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Few anime betrayals have seared themselves into the collective memory of fans like Griffith’s actions in Berserk. His decision to sacrifice the Band of the Hawk during the Eclipse turned one of the medium’s most beloved characters into a symbol of ultimate treachery. Once admired for his charisma, intelligence, and dream-driven leadership, Griffith’s transformation into Femto, a demonic member of the God Hand, felt like a spiritual and emotional massacre for both the characters and viewers.
But the question that has haunted fans for decades is this: was Griffith always going to betray his comrades, or did he have a choice?
This isn’t just a question of plot—it’s a moral, philosophical, and psychological riddle. Was Griffith a victim of his own ambition, broken by the consequences of his dreams? Or did he cross a line that no amount of pain, purpose, or pressure could ever justify?
In this exploration, we’ll examine the layers behind Griffith’s betrayal: his psychological profile, his motivations, the metaphysical mechanics of the Berserk universe, and the reactions of key characters like Guts and Casca. The goal isn’t to forgive Griffith—but to understand the inevitability or avoidability of his fall from grace.
The Dream That Demanded Everything
Griffith’s driving force from the beginning of Berserk was his dream—to rise from nothing and rule a kingdom. Unlike many anime characters whose goals are vague or moralistic, Griffith’s was razor-sharp: he would become a king, no matter the cost.
What made him so compelling was his ability to make this dream look noble. He inspired loyalty, moved the hearts of commoners and nobles alike, and built the Band of the Hawk into an unstoppable military force. He was charming, graceful, and composed—a visionary with gravity. And yet, Berserk constantly hinted at the depth of his ambition and the darkness beneath the surface.
In a chilling conversation, Griffith tells Princess Charlotte that anyone who does not have their own dream is unworthy to stand beside him. This cold idealism reveals the hierarchy in his mind: those with dreams are equals; those without are tools.
So when that dream was threatened, could he ever have not sacrificed others to save it?
The Breaking Point: Imprisonment, Torture, and Despair
Griffith’s decline wasn’t sudden—it was brutal and prolonged. After sleeping with Charlotte to elevate his political standing, he is imprisoned and tortured for a year. His body is broken, his tongue is cut, and his ambitions crumble.
This period of intense suffering breaks Griffith’s illusion of control. No longer a prince of war, he becomes a ruined man—powerless, mute, and on the brink of death. When Guts returns to rescue him, it ironically leads to the moment that seals everyone’s fate.
In a haunting carriage scene, Griffith realizes that with his ruined body, his dream is dead. And to a man like Griffith, whose identity is inseparable from that dream, life without purpose is worse than death.
Enter the Behelit—the demonic artifact that, when activated, opens the way for a sacrifice to ascend to godhood. Griffith’s choice, in that moment, is couched in cosmic cruelty. The God Hand offer him the one thing he’s always wanted: the chance to fulfill his dream. The price? The lives of the very people who helped him chase it.
The Eclipse: Betrayal in Blood
What follows is one of the most infamous scenes in anime and manga history—the Eclipse. Griffith activates the Behelit and becomes Femto, sacrificing the Band of the Hawk as his offering.
This is betrayal not only in action, but in philosophy. Griffith didn’t just kill his friends—he gave them over to be brutally slaughtered, including Casca, who is raped by Femto in front of a restrained Guts. The emotional, physical, and symbolic betrayal here is absolute.
It’s no longer about achieving a dream—it’s about annihilating everyone who once believed in it.
So was this decision inevitable?
Some fans argue yes. Griffith’s singular vision, coupled with his shattered body and the cosmic manipulations of the God Hand, made the betrayal an unavoidable endpoint. Others argue no—Griffith had a choice and made it of his own free will. He could’ve died broken but loyal. He chose power over people.
Guts vs Griffith: Clash of Ideals
No character represents the cost of Griffith’s betrayal more than Guts. Once his closest friend—and perhaps the only one Griffith saw as an equal—Guts was the only person who ever walked away from Griffith’s dream. That loss shook Griffith to the core.
After the Eclipse, Guts becomes a force of rage and survival. His journey becomes one of vengeance, yes, but also one of wrestling with trauma, grief, and a sense of betrayal that transcends violence.
The ideological divide between Guts and Griffith is stark: Guts fights for survival, for others, for something real. Griffith sacrifices everything real for something ideal. This makes their conflict the emotional axis of Berserk—two men who once stood side-by-side now stand on opposite ends of a spiritual war.
Femto and Falconia: Savior or Tyrant?
Even after his transformation, Griffith’s role is complex. As Femto, he becomes a messianic figure who founds Falconia, a sanctuary city that protects humanity from monstrous threats. To the outside world, he appears divine—a hero, a leader, a savior.
But those who know the truth—Guts, Casca, and longtime fans—see him as a butcher cloaked in holy light.
This duality raises another key question: can a world built on betrayal ever be just? Can Griffith truly be seen as a savior, or is he simply a tyrant in disguise? Is Berserk showing us that power—true power—always comes at the cost of innocence?
Griffith’s story suggests that no matter how beautiful the castle, it’s built on bones. And no amount of heavenly imagery can cleanse the hell it took to get there.
Conclusion: Inevitable or Inexcusable?
Griffith’s betrayal is one of the most devastating turns in anime, not just because of what he did, but because of how deeply we believed in him before he did it.
Was it inevitable? Perhaps. A man who sees people as means to an end, who believes dreams matter more than lives, and who is offered literal godhood in his moment of despair—maybe that man was always going to fall.
But was it forgivable? Absolutely not.
Griffith made a choice. He looked at his friends, at their love, loyalty, and humanity—and he chose power. In doing so, he destroyed not just the Band of the Hawk, but the very soul of Berserk’s world.
And maybe that’s what makes him so haunting: he is not just a villain, but a mirror—reflecting the darkest parts of ambition, pain, and sacrifice. Griffith’s betrayal may have been shaped by destiny, but it was sealed by free will. And in that truth lies the horror.