Seeing her face among the many in the monastery makes Ashe remember. Remember a time he wishes he could forget. Makes him remember the pain on Lonato's face. Makes him remember how withdrawn his adoptive father became. Makes him remember his own pain at the loss of his own brother. Her face is not one he ever wanted to see again.


Ashe finds himself in the cathedral far more often than he used to. He shouldn't be surprised at Lonato's rebellion. He should've seen it coming. How had he not seen it? Ashe wonders briefly if it's because of him that Lady Rhea assigned the Blue Lion house to the cleanup of the rebellion. Was this her way of punishing him for not knowing about the rebellion? No, that's madness. Or, at least that's what he tries to tell himself. The day of the mission is upon him soon. Ashe gets no sleep the night before.


Ashe is silent on the road back to the monastery. Tears aren't coming. No matter how he tries, the tears won't come. Lonato, his siblings, Gaspard citizens, all dead. Yet still no tears. The professor keeps his distance. Ashe isn't sure if that's for the better or for the worse. Prince Dimitri is the only one that approaches him, but Ashe turns away. Ashe had seen the way he had struck down the Gaspard militia. Perhaps Felix is right in calling him a boar. Regardless, Ashe wants no pity from the prince. His eyes are drawn briefly to her. She's not paying attention to him. Why would she? After all, the archbishop's life could be in danger. Suddenly, she reminds him of the dog that guarded his town's drunkard. Biting all that would threaten their rotten master. Ashe isn't sure if he likes where his thoughts are headed.


The entirety of the monastery is on alert. The supposed assassination plot weighs heavily on everybody's mind. Nobody more so than her. She's always as close as she can be to the archbishop as she can be. The storm brewing in Ashe's mind reaches a fever pitch. He needs to do something. Anything. Suddenly, Ashe is far more interested in stopping the attack.


The monastery is abuzz once more. The news of the professor wielding the Sword of the Creator spreads like wildfire. Of course, others are celebrating the safety of the archbishop. Ashe had never seen so many drinks being passed around in the dining hall. It's far too easy to slip the tonic, quite easily poached from Claude's room, into her drink. At the end of the night, she staggers off to her quarters. Ashe follows, dagger in hand.


It's far too easy to get in. She's passed out, oblivious to all that his happening around her. The tonic seemed to be doing its job. Ashe moves silently toward her. For a moment, he pauses. He hears Lonato and Christophe in his head, urging him on. This is for them, he reminds himself. She destroyed his life. It's only fair that he evens the score.

He gently presses the dagger against her throat. One stroke, and it's over. Ashe breathes heavily. He stares at the blood-coated dagger in his , it feels like there's two of him. One, urging him to turn himself in, cursing his senseless quest for revenge. The other goads him to flee, to disappear into the night. It doesn't take long for Ashe to be out of the monastery.


Two days is all it takes for the Knights of Seiros to catch him. Ashe doesn't pay attention to anything happening around him as he's brought before the archbishop. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees the professor, and the rest of the Blue Lions. The professor's face betrays nothing, but Ashe can't help but feel disappointment coming from the former mercenary. Ashe doesn't bother trying to argue his innocence. Even if he was innocent, he doubted the archbishop would agree. Ashe is silent on his way to the guillotine, and still says nothing as the blade is raised. It's strange, he thinks, that it's only before his execution that he finally feels fulfilled. The blade falls, and the arrow of justice is broken in two.