the appendage down.
Byleth coughed as what felt like a wall impacted her chestpiece. She was flung across to the side, the Sword in her hand being thrust into the ground again, this time to stop her momentum. She succeeded, the Sword of the Creator creating a rift in the stone as she slowed down.
The power that was gathering in the Archer’s direction abruptly faded, and for a moment, Byleth feared the worst. Thankfully, that did not seem to be the case, as she heard the telltale sound of the Archer’s weapons.
“Above!” Sothis yelled out a warning. Byleth didn’t waste it, not this time, as she dove to the side, just in time for a slab of rock to impact where she would have been.
This was bad. The structure was not built with whatever Miklan had turned into in mind. If this lasts long enough, they might as well be signing their death warrants when the tower inevitably collapses. They needed to end this quickly.
“If you want this to end, then damn well focus.” Once again, the Archer spoke, this time with no little amount of frustration, “This thing is nothing more than a beast running on instincts, but that just means it will target me whenever it can.”
Byleth grit her teeth, forcing herself back to her feet. The Archer was right, even if he didn't outright say it. She couldn't afford to get distracted, not when it meant her students would be the ones to suffer the consequences.
The Soul Eater was relentless, but it was predictable. And right now, its instincts would be drawn to the growing power radiating from the Archer.
She exhaled sharply, tightening her grip on the Sword of the Creator. The blade pulsed in response, the Relic glowing like molten steel. Without hesitation, Byleth lunged forward, not to strike, but to provoke. She slashed horizontally, segmenting the Sword into its whip-like form, striking at the head of the beast.
It roared, twisting its massive body toward her. Just as she wanted.
The Archer’s presence vanished again, and the power once more started up.
The Black Beast - because that was the only real title she could really call it by now - lashed out towards her. Blackened flesh, writhing masses and all, struck quickly. Each one could and would crush her from the speed they rocketed with.
Byleth dodged as best as she could. The Sword of the Creator pulled up to parry the flesh, ringing out as if they were struck with steel instead. But even as she deflected one, another tendril snaked around her guard, crushing into her side with the force of a battering ram.
A breath left her lungs in a pained gasp as she was thrown back a second time, skidding across the cracked stone floor. Blood welled in her mouth, metallic and sharp. She couldn’t put her Sword up in time, forcing her into a roll, further and further away from the Beast.
"Byleth!" Sothis’ voice was urgent, laced with concern. The world spun in front of her eyes, and she had to stop herself from puking right there and then. It was all she could do to scramble to one side as the Black Beast leapt at her, the entire tower rumbling as it did so.
From the ground, she swung her Sword, catching the Beast’s leg. It felt like hitting solid rock, and for all that it did, it may as well have been. Roaring more in anger than pain, the monster that was Miklan opened its maw to bite at Byleth. Oozing black mud flowed from out of the jaw, and instinctively, Byleth knew that whatever that was, it would not do well for that to even graze her.
Before she could even attempt to move, a familiar shout echoed out from behind the Beast.
“Professor!” Dimitri, putting his entire weight into his lance, charging straight at the Black Beast with reckless abandon. It staggered, making it miss its bite attempt. It immediately turned its attention over to the distraction, and for a moment, Byleth stopped to stare, wide-eyed at the sheer bullheadedness of her student.
Only for a moment though, as she bore witness to Felix already slashing at the one side of the monster with his own blade. Saw as Ingrid barreled into the other with a heavy blow. Ashe, shooting arrows to the neck. Dedue, now pushing with Dimitri at the back.
Sylvain's voice cut through the chaos, raw with emotion so unlike her student, "Miklan!"
The cry hung in the air like shattered glass. The Black Beast froze mid-swing, its oozing head cocking at an unnatural angle. For one impossible heartbeat, the writhing shadows seemed to still, as it looked around to find the source of the shout.
Byleth already saw where the redhead was, and suffice it to say, she was not happy.
Running on the back of the demonic beast, Sylvain leapt forward with a battlecry. Seemingly unaware of her student, the corrupted Miklan still searched around frantically, only to be met with a spear to its unprotected neck.
Unlike the other parts of the Beast that were seemingly armored to the bone, its neck was quite prominently less armored. It was similar to how cuirass only really covered the torso. So, when the Sylvain stabbed, they were met with a Beast that quickly roared in pain, thrashing all over.
Frantically, Byleth and her students scrambled out of the way as it started to throw itself all over the area. Byleth could see Sylvain desperately trying to hold on, only to himself be launched upwards.
Sylvain hurtling through the air, his body twisting helplessly before crashing onto the broken stone floor with a sickening thud. He groaned, rolling onto his side, but the Beast was already turning.
Byleth didn't think; she moved.
The Sword of the Creator lashed out like a whip of molten fire, wrapping around the Beast’s foreleg just as it reared back to crush Sylvain beneath its claws. With a grunt of effort, Byleth yanked, using all her strength to throw the monster off-balance. The Beast staggered, its massive weight shifting unnaturally as it crashed into another crumbling pillar.
"Get him out of here!" Byleth barked, not daring to take her eyes off the creature.
Dedue was already there, hauling Sylvain up by the arm while Ingrid covered them, her lance poised to strike if the Beast so much as twitched in their direction.
But the Black Beast wasn’t done yet.
With a guttural snarl, it righted itself, blackened flesh knitting together where Sylvain’s spear had torn through its neck. The wound closed too quickly, and Byleth felt a cold knot tighten in her stomach.
The Archer better have an answer for rapid regeneration, cause she sure as hell didn't have one.
She barely had time to process the thought before the Beast lunged again, this time not at Sylvain, but at her.
Byleth braced, the Sword of the Creator flashing in her grip-
A wall of steel slammed into the Beast’s path.
Gilbert’s shield took the full force of the strike, the impact resonating like a cathedral bell. The sheer force drove the seasoned knight back a step, his boots grinding against the quickly rupturing stone.
"Fall back, Professor!" Gilbert barked, his voice rough with exertion, "Regroup with the others!"
Byleth didn’t argue. She pivoted, darting toward Sylvain as Dedue and Ingrid dragged him further from the fray. The Beast howled, its writhing form twisting to lash at Gilbert, only for a volley of arrows to pepper its flank. Ashe, who'd climbed atop a half-collapsed ledge, fired shot after shot, each one striking the once oozing wound Sylvain had opened.
The distraction was enough.
Gilbert seized the opening, heaving his shield aside and swinging his axe in a brutal arc. Steel bit into the Beast’s forearm, only managing the slightest of cuts, yet it was enough to draw the monster's ire. For now, Gilbert had the Beast's attention. Byleth could only hope that he knew what he was doing, and that they'd be able to figure out just what to do soon.
Her run skidded to a halt beside Sylvain, her free hand gripping his shoulder, "You idiot." She hissed, though the relief in her voice undercut the reprimand.
Sylvain coughed, wincing as he clutched his ribs, "Yeah, yeah...Worth it." His gaze flicked past her, toward the Beast, "It-it recognized me."
“We aren’t about to let you fight this thing alone, Professor.” Dimitri’s firm resolve was evident as he arrived next to them, “The Blue Lions will never leave anyone behind.” That his tone was almost reprimanding built up just the slightest bit of shame in Byleth. It was only compounded by the nods that she could see all around, even from Annette as she worked to heal Sylvain.
For all that she wanted them to stay safe, her students were not helpless, and they would stand with her, whether she liked it or not.
Byleth exhaled sharply, tightening her grip on the Sword of the Creator, "Fine. But we do this together."
Before she could continue, the weight of power that was building suddenly vanished. For a moment, Byleth thought that the Black Beast was targeting the Archer once more, and she moved to intercept it. But no, the monster was still being distracted by Gilbert.
In the distance though, she could see the Archer. Standing there with only one of his usual weapons, he looked quite a bit worse off. Golden veins akin to cracks layered up on his skin, and even from where she stood, she could see him breathing heavily.
“You know, finding a weapon to kill you is easy.” His voice echoed across the chamber, ethereal in quality, “Finding one that doesn’t collapse the entire tower alongside it? Far more difficult.”
The Professor’s knees buckled as visions of swords, gleaming, powerful. Far more powerful than the one she held in her hands, as it stood. No doubt, each one would be able to kill the Black Beast in one fell swoop. Each one would also reduce everything else around it to the same fate, including Byleth and her students.
“It’s funny how it takes a damn jumped up Soul Eater for me to get creative.” The Black Beast had turned its attention towards the Archer now, “Do you know how annoying it is to compress someone else’s Origin into a bullet?” He sounded almost distracted, similar to how one is when going for a while without sleep.
He was doing something with the weapon, clacking it open and putting something inside. The monster must have known something was going on, and had bounded towards the Archer even faster than before.
“I suppose words are lost on you anyway. Best get this over with.” The weapon was lifted up with an almost relaxed stance.
“Phantasm Punishment.”
A crack of thunder.
And in an instant, the Black Beast was screaming. Not roaring, screaming. All too human for a monster. Black flesh started peeling off in droves, liquefying then evaporating into black smoke. It started to tear into itself, clawing its own body in a seeming desperate attempt to undo what the Archer had done.
The monstrous shell cracked and split, a face peering through the ink.
“Sylvain-!” The name tore from Miklan's throat, raw and broken.
The monstrous shell cracked and split, a face peering through the ink.
“Sylvain-!” The name tore from Miklan's throat, raw and broken. Yet despite that, despite everything that had happened, his face showed nothing more than utter contempt.
Sylvain staggered forward, his injuries forgotten, “Miklan?!” Similarly, Sylvain couldn't help but reach out. The man was still his brother, even after what had happened.
The last of the Black Beast’s form collapsed inward, the cursed energy dissipating like smoke in the wind. Miklan’s body, whole but horrifically scarred, crumpled to the ground, the Lance of Ruin clattering beside him.
For a heartbeat, no one moved.
Then Sylvain was running.
He dropped to his knees beside his brother, hands hovering uselessly over Miklan’s ravaged body. The man was still breathing, shallow, ragged gasps, but his skin was deathly pale, veins blackened where the corruption had burrowed deepest.
“You-idiot.” Sylvain choked out, his voice trembling, “What the hell were you thinking?!”
Miklan’s lips twitched. Not a smile. Not quite. Something bitter. Something resigned.
“...Didn’t… have a choice...” He rasped.
Byleth stepped closer, her grip tightening around the Sword of the Creator. She didn’t lower it. Not yet.
Miklan’s gaze flicked to her, then past her, to the Archer, who had reappeared at the edge of the group, silent as a ghost. His expression darkened.
“You...” Miklan coughed, blackened blood flecking his lips. “You did this...”
The Archer didn’t respond.
Miklan’s body spasmed, his back arching as another wave of pain wracked him. Sylvain grabbed his shoulders, holding him down, “Stop moving, damn it! You’re just making it worse!”
“Too late...for that...” Miklan wheezed. His eyes, dull with pain, locked onto Sylvain’s. “...Should’ve been you.”
Sylvain froze.
Miklan’s mouth twisted into something ugly, “Should’ve been you who got thrown away. Not me.”
Sylvain didn’t flinch. He just exhaled, slow and steady, and tightened his grip on Miklan’s shoulder.
“Yeah.” He said quietly, “Maybe it should’ve.”
Miklan stared at him. Then, with a shuddering breath, his body went slack.
Silence.
…
Commissioned by: FireRogueWolf25
A/N: Reference for what Phantasm Punishment is for those unfamiliar to Fate/Grand Order, and even to those familiar with it but who may not have heard of it, straight from the wiki:
EMIYA's second Noble Phantasm is Phantasm Punishment. A knife that has the power of the double attributes of “Severing” and “Binding” – Emiya’s own Origin – put into it. It causes fatal damage to opponents that possess either Magic Circuits, Magic Crests or anything similar to those inside their bodies.
