Hello again, dear friends. I hope you are all doing well.

Apologies for the tardiness. I was dissatisfied with my original draft of this chapter and so I ended up rewriting it. Expect a look into Byleth's combat prowess, the hint of bonding between two more dads, and a suspicious Crests (or lack thereof...)

With that, please enjoy the ninth chapter of Case Study: Fodlan.

"HYAA!"

A loud crack echoed throughout the training grounds as Caspar smashed his axe into the shaft of Ferdinand's lance, chips of wood splintering from the impact. Even though he was able to block the attack, Ferdinand stumbled backwards unsteadily from the sheer force of the blow. Caspar followed up with a flurry of swings, but his enthusiasm to press the advantage made each one more shambolic than the last. Ferdinand managed to deflect one of these wild attacks and ducked low, punching the base of his lance into Caspar's stomach. The blue haired boy grunted and tumbled backwards, kicking up sand as he flopped onto the ground.

"Woohoo! That was awesome!" Caspar cheered, pumping a fist into the air. "I thought I had you there, Ferdinand!"

"I thought you had me as well!" Ferdinand said with a shaky smile. He still held himself upright with the poise of a noble, but Caspar's strength had clearly taxed his stamina. "What do you think of our performance, professor?"

The two boys looked at Byleth expectantly, and she was sure that the rest of the class had their eyes on her as well. Only one word came to her mind.

"... Disappointing."

This was clearly not the answer that her pupils were expecting. Caspar's mouth gaped and he bounced to his feet. "What? I was giving it my all!"

Ferdinand looked equally confused. "Professor, could you elaborate? We were fighting with everything that we were trained for!"

"You know how to use your weapons and that's about it." Byleth said, turning to address Ferdinand. "You managed to win the fight, but only because Caspar exhausted himself. You let the area of his attacks dictate where you could perform instead of utilizing the length of your lance over the reach of his axe. If Caspar had more stamina, you would not have had such an opportunity to turn the tides. You weren't looking for a way out of your defense."

She turned to the other boy. "Caspar, the strength behind your initial blows was critical to giving you an advantage over Ferdinand, but instead of exploiting it you let yourself get carried away. You wore yourself out instead of finishing the job." Byleth placed a hand to her chin. "You both possess correct fundamentals but not the initiative to convert off of it."

"If we have the fundamentals mastered, then at least we are making good progress!" Ferdinand said optimistically.

"No. You can only win like that if your opponent makes accidents. Take the earlier fight for example." Byleth gestured to two girls standing by the side of the ring. "Edelgard was clever with mixing up her attack patterns, but she only prevailed because Petra let her grip loosen when dodging, allowing her to get disarmed. If Petra kept a better grip, the fight would have gone to exhaustion because they were too busy making stylish openings instead of exploiting their work."

Upon seeing the confusion etched on the faces of her class, Byleth decided to take a different approach.

"It will be easier just to show you." She said, "Edelgard. Grab your weapon."

The princess nodded, picking up her axe and entering the sand pit. Her professor followed suit and both girls took up combat stances on their respective side of the ring. Byleth tilted her head to the small, purple-haired girl to the back. "Say when."

"E-eh!? What d-did I do? I wasn't s-saying anything!"

"Ok. Dorothea."

"Of course, professor!" Dorothea cleared her throat. "Begin!"

Edelgard had no time to think as instinct brought up her axe, narrowly deflecting a vicious thrust from Byleth's sword. Three more strikes came in before Byleth switched her footing, giving herself an angle of attack further to Edelgard's left. There was no hesitation in her professor's offense. A pattern of strikes, parries, and stances continued without a single pause. After Byleth switched footing for the third time, Edelgard felt herself settling into a confident defensive rhythm of combat. She was about to attempt a counterattack when Byleth suddenly jumped away.

"You were comfortable." Byleth shifted her weight forward. "And now you're not." A sudden thrust launched at Edelgard once again. She blocked the strike with the flat of her blade and shifted her guard to the right for Byleth's follow-up… but instead a boot launched at her torso. Edelgard felt a dull pain erupt from her waist and fell unceremoniously into the sand.

"That is what exploiting any opening looks like. I could have continued our earlier stalemate, but then it would have become a contest of endurance. While such a scenario may be advantageous in duels or if clearly possessing superior stamina, it is not a safe practice in combat with multiple opponents or where time is scarce." Byleth instructed. She stooped over Edelgard and touched where she had struck her. "Are you alright?"

"Yes, professor." Edelgard said, a slight scowl crossing her face. "Although I am disappointed that I let myself be so predictable."

"I will teach you so such predictability does not happen again." Byleth said, guiding her out of the pit. She raised her voice, addressing the class once more. "I want you all to note the pace of my offence, specifically how it helped me create an opening without complex footwork or feints. This same policy can be applied to creating advantageous scenarios in magical combat as well."

"However, this training session was an evaluation, not a teaching moment." Byleth continued. "We will cover this subject in more detail during tomorrow's lecture. Class dismissed."

The class departed, looking a bit sore and relieved that the physically taxing class was over. Byleth lingered behind to clean up the equipment and noticed Edelgard doing the same.

"You are part of the class, Edelgard. You may go."

"Cleaning up after myself is not beneath me, professor." Edelgard retorted. "I also must say that this was a hands-on class unlike any I have ever experienced."

"Is that so? Did you not like it?"

"Not at all, professor, it was simply different." Edelgard adjusted her gloves. "It was more practical. I feel that your style has no embellishment or irrelevance… that everything has a purpose."

"Correct. It is how my father taught me and how I intend to teach you and the Eagles." Byleth explained. "In a life or death situation it does not matter how elegant your strikes are. The only thing that matters is that you are alive and unharmed, and that your opponent is not."

"Interesting. That is a very bold approach to combat. You may not find people in the monastery who are comfortable with such a cleanly cut approach." Edelgard smiled. "But such decisiveness makes me wish all the more that I could employ your services with the Empire."

"Noted and appreciated." Byleth nodded, tucking away the last of the practice swords into a large chest. "That is everything. I must go now, Edelgard. I will see you in class tomorrow."

"Of course, professor." Edelgard bowed her head. She watched Byleth disappear out of the training hall before depositing the last of the weapons she had gathered and exiting herself. Edelgard walked with a pace befitting that of a busy Imperial princess and it often did her well. This time, however, it drove her straight into a wall.

"What in the name of-?" Edelgard sputtered to herself as she stumbled backwards before gasping as she realized it was not a wall at all.

"Oops, sorry. Are you alright?" A tall, armored man leaned over and placed a hand on her shoulder. Edelgard took a step backwards. He cast a shadow over her and Edelgard felt an indistinct dread from the helmet that stared back at her. She cleared her throat and brushed his hand off.

"Y-yes. My apologies, sir, I was not watching where I was going."

"It's alright, my head was in the clouds too." The man chuckled. He stepped to the side and walked past, his voice drifting back to her as he went along his way. "Have a good day."

Edelgard straightened her uniform. 'Too many variables,' She thought to herself. Edelgard had not caught that man or his daughter's names. 'I wonder if Solon knows about them.'

It would have been a moot point to ask, but Edelgard detested receiving any help from their kind. Besides, she was confident that her much more trustworthy accomplice would acquire her desired information soon enough. Edelgard grinned as she saw the slightest glint of a coat button from the shadows. Sure enough, Hubert had observed her brief encounter with Rook and was observing his departure.

'Maybe sooner.'

Mock battles, new professors, mysterious strangers, and the weight of an Empire. It was sure to be a busy year for the Imperial princess.

Seteth heard a sharp rapping come from his door. He put down the paper he was reading and folded his hands together. "Come in!"

Out of all the people he was expecting, it was certainly not the tall man who sheepishly ducked through the threshold of the office. Seteth felt his gut tighten. Seeing Rook reminded him of all the extra vigilance he must undergo with yet another stranger at the monastery.

"Hey, Seteth."

"Greetings, Mr. Rook. what brings you here?"

"I was wondering about the academy's enrollment policy." Rook said. He stood by the door, his arms folded politely in front of his waist. He would have looked meek if it weren't for his intimidating stature.

"Enrollment is closed now that the academic year has begun." Seteth replied frostily, shuffling documents with an authoritative air. "Even besides that, your lack of a paper trail or reputation outside of affirmation from Captain Jeralt makes your induction highly unlikely at this time."

Rook's helmet bobbed up and down. "Understood. I will take my leave."

Seteth raised an eyebrow. He figured that a man so devoted to entering the secluded monastery would have to possess a greater determination than Rook was displaying. "Is that truly all?"

A deep chuckling filled the air of the room. "You said no, didn't you? I won't argue with a man whose mind is made."

The ghost of a smile graced Seteth's lips. "Wise words. Out of curiosity, why are you interested in joining the officer's academy? Although there is not an explicit age limit, it appears that you are well-travelled beyond what we teach here."

"Oh, it's not for me. It would be for my daughter, Bo."

"I didn't know you had a daughter." Seteth said, leaning forward with renewed interest.

"I do indeed, although she's supposed to be at home. That damned girl wants nothing more than to come along with me, but I don't have the time to watch over her every hour of the day."

Seteth's shoulders relaxed. He didn't even know that they were tense. "I have just the opposite problem, Rook. I have a beautiful daughter who seems to only desire to be away. She accuses me of being overprotective."

"Well… at least you spend time with her." Rook's voice took on a melancholic tone. Seteth's face softened.

"You and Bo have been apart for a while?"

"Yes. It has definitely left our relationship strained." Rook took a step to the door. "But that is neither here nor there. Thank you for your time."

"Of course." Seteth stood up and stuck out his hand. "It was a pleasure meeting you formally."

Rook paused, looking between Seteth and his outstretched hand. He walked over and shook it firmly.

"Likewise."

"... and although it is highly unlikely… I'll see if I can pull some strings for your daughter's enrollment." Seteth said with a small, pleasant smile.

The voice of Rook was warm as he replied. "Thank you, Seteth. I really appreciate your thoughtfulness."

"Naturally. Have a good day, Rook."

Byleth watched the nameplates of the offices carefully, looking for Hanneman's laboratory. To her dismay, every door looked identical and the halls were starting to blend together. She paused to regather her directions when she heard heavy footsteps come around the corner.

"Hey, Byleth." Rook said, waving briefly. "What are you up to?"

"Looking for Hanneman's office." Byleth said. "All of these rooms look the same."

Rook peered into the room of interest. "Hmm… I'm pretty sure these are extra dorms. Did he tell you where it was?"

"No. He just told me to come."

"Let's look for it then."

Byleth tilted her head as she met Rook's strides down the hall. "Are you not busy?"

"Me?" Rook placed a hand to his chest. "Of course not. I operate under my own time. The real question is whether you're busy."

"I finished my teaching for the day."

"How'd it go?"

"Not so well. They have a lot to learn."

"Hey, at least you have job security." Rook chuckled. "Why did Hanneman ask for you?"

"Something about Crests. He wants to see if I have one." Byleth said.

"That's fair. I heard-"

"Ah! There you are! I was wondering when you would stop by." Hanneman suddenly appeared in front of them. "I'm glad you were able to find my office and I apologize that I gave no instructions on its location. Please, come in!"

He hurried back into the room. Byleth looked to Rook, who merely shrugged and gestured for her to enter. The office was packed with tightly organized bookshelves, strewn blueprints, faded note sheets, and various pieces of equipment hanging at precarious angles. Rook had to duck around many apparatus before he came to where Hanneman was standing. The man turned to his younger colleague, excitement etched into his features. He gestured to an intricate piece of machinery sitting on the desk before him.

"This is a Crest Analyzer. It is quite simple in operation and will determine whether the power of a Crest resides within you. Have no fear, it won't hurt a bit."

"Does everyone have a Crest?" Byleth asked.

"Oh no, only very few! The power of Crests are carried through bloodlines, and even then only through select groups." Hanneman explained. "However, as a Crest scholar, it is paramount that I am as thorough as possible and leave no subject unchecked."

"I can attest to the thoroughness of scientific endeavors." Rook agreed. Hanneman smiled and reached out to Byleth.

"May I have your hand?"

Byleth nodded and Hanneman guided her palm over the base of the machine. With a subtle, inexplicable whirring and soft lights beaming from the cross section of the machine's chassis, an intricately patterned shadow appeared over the Crest Analyzer.

"What is this?!" Hanneman's eyes widened. "It is a pattern I've never seen before… perhaps an as-yet undiscovered Crest? How thrilling! To think there is still so much work to be done!"

Byleth squinted at the shadow. "It doesn't look like much to me. I've never felt it before."

"That is because you do not know that the power has been flowing through you! Oh my, this will be an excellent study." Hanneman took a breath to calm his jubilant excitement. "I must thank you for stopping by, Byleth, you've certainly given me much to work with. Are you willing to stop by in the future to help further my studies?"

"It's no bother."

"Excellent." Hanneman clapped his hands together. "Now, Mr. Rook. Would you mind placing your hand as you just saw with my colleague?"

"My apologies, professor, but I'm afraid I must decline." Rook said. A look of confusion crossed Hanneman's face.

"Is something wrong? I promise that there are no ill effects. I'm sure a fellow scholar like yourself understands the importance of frequent testing."

"I do not wish to impede your research, Hanneman, but I must refrain." Rook said firmly. Byleth felt a change in his tone. It was much more serious than she had ever heard him speak. A foreboding cold clung to his words; the finality of a warning.

"I-I see…" Hanneman adjusted his monocle. "I will not push you, although I implore you to reconsider. Thank you both for visiting, but now I must return to my work."

Rook and Byleth returned to the hall and walked back the way they came, albeit with a much gloomier atmosphere than when they entered the office.

"Are you alright?"

Rook looked over his shoulder to see Byleth at a slower pace behind him, her eyes boring into the back of his helmet.

"Yeah, I'm fine. Why?"

"You were on edge with Hanneman. Do you not like Crests?"

Rook's mind was spinning. He had to come up with some excuse that didn't involve being an otherworldly being. If that machine could decipher the power of blood, there was a good chance it would have gone haywire and revealed his alien, albeit still human, nature in this world.

"I've had bad experiences with them. Besides, I will study Crests in my own right, not as a guinea pig."

"That makes sense." Byleth nodded. Rook let out an inaudible sigh of relief at how quickly she acceded to his excuse. "Will you tell me sometime?"

"Why do you want to know?" Rook asked. Byleth shrugged.

"We're friends, aren't we?"

Byleth grew nervous when Rook made no response. "Isn't that what friends do? They tell each other things?"

"... yes, I suppose so. I'm just surprised that you consider me such."

"It's because I trust you, Rook. My father said you wanted to look out for me"

Her impassive face would have betrayed sarcasm if any other person had said such a thing, but Rook knew she was being earnest. A voice crackled in his ear.

"Good job, Rook, only took you a week and a half. Much faster than that Robin girl." Ken applauded.

Rook ignored him and turned to Byleth. Now was not the time for impersonal professionalism, not with the wide, expectant eyes that stared into his soul.

"I'm glad to hear that, Byleth. I feel a lot more comfortable at the monastery with you and your dad looking out for me, too."

"Mhm."

The two walked in silence for the rest of their short journey until the hall's exit. They parted ways as Byleth went off to plan her lessons and Rook went upward to the balcony. He looked out over the monastery. A sluggish, cool afternoon was settling over the campus. Students were returning to their dorms and in the distance he could see the village shops closing up. He was only here for a few days and he already felt the peace of this life. The peace of a normal life.

"Becoming attached to this world already?" Ken's voice said cheekily in his ear. Rook's hands tightened on the railing.

"I'll take what I can get."

The main reason for the rewrite was the for the pacing of Byleth training with the Black Eagles. I don't know whether it was because of the combat scenes or my inability to craft the scenario, but it took me far longer than I expected. Lots of deleting, typing, and more deleting. Hopefully it was worth it!

On an unrelated note, I went bowling for the first time on Saturday. It was great fun and I recommend trying it out when you get the chance. I hope you all had similarly enjoyable weekends and that this week is going well.

Reviews are welcomed and encouraged. Tell me what you like and don't like; I will take it into account.

And of course, thank you for reading. I hope you enjoyed.

Go in peace,

Louproxy