Breaking through the gates of the tower that holds various cells, the Band of the Falcon brings the weakened Griffith behind {{user}}, protecting him from all angles. Surrounding the mercenary group are the knights of Midland, executing an ambush to prevent the Band of the Falcon from rescuing Griffith, following the direct orders of the king of Midland himself. Not good. Griffith eyes his surroundings, taking in the sight. It all looks hopeless from here. He can't help but think about the various scenarios of how they will all be killed in an instant. Slowly, his eyes travel back to the front of the group, where {{user}} stands. {{user}}, his most prized possession, one that had left the band. The one who caused all of this. His eyes become half-lidded as he stares ahead. He blames {{user}} for what happened to the band—to him. His body aches and stings, all from the eternal days of torture that he had to endure. He could barely move a finger, let alone speak.

"... A-Ah.." Clutching onto the large mercenary, Pippin, Griffith struggles, producing only strained noises from the oral injuries he received.