Paracelsus stood in the holographic room with Izuku, roman gladiators flickering into existence across them. Crossing his arms behind his back, Paracelsus nodded to Izuku, "Remember, Izuku, the key to magecraft is that you must convince yourself that you can perform what you're trying to do. This is… especially hard for you, given your past, but I'm certain you can do it."

"Right," Izuku said, closing his eyes and breathing in, "Right.."

Magic Circuits activated across Izuku's upper body, from somewhere hidden in the white jacket of Chaldea, green lines glowed up his neck and face, and down his arms. Izuku began to mutter under his breath. Well, once they got to the point of teaching him high speed Incantation, that would come in handy.

"Focus," Paracelsus said, stepping around Izuku, "You don't need the circuits 'in' your face activated for this, and given your output, you shouldn't burn more Od then you need."

Izuku breathed in, and the circuits fled from around his eyes and neck, "Alright…"

"Try it," Paracelsus said, "remember, unlike with Formalcraft, the Incantation for this is based around what is important to you."

"Metatropí," Izuku started, holding out his hands. The air started to distort, wrapping around his fingers and the first hologram, "Kakuhenkan, Transmutatione, Kumonosu, Toile D'araignée, Istós Aráchni̱s."

Well, never let it be said that Izuku wasted words. The same word thrice over, in French, Japanese and Greek…

Izuku crossed his arms, pulling on an invisible force that pressed taunt on the skin of the hologram, "Enflammer, Anávo, Chakka Suru! Hell's Spider!

Red flames jumped from his fingers, following the threads and searing through the gladiator. Izuku slid down to his knees, his Circuits burning as he dropped his hands, sweat wetting his brow.

"Well done," Paracelsus said, offering Izuku a small smile and holding out a hand to help him up. With the other, he swung his sword wide and cut down the other two holograms, "but I don't think you'll be finishing the other two today. We're going to need to focus on your output."

Izuku nodded, pushing back his sweat soaked hair, "Y- Yes."

"And congratulations, Izuku," Paracelsus said, "I don't think we can say you're Quirkless anymore."

The wide, dawning smile that spread across Izuku's face made Paracelsus smile in turn.

- X Izuku X-

"I understand your problem now," Izuku stopped the thrust of his spear, looking over at Scáthach. She was lounging on the ground of the simulated hill they were on. Slowly, she stood and stretched, walking over to him.

"A-About me using the spear?" Izuku asked.

"No," she said, "there's nothing you've done that Leonidas can't iron out. May I ask you a question, Master?"

"O-of course!" Izuku said, "You can always ask me anything, Se-"

"How many warriors are in Chaldea right now? If you had to estimate?" She asked.

"Well," Izuku worried his bottom lip, "I'd say, probably fift- OW!"

"Incorrect," Scáthach said from where she had "lightly" flicked the center of his forehead, which, with B-Ranked Strength, still stung like a hornet's sting, "Try again."

Izuku rubbed his forehead, frowning. He hadn't forgotten anyone. He was sure of that. So who… "I'm sure it's fifty six."

Scáthach sighed lightly, "and this is the problem. You care too deeply."

"What?"

"Look at this spear," Scáthach suddenly pulled a Gae Bolg from thin air, resting it gently on her hands, "Well crafted by the greatest weaponsmith of the Isle of Skye, scrimshawed by the greatest scrimshander. Beautiful, yes?"

"Yes?" Izuku repeated, still unsure of where this was going. Scáthach nodded, holding it put to him.

"Take it," Scáthach said, and Izuku did, the weapon sagging his arms. It was dense with magical energy, like all Noble Phantasms. So much that just trying to hold it was hard, "It was created in the Age of the Gods from the bones of a Sea Serpent called the Coinchenn."

"I know," Izuku said, "it died fighting-"

"-another, or so the story goes," Scáthach continued, "Hold it up higher, Izuku. The lesson I am about to impart will only make sense if you do so."

Izuku lifted up the spear with trembling arms… and felt his jaw drop as Scáthach manifested a red sword and brought it down on the spear, splitting it in two "Bwah?"

"Do you see?" Scáthach asked.

"That…" Izuku waved his hands as the two spear halves fell to the ground, "That spear had to have been thousands of years old!"

"Indeed it was," Scáthach confirmed.

"But- with all that history, why destroy it?" Scáthach didn't answer, just settling back down and watching Izuku, "I- I don't get what that was about!"

"That's because you're not ready to," Scáthach said, "but hopefully you'll learn it before it's too late.

- X Scáthach X-

Scáthach weighed the katana in her hands, drawing it and swinging it once. Very nearly perfect. Demonic, because a step further would have made it Divine.

"What are you doing here?" Her eyes flickered to Fuuma Kotarou as he stepped into the room, his haori hanging loose. She offered him the sword, which he grabbed like she had sullied it, a glare in his eyes before he picked up the sheath the blade belonged to and carefully, almost tenderly, returned it to rest and then placing it on the pedestal.

"I'll leave you to your rites," she said, taking a step back.

"You didn't answer the question," Evil Wind said, "You don't normally come here, so why were you here?"

"I was wondering if I should have perhaps been less obtuse in my lesson," she said, "Since Izuku clearly didn't take the point I was trying to make. Has there been a change in the fight between the Casters?"

"Of a sort," he said, "Midoriya Inko is on the Storm Border.