This story is still set in the Golden Deer route like my other 3H stories, but assumes that at least certain characters from other houses have been recruited (e.g., Linhardt, Ferdinand, and Felix). I personally recruited the whole monastery, so this will likely not be the last story featuring characters from other houses.

No particular reason for why I chose these specific characters, other than I just wanted to write about them.

Enjoy!

"As you all know, we are about to confront Lord Derort's men, and drive them from the village."

Byleth addressed his class from a small rise as he explained their current mission. The students were scattered across the bushy clearing, sitting on the ground or a rock or leaning against a tree, their attention directed towards their professor.

They were currently about a half mile from the mining village of Gawle, where they were to drive out a shady group of mercenaries who had been hired to forcibly redirect the output from the mines.

"I know all of you will be giving your best today, and I am confident in your ability to best these thugs, but I want to make one thing absolutely clear," He swept his gaze across the clearing to be sure he had everyone's full attention, "I do not expect Lord Derort to be present today, but if he makes himself known, none of you are to engage him in any way. Is that understood?"

The students shot puzzled looks at each other, and a soft murmur rippled through them. Claude raised his hand.

"But, Teach, isn't he the real root of the problem?" He questioned, "I mean, we can get rid of his lackeys all we want, but he can always hire more. Taking him out would solve the problem completely."

"No, Claude," Byleth shook his head, "Trust me, I know this man, and he is not to be trifled with. He would tear you all apart. My orders stand: if you see him, stay away from him."

Everyone recognized the serious look in their professor's eyes, and knew there would be no changing his mind on the matter. Several nods and "Yes sir's" bounced around the group, and Byleth accepted this as an affirmative response from the class. If all went well, there should be no problems; they likely would not even see Derort today. Still, he could not shake the uneasiness in his stomach.

That man was a menace to the world. Although he called himself Lord Derort, no one seemed to know one way or the other whether he actually had a claim to any legitimate noble house. His power, however, was unquestioned. Amongst mercenaries, he was infamous for paying outrageously good wages, if you could stomach the work he requested. And, judging by the size of the armies he controlled, a good number were willing to do just that.

Byleth had dealt with him on several occasions during his mercenary days with his father, and the man had turned his stomach every time. Thankfully, Jeralt had never been willing to accept any of the Lord's under-handed jobs, but their paths had crossed an unfortunate number of times while pursuing other work. He had seen firsthand what Lord Derort was capable of.

Looking at the bright, eager faces of his students, he prayed none of them would ever have to face that evil man.

"Everyone pack up and gather in: we will confirm our strategy before we move out."

In the mining village of Gawle, the battle progressed as expected. Derort's mercenaries were certainly nothing to scoff at, but neither were they the most elite fighters by any means, and the students were steadily taking them out.

Byleth breathed a sigh of relief. It was as he had expected; these were just a bunch of run-of-the-mill mercenaries that Derort had sent out to help supply his coffers.

Had he known what some of his students were up to, however, his relief would not have been so keen.

On the fringes of the village, Claude was taking care of the stragglers who were trying to grab some last-minute plunder from the villagers' homes. He had a particularly slimy character backed into a corner, and he propped his bow across his shoulders and flashed the man a cocky grin.

"Well, I can't just let you take this poor family's... uh, whatever that is," He gestured vaguely at the item the man was holding.

"You fool!" The thief hissed, "This is the rightful property of Lord Derort! It will be in his hands in mere minutes, and then all of you will suffer his wrath!"

"Hang on, what've you got?" Claude frowned, cocking his bow back, "And are you saying Derort is here now?"

The oily little man just cackled.

"Ugh, you're freaking me out. I think I'll just shoot you."

At that moment, Linhardt came staggering through the cottage door and knocked into Claude. Claude stumbled backwards, releasing the draw on his bow in the process, and the thief seized his opportunity to launch himself out of the corner and make a beeline for the door.

"Hey! Stop him!" Claude shouted as he fumbled to reposition his bow.

Two more mercenaries crowded the doorway, but they split to let their slimy companion dart through.

"Oi!" Claude scowled and lunged after him, ready to smash through both of the men in his way.

Before he had a chance, however, one of them was jerked backwards out of sight. A flash of steel crashed into the second man's chin and sent him reeling.

"Ferdinand!" Claude panted, "Stop that little ferret guy!"

"A ferret?" Ferdinand stared at Claude incredulously, still clutching one of the defeated men by the scruff of his neck.

"Ugh!" Claude pushed past him to pursue his lost quarry.

What he saw, however, was Felix kneeling on the little man's back, his knife in the air.

"Felix, wait!"

Too late. His knife flashed down, and the grimy mercenary groaned and sputtered. Felix looked back at Claude with disgust.

"Don't interrupt me."

"I think he has something important," Claude rolled his eyes, "Something to do with Lord Derort."

"You mean this?" Felix held up an odd, egg-shaped stone that looked like it had been buried for centuries.

"That would be it. He said it belonged to Derort, and that it would be returned to him in a matter of minutes..."

"That's impossible," Ferdinand scoffed, "Lord Derort's fortress is miles from here."

"Well, I might have gotten some answers if I hadn't been interrupted." Claude turned to glare at Linhardt, who was just emerging from the cottage door.

"Those thugs surprised me, I had to make a hasty retreat," Linhardt yawned.

"This villain's still breathing," Felix growled, "Why don't we ask him?"

All four of them crowded around the wheezing man, faces intent.

"What is that thing? What does it do? Where is Derort?" Claude demanded.

The thief just chuckled, and glanced up at the sky. Following his gaze, the four students saw a faint glimmer of strange light radiating from over the hill.

"Woah, how long has that been there?" Claude murmured.

"I'm not sure it really is there," Felix replied, shading his eyes with his hand, "I can barely see it; it may just be a trick of the light."

"No," Linhardt frowned, "It's a residual aura. Someone is trying to use some strange magic."

"I'd bet anything that's where Derort is!" Claude leapt to his feet, "C'mon!"

"But, shouldn't we tell the professor?" Linhardt glanced back towards the village.

Claude made a dismissive gesture with his hands, "He's still down by the mines with the rest of the class cleaning those thugs out of the shafts. We don't need to bother him."

"But he specifically said we were not to face Derort," Ferdinand protested, "We are not supposed to go anywhere near him."

"Well, we don't know for sure it's Derort," Claude reasoned with a little smirk, "Besides, don't you think it would be great to go wipe that guy out? I'm sure all four of us together are more than capable."

"I'm not so sure," Linhardt hesitated, "Even the professor seemed intimidated..."

"All the more reason for us to go, so he doesn't have to!" Claude looped his arm around Linhardt's shoulders, "Well take him down and show Teach we're tougher than he thought!"

Wiping his dagger, Felix stood and scowled, "I didn't think I would ever say this, but I agree with Claude"

"Well, if both of you are going, I can hardly back down, can I?" Ferdinand grinned while Felix rolled his eyes.

"I suppose... if all the rest of you are going..." Linhardt sighed.

"Great! We're off then!" Claude clapped his hands and started up the rocky dirt road that wound around the hill, followed by his three companions. Behind them, the oily mercenary snickered and closed his eyes.

"They're gonna learn... he he... oh, they're in for it now!"

Byleth scanned the faces of his students as they all regrouped outside the mines.

"Woo! We did it!" Hilda cheered, wrapping her arm around Lysithia, "We're the best ever!"

A general celebratory state was working its way through the class, but Byleth was hesitant.

"Where's Claude?" He questioned with a concerned frown.

"I don't see Linhardt either," Ignatz volunteered.

All of the students started looking around them, and Raphael called out "Felix and Ferdinand aren't here either!"

"Weren't Claude and Felix picking up stragglers around the edges?" Leonie offered, "I don't think they ever came back from that."

"Now that I think of it, I do not believe any of them came down into the mines with us," Lorenz scowled, "But it cannot have taken them this long to take care of a few stragglers."

"Look around the edges of the village," Byleth instructed, trying to keep calm, "See if you can find them."

The class dispersed, and Byleth headed up the center road to the far edge of town. He was pretty sure he had seen Claude chasing someone that way earlier, so it seemed like a good place to start.

As he reached the edge of the town, Byleth heard a strangled chuckle. He looked down and saw a crumpled form lying in front of the outermost house.

Dropping to his knees, he pulled the chortling figure up by the front of his shirt.

"Where are my students?"

The mercenary cackled up a mouthful of blood, "Oh, Lord Derort will take good care of them... hehehe... yes, they're bringing him something he wants...hehe"

The bottom dropped out of Byleth's stomach.

"Where?"

An eye twitch towards the north road told Byleth all he needed to know. In a moment he was on his feet, running like death itself was behind him. He had to get there in time; he had to stop it. He could not even consider he might already be too late.

That man is here.

A cry rang through the air and tore into him: it was Linhardt's voice. His feet pounded the ground, faster than he would have thought possible.

If he has hurt my students...

Linhardt crashed into the rocky outcropping, crying out as the jagged stone raked across his back. Not far from where he landed, Felix panted on his hands and knees, one arm wrapped around his stomach. Ferdinand tried to stand, but clutched his head as a wave of vertigo rolled over him, and he lowered his forehead to the ground.

Lord Derort turned to Claude, who was on the ground with his back pressed up against the rocky wall behind him.

"Now, I'm done asking nicely," he grabbed Claude by the throat and lifted him in the air, "You have a piece of my property, and I am going to carve you apart bit by bit until I find it."

The curved blade flashed in his hand as he brought it up and drew it slowly across Claude's abdomen, slicing through his clothes and leaving a thin line of blood beading on his skin.

"Leave-leave him alone!" Ferdinand shouted, trying and failing to stand again.

With a backwards flick of his wrist, Derort sent a wave of sickly green magic over Ferdinand, who choked and retched, falling into painful heaving.

"I don't think I will," Derort smirked, "I think I'm going to take my sweet time in killing him. Where should I start, hmm?"

He traced the tip of his dagger in a swirling pattern over Claude's body, the boy's weakly kicking legs not bothering him in the slightest.

"Here, I think," With a grin, Derort drew his knife back for the first stroke.

A flash of steel swiped across Derort's hand, and he swore, dropping the knife.

Byleth whirled and yelled as he brought his sword back up across his opponent's other arm, making him drop Claude and stumble backwards, clutching his wounds.

Placing himself squarely between Derort and the four groaning students, Byleth pointed his sword at the burly lord.

"You will not touch them again."

Derort regained his footing and took in the new arrival with a scowl.

"Ah, I'd heard rumors that the Ashen Demon had taken up teaching monastery brats, but I admit I had a hard time believing it," he sneered, "Are these ones yours then?"

"Yes, they are."

"They have something that belongs to me," Derort spat, "Give it to me, and I'll be on my way."

"Why should I?" Byleth demanded, "We just finished cleaning up your mess over in Gawle; I should take you back to the monastery to face judgment."

"My mess?" Derort chuckled, "Why, I know nothing about those thugs terrorizing that poor village. I just came here to fetch something of mine: something that brat of yours has in his possession."

"You're lying."

"As direct as ever, I see. No matter; you can't prove I was connected to the Gawle incident, so I'll just be taking my property and going now."

A flash of light engulfed Derort and he materialized next to Claude: a trick that nearly always won him the fight. Unfortunately for him, Byleth had seen it before, and he was ready. As soon as Derort reappeared, Byleth swung the Sword of the Creator into his glowing form. The blade extended and twisted through the area that was becoming Derort's body, scattering the particles before they had a chance to fully materialize. A strangled scream radiated from the glowing mass, and Derort dissipated into the air with a thunder-like crash and flash of light.

"You... you did it!" Felix gasped, grimacing and clutching at his abdomen as speaking irritated his wounds.

"He's... dead?" Linhardt wondered as he struggled to free himself from the pile of rubble in which he was entangled.

"No, I merely interrupted his re-assembly," Byleth stated, "He is prepared for this: he keeps an Oracle in his fortress that will eventually gather his essence and rebuild his body, but not here. He is far away, for now."

"Well Teach, you sure know a lot about him," Slowly, Claude pushed himself up into a seated position and offered Byleth a tentative grin, "Your timing is impeccable, by the way."

"I dealt with him occasionally, in my previous work. You should all try to keep still; I need to assess your injuries."

"Dealt with him how? You seemed pretty familiar with each other," Claude persisted, trying to stand.

Byleth put a hand on his shoulder and pushed him back down to the ground, then dropped to his heels in front of him and fixed him with such a dark glare the boy almost thought he would rather face Derort again.

"I told you to stay still," Byleth scolded in a low voice, "You are having trouble listening today, aren't you?"

"Uh..." Claude gulped and shifted nervously without answering.

Standing abruptly, Byleth gathered a small ball of lightening in his hand and threw it into the sky. He then knelt beside Ferdinand, who was still doubled over clutching his stomach.

"The others should be here soon, and we will get all of you fixed up," he soothed, guiding the heaving boy to lie on his side, "For now, I will do what I can."

As he began to work, Ferdinand relaxed and stopped heaving, "Ahh...th-thank you, Professor."

With a nod, Byleth moved on to begin helping Felix. "I'm afraid that will have to do for now; the others will be able to do better when they arrive, but I cannot heal all four of you completely."

"Professor," Felix winced as Byleth began working on his wounds, "You never answered Claude's question. I mean, about how you knew Derort...Ah!"

"I told you, I crossed paths with him several times while I was working as a mercenary," Byleth finished what he was doing and began helping Linhardt lie on his stomach so he could address the wounds on his back, "Lord Derort is somewhat of an infamous character in the mercenary world, and anyone that powerful is always worth learning about. Jeralt always believed in knowing everything we could about anyone who might become a threat, and Lord Derort was at the top of that list, so I studied him whenever I had opportunity."

He swept a dark gaze across his four students, "I know exactly what he is capable of, which is why I expressly forbade you from engaging him... and yet here you all are."

No one made eye contact, their gazes all fixed on the rocky ground before them.

"Professor!" Leonie came running up the road and, spotting them, turned to shout over her shoulder, "Hey everyone! They're up here!"

In a few moments, the whole class was gathering around their classmates, everyone talking and asking questions at once.

"Everyone, please calm down and take a step back!" Byleth commanded, herding his students away from their injured comrades, "Lysithia, Marianne, Mercedes, I need you to see to their injuries."

"What happened?" Ignatz wondered, taking in the unfortunate state of his classmates and their surroundings.

"It appears I was mistaken," Byleth replied, "Lord Derort made an appearance today after all. There was something here he wanted very badly, that I was not aware of."

"You mean this?" Claude held up the strange egg-shaped stone.

"Is that what he was after?" Byleth examined the stone carefully, "It certainly doesn't seem like much, but whatever it is, it's clearly important to him. Where did you find it?"

"Some creepy little guy was trying to run off with it back at the village," Claude replied, "That's how we found out Derort was out here..."

"You sought him out?" Ashe exclaimed, his eyes widening, "After what Professor said..."

He trailed off, glancing nervously at Byleth, who remained expressionless.

"We will discuss everything when we return to the monastery. For now, let's focus on getting these four fit for the journey back."

When they returned to Garreg Mach, Byleth sent everyone to the infirmary to be checked over by Manuela while he reported to Lady Rhea. Coming so close to losing his students had shaken him, and he wanted to be sure there were no residual effects clinging to anyone from their battle with the dark Lord and his men. When he reconvened with them after his meeting, he was informed everyone was fine, and there should be no lingering issues from the ill-fated encounter.

Relieved, Byleth answered everyone's questions regarding Derort, as well as the strange stone, which Rhea had explained was a magical artifact similar to a low-grade relic which did not require a seal to use. Since Byleth suspected Lord Derort's noble title was pure fabrication, it made sense that he would attempt to enhance his power by collecting such magical objects.

After answering all of their questions, Byleth dismissed his class to throw their traditional feast in celebration of a successful mission. Claude, Linhardt, Felix, and Ferdinand, however, he detained, and the four of them were left alone to face their angry professor.

"It seems all of you had some trouble following directions today," Byleth began, his voice icy, "Would you care to explain to me why that might be?"

The four boys looked at each other, each hoping the others would come up with a good explanation. No one spoke.

"I can pick one of you, if I need to," Byleth prompted.

"It was Claude's idea..." Linhardt mumbled, glancing up briefly to Claude and then Byleth before dropping his gaze once again.

Claude grimaced, but did not argue.

"We each made the decision to go," Ferdinand shuffled uncomfortably, "We all share equally in the blame."

"We... we thought we could beat him..." Felix muttered with a slight rosy tint in his cheeks, "We were... mistaken."

"I told you you could not," Byleth growled, "Why do you think I warned you against him? I know how powerful he is."

None of them responded. Shame-faced, they stood with heads hung, staring down at the floor.

"You almost died today!" The anger in Byleth's voice made all four boys wince: the professor's usually unshakable demeanor made his wrath all the more terrifying. "You needlessly endangered yourselves by disobeying my express command to stay away, and it almost got you killed! I will not tolerate such blatant disobedience and foolish recklessness."

Taking a breath to steady himself, Byleth continued in a more even tone, "Each of you return to your dormitory and wait for me. I will deal with you individually."

The boys cast nervous glances at each other.

"Professor..." Felix began.

"Go. Now." The command was accompanied by a fiery glare that sent all four students scampering to their dormitories.

Byleth had yet to clean himself up after the battle, and he took his time in doing so. He needed to calm down a bit before disciplining his students, or run the risk of treating them unfairly. Even so, this was going to be an evening none of them would be likely to forget anytime soon.