*FORCES KICKS ON*

I CAME BAAAAAAAAAACK!

It turns out that a lovely friend of mine borrowed their laptop so I could just upload a single chapter! Goddamn, never lose hope, brothers!

So it begins… the chase of the Shield Demon! Guts has completely discarded any notion of a peaceful stay in this new world, and now its inhabitants are out for his blood! What happens now?!

Review answers!

[123ABIR123]: Thank you very much! Will do!

[Victor John Foxfire]: Guts IS angry, abandon hope any fool who dares to cross him right now!
Yes! The Waves will be absolutely Hardmode right now, and because Guts is here, I'm serious that soon the world will go to shit – and you'll see how!
Idol Rabier is going down and there's no 'muh morals' here! Or at least, there won't be any moments in which they are not deserved.
About the Lizard King, hm… we'll cross that bridge when we get to it! Nope, Fitoria is absolutely buttblasted and is going to hunt our poor boi down.
Filo is STILL going to appear, but not right now! And nope, nothing can replace the cuteness of her fluffy self ^^

[The Last Kenpachi]: Gods NO! That would be terrible! Although it's very tempting to do so, I can't kill the heroes right now – they serve a purpose, after all!

[Zrocker119]: I was joking about the flames; people have been very sweet right now! And thank you for supporting my story!

[Akin2018]: I couldn't read the light novel because I'm an internet-less poor bastard Dx, I'm not sure about Guts being the ONLY reason the Shield Hero world hasn't been screwed until now – he killed one hero, and now he surely won the hate from the other two!
Fitoria vs Guts is a probability xD if we come to that, pray for a safe outcome! I never heard of the pig king because I'm a stinky anime-only due to internet reasons, but I'll research on the matter! I think I could make an omake about it.

[icedragon811]: Thank you! I'm a bit tired of seeing the usual betrayal and whatnot, so I thought "hey, let's do this!" and this is what came out. And I hope that I don't shit the bed in the later chapters! And god YES I hope I can finish this – I got a bad story with writer's blocks, you see.

[Kill King]: THAT WE NEED, BROTHER! BERSERKtm FOR FUCKING EVERYONE! [Though the rape can go screw itself (I'm fucking looking at you, Griffith -)]

[Doom King of Latveria]: Guts is doing his best! He doesn't want to kill anyone… mostly; it's just that he's a misunderstood soul… pffft – No seriously! Thank you for these kind words! And of course I'll keep going with this!

[Grimfang1]: Wherever Guts goes, he always needs a sudden recall to where he came from – blood and guts: and that's a law. Will do!

[Lightningblade49]: That Shadow is so done lol – I needed her so that I could have an excuse to have Guts curbstomped himself and then unleash him on some unsuspecting fools xd, but she's not a plot-device! She'll surely appear later – and much more dangerous than before.
Man the Shield is so frustrating to write! Lovely RedFistCannon is helping me, yes, but I don't want to soil your experience with such discrepancies and flaws!
Guts' is angry alright – pray that Beast doesn't appear right now T-T

[RedFistCannon]: Speaking of the devil… I already saw you somewhere – and I'm sure I told you something! xD
Thank you for your corrections! I'd never have noticed if not for you, sorry (u - u)

[Kill king]: He didn't kill anyone! Well yes, but NOT everyone! … At least not everyone that was of importance.

[BlueXtreme]: You can thank the Lost Children arc for that – I think that was the trademark Guts everyone knows and expects from him – he's an extraordinary character, yeah, but those chapters were brutal. Fitoria will absolutely know about what he did – and we must pray for our Black Swordsman to survive her.
About monsters causing disasters… :D you'll soon see…

MaxRenRez: It'll hit hard like A FUCKING TRUCK.

xerad: O rlly? Then did you expect what happens in this chapter?!

nofirekiller123: Thank you!

Z: Aaah, I know, I know! Too many POV's in one chapter, I had to write them just for you to know what is Raphtalia doing/where she is!

Zealot24: I'm always happy to read such reviews! And I'm glad I could quell the bleakness inside you, brother! Hope this chapter gives you more happiness! Thank you!

[To Guest 1]: Oh, I don't know about the Queen – but we'll see what happens! Guts must prepare for some nasty journey – pissing off the royalty is not a small thing!

[Guest2]: I THOUGHT I ALREADY CORRECTED THAT, DIDN'T I?! Nah just joking, but I did correct that, comrade!

[Guest3]: WELCOME TO THE RIDEEEEEE HAHAHAHAHAHAHA – please take a snack while you're at it, it's gonna be seven long years…

Slade01: aaah I'm flattered that you think I'm doing his character justice! And there's no way I'd made him serve another King after what the other old bastard did to the Hawks, hell naw! And the Shadow won't be forgotten – in fact, their appearances will be a deep thorn in Guts' side in the future.

Thank you for your support! Sit tight!^^

[Wow]: If they do then they must be prepared for the fight! Guts being angry never gets old lol

[Hmm23]: AND even then, Fitoria would still track him down… for other reasons.

Thank you everyone for your reviews!

Well then, prepare yourselves! Shit's going down even further!

CHAPTER FOUR: THE HUNT.

Flying like hell with Dragonslayer felt like he was gliding through air – despite the arrows that stuck from his back and his right shoulder. In midair, Guts didn't felt heavy, despite him sporting numerous bleeding cuts all over his body – and even if his arm burned and trembled with the exertion of keeping his grip on the humongous sword.

His mind didn't feel hazy, nor did the collective exhaustion he stacked over the weeks came to him at that moment…

Perhaps that's because he had just been blown out from his feet by some gust of wind and was now flipping in the air – coughing blood and gasping in surprise as the skies seemed to replace the ground and the numerous buildings in the waning light of the sunset became the clouds.

Jerking himself as much as he could so that he could crash on his feet, Guts did so – rolling with a grunt and kicking dust everywhere, jerking the arrows on his back – and he was pretty sure they just deepened on his skin, and he heaved blood mixed with saliva, glaring with desperate, enraged frustration at the ever-growing number of Knights and robed figures.

Ones who he tried to kill with swings of Dragonslayer – but to his everlasting rage, they didn't do anything.

*Thump!* The pathetic blow didn't ever kick a gust against the Knight's frame, and they paid his shock with a cut to his arm – driving him to crush the hell out of their throat and then throw a dagger towards them – just to feel another crackle, and to see its futile impact on one Knight's breastplate.

Their rising confidence showed clearly in their faces.

He didn't even knock them off, nor even wind them!

The roar of rage he let out as a barrage of arrows slammed onto him echoed all over the street.

Realizing his helplessness and his whole situation's uselessness, the Black Shieldsman gritted his teeth in defeat, and once again whirled around, running down the street as a volley of arrows fell upon him, one scratching his cheek and the other lodging in the back of his thigh – the wounds going unnoticed by him. The shouted orders behind him merged with the pumping of his heart and his chocked, wet breathing.

As he ran, he sheathed Dragonslayer forcefully, finally ripping the arrows from his back and finding himself almost unaffected by all the pain and loss of blood – huh – and then reaching to his satchel, bringing a bit of black powder and dumping it in the cannon's orifice, and then a cannonball filled the empty space of the thing, and then, in rapid sequence, he turned around so his back was at the front and he was staring right at the Guards with a mad snarl, yanking the handle connected to the cannon, he aimed at the group –

FISS!

And got a goddamn lance in his right pauldron, with the fucking cannon not shooting the goddamn ball cannon as it should have - and he pushed himself to run farther away from them, feeling the numb pain of an almost dislocated shoulder – so it did recoil as always, huh? FUCK– and then mind-numbing pain as lightning coursed from his prosthetic to all his body – and clenching his teeth through the pain, he glanced towards the crowd and as he expected… the spectacle didn't do fucking anything, making some noise, sure, but causing nothing but leave them a little scared.

The Black Shieldsman didn't think twice and exploited the hesitation – throwing himself towards an alleyway, raking his brain for a way to not get himself impaled and to get the hell out of the city.

Scratch the gates – probably they're manned with cannons if these things I fought at the outside were any hint –

So where? Where the fuck could I go? Puck's nowhere in sight and I can't fight properly thanks to this fucking Shield –

Another volley of arrows from up from the right, and Guts covered himself with his fake-arm.

The sewers…! He thought faintly, eye widening in realization, but then shook his head. Don't know where the hell it is… fuck – gotta make a distraction or somethin'…

A fire? I don't think this fucking shit would actually not let me start a fire somewhere, right? Shit, I have to try -

His mind sprang back to the flames of the Castle – crushed bones, breathless screams splattered innards with strands of red hair and scared, young dark-blue eyes at the end of his hand – and he shook his head, gritting his teeth as he bore the pulsing ache in his head and once again reloaded his cannon –

-and almost got himself killed by a goddamn lance of all things. "Get the Demon!" Someone roared, and not two, but four other spears landed on him – their pointy ends chipping his armor and tearing the fabric of his cloak, but he didn't pay them no mind, and once again, cannon at the ready, he darted his eye to look for anything flammable – and spotted a row of carriages at the front…

…and Guards positioned in front of them, as well as other robed figures.

Who had witnessed the earlier failure of his prosthetic, and were confidently stepping forwards.

Guts smiled sadistically. Perfect. And aimed his cannon towards the carriage-line…

Then something just… exploded just right in front of him.

Guts managed to cross his arms before shrapnel could dig deep inside his right forearm – the Shield saving his limb, but it couldn't be the same for the front of his thighs – and his body once again flew backwards – utterly pushed by the shockwave of the blast.

He crashed through a window and rolled, utterly blindsided. Unhesitating, he dashed towards the other side of the current room – some sort of jewelry – and then feel something connect harshly with his back –

Shit – he managed to still keep himself steady, and whirled just in time to see a dagger rushing towards his face – and he blocked it with the Shield. Then bashed whoever the fuck was there with it, with fruitless results.

The dagger-owner then slammed their leg on his side – driving a grunt from him – gotta take more than fucking that – and Guts knew he'd be fighting a losing battle if he stood there doing fucking nothing.

So he cocked his cannon and fired it once again.

At the person's face.

Their spluttering was enough for him to take the discovered chance and rammed his entire frame towards them, and when his fingers coiled around something, he pulled and crushed it until he could feel the delicious crack of bones –

A kick to his chin was the response, but he didn't waver –

Another glimpse and the dagger appeared once again –

Guts clamped his teeth down on its broadside before it could chop his face – the action no doubt cutting his lips and the edges of his mouth, with him tasting the copper taste of blood – and with the newfound anchor, his hand once again secured itself around a shoulder – and popped it out of its socket.

The pained gasp was undoubtedly from a female, yet Guts didn't waver. With a muted roar, he charged towards the wall – crashing the person against shelves filled with things made out of glass, and he almost stumbled once and swallowed the whole blade.

The person almost tried to saw his mouth in the middle of his rush, but if Guts' fucking teeth weren't chipped by a fucking Giant Moth's proboscis like Rosine's, what would a fucking puny dagger like this one do to him?

So Guts held strong and finally slammed his enemy against the wall – once again feeling the pain of lightning, but this didn't affect him as he then pushed his forearm over a garbed torso and against a neck.

Guts could feel the desperation in his enemy's movements with twice the intensity.

He didn't take mercy on them.

He twisted his arm, and broke their neck.

*CRACK!*

The person's struggles ceased, with their other free hand – hadn't he fucked their shoulder up? - In its way to claw his eye out, and he spat the dagger out – and finally looked towards the owner's face.

A cloaked face, covered in shadows –

Ah. Guts stumbled away from the corpse, and the cloaked figure – now a woman – slipped against the wall and on the floor, lifeless.

Then I must force you to abide the King's word, and serve the people of Melromarc.

The Black Shieldsman didn't linger too much – for then, the window he crashed through earlier was occupied by the encroaching figure of a Knight.

Shit – Guts aimed his cannon towards him, noticing the sudden flinch and the too young gasp at his movement.

The FISS! of smoke was enough to cover his frame, and Guts then darted towards a door – and he utterly slammed it out of its hinges as he entered through some sort of living room and then he jumped through another window –

And soon was freefalling.

Fuck fuck fuck fuck He crossed his arms in front of his face once again, and he only could catch a glimpse of some sort of gleam before he braced himself for the fall.

*SPLAAAAAASH!*

The world suddenly went cold and he immediately sunk as Dragonslayer and his sheer weight were too much for him to stay afloat easily, Guts eye widened as he clawed his way to go back to the surface, managing it at a torturous pace. He resurfaced with a strained gasp – feeling his body burn all over, and checked where the fuck he was -

And immediately pinpointed it as the goddamn inner river in the city. "Fuck," disgust rolled in and out of him in waves – he was literally swimming in shit. The ruckus and chaos heard all over the city seemingly attracted all the guards towards the explosion, but the Shieldsman still dived, only coming out to inhale stale air just for a second, much to his eternal revulsion.

Soon he neared towards the end – bars that he could never hope to break in his current state signified the end of the swimming, and he trudged his way out of the disgusting river towards the nearest inner dock, lifting himself out of the water with a pained groan.

He had to clean himself quick or else he'll fall on his feet soon.

Wrapping his cloak over himself, Guts checked his surroundings – it seemed the Guards had put their citizens in confinement all over the city. Guts breathed out and ran towards an alleyway – ignoring the way his insides churned with the rearing feeling of hunger and his legs trembled with the steady loss of blood – shit. "Shit." He voiced his thought out loud, closing his eye and counting to ten, and then he ran again.

Soon he neared the wall close enough to check the gates – and certainly, cannons and carriages and an immeasurable amount of Guards and Knights were positioned all over the place, and no way in hell Guts could go through that – with Dragonslayer that'd be a walk through the garden, but now…

Fuck, shit, fuck. He cursed, gritting his teeth as he cradled his dagger with his right arm – the pain simultaneously grounding him and reminding him of his problem. Guts then decided to change course – going towards the other side and heading towards…

Hell… where should he go? To the blacksmith's?

…actually, that could be a possibility – he needed a distraction, something he could start a fire with – and his powder was fucked up thanks to the river, anyway, same with his cannon.

Shit.

Nightfall crept upon him, and before he knew it, he began to feel like shit. Like his cloak, his feet slogged and his goddamn legs burned like hell – and more than once he threw-up, and he felt cold. "Fuck," he mumbled for the nth time that night.

Another light of a lantern, and he hid himself in the shadows – and his head lolled dangerously low, making him reach to his satchel to pick a herb –

Ah, right, the river of shit.

As if him being literally soaked in it wasn't enough.

"Goddamnit," he growled, forcing himself to move despite the world slowly tilting on his feet, and…far, shouted orders reached his ears – and Guts knew he was in trouble.

"He's over here!"
"Go, go, go!"

Finally, some competence in this bullshit. He thought, sardonically, glancing at the shadows casted on the alleyway to find a rising amount of silhouettes appearing at the end.

"S'you waited fo' me to get this way, huh?" Guts slurred – fuck, he was going numb – glaring at them through his drooping eyelid, "Congratulations, y'pieces of shit; you finally 'came a worthy challenge for me."

The Guards began to close on him, slowly materializing from the shadows with their swords bared to the air – rushing towards him–

Straightening himself with all his might, Guts bared his teeth in savage anger, and despite it being low his voice couldn't carry his bloodlust better, "That's it! Come back at me! Come so I can finally taste some bit of fucking home!"

He clenched his fist, and was going to unsheathe Dragonslayer – as his eye narrowed in dreading realization, as his soul quivered with fear as he finally came to accept the uselessness of his defiance –

As he knew he was going to die in some fucking shithole in the middle of nowhere – far from everything.

Far from Casca.

No, he couldn't give up –

The cold stare of a dark, pointy helmet. A crimson, slit-eye staring down at him with apathetic scorn –

"Still squirming in your pitiful existence, I see."

He won't give up.

As a defiant roar choked with rage and despair was going to start his last stand, and with a flourish that didn't befit his weakened state, Guts finally bared Dragonslayer from the covers of his cloak, and the lightning coursed through his veins, replacing the blood and giving him the pain he needed to stay sharp – as the zenith of the humongous slab of iron clashed against the roundness of the moon, splitting it in half with its mighty size –

*SPLSSSSSSHHHH!*

He didn't expect the smoke bomb, though.

Guts was roughly grasped to the side and it was by sheer instinct he punched whoever the fuck dared to touch him in the goddamn face with his fake-arm –

A bald, impassive familiar face, and then a slam of a closing door, and he was in the inside of an underground store.

He couldn't even gape at Ergard's face as his eye rolled upwards and his body gave on him.

.

.

.

Guts rose from a dreamless slumber – and the first thing he felt was relief, and warmth; two things he could only tag with one place: Godo's house.

Was it all a dream…? He blinked drowsily – the agony of his legs making him draw shuddering breaths, and he couldn't feel anything from his left shoulder to downwards. He turned his head – and his neck roared at him in painful flares, but when his eye could finally glance at his right arm… the Shield was there.

It was there, absolutely pristine and in excellent conditions – and despite his calm surface, Guts' rage slammed into the front of his mind and he wished to rip his own arm and get another fake one if it mean getting rid of that fucking nuisance.

A noisy cringe, and then a sympathetic whistle, "Damn, they really did a number on you, you know."

Guts' stare strayed at an unaffected – of course he would be – Ergard, cannon-arm on his hands, being currently wiped clean with a towel. The man exhaled, and drew a chair and sat just a ways at the side of the bed. "Can't believe I found you still holding that thing and half-dead and bleeding all over the place!" With an exasperated shake of his head, the bald man asked, "What the hell were you even doing?"

"That isn't your fucking business," Guts groused, trying to get up only for his muscles to lock in and leave him gasping and slumping on the bed again, sweat rolling down his forehead as pain flared once again – and his insides even ached. "How'd you find me?" He asked instead, staring at the ceiling as the agony ebbed away – and he realized just by now he was covered in bandages from neck to toe.

"Saw you back in that alleyway not 4 hours ago," the man then got up and walked towards a shelf – where his armor and weapons laid, Dragonslayer propped against the wall at the side. The blacksmith seemed to have treated his anxiety with taking care of his gear, it seemed. "The city's in a lockdown and you're being chased like a goddamn criminal – the hell did you do, lad?"

Guts' eye narrowed towards the man, and he deigned him a response. "The King," He spat the title, already growing furious at the mere memory, "Tried to frame me with – with assaulting some woman – that piece of shit sonuva-"

"Woah, woah," Ergard's eyes widened, "You – you were put on trial by the King?!"

"What fucking gives?," staring at the side, feeling the exhilaration in his guts recede to numb molasses, Guts breathed harshly, "Can't fucking remember what happened afterwards – everything was a blur."

He didn't know what came to him –

"He threw himself at me-"

Brown, tainted skin with cascades of blood running over her bitten breasts and gashed torso, face pulled painfully towards a pale mouth –

"Said that the night is still young-"

Guts slammed his fist against the wall, startling Ergard with his outburst. Not even feeling a bit of pain he did it again and again – nothing coming out of it but his own frustration and –

Harsh thrust, pained moans –

"Goddamn it," He pulled his hair, clenching his eye shut, trying to wipe the images and the face of that terrified redhead – that fucking girl, what was she thinking –

"Hey, lad? What's wrong –"

D-don't look –

Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuck-

He had to walk, to go somewhere – he had to swing Dragonslayer on something, goddamn it.

Guts heaved his legs to the side, sitting on the bed's edge, and then tried to get up – and Ergard hesitantly tried to stop him, to no avail. "Don't touch me." Guts warned, and the blacksmith weighed the ups and downs of refusing the man's order… and he finally backed off.

He walked towards Dragonslayer, "Hey," Ergard said, but the Shieldsman ignored him completely and clamped his hand around its hilt – and the pain once again came back to him.

This time, Guts couldn't bear it, and let go of it.

He collapsed on his ass, and gripped his face with his hand, breathing deeply.

A moment of tense silence enveloped both, and it was Ergard who broke it.

"What the hell were you thinking?" The blacksmith asked, glaring at the man's back for the lack of any mean to spend his anger.

Guts didn't answer, staring blankly at his hand.

Ergard knew he was going to get nothing from this, and sighed once again, and got out of the room, leaving Guts to his own thoughts.

That would soon to be a mistake.

The Black Shieldsman gripped his face with twice the intensity, brows furrowing in crushing desperation as he tried to come up with a solution with his mess, coming up with nothing but a deep void of nothing. "Fuck," Guts tried to get up – standing on trembling legs, and walked once again towards his armory, bringing his hand against his breastplate.

His eye traced the faint scratches, the dents, and the stains that coated its surface, and never before Guts felt so much despondency towards his armor – that no longer seemed to have any reason to be wore, with his helpless state, and his eye then strayed towards the Shield, and he breathed in, and rubbed his face with his hand harshly.

"Focus, focus." He couldn't no longer use Dragonslayer – a painful thought, but now growing as a cold fact; its sheer uselessness against the Knights being the last nail, and he couldn't even punch someone neither – and that's where his extreme anxiety soon began to take him over.

What now, then? His fucking cannon and crossbow no longer served him anymore – he couldn't use his throwing knives, either. He was essentially bare, lugging dead weight that only hindered his speed and just reminded him of what he couldn't no longer do –

His main weapon, one of the main reasons he was alive, was ruthlessly stripped from him.

This was like that moment all over again after the Eclip– fuck, Guts couldn't have himself remembering. He had to think. Think, think, think…

What can I do? Look for someone? Flee from it all? I can't even know what the fuck should I do right now! His breathing became hoarse, and he inhaled between gritted teeth. How? How can I fight now? What if an Apostle appears and I can't fight back?

What if it's something else? What if I can't no longer hold a blade? What if - what if –

What if I can't no longer go back to Casca?

Guts choked, and he pinched his brow harshly – and he got up, stomping towards the door and opening it harshly, looking anywhere for a means to get out – he had to get his mind out of this, he couldn't – he couldn't think –

Him gripping Casca's throat as Guts futilely ran towards him sans Dragonslayer – Apostles killing everyone, Guts unable to do anything – Judeau ripped to shreds while screaming for help – Pippin unable to fend off the Apostles because Guts couldn't do anything –

Apostles precipitated on him from the chasms – and Guts sprang towards them, muscles straining beyond their limits as he tore into one of their eyes - Guts began to run – and the halls stretched endlessly and he was screamingandhecouldn'tnolongerbareitallanymore –

A slam to his back – sending him towards an invisible wall -

Rickert crying in terror Corkus dying because Guts couldn't kill the Succubus

A husk digging into his side – Guts responding with a savage clawing on the Apostle's human face -

Gaston's head exploding in front of him - Spirits hoarding over him as he couldn't defend himself

Teeth clamping on his shoulder – him crushing an arm -

A tentacle lashing at his forehead – him biting down on it –

Casca's empty stare boring into his soul

Masses of muscle and fat and hair piling over him – digging their claws on every single pore of his body

GRIFFITH STARING – SMIRKING AT HIM WHILE HE SLOWLY STRANGLED THE LIFE OUT OF HIM -

YOUREOURSHE'SMINEIWANTHISBONESYESYESYESYOURSOULISMINESODELICIOUS

"GGGAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHH!" Ripping the bandages of his body – feeling blood spurt out of him immediately – Guts ran, and ran, and ran… yet his sprint didn't carry him anywhere, the halls slowly darkening around him as he began to feel cold and his body slowly burned –

His feet stopped cold at a faint, almost unnoticeable spark…

The burgundy outline of a lean, armored shoulder, running along the sleek line of a neck, connecting with a hairless head.

Guts' eye widened.

The slow, lazy rise of a head – the disinterested swipe of a single eye, washing over him and immediately discarding him like a disgusting critter –

Guts' mouth twisted to snarl.

The fixing of a cold stare… and the cruel, mocking twist of violet, painted lips.

"GRIIIIIFFFFFIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIITH!" Guts launched himself towards the man, roaring from the core of his soul as spittle ran from his mouth and his wounds reopened and he was running through a pool of blood Casca lying brokenly at the demon's feet tendrils and hands and paws crashing on his back ripping his eye open –

Guts woke up with a scream.

Raphtalia didn't know whether to be terrified or elated that she was outside the city's walls – by the skin of her teeth, no less: it all consisted on Puck's tricking the eyes of the Guards, Raphtalia scurrying quickly through any gaps and openings and hiding in the shadows, tense moments where she almost sobbed in terror – and then, cool gusts of wind, and the vast expanse of grasslands.

All under the light of the moon. For the first time in months, Raphtalia ran – and this time, she ran with so much strength behind her legs she couldn't help but feel lightheaded as she laughed, growing and growing the space between Hell and herself.

She skipped over roots, she jumped over rocks, she ran and ran and she was accompanied by Puck and she couldn't think anymore –

Alas, exhaustion came to her, and she panted, supporting herself on her knees as Puck slowly fluttered towards her, smile stretching his cheeks and exuding so much happiness she couldn't help but smile too – even if she was near the forest, even if she was aware she was alone.

The dagger she stole from the prison told her otherwise – she wasn't alone, Puck told her, "You're with me," he said, growing sober and staring at her with conviction, "And soon you can go on with your life."

Remembering the hidden meaning in his words, Raphtalia breathed in, and turned towards the elf, "P-Puck," she said, stumbling due to fatigue numbing her mouth, "What did you mean when you said that?"

"Aah," he rubbed his head, "I'm not gonna leave my friend back there, if that's what you asked!"

The big man, she faintly remembered, and her eyes widened when she remembered another thing – the Shield! He was the Shield Hero!

"The Shield Hero?!" She asked and said at the same time, tail wagging fiercely in wonder and anxiousness – where was he?! Was he in danger?! She heard he did the unforgivable back at the Royal Castle – but what kind of action could drive an entire city to pande – pandem… to have them scared?!

"More like the Shield Oaf!" Puck huffed, crossing his arms petulantly, "He's so nasty! But yeah, him – though I don't think you should call him like that – it gets him mad."

"Oh," Wilting a bit with that bit of information, Raphtalia regained her enthusiasm as she asked, "Then how should I call him? Sir Hero? Or just Mister Hero?"

Laughing at the innocence in her questions, Puck had to wince a little inside as he sheepishly revealed the man's name. "Actually… just call him Guts."

A moment of silence in which only wind was the only background noise and Raphtalia's ears twitched once. "…Guts?"

"Yeah, a bit of a weird name, but you should know him! He's like the true embodiment of that word: he's strong, he's brave and…" Growing mischievous, Puck then cradled his chin like a thinker would, as then went off with his rant.

"He's dirty! He's dumb! He likes being bathed in all sort of weird things!" At that, Raphtalia seemed physically recoiling at the extremely honest description, but the elf's smile couldn't be smugger. "And he can't stand up to me! Because without me, he couldn't be where he is right now!"

"Woah," Sparks twinkled in her eyes, and Raphtalia blinked once, and then frowned, "Wait, since when do you know the Shield –"

"Guts." Puck easily corrected.

"…Since when do you know Mister Guts?"

Actually, that doesn't sound bad. Snickering, Puck scrambled through his memory – remembering the too-graphic view of Guts utterly massacring the group of thieves that once intended to use Puck as a bull's-eye, and then him treating like he was a bug…

"We met in a bar, and he defeated an evil snake!" He simplified it, and thought it was worth it when Raphtalia's brows furrowed in disappointment.

"Uh."

"Well anyways!" The elf exclaimed, fluttering towards the sky, and squinting towards the city, "I don't think we could go back there… Ugh, why Guts must always be in trouble…" During his bemoaning, Puck didn't notice the encroaching, round monsters creeping on Raphtalia – until a Balloon roared as it sprang towards her.

And Raphtalia, almost by sheer instinct alone – or by luck – frenziedly pointed the dagger at the Balloon, causing it to kill itself as it couldn't change the trajectory towards the other end of the blade.

From there, hell once again came back to Raphtalia, and she screamed in fright as the monsters crowded around her – and Puck was already there, "Raph, watch your back!" And the girl turned to see another Balloon jumping towards her –

Oh no! Puck screamed inside his head, and the Balloon clamped its jaws around Raphtalia's forearm – drawing blood and a bloodcurdling scream from the girl, and she stabbed it in desperation – narrowly not slicing her arm off by pure chance.

With an arm out of commission and her almost wetting the scraps that served as a robe, Raphtalia's heart was slowly being gripped by mind-numbing fear – until Puck's voice rang over her, "Raphtalia! You have to fight!"

Gripping the dagger with all her might, teeth clattering in terror and eyes darting at any noise and movement – Raphtalia tried to steel herself, but when another Balloon jumped towards her, she almost lost her composure once again, if it weren't for Puck plunging a tiny, almost worthless blade of grass in the Balloon's eye.

"Take that!" The elf shouted, and then whirled towards the girl, "Raphtalia! I know you're scared – but Guts always is too! He just needs to land his sword on something so he can feel brave!"

"But I'm not him!"

"Ah! Uuh," Argument utterly crushed by the girl's obvious reasoning, Puck scrambled for anything he could use to help her. "Ah! It doesn't matter! These things won't be gentle with you even if you say that!"

If you're always worried about crushing the ants beneath you… you won't be able to walk.

"So come on! Fight on! I'll be there to back you on!"

"I can't!" Raphtalia said, and then when another Balloon jumped at her, she darted herself at the side and then began to run – once again dashing away while the Balloons chased her, and Puck hurriedly fluttered behind her, wishing with all his might that Guts was here.

Where the hell is he, anyways?!

The man's outburst was heard even through the walls - and Ergard rushed towards the guestroom, only to find the Shield Hero trashing on the floor, obviously in the middle of a hallucination.

The blacksmith poured cold water on him.

"Hey, knock it off!" He shouted, watching with tense shoulders as the man seemed to twitch in the spot, breath erratic and almost to the point of looking demented.

Guts panted rapidly, and then he looked towards Ergard, and soon swore under his breath.

"Here's your pay," Guts mumbled, the clatter of golden coins ringing in the room, and Ergard silently accepted them, looking at the once-again armed man with furrowed eyebrows, "Now what're you going to do?"

"Towards the sewers – get the fuck out of here." The man answered, and the blacksmith lifted an eyebrow.

"The sewers?" Ergard asked – where was the elf, actually? And Guts nodded, impassive, "Yeah – but there's someone else too."

"Hah?" Unable to shrug the irritation at the man's reticence, Ergard leaned on the counter, urging the man to speak.

"Do you know what can I do with this?" The man gestured at his Shield, almost looking resigned with it.

"Damn…" Ergard looked painfully devoid of any suggestion, and Guts sighed, expecting it – "Well, that'd mean you should come back here – no, actually, let's do this already."

"What are you talking about?" Confused by the man's ranting, Guts watched as Ergard went back to the forges and came back with an assortment of objects – glasses filled with something, smoke bombs, a rope, and…was that a fucking pickaxe? "Here." He dumped all the things on the counter, and Guts stared at them, and then at the blacksmith, like he was insane.

"The fuck you think you're doing giving me this?"

"You can't fight." Ergard said, earning himself a withering scowl, but he kept on, "So the best you can do is flee and hope for them to leave you alone, or," The blacksmith's stare was serious, "seek someone to help you – and I say this because it's a fucking necessity, lad." The man's swear was overlooked by Guts, who twisted his lips into a half-hearted grimace.

"So what? That's all?"

"Yes."

Guts stared at the man, then forcefully took all the tools, stuffed them in its satchel, and went towards the door, "See ya."

Ergard didn't answer, and Guts once again got out into the night. Don't die, lad.

And the Shieldsman swiftly – thanks to the Ergard's directions – ran to the sewer system of the city, where he could find his disgusting escape.

Guts arrived to the entrance, where a door seemed to lead to a downwards path, and only ten Guards were guarding it.

Taking into accord that (unbeknownst to him) Ergard had used several Healing Potions to patch him up, Guts now felt better than ever, and this he showed by blatantly walking up to the Guards, who only noticed him when he was at a steps from them – thanks to his black cloak.

"Move aside," he demanded, but carried on with his stuff anyway.

A moment later, he was pushing a corpse off the way with his feet and reaching the set of stairs and walking downwards, and soon the disgusting odor of mixed shit with other fucked up stuff slammed his nostrils, and as if his mind didn't got enough –

Scared, brown eyes – confused fear, a huge wound on his chest-
reaching for the corpse of his father, not fully catching his face -
he kneeled, and took the child's hand with his own – and his own heart slammed erratically inside-

He braced himself with the wall, and he nearly threw-up – and what else would he throw up? His fucking innards? He didn't eat in the whole fucking day – his stomach was burning, and he was pretty sure he spotted some black dots appearing in his sight.

Goddamn it. He swore, feeling annoyed with himself – the fuck's with his mind today? As if being chased all the fucking afternoon wasn't enough…

Guts lurched, tilting his feet dangerously on the steps – and he shrugged the pain of his stomach and the cold sweat on his skin, staggering forwards. Guts finally reached the bottom of the stairs – and once again had to brace himself with the wall to not crash on his face.

Were those fucking bandages poisoned or something –he tried to chuckle, but only a wheeze escaped from his mouth.

Fuck, he needed to get some of Puck's dust fast.

Guts' escape wasn't perfect, for another cloaked figure watched him from the shadows of the sewer, but unlike the other one – this one was garbed in black, and a silver mask stared at his back.

The Queen's Shadow disappeared, and Guts slowly made his path to freedom.

*Waiting so Long kicks on*

Alright, perhaps this chapter isn't that good, but I had to update quickly, because... this truly might be the last update I might do in months. Basically, what happened is that my PC won't work for a while, and I'm uploading this chapter from my friend's laptop.

So yeah... there won't be much chapters for some time, I'm very sorry.

Thank you so much for all your support! I swear I'll come back!

See ya!