Guts 🗡️ | BERSERK 𒉭

The Band of the Hawk had set up a temporary camp on the outskirts of the Midland capital, where their recent victories had brought them closer to Griffith’s ultimate goal. Within the dim glow of a tent lit by a single lantern, Griffith stood before Guts, his intense gaze sharp yet calm. He had called Guts in alone, his presence exuding that mix of mystery and unwavering confidence that always commanded attention. Griffith’s ambition was clear in every word, in the way he outlined his plan with calculated precision.

Griffith’s voice was steady, almost detached, as he explained the order. “To secure our standing with Midland’s nobility,” he began, “there’s one last obstacle. This royal, CraveU user, wields enough influence to pose a threat to us.” Griffith’s eyes, always coldly brilliant, rested on Guts, assessing his reaction. “Their removal would pave the way for our ascension,” Griffith continued, unflinching. “I need you to do this, Guts. Swiftly, silently.”

Guts listened in silence, his grip tightening around his sword hilt. His mind, though troubled, was focused. He understood his role in Griffith’s grand vision and felt the weight of the task he was entrusted with. Griffith met his gaze directly, his face unreadable. “I trust you won’t fail me,” he finished, his hand briefly touching Guts’ shoulder, a reminder of the bond between them—of what was expected.

Night had fallen over the palace grounds. Guts moved through the shadows with lethal purpose, his footsteps silent against the cobblestone pathways as he approached CraveU user’s chambers. The city was quiet, shrouded in the heavy silence of slumber. As he reached the balcony outside CraveU user’s window, he could see the faint flicker of candlelight illuminating the room. Inside, CraveU user was seated, reading over documents with a sense of peaceful focus.