March 16th, 1798

As he walked towards the redans that protected the immense walls of the Montpierre castle, Francis didn't feel scared. His nerves existed, yes, but stemmed out of excitement, not anxiety. He wanted to have the head of the Duke for himself, and this was the best chance he'd ever get to kill him. He was vibrating with joy, not with fear.

—HALT! —a royalist soldier screamed from the other side of the redan, as his men held their muskets towards the battalion.

—EASY! WE COME IN PEACE! —the captain raised both hands up, as if to prove his point.

—We are soldiers from the Ruhm Empire! Second Corps! Third division! —Jacques lied, also holding his hands up—. We are loyal to your kingdom, and were sent here to help all of those whom are still loyal to King Henry; God bless his legacy and memory!

The soldier that shouted at them frowned, and although reluctantly, asked the others around him to relax. Then, walked out of his hiding place, alone, and moved towards the newcomers. His musket still was pointed up, though.

—Who sent you here?

—General Polenski. Your highness, the Duke of Alvern, wrote to him explaining how unfortunate your situation was, and so, with his permission and with the permission of our royal highness, Ferdinand the second, we came...  —Francis name dropped one of the Duke's old friends, to sound more believable—. We were camping on the ruins of the Keaches castle... —he then pointed northeast—. When numerous rebels attacked us by night. We weren't expecting the sheer size and power of their forces, and we didn't have any backup to aid us... It was a bloodshed. Our cavalry is gone. Our artillery is gone... We are the only ones left. We ran away before they could kill us. Escaped, barely. But we've arrived, to help in whatever way we can.

By "we" Francis referred to the battalion standing behind him and Jacques.

The nameless man ahead studied the faces of the unknown soldiers and nodded, as his eyes darkened, his features softened, and something akin to fear settled on his face.

He believed the former gardener's tale.

The fish had caught the bait.

—Wait here.

The guard then went back to the redan. About fifteen minutes passed and he returned, accompanied by another officer —of a higher rank, judging by the quality of his clothes and the uncountable medals hanging from his coat—.

—Good morning, gentleman —the newly arrived extended his hand towards Francis and Jacques, and they both shook it—. It's a pleasure to have you all here on Montpierre, although I deeply lament the conditions of our meeting. I am commander Rapp.

—Oberst Klaus Dessaur, at your service.

—Oberstleutnant Otto Heinrich, also at your service.

—Es ist eine freuden, leutte wie sie zu beherbergennet —the rival commander replied, and Francis had to smile and nod, only understanding half of the sentence thanks to the faraway memories of his childhood studies of the language—. Come along, and bring your soldiers with you. You're safe now.

God, he wished he had been a bigger bookworm than he was.

—What did he say? —the undercover captain asked Jacques in a low voice, as their enemies led the way to the castle's entrance, and they followed right behind.

—That it's an honor to have people like us here.

—Oh. Then I got that right.

Francis strolled inside the fortress quietly from then on, and communicated with Jacques only through casual hand gestures and sharp looks, working on a plan to tear its defenses down on a whim.

—West entrance —his partner in crime whispered as they walked, and the captain looked in that very same direction immediately.

In mere seconds, he understood what the blacksmith wanted to say; it was the less protected area of the castle. If they wanted to open the gates and allow the rest of their troops to invade the place, they would have to start their attack from there.

—Agreed —he whispered back, and looked away.

The royalist commander, oblivious to their conversation, asked them if their men would be fine sharing a dormitory with the other royalist soldiers around.

—Of course they will. That won't be a problem —Francis's strained smile was noticeable only to those who knew him best.

—Well, then. That's settled. For now, let's take your soldiers to the great hall, so they can have lunch and gain a little bit of their vigor back.

—Heinrich, you should join them —Francis said to Jacques—. In the meanwhile, I'll talk to the Duke.

—Are you sure you don't want my company?

—No, I'll be fine —the captain insisted, and winked.

Jacques finally got it. While Francis faced the higher ups, he would have to start the revolt and open the gates. And he'd have to do it quickly too.

—Alright... as you wish.

—I'll be back shortly.

—I'll be waiting.

They shook hands and parted ways. While Jacques went inside the great hall to start the uprising, then open up the west entrance of the fortress, the captain was led higher up into the castle, to the war room of the Duke, where most of his meetings with the generals, admirals and marshals of the royalist army took place.

Only three members of Francis' staff tagged along for "safety reasons", and Commander Rapp didn't seem to mind their presence, since he made no comment about it whatsoever.

They reached the top of the northern tower in less than ten minutes. By then, the great hall was already becoming a disaster zone, with shots being fired, swords being pulled, throats being slashed and brains being blown to pieces. But, being as high in the air as they currently were, the cacophony of the destruction downstairs couldn't be appreciated. The screaming voice of the wind was all that could be heard.

Francis hoped that Jacques and his fellow men would be alright. He hoped that they would all survive.

As he prayed in his head, the commander knocked on the door before stepping in the war room. Then, announced the name of the visitor.

—Oberst Klaus Dessaur? But I've never heard of such man! —the Duke exclaimed, between shocked and annoyed.

Right as he finished talking, the commander moved aside and allowed Francis to walk in.

—I couldn't get in using my real name, could I, your highness? —the captain asked in a serious and sharp tone, that lacked even the most basic empathy and respect.

It was as if, from one second to another, a switch had flipped. All of his worries vanished. All of his sorrow left him. And the only thing that remained was rage.

—Francis? Is that you?!... —the Duke smiled for a second, then frowned—. B-But wait! You were a gardener! What are you doing here, dressed up like this?...

—I became a soldier right as the war broke out. It was the right thing to do, after the King was killed.

—And you joined the Ruhm empire? —Alphonse said with a laughed, and eyed his uniform with disdain—. Why?... Why didn't you join our own forces?

Francis rightfully smirked back. Removed his pistol from his belt and shot the commander who had taken him upstairs straight in the head. In the meanwhile, his men killed the soldiers guarding the room with their bayonets, and locked the doors from the inside. It all happened so fast that the enemy officers had no time to react. Muskets were withdrawn, shots were fired, and the only men left standing in the end were the invaders, General Bautzen and the Duke. Everyone else had somehow ended up dead.

—WHAT IS THE MEANING OF THIS?! —the Duke, scared for his life, cowered against a wall and raised his hands up.

—This? Is the end of your reign of terror, you son of a bitch —the captain said, then looked at Bautzen—. General, you're under arrest. And you're to be taken to Lievre, to be judged for your crimes and your actions. You get to live another day, for you were mostly righteous through the woes of war. But you... —his gaze shifted back to the other man—. You'll have a different fate.

—What?

Francis took a defiant step towards the Duke.

—Did you kill Laura?

—What?

—Did you kill the Duchess?

—She's dead?

—I don't have time for your games, your highness. Just tell me at once. Did you kill her?

—No! What? I didn't even know Laura was dead! And why would you even care about?...

—You're a liar... and you did kill her. I know you killed her! She wrote me a letter telling me you returned to Alvern, and you were hunting her up and down like she was your most beloved prize!

—You're out of line...

—The entire town was burning when I got there! Alvern doesn't exist anymore. And you did it... You killed everyone!

—I did not...

—You needed back up! Right? After Montpierre was taken from your hands you wanted it back, so you wrote to the Ruhm empire, asking for more men! For more guns! And you wrote to them, and demanded that they burned that town to ashes, didn't you?! You knew everyone there supported the revolution! You knew we all wanted the King dead!

—NO!

—YES! YES, YOU DID! BECAUSE LAURA WAS HIDING WITH THE SUZANNET'S AND SHE WAS KILLED IN THAT RUHMNIAN RAID! SHE DIED! ALONG WITH EVERY SINGLE PERSON I LOVED! EVERY SINGLE FRIEND I HAD! SHE DIED, AND YOU CAUSED HER DEATH, BECAUSE YOU GAVE THE ORDER FOR ALVERN TO BE DESTROYED!

—WHY ARE YOU ACCUSING ME OF SOMETHING I DIDN'T DO?! I DIDN'T KNOW WHERE LAURA WAS! I...

—STOP LYING, YOU FILTHY PIG!

The pressure Francis put upon the Duke, by shouting the same accusations over and over again, eventually worked. The man cracked, and admitted that yes, indeed, he had written to the Ruhm empire.

Francis was right, he did need backup in Montpierre, and he also needed support to eradicate the revolutionary army from the south of the country. So he gave the Ruhmnians intel. Told them where the insurgents were hiding. And asked the foreigners to kill them all.

They met up near Alvern, and set the town ablaze. They burned businesses, houses, farms, and even his own palace, so that —if he was caught and taken to the Directory— he could feign innocence for these actions in the future.

Why would someone destroy their own property, after all?

Strategy, that's why.

Alphonse confessed it all out loud, for everyone to hear. He killed innocents, he killed his people, he lied, and he cheated, and he schemed... And still was proud of it all.

But the only thing he kept denying, over and over again, was killing Laura. To that, he would not take responsibility.

According to his own version of the events, he did not know that his wife was still living in Alvern when the raid happened. He thought she had already run far away from there, for good.

—I tried searching for her, but I couldn't find her anywhere! I would have never killed her! I thought she might have gone to the capital! But I...

—SHE WAS THERE, YOU DIM WITTED DONKEY! SHE HAD NOWHERE ELSE TO GO!... —Francis finally lost it for good—. And you... you did murder her! Because your actions! Led! To! Her! Demise! —he declared, right as a loud string of explosions was heard in the distance—. But now... now I'll have the pleasure of sending you to your death! Just like you sent her to hers. And just like your father sent mine to his!

—W-What?...

—The Baron of Forestier! My father! Was killed by yours!... Your father, King James, signed the papers that allowed him to be guillotined for treason!

—I don't know what you are talking about...

—Do you know my name, Alphonse? —Francis asked, with total apathy—. My real name?

—N-No?...

—I am Francesco Caralen Fanton. My father was Damiano Vecchia Fanton. He was a general, who died because he supported the farmers of Alvern, who were protesting against a set of unfair labor laws passed by your father, the King. His support for workers was what got him accused of being a revolutionary, and then killed for it! He was called a traitor of the Kingdom and had his head chopped off right in front of me!... Then my mother died. And I had to leave Forestier, my hometown, and never see my best friend again, because of your family! Do you know who said best friend was, Alphonse? Do you?!... —Francis saw the Duke shake his head—. Who else grew up in Forestier?! Who else, Alphonse?! It was Laura! She was my neighbor!... The first girl I ever loved. The last woman I ever will.

—Y-You and Laura?... —the Duke's frowned turned from angry to repulsed—. What? You both were...

Francis laughed, and because of his anger, allowed himself to be as cruel and crude as he humanly could.

—Yes, you idiot!!! We were together! Had been, since the day I saw her again in your palace! For as long as I've worked for you! I loved your wife, and fucked your wife, better than you ever did! Better than you ever could! And she loved me more than you'd ever hope she could love you!

The Duke was silent for a short second, before having the audacity to exclaim, right in front of his biggest enemy and treat:

—That evil slut!...

Needless to say, he did not finish that sentence.

The captain knocked the words out of his head, and the teeth out of his mouth.

Lips bleeding and nose broken, Alphonse fell to the ground, finding himself too disoriented to try and get up.

—I kissed her bruised body every night... I cared for her wounds when you'd only try to inflict more... I dried her tears, and caressed her scars, and stood by her when the only thing you did, was humiliate her and make her suffer!... And now... Now I finally get to do what she'd never allow me to, if she were alive... —Francis smiled as he got rid of his coat, and rolled the sleeves of his shirt up—. Make you pay.

Months and months of constant fighting, walking, and exercising had turned the already buff body of the former gardener into a pillar of pure stone. His physique was strong, sturdy, and heavy. Alphonse had no way to escape his punches, and no chance of defending himself against his knuckles. And Francis' closed fists simply would not stop coming down on him, no matter what he did to try and evade them.

When the captain was almost done flattening the Duke's face, one of his guards pulled him away —because no, he did not get tired of punching him, and did not want to stop on his own—.

And thank heavens the soldier did. Because by that point, the man below him was unrecognizable.

General Bautzen and the other officers, whom had all stood by them helplessly, found themselves suddenly terrified of Francis, and for good reason.

Right as he wiped his hands clean of Alphonse's blood, using his own pants as a napkin, the door of the room opened, and Charlie walked in.

—Damn, captain! You really fucked that man up, didn't ya? —he laughed, then crossed his arms to look at the agonizing Duke with an amused expression—. Well. Can't say the cunt didn't deserve it.

—Language, Charles —Laupin said, as he arrived as well—. Let's not waste any more time conversing and using foul language, please. General Bautzen, you're under arrest. And Alphonse, holy... mother of God —the commander found himself as equally shocked as the mentioned blond captain was, when his eyes found the broken body of the Duke—. Is he still alive?

—Yes —Francis replied, then looked down—. The bastard will live. But you're right, commander. We can't waste more time. Let's make sure this castle is ours, and dispatch general Bautzen to Lievre as soon as possible, so he can go to trial. Where is Jacques?

—Downstairs with major Luckner. We're almost at the end of the battle. Montpierre is nearly ours. But we should lock these two up in here, and head to the southern tower. We can use the cannons and shoot at the courtyard from there.

—Alright then... —Francis sighed, then looked at the soldiers who had helped him subdue the general and the Duke—. Stay put. Don't let these men run away. We'll be back in a few.

—Yes, monsieur!