Author's Notes- Thank you for your interest in my story! A few points:

* This is rated T, but please note that this is a pretty strong "T" for violence and major character death. Like, really... a lot of characters will die. It won't push its luck in any other category, but if this is something that will be upsetting, this may not be a story for you.

* There will be a lot of original characters in this. If you've read any of my other works, you'll know I do not typically highlight OCs, but in this case, it is kind of inevitable given the premise. Just a heads up if that is something else that will bother you.

* I am not promising any update schedule. Doing so would make this story a chore and actually decrease the chances of me finishing it. I want to enjoy myself while doing an unpaid hobby. I have no intention of quitting, however. Thus far, I've completed every story I've uploaded on this site.

Anyways, with that all addressed, please read and feel welcome to leave any reviews if you so desire! Thanks again!

I claim no rights to any Fire Emblem content. Do people still write disclaimers these days?

Chronicles Beyond the Threshing Floor

Chapter 1

Day 15 of the Verdant Rain Moon, 1171 (Fódlan Calendar)

Khalid breathed heavily, doing his best to hold back tears as two of his half-brothers stood above him with wooden swords in hand. Khalid's own training weapon rested beside him, but as he was already on his knees, both hands were occupied by supporting his small frame from completely collapsing onto the marble floor. He could hear the footsteps of his brothers circle him in the reverberating room. All other occupants had vacated the space, providing them plausible deniability of knowing what was unfolding between the king's sons. Nader would have put a stop to it, but he was away on an expedition for a week.

Abbas spoke, the second eldest living son of the Almyran King. "Can't you already hear them, Khalid? Uncle Ghalib and his family will be visiting soon. They're a day away, and they're already mocking us. 'Look at those bastards they are going to hand the crown to!', they're saying. Listen, listen! Stop crying, Khalid. Pick up your sword and stop crying. Stop crying!" He struck Khalid again, which finally caused his half-brother to sprawl onto the floor.

"How am I supposed to stop crying when you keep hitting me?" Khalid begged.

"You're not crying because you're in pain. I've been in pain, and I don't cry. You cry because you're weak! You have to choose to stop." Abbas waved his sword towards his other brother. "James… remind Khalid what happens when he refuses to learn."

The younger child shuddered at the order. "But…"

"I said do it, James!"

James yelped as he struck Khalid on the back. He thankfully did so with less force than Abbas.

Abbas did not seem to notice James's mercy as he continued to monologue, "I'm not asking more of you than anyone else. I'm strong. Shahid is strong. James is strong. Even Shireen and Fahima were strong. But you continue to drag down our family!"

His face then softened ever so slightly as he bent down beside Khalid, though it retained the same degree of superiority. "Or maybe I am being too hard on you. Cowardice is in your blood. It's a pity that your mother ever had to sully our name."

That was enough to finally spur a fire in Khalid's soul. He quickly reached for his sword and yelled as he swiped Abbas off his feet and onto his back, knocking the breath out of him.

Khalid stood and might have gotten a few more strikes in had James not shoved Khalid back down. That afforded Abbas enough time to regain his advantage.

"Well," he laughed deeply. "It looks like I finally found how to motivate you. But you gave it your best shot, and now I'll get mine."

Khalid curled into a ball as Abbas struck his back three more times. At that point, James finally interceded by grabbing Abbas's sword hand and holding him back. Upon this mercy, Khalid rolled away, jumped up, and fled.

"Yes, yes, go run to your mom like always, half-breed. I'm sure she'll finally have all of the answers this time," Abbas called out after him, declining to pursue. Even he had to concede that Khalid's one advantage was his speed.

Khalid did not listen as he ran down a hall lined by arcades. He correctly guessed his mother's location as he ran towards her quarters- on a divan below the latticed window that overlooked her favorite courtyard. At that time of day, she was usually relaxing after a morning exercise.

Queen Tiana of Almyra was reading a treatise written by a prominent bishop in the Church of Seiros penned two hundred years earlier when conflict between Almyra and neighboring Fódlan led to the border being permanently sealed. The treatise delved into the debate of whether the goddess blessing only the people of Fódlan with Crests was a declaration of their superiority over other lands. Ultimately, the work presented both sides of the argument without coming to any firm judgment. Khalid had sneaked in and tried reading some of the book when he first saw it. He recognized it as contraband from across the border, which was a tantalizing source of information. Unfortunately, he understood very little of it at the time.

The queen had to quickly toss the book aside as Khalid jumped up and embraced her while openly sobbing. "Oh, Khalid… Alright, what happened this time?" she asked patiently.

"Abbas and James… they beat me again and again after training practice. Shahid will be just as bad if he comes with uncle. You have to do something about it, Mom! They can't keep getting away with it."

"Oh, I would. And I've tried," Tiana said with fiery eyes. "But at the end of the day, they are not my children. Only you are. I can only go so far to discipline them. Unless they really hurt you, in which case I will make sure they'll wish they were never born."

Khalid clutched his mother's vibrant dress. "It's not right! I did nothing to make them hate me like this!"

"I understand more than anyone," the queen replied gently as she hugged her son. "You know where I come from, yes?"

"From Fódlan, across the Throat."

"Yes, and there are those who have never accepted me for it. But do you think your father is always there to protect me? No, I've had to fend for myself. You share that same blood, Khalid."

"But Mom, you're tall and strong. My brothers are twice my size!"

"Indeed. Until you grow, you have no hope of beating them in an even fight."

His mother's honesty caught Khalid by such surprise that his tears ceased and he leaned away to look her in the eyes. "Then how am I supposed to win?"

The queen smiled. "Isn't it obvious? You need to make sure the fight is uneven."

"But… I shouldn't have to do that. Why won't they see I'm not their enemy? It isn't fair!"

"Life rarely is, Khalid… If you want this world to change, you'll have to take charge. Maybe it will change one day otherwise, but that might not be in your time. And even if it does, it will not be brought about by coincidence, but because of those willing to lead. Don't wait for those leaders, Khalid. You have the power to be one yourself. Your father is King of Almyra. Do you know what my father is?"

"Leader of the Leicester Alliance," Khalid answered mechanically.

"Doesn't have quite the ring as 'king', does it?" Queen Tiana said with a knowing smile. "But don't let the name fool you. Your father is king because he inherited the crown from his father. But to maintain leadership over the Alliance means navigating among the leading houses and keeping them all on your good side. It's a tough challenge to keep power- even harder than for a king."

"I could never do that," Khalid lamented. "No one likes me."

"That is not true. You have more wit and charm than your brothers put together. They know it, and that's one of the reasons they are so jealous of you. Your father and I love you. And many more across both Fódlan and Almyra will, too, once they see you for who you are beyond your lineage."

Khalid hugged his mother as he began to cry again. But these were not tears of pain or sadness- they were tears of passion.

"I love you, mother. I want people to love you like I do, too. I will do whatever it takes for people to understand. Even if that means splitting the mountains between Almyra and Fódlan myself!" he pronounced.

The queen chuckled as she patted her son's head. "I look forward to seeing it."

Dreamers of the East - Day 29 of the Great Tree Moon, Imperial Year 1186

Khalid, now addressed by the name of Claude von Riegan, lay on his cot staring at the roof of his tent while spinning an arrow between his fingers. Much had changed since those days when his greatest concern was evading his half-brothers. He was now playing a far more dangerous game- managing a sovereign state and pressing an invasion into hostile territory. The poisons he now had stashed in his tent could take care of his brothers if needed, but those solutions sadly could not scale up enough to defeat the entire Adrestian army.

Claude had left Almyra behind to succeed his grandfather Oswald as Duke Riegan and leader of Fódlan's Leicester Alliance. Given that border between Almyra and Fódlan remained sealed, his true identity was an absolute secret. Rather than being announced as Oswald's grandson, which would have provided too much information for an investigation, Claude was only identified as a promising member of an offshoot Riegan family named heir after the death of Oswald's only son. Claude's role as heir to House Riegan was supposed to be another step on the road to fulfilling the dream of opening relations between these lands, and perhaps even the whole world. Well, it was also a chance to escape, but that was not a point to dwell on.

One of his first moves upon his arrival in Fódlan was his decision to enroll at the Officer's Academy at Garreg Mach Monastery six years prior. He arrived as head of its Golden Deer class, which consisted of natives to the Leicester Alliance. The other two classes, the Black Eagles and Blue Lions, corresponded to the other lands of Fódlan- the Adrestian Empire and the Holy Kingdom of Faerghus, respectively.

Enrolling at the academy gave him the opportunity to familiarize himself with Fódlan's future leaders. He was friendly to those who might make for allies, and he studied the weaknesses of those who would be obvious opponents. As the monastery also acted as the central authority of the Church of Seiros, the predominant faith in Fódlan, he also hoped to peel back the secrets that underlaid the church's founding.

Claude's plans were supposed to develop gradually as needed, but all of that changed when Edelgard von Hresvelg, his former classmate and princess of the Adrestian Empire, took her father's throne and promptly declared war on the Church of Seiros. As soon as Garreg Mach Monastery fell to the Adrestian forces, Edelgard announced her intentions to unify Fódlan under her banner and eradicate what remained of the church's influence.

Claude was among the defenders at Garreg Mach during her invasion. Edelgard offered very lenient paroles in exchange for their surrender of the monastery, but she still ignored his plea to leave the Alliance out of the coming conflict when he spoke to her after the battle. Now leader of the Leicester Alliance since the death of his grandfather, Claude led the union's anti-imperial faction. Several other Leicester families were cooperating with the Empire to varying degrees of complicity.

Five years had passed since the fall of Garreg Mach. The church's archbishop, Rhea, had vanished during the assault, which left the church toothless, and the Holy Kingdom of Faerghus had largely collapsed. That left Claude as the most prominent rival to the Empire during a war that continued to drag out. Most of that time had been spent trying to keep the Alliance from collapsing internally. Only now did Claude have the opportunity to invade the Empire directly. His first target was Fort Merceus, where the emperor herself had recently garrisoned.

Claude had little interest in dying, but he was willing to gamble much to prevent Edelgard's conquest. Some of her aims seemed obvious enough, and many of those goals were agreeable to Claude, such as limiting the authority of noble bloodlines and the church in Fódlan. Even so, he still questioned just how far she was willing to go. Once the war was over, would Edelgard go about executing swaths of the nobility for perceived misconduct? Would she dare push her conquest into Sreng or Almyra? Even if she denied any more extreme goals, how could Claude trust someone who spent an entire year in his presence calmly plotting the demise of Leicester's sovereignty? Not to mention that Edelgard had likely hired the bandits that nearly killed him at the very start of the schoolyear. If she had no interest in cooperating with him, Claude had no choice but to reciprocate.

There was also the issue as to what that Edelgard's united Fódlan would look like. The Adrestian Empire had once ruled all of Fódlan for three quarters of a millennium before the Kingdom and Alliance split off. Over the course of the current war, the Empire had published several essays that pushed for acquiescence from Faerghus and Leicester lands. In these essays, Edelgard occasionally dipped into irredentism in a recognizably supercilious tone. Her purpose for this was likely to satisfy the Adrestian noble families, but it all left a bad taste in Claude's mouth regardless. If Claude was to unify Fódlan, he did not want to simply conquer the Kingdom and Empire under the Alliance's name. He wanted to create something entirely new.

One thing could not be denied, however- the Adrestian Empire's war offered a significant opportunity. Between an internal coup and external pressure from the Empire, western Faerghus had destabilized and been propped up with a new government called the Faerghus Dukedom, which was little more than a puppet state of the Empire ran by a cruel mage named Cornelia Arnim. Kingdom loyalists continued to fight in the far eastern reaches of Faerghus, but their kingdom was little more than a concept by that point. For their part, the Empire would likely collapse upon itself if it was successfully invaded. It was the perfect opportunity for Fódlan's tenuous political system to be completely restructured. Peace on terms that did not see Fódlan unified would be deeply disappointing. Without unity on the continent, it seemed inevitable that the three governments would be too busy with internal squabbles for the foreseeable future to turn their gaze outward.

Of course, the question remained as to what to do with Fódlan once victory was achieved. Claude planned on returning to Almyra to succeed his father there, which meant he would have to entrust Fódlan to someone both responsible and willing to improve relations with their neighbors to the east. But who could fulfill such a role?

Besides Edelgard and Claude, the other primary contender was Byleth Eisner, former professor of Edelgard's Black Eagle class during their time at the Officer's Academy and now acting leader of the Church of Seiros in Archbishop Rhea's absence. She had only recently resurfaced after a long disappearance ever since Garreg Mach fell and had reassembled the Knights of Seiros into a force known as the Resistance Army. Claude had cooperated with the Resistance Army, including a strategy involving him distracting the pro-imperial faction of the Alliance while the church captured the strategic Great Bridge of Myrddin, the primary crossing on the Airmid River between the Alliance and the Empire. With that victory, the church could launch attacks directly into imperial territory.

Claude had no direct issue with Byleth, but his trust in her was shallow. She was very stoic and difficult to read during their academy days, which left him suspicious of her aims. One thing that was certain, however, was her strong bond to the missing archbishop. Byleth's astonishing rise from mercenary to appointed successor in just a year was all Archbishop Rhea's doing. If Rhea was freed from the imperial capital of Enbarr, where Claude believed she was likely held, Byleth might simply restore Fódlan to the prewar status quo. Too many lives had been lost for it to all be for nothing.

Prince Dimitri, heir to Faerghus and former house leader of the Blue Lions, would have been the safest of the major options. True, Dimitri probably did not share Claude's more revolutionary ideas, but from his experience, Claude was confident that the prince was a good and earnest man who would lead both fairly and compassionately. Given Dimitri's support of the Duscur people despite everything that happened to his family and friends, he was also evidently sensitive to outcasts and foreigners. If Claude was able to take the Almyran throne and open up diplomatic channels with Fódlan, there was no doubt that Dimitri would have been an acceptable negotiating partner.

Unfortunately, Dimitri was no longer a choice. Not long after Dimitri returned to the Kingdom's capital of Fhirdiad following Garreg Mach's fall, his uncle Rufus, who was acting regent for the Kingdom until Dimitri came of age, was abruptly murdered. Dimitri was sentenced for the crime and swiftly executed. This event was instrumental in allowing the rise of the Faerghus Dukedom. It was well known that Rufus and the prince did not see eye-to-eye, but Claude still found the accusation that Dimitri was guilty to be absurd.

That left him with… well, it wasn't clear.

Claude had far more questions than answers. He had reached a point where he found himself doubting even the most basic facts. Was he even heir to House Riegan, anyways? No one knew what had happened to Oswald's daughter when she disappeared. Was it all a conspiracy? What if his moth-

Claude shook his head as he reached down to the grab the bow resting beside him. It was the legendary bow Failnaught, supposedly granted to his ancestor by the goddess. It was one of the Heroes' Relics gifted to the Ten Elites that supported the goddess eleven hundred years earlier, who went on to establish many of Fódlan's leading houses. Those heroes were also imbued with the power of Crests, which provided strength that manifested in any number of ways and were passed down to their descendants' blood. When Claude held Failnaught's grip, the crest stone imbedded in it began to glow orange, confirming compatibility with Claude's Crest. At least he could have assurance of his lineage, if nothing else.

After setting Failnaught back down, Claude picked his arrow back up and resumed twirling it. As powerful as Failnaught was, its might paled in comparison to Byleth's relic- the legendary Sword of the Creator. According to legends, her sword was strong enough to cleave mountains. If only Claude had swayed Byleth to his side when he had the chance, rather than her remain in Rhea's pocket…

"I sure hope you're awake, boy," someone interrupted.

The voice belonged to Judith of House Daphnel, the Alliance's most respected general, as well as one of the first people to accept Claude after his sudden appearance as heir apparent to the late Duke Riegan. She had once been one of the Five Great Lords of the Alliance's roundtable conference, though House Daphnel had recently ceded that role to House Edmund. Besides his fellow Golden Deer, Judith was the only person Claude had any semblance of trust in.

"Yeah, yeah, there's no need to worry about that." Claude set his arrow on a side table and jumped up from his cot, but he hesitated before opening the flap to his tent. "Actually, this seems like a good learning opportunity. This tent belongs to the leader of the Leicester Alliance, and it can only be entered upon addressing him by his proper title. Don't worry, I'll accept either Leader or Duke Riegan."

"Alright, Supreme Leader. Only because I don't have time to put up with your nonsense."

Claude sighed good-naturedly as he raised the tent's flap. "Not quite what I asked for, but close enough. What is it you need, Judith?"

"I'm just here to make sure you're ready to lead an army. Somehow, I got stuck with the job of keeping you in line. I guess that's because I'm the only person you're scared of." Judith reviewed Claude's appearance with an unimpressed raised eyebrow. "You still need to get yourself looking presentable. Just how long have you been awake, anyways?"

Back at the Officer's Academy, the prevailing assumption maintained that Claude was a lazy student that slept in late at every possible opportunity. He did not mind being underestimated, so he never bothered to defend himself from the gossip- if anything, he encouraged it. In actuality, Claude was likely among the earliest risers of his class. That time was spent either pouring over books or in meditation. Nowadays, Claude was regarded more highly and had even earned the nickname of "The Master Tactician" for his deft management of the Alliance while the rest of Fódlan crumbled. He preferred being the misjudged student.

"It doesn't matter," Claude dismissed. "Before we go any further, I've got a few biscuits on that table over there we can talk over."

Judith nodded, so the two took seats on the padded stools that sat before his table. Claude's living arrangement as a whole was comfortable and made of quality material without being excessively luxurious. He probably allowed too much Almyran flair into the furnishings, but only his most trusted allies ever entered, anyways.

As Judith picked out the most attractive biscuit, Claude spoke, "I'll admit, thinking about that third army has kept me up a bit. Have you received any new reports regarding that?"

"Afraid not, boy. Sorry about that. I share your misgivings about poor intel."

If the reports were accurate, the "third army" was just a small band of armed men roaming about the area that posed little threat to the Alliance forces. Maybe they were mercenaries or perhaps thieves taking advantage of the chaos of war. The most radical rumors entailed a possible remnant of the Kingdom Army, perhaps led by Prince Dimitri himself. It was certainly possible that rogue Kingdom soldiers formed the basis of this marauding band, but the idea that the late prince could be involved was ludicrous.

"It's not your fault," Claude assured. "If they're sticking to the forests north of Gronder, there's not much our wyvern scouts can do."

"True, but try not to lose too much sleep over it. There's no reason to think they mean us harm."

"Don't forget to take care of yourself, too, Judith. You've done a lot to keep the cogs of this army moving, but you're a lot more than an administrator. If there is to be a pitched battle, we'll need you ready to command."

"That's actually one of the reasons why I'm here, Claude. It doesn't look like there's going to be a siege. The scouts say that the imperial army is establishing a position outside of Fort Merceus at Gronder Field. I'm not talking about an expeditionary force. They appear to be planning on the bulk of their army being there."

Many generals may have decided in favor in staying inside Fort Merceus rather than risk sortieing out, but there was a logic to choosing an open battlefield. With the major routes across the Airmid River controlled by either the Alliance or the Church of Seiros, it was likely that supplies could be conveyed across to maintain an extended siege. Fort Merceus was considered so impenetrable that it had earned the nickname "The Stubborn Old General", but the strength of its walls would do nothing to prevent the eventual starvation of its occupants after several moons. And though it was a callous calculation to run, losing a few troops in combat would help conserve resources while under a subsequent siege if the battle went against the Empire.

It may have seemed like a strategic move by the Empire, but it suited Claude's wishes as well. If the campaign stalled, he would almost certainly be forced into direct cooperation with the advancing Resistance Army. Their help would be useful, of course, but giving Byleth yet another signature victory would give more credence to her name. If Claude hoped to stand above her in order to unify Fódlan under his banner, he needed to act swiftly. It was for that reason he deployed his army so quickly after hearing of Byleth's victory at the Great Bridge of Myrddin- he would have preferred having ample time to work up a scheme to get inside the fort, but if there was going to be a combined siege, he at least wanted to be the one to initiate it. That future had been averted thanks to Edelgard's decision.

"Not too surprising, really. We've prepared for that scenario. Except for one issue." Claude took a bite out of his biscuit. "I'll need you leading one of my flanks, but I still have to decide who will be on the other."

Judith sighed. "There's not much question on that. It's going to be the new Gloucester kid that arrived last night. From their perspective, this is their opportunity to prove their newfound allegiance to you. Anything less will be taken as an insult. The Gloucester troops might just head back home."

Claude frowned. "I don't know much about the guy, which makes me wary. I can't imagine his family is too happy with me after what happened at Myrddin. But we need the Gloucester soldiers, don't we?"

Judith nodded knowingly. "Sorry I sent off so many of my own troops to help the church. I didn't know you were planning a campaign at the time."

"Don't worry about it. That's on me. As for appeasing Count Gloucester… So be it," Claude assented, adding in his own sigh. "There's not many others I would recommend for the job, anyways. I'd rather keep my classmates close."

"Speaking of your classmates, you shouldn't be sitting here chomping on biscuits. I saw your friends out there cooking breakfast. I think they expect you to show up."

Claude dropped his half-eaten biscuit onto his plate and wiped his hands. "First I've heard of it. But hey, eating food is an essential component of very important strategy meetings like this."

Judith smiled lightheartedly. "Yes, I'll be sure to bring your leftovers to the actual strategy meeting once I track down the new Gloucester boy."

"Let's try to make that quick. I'd like plans to be in place by noon. If we wait until it's too close to the battle, people are going to be too nervous to pay much attention to the details."

"Sound logic, Supreme Leader," Judith assented before taking the final bite of her biscuit and standing. "See you soon. And don't forget to straighten yourself up."

Claude quickly cleaned himself and then stepped out of the tent. He was greeted by pleasant spring weather and the expected sights and sounds of a military encampment. Smoke plumes likely represented various soldiers eating breakfast, a theory supported by the aroma of cooking food. A rolling wagon or two and the sharpening of blades could be heard. All in all, life about the camp was operating as intended.

If Judith had crossed paths with Claude's classmates, they had to be situated nearby. He walked towards a firepit three tents away, where he immediately found them. Sitting around the fire were five former members of the Golden Deer- Raphael, Lysithea, Leonie, Hilda, and Ignatz. They were in the midst of conversation when Claude arrived, apparently on the subject of their breakfast rations. They greeted Claude before quickly returning to their discussion. He grabbed a bowl and began to pour out a portion of the hot oat porridge boiled in water while they talked, more so out of obligation than any genuine desire to eat it.

"Yeah, it's edible and all, but how can we go into battle without any meat? We're going to need to be strong if we want to win!" Raphael complained. The son of merchants killed in a supposed accident, Raphael had enrolled at the Officer's Academy to become a knight and financially support his younger sister. If anyone had legitimate grounds to complain about rations, it was Raphael. His enormous frame and bulging muscles doubtlessly demanded a substantial appetite.

Lysithea had no interest in putting up with his grievances. Hailing from House Ordelia, she was youngest of Claude's classmates, well known for her atypical white hair and prowess as a mage. The Alliance army had passed through Ordelia territory before crossing the Airmid River into the Empire.

She explained, "Raphael, grain is the most common resource in this area. If you want meat, we'll need to first wait for a more robust supply train. It's not my choice in appetite, either, but we should be thankful to even have the resources for three meals."

Leonie was more accommodating of Raphael's complaint. The red-haired woman hailed from a poor, remote village, and she was forced into deep debt to gain entrance into the Officer's Academy. The Golden Deer were often considered the least posh of the academy houses, and while there was some basis for that, Leonie was their only definite member of the lowest class.

"If it's that important to you, Raphael, I can try to catch a fish or two from that creek nearby," Leonie volunteered. "I would be up for that, just so long as I get to eat some, too."

"That sounds amazing, Leonie!" Raphael shouted.

"Please don't encourage his immature behavior," Lysithea sighed. "Who even eats meat for breakfast, anyways?"

"Oh come on, everyone!" Hilda cried. "We're in a war, and I don't want anyone's last memories of a friend to be of them arguing."

Unlike many of her classmates who came from meager backgrounds or had suffered personal losses, the worst Hilda Valentine Goneril could speak of was being compared unfavorably to her older brother. Holst Goneril commanded the fortress known as Fódlan's Locket, which secured the Alliance's border with Almyra, and was widely seen as the preeminent contender for becoming the Alliance's next leader before Claude's arrival. Hilda's claim to fame was… her laziness. She was also a perceptive judge of character, which Claude leaned on at times, but that skill was recognized by only a few. She also wielded House Goneril's Hero's Relic, the axe Freikugel, which commanded at least a little respect.

The final classmate in attendance was Ignatz Victor. He was the bespectacled second son of a prosperous merchant family and a childhood friend of Raphael. Other than a shared history, though, Ignatz had little in common with Raphael. Ignatz was small, quiet, and only following the path of knighthood because he felt pressured into it by his parents. His true passion was art, though he was too demure to ever press the topic with his family.

Ignatz did his best to act as peacemaker. "I don't know. It's kind of nostalgic to hear us all bickering together. It's amazing to have our class together like this, even after five years." His face then fell. "… Most of the class, at least."

Two of their senior classmates were not present, but Ignatz likely thought first of the late Lorenz Hellman Gloucester, who fell the previous moon during the doomed defense of the Great Bridge of Myrddin. He was often antagonistic towards Claude during their time at the academy, but while the two had their differences of opinion, Lorenz had good intentions. Claude could only imagine what must have been going through Lorenz's mind during that fateful encounter. House Gloucester had been cooperating with the Empire, but that had more to do with pressure from the threat of invasion than loyalty. It was possible that Count Gloucester also saw the opportunity to gain predominance over House Riegan by establishing himself as its primary rival, but either way, Lorenz had likely fought and died for a cause he did not believe in. Claude would rather have Lorenz by his side than his unfamiliar brother. Count Gloucester was intelligent enough to understand Claude indirectly had a role in Lorenz's death, and it was likely the reason he refused to personally accompany his army. That entirely called the depth of House Gloucester's alleged "loyalty" into question.

The other absent student was Marianne. She was the adoptive daughter of Margrave Edmund, one of the Alliance lords who had consistently financed Claude's efforts. Marianne's father reported her as having gone missing sometime four years prior after riding off on her horse and never returning. It was widely assumed that Marianne had ended her life, though her body was never found. Some of Claude's friends held hope that she might still be alive; however, years had passed with no news of her reappearance. Everyone remembered Marianne as gloomy and reserved, but she was well liked by all of the students. In some ways, she may have been the emotional center of the Golden Deer. The absence of such a talented healer would be missed, especially for an army distinctly lacking in magical skill.

There were other ancillary students at the Officer's Academy who received general tutoring at a more practical income for a less prestigious graduation, but the senior students did not spend much time with them. Claude knew that some were present within his army, but he could not name more than a few off of his head.

After everyone sat still for a moment to ponder their missing friends, Hilda shuddered and stretched out her limbs as if to shake out any bad energy. "Yeah… let's not dwell on this too long. It's not going to help, and we need to make sure the same thing isn't about to happen to us."

Claude nodded. "Hilda's right. Losing a friend is never easy, but we still have a job to do. I hope we'll have an opportunity to rest and mourn soon, but I'm afraid we're not there yet."

"Don't worry, we all get it," Raphael said. "There's a lot at stake. Isn't that right, Iggy?"

"Yes. We're with you all the way, Claude," Ignatz agreed. "I can only imagine how alone Edelgard must feel. I mean, other than Hubert, none of her classmates followed her. The hardened heart that burgeons with isolation… it might be her undoing in the end."

"Hardened heart or not, Edelgard will not fall unless we win on the battlefield. The imperial army has left Fort Merceus to face us at Gronder Field, so we will likely meet her tomorrow. I hope you are all prepared."

Leonie energetically pumped her first into the palm of her other hand. "A real battle! You can count on me!"

"And me," Judith said from behind. "And hopefully your new general. Here he is, Claude."

Claude quickly finished the last of his porridge and stood to greet his fresh general. When he turned around, he found the newcomer kneeling on one leg.

"Franz Brandt Gloucester at your service, sir. You have the full devotion of myself and my army. Any action on the part of my family against you was only due to obstacles that have now been removed."

Despite the similarities in their naming conventions, as well as their poorly-cut purple hair, Franz seemed quite different from how Claude remembered the late Gloucester brother. While Lorenz was confident and proud, Franz appeared to be permanently hunched. It was difficult to say whether that was due to differences in personality, or if the humiliation of House Gloucester at Myrddin had weighed him down.

Claude was not so sure he believed all of Franz's claims; even so, he said, "Thank you, Franz. I believe you." He then waved to Ignatz. "You have the maps with you, right? Pull out the one for Gronder Field."

Ignatz nodded and nervously drew out a scroll from a haversack that rested beside where he was sitting. He rolled it out upon a nearby barrel that the rest of the group then gathered around. "Sorry if it isn't perfect. I based this off sketches from our scouts, as well as what I remember from the Battle of the Eagle and Lion five years ago. And then there's the inaccuracies introduced by my imperfect abilities at drawing…"

"Would you please put an end to the excuses, Ignatz?" Lysithea interrupted. Ignatz likely expected a chastising, but she finished, "This is very impressive, so there's nothing to get all apologetic for."

The young man smiled warmly at the compliment, likely surprised considering that he and Lysithea did not mesh particularly well at the academy. "Right, of course. Well, it's all yours, Claude."

"Right," Claude nodded. "As you know, we will be approaching Gronder Field from the east, south-east. I will hold the center with the Riegan troops. Franz, you will take the right with the Gloucester soldiers. Judith, I want you leading my left flank with the troops from the rest of the houses." He said this knowing that the creek, forest, and cliffs to the north would limit his right flank's maneuverability. Complex movements would have to be initiated on his left, so he obviously wished for the more trusted general to lead there.

Claude pointed towards a feature at the center of the map. "Gronder Field is mostly flat, with the exception of the cliffs to the far north and this hill at the center. A platform with four ballistae is positioned on its top. It goes without saying that this is one of the most strategic sites on the battlefield. Capturing it will be essential to our victory. It will be difficult to safely deploy our wyvern units without it."

"Will the Adrestian army be centered around the hill?" Franz asked.

"Unlikely. We believe it will be a relatively forward position in their lines. That might seem counterintuitive, but Fort Merceus is located back to the west," Claude explained as he ran his finger along the map. "If they center the whole army about the hill, they risk their path of retreat being cut off. Based on our reconnaissance, their army won't be large enough to cover the hill completely while also defending the road to Merceus. They are unlikely to fortify the cliffs to the north for the same reason."

"So, how are we going to take the hill?" Raphael interposed. "If it's pure muscle you need, I'm happy to lead the charge!"

Raphael had been present in previous strategy conferences and ought to have known the answer, but there was no harm in repeating it for Franz's sake. "No, that would be too costly. Instead, I'd rather apply pressure on the flanks to try to force them to withdraw or be surrounded. They won't make it easy, and they may suspect such a plan. That's where the cavalry comes into play. Leonie, can you explain?"

"Sure thing, Claude," Leonie assented as she stepped up to the map. "We've been doing everything we can to keep the Empire in the dark on the number of cavalry units we have. We've kept the horses in the center of our caravans out of sight and have been extra careful to shot down any flying scouts. Inflow and outflow of troops has been very limited to inhibit spies. We've even concealed our horse feed just in case our supplies fall into the wrong hands."

Leonie made a sweeping arc over the map from the east towards the west in a clockwise motion. "We'll stay in the grain, out of the field and out of sight, and then pounce on the imperial army by surprise to shatter their right flank. The forest to the north could also provide cover, but dealing with the creek on that side will slow our charge enough to ruin our advantage."

Claude took back control of the council at that point. "Of course, there's always the chance we won't have the element of surprise at all or that it will fail due to some other unforeseen circumstance. In that case, my next plan would be to try an oblique order on our left flank. Riegan troops will shift to support Judith and the cavalry, and Gloucester troops will thin to cover any holes we leave. Ultimately, though, none of this matters if the imperial army pops any serious surprises. That's why we have a signaller. Judith?"

On the cue, Judith began to pass out rolls of parchments to each of the attendees. She explained, "In case you were not aware, Franz, we use a flagging system to indicate general maneuvers. Hold position, retreat, advance, things like that. More complex commands will require messengers, but it's best to avoid that when possible. The three divisions will each have their own flag. Ultimately, it is the responsibility of the people here to communicate the orders to their soldiers."

Raphael scratched his forehead as he read his copy. "Wait, what's going on here? When we skirmished with the Gloucester troops awhile back, all of these were completely different. At least… I think they were?"

Claude answered, "Your memory is correct. We have to rotate the meaning of each flag for every battle. It would be a serious issue if the Empire was able to decipher their meaning so easily. But you, Ignatz, Hilda, and Lysithea should stay near me the entire time, so I'll admit it isn't the end of the world if you don't memorize them."

"Is there anything more to discuss, leader?" Franz asked as he stared at the parchment in his hands with squinted eyes. "If not, I will need to convey this information to my subordinates, as well as get accustomed to these signals."

"That should be all for now. We will meet up again tomorrow morning before we depart to make sure there are no additional questions or concerns. Thanks for listening, everyone."

Franz and Judith both took their leave as Claude rolled the map back up. He would have followed them shortly, if he was not stopped by Ignatz.

"Before you go, Claude… would you be interested in staying for a quick prayer with us? I think it would be beneficial, and it's something we can all do together," Ignatz requested.

Claude frowned. In his experience, he never identified a correlation between religious devotion and military success. "I don't think really think praying is going to be nearly as helpful as preparing your weapon and reviewing tomorrow's signals."

"Oh, there's no need to be like that, Claude," Leonie scolded. "Come on, it will only take a few seconds."

"Well… So long as we don't take this as a sure promise of victory, there's no harm in it," Claude relented. He then joked, "Something tells me Edelgard isn't prioritizing her prayers, so if the goddess is listening, it shouldn't even take a particularly long or eloquent one to get on her good side."