Silver Snow Revised

by Cosmic Sky

When Byleth Eisner came to Garreg Mach, he brought an unexpected hope with him. It was a hope Rhea knew she had to nurture, never suspecting that things wouldn't quite work out as she expected. Byleth would show her that wasn't a bad thing. Likewise, she'd become something unexpected but precious to him. This is the story of the silver studded path they walked together.

11. Chapter 10-The Valiant and Vile Pt2

Hello, everyone. Been a bit longer than I would have liked from my last update, but I had things to do this summer, and I've still got a couple of things to do going into this fall. Luckily, I was finally able to make some tie to bring you the next update of this rewrite. Originally, I did want to get this chapter out a few weeks ago, specifically on September 16th since Byleth is something of a dark knight himself, but alas. Anyways, I'm here and I'm hoping you'll all enjoy this chapter.

I do not own anything.

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Silver Snow Revised

Chapter 10-The Valiant and the Vile Pt.2

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Henri Brauer had woken up believing it was going to be a good day. A pleasant morning had furthered that reassurance. A full-course breakfast prepared by his cooks with the promise of a splendid lunch when Lady Elisa would be arriving. It'd be their fourth lunch together, and with any luck, it'd lead the way to dinner, and then something more. Much more. It'd been what he'd been building toward for the last three months. All his planning, all his dreams, all of it was on the cusps of coming true. The excitement was brimming through him as he made one last run through his collection.

Obtaining the sculptures had been anything but easy, but nothing of value in life came without effort. Henri believed a certain amount of effort had to be put into life before one could sit back and enjoy its pleasures, and he believed he'd put in enough. Now he was ready to enjoy the fruits of his labors.

And upon welcoming Elisa Hartwich, he was reminded how sweet those fruits were.

"Well, someone's happy to see me." The honey-haired artist remarked with a smile that sent a jolt of excitement racing through him. He'd worked hard to earn those smiles.

"What can I say, I enjoy your company, and I think it can safely be said you enjoy mine. Perhaps a bit more so than my collection." He responded. "Don't worry though, they're all waiting for you."

Her smile broadened as she stepped forward. Henri could have sworn his own was threatening to split his face. It was his goal to not only keep it on her face, but make it shine even brighter. Luckily, he was confident that he could do that. He had everything going for him: his statue collection had hooked her, and his artistic knowledge had been enough to keep her interested. That and his impressive wealth, some of which he'd happily donated to her. All of it just came together so perfectly.

Everything that came afterward went perfectly as well. As he had before, he gave her a grand tour of his statue collection, even showing her those he'd previously held off on, including his much-prized statue of Saint Cichol. It was amongst the greatest pieces of his collection. Sure, it might not have been as large or imposing as those that stood in the hallowed halls of Garreg Mach, but it was still a wonderful likeness of the Hammer of Justice. He thanked the saint himself that he'd been able to procure it, perhaps even the man himself was radiating his blessings through the statue.

In what seemed no time at all, midday had arrived, and with it, lunch. For such a fine spring day, eating outdoors seemed like a good idea, more so given the skill of his cooks. Henri never had a reason to complain about the price in keeping them on hand, both because he could afford them, and because their culinary work was worth every coin.

"Hmm, Almyran cuisine, huh?"

"I know it's a favorite of yours, and this is something of special occasion. Would you like me to put in a word for something different?"

Her eyes twinkled with joy as she shook her head. "Never. Su boreği is not easy to make, nor is it often that I can find someone who can cook it as well as your cooks can." She answered while looking at the flatbread-like pastry with hungry eyes.

"I'll make sure to pass on that praise to Gordon and the others. They'll no doubt love to hear it. Just as I'm sure you'd no doubt love to dig into this delicious meal." He cracked.

"Yes, I am, but first, I…I must say thank you, Henri." The hunger in Elisa's eyes was replaced by something else, genuine admiration and even affection. He'd been pursuing both with determination, and now he was finally getting them. "I can tell that you've gone out to impress me, and I must say…it's worked." Those words made his heart beat so fast Henri felt like it might explode. "No man I've previously met has put in as much effort as you, and actually meant-"

Grraaaaahhhraaa!

Wyverns had a long and varied history. Some people were enamored by them, others loathed them, and then there were those who were just downright indifferent. One thing they all had in common was it was generally agreed upon that in the right circumstances, their roars could be downright terrifying. Henri didn't particularly have any great love or disdain for them, but he definitely agreed that hearing a wyvern's roar at the right time could be terrifying. Enough to make one jump out of their skin. That's what he did; he literally jumped to his feet when he saw the wyvern approaching him. It took him several seconds to realize the beast was flying directly toward him.

"W-W-What?! What in the goddess'-h-h-hey! W-W-Wait! S-S-Stay back! Stay-" His words fell on deaf ears and continued to do so as he wailed in dismay. The wyvern paid him no mind as it continued to fly, now carrying him in one of its clawed legs. "Help! Someone! Heeeelp!" Henri wailed. On the ground, he saw Elisa and the others on the ground reacting in shocked horror, pointing to him "Heeelp!" He screamed again as their forms grew smaller and smaller, eventually completely vanishing from view. The same went for his manor. Within moments his home became just one of many on the block, and then the entire neighborhood was gone. His screams were lost to the wind, but that didn't stop him from trying. Fear had a way of doing that. Even if he couldn't be heard, he still shouted for help. Surely someone was going to hear him? Surely someone would alert the town guard or the mayor that a kidnapping was happening! Right?!

"Let me go!" Henri yelled again. "Dammit, let me go! I promise, I'll have my cooks prepare something good for you! Whatever the hell you want, you overgrown lizard!" His words did nothing to change the beast's mind. Looking down, Henri immediately regretted them as he realized just how high up he was-the wyvern letting him go now would result in a short trip to the ground with a painful end. "Gaaaaaaahhh! Why is this happening to me! Someone, anyone, he-"

The vice grip the wyvern had on him was released. For the briefest moment, new terror seized him as he feared he'd begin plummeting to his death. All too quickly, that fear was alleviated as he hit something hard and solid. Henri felt himself rolling across it. Though the pain was slight, it was nothing compared to the broken bones he'd have felt if he'd hit the ground from so high up.

Confusion quickly seized him as he tried to get his bearings. Fear and adrenaline still pumped through him leaving him a quivering mess.

"Heh, sounds like I pulled you away from quite a meal." Came a voice seemingly from the beyond.

"D-D-D-Damn right you pulled me away from a meal! Y-You-! You…" Slowly, as the fear wore off, his mind began to regain its original functionality. With it came remembrance. He knew that voice. He knew it and silently hoped he'd never hear it again. It was a voice that could bring down everything he'd struggled to build. Praying it wasn't real, he flipped himself onto this stomach and looked up. "Oh no, not you."

His grin hadn't changed, even though his outfit certainly had. No matter the rumors, he'd never quite been able to believe that Enrico had joined the Knights of Seiros, that he'd became a knight. It seemed like nothing but a bad joke, yet he stood several feet from him, dressed in knightly armor bearing the Church's sigil on it. It actually went rather well with the silvery gray hair that he'd known so well. It still fell over his face in a somewhat wild manner, yet it was cut well enough in a manner that could be deemed in line with the knights' regulations.

Those dark blue eyes shimmered with affection as he turned to the winged beast that had swept him up and carried him off, he now realized on Enrico's command. He stroked the beast with open affection, seemingly listening to its hisses and even purrs.

"Hey, Henri, you just gave us an idea of what we'll be eating for lunch!" The wyvern rider jubilantly remarked as he turned back to him.

"You ought to be eating in a cell!" Henri barked while pushing himself up to his feet. They wobbled nearly bringing him back to his knees. They wobbled again as the jet-black wyvern turned its gaze toward him, a threatening hiss leaving its draconic lips. "E-E-Enrico," he called.

"Hey, down, Mephisto. We'll get you something to eat, just be a little patient. As for you, Henri, hehehe, we both know you'd be having your meals in a cell next to mine if the truth about your collection really came out."

Henri bit his tongue knowing how right he was.

That was the thing about building one's fortunes on criminal activity. There was always that domino waiting to fall, that one card that could be pulled out and send the whole thing crashing down. He looked at the man who had the power to bring his house of cards crashing down with equal parts annoyance and apprehension.

"What do you want, Enrico? Here to extort me?" He asked weary of the answer.

"Not quite. I'm just hear for information on behalf of the Knights." The former thief calmly replied. He crossed both arms in front of his chest in a show of force that was actually imposing. With that simple gesture, he went from being the hotheaded bandit that Henri once knew to something else. "I know you still have contacts in the black market, you've heard some things. No doubt info including the Heroes Relics that we're going to be transporting back to Garreg Mach."

"Hah! You're really here to do your job as a knight?"

"Yes." Replied the gray-haired man with utmost seriousness. At first, Henri wanted to laugh it off, but within seconds, the saw the utter seriousness in his eyes. It was…startling. "Like I said, I know you still have contacts. I know you've heard something, and I want to hear what you've heard. Anything will do."

Henri regarded him for another second before looking around. They were pretty high up, the building had to be at least six stories. Seemingly no one had noticed him being carried through the skies by the wyvern. Given it was one likely hatched and bred by the Knights of Seiros, and ridden by a former bandit like Enrico, the beast had known what it was doing. It knew to pick him up and bring him to its master with as much discretion as possible. The only thing he had going for him was that his kidnapping had been done in the comfort of his own home with witnesses. That was still cold comfort to him.

One look at the black-scaled wyvern told him that if he tried to give Enrico the runaway, it was going to show him a ferocity that could match its grim coloration. And that was to say nothing of Enrico himself. Looking back at him, he saw once again how serious he was about this. He was going to get the information out of him, one way or another.

That left him with only one option.

"Alright, I might know a thing or two about those Relics being moved. There're loose lips in House Varley, looser than normal."

"Yeah, and the sky is blue." Enrico jabbed. "Can you give me names?"

"Maybe one or two. I'm sure they're not the only ones, but they're the ones I can solidly point you toward."

"Fine, I'll take 'em. What else do you know?"

"Well, I can tell you that the mastermind of this attempted thief is more than likely Octavio Ottosen." Enrico's concentrated expression broke with a short-lived sigh. "Surely you know how long he's been trying to get his hands on Hero's Relics so he could sell them. The amount of money he'd be able to make would be staggering, not to mention if he could do it once-"

"He'd be able to do it again. Especially with Adrestia in such a sorry state."

"Don't forget the Kingdom, and finally there's your old home of Leicester." He gave a nonchalant shrug. While he may have become a knight, he hadn't forgotten the things he'd seen-the cracks in the shiny exterior of the three nations. "From what I've heard, there's a buyer in Leicester. It's not just the Hero's Relics that they're after."

"I know, a few works of art and such. The sort of things you'd be interested in, heh, and probably half a dozen other art dealers and collectors in Leicester."

"Yes, so you know that you'd best stop them here, otherwise they'll disappear into Alliance territory and you'll likely need nothing short of a miracle to pick up their trail again. If at all."

"Noted." Enrico stated before his eyes took on that serious glint despite his lips curving into a smile. "Now then, about Octavio's plan to steal the Relics."

"I can do without the threats." Henri groaned, his eyes on the winged reptile giving him a slight growl. Composing himself, he looked directly toward Enrico. "What I can tell you is that he'll be sending some of his best men to steal them en route to Garreg Mach. They'll also be equipped with for the task, including some strange new device that can apparently detect the divine energies Relics house within them."

That obviously caught his attention. "What can you tell me about the device?"

"Next to nothing as I've only heard of it through word of mouth. I believe you've got a Crest scholar at Garreg Mach who's been working on similar technology. Apparently, it's from the same branch of research. Now if it'll actually work…that's a gamble you knights are going to have to take." Enrico's brow knitted. He seemed to be considering if he and his compatriots wanted to do that. "Anyways, they've likely got scouts moving into position along the routes that you'll likely take. What I can absolutely tell you…is that a tradeoff of some sort will happen far to the east, near an old underground pass. It branched off of a mining tunnel that's been long abandoned."

"I don't suppose you can tell me which one." Enrico asked with a cocked eyebrow.

"Get me a map and I'll see what I can do." His smile took on a devilish tone making Henri immediately regret his words. He really didn't Enrico paying him another visit, and especially at the worst possible time.

"Those names of insiders you mentioned, I'd like them."

"Enrico, can you promise me that once this is over, none of this will be traced back to me." Henri spoke trying to clamp down on the seed of unease within him.

The silver-haired man threw back his head in laughter. "Hey, you've managed to cover your tracks this well so far, I'm sure you'll do just fine after this. Especially since certain parties will either be six feet under or locked away. Better keep it up to make sure you don't join them!"

Fears of both kept Henri up at night, but mostly the latter. He had no idea what awaited him, but he prayed it wasn't the eternal flames. Surely his sins weren't grave enough to warrant that. No, what he feared was spending his life in a cell, a dark, cramped cell waiting out his inevitable death. Release may have been possible, but what would he have to his name? Absolutely nothing.

Maybe helping the Knights of Seiros could redeem whatever taint there existed on his soul.

"Alright, Mephisto, time to get back to everyone with this new information." Enrico declared after he told him all that he knew. The wyvern growled as it spread out its wings. The sight gave Henri flashbacks to seeing those leathery limbs soaring across the sky with him in the beast's clutches. That was one experience he never wanted to go through again. "Well, Henri, best of luck from here on out!"

"You better be wishing me luck! You ruined my lunch date, you dastard!" The former bandit's response was a dismissive chuckle as his beast took flight. "Huh, w-w-wait! W-W-What about me! Can't you get me down from here!"

"Sorry, we're in a bit of a hurry! There's a set of stairs over there! Use your legs! Get some exercise!" Enrico shouted as his mount took him off the rooftop and away. Henri felt a vein forming on his forehead as he shouted curses at the wyvern flier. Just like before, they were lost to the wind leaving Henri Brauer to do nothing but shout to the sky before eventually beginning his long journey back home.

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Bremen Cathedral…

"I need maps of the general area. Of Zellerfeld and the surrounding area, especially those to the east bordering the Alliance. I also want any and all maps of subterranean mines. I don't care how old they are."

His requests were immediately followed through while several stared at him. Amongst them were his students, who were once again in awe of him. Next to them were the armed forces of the Varley Archers, several of whom were downright gawking at him. He was used to those reactions.

Moments later, aids came back carrying with them folded up maps that he took and spread out over the massive wooden table before him. His eyes immediately began scanning them, drinking in every detail of the land they represented. Some of them looked worn while others new. Byleth took in their details regardless, quickly, and quietly noting any changes in them. His finger rose, tracing across pathways and roads. He immediately spotted the road that his party had used to reach Zellerfeld. It was a commonly used road which meant using it to go back with the Relics would be inviting danger. That said, they could still use it if they played their cards right. Deception was a part of how criminals operated, yet it could also be used to elude them.

"Uh, hey, kid, do you need some-"

"He requires no assistance. Just wait for him to finish analyzing the maps." Came Edelgard's commanding and confident voice. Byleth took it as a small boost of confidence.

Two humorful chuckles reached his ears. Recognizing both, he looked up at the two senior knights who'd occupied the party on the mission. First there was Rhona, whose composure he'd came to admire in meeting Count Varley. Second was Enrico Belden, the wyvern flier assigned as their air support. He'd also proven himself to be a good intel gatherer considering almost ten minutes he came back with some much appreciated information. Information he was now using to sculpt a plan of action. The silver-haired man took one look at him and smiled, saying he was eager to see what he did with the info he'd gathered. The same went for the other armed forces he'd partially be commanding-the Varley Archer Corps.

Byleth was more than happy to deal with them instead of the count himself, who'd left to tend to other matters. It felt like Byleth could finally breathe again. Even having the skeptical eyes of the professional soldiers on him didn't damper his mood. It was just more of the same.

Barret Kofler was the head of the Varley Archers. A male brunette with dark brown eyes that continuously stared at him with questioning curiosity. While he hadn't openly said anything, it was clear he was somewhat skeptical of him. Not even Edelgard's word had been enough to totally silence the bearded man's concerns. He didn't blame him. While he seemingly held little love for his lord, the pride of his forces was on the line.

"Urgh, this is insanity! Why are we letting the sell sword come up with a plan! Shouldn't that be your job!" Shouted one of the archers present.

Rhona hardly emoted as she briefly flickered her eyes his way. Without a word, they returned to Byleth. "What do you think? Have you figured out a route for us to take back to Garreg Mach?" She calmly asked.

"I've figured out a few."

"Ones that'll work?" Another archer questioned with a cocked brow.

Byleth looked out toward the long table that seated both his students and Kofler and a handful of his lieutenants. "Yes, I do. In fact, I've got a few ideas. First and foremost, the path we took to get here, Mansory Way, is likely going to be heavily watched by the enemy. In fact, I'm certain it's being scouted out now by the bandits."

"Obviously," Hubert murmured. "Professor, surely you're not suggesting we take that way back…unless you plan on surprising them." The oily-haired student added with a slight smirk.

"As a matter of fact, I do. One group will take the route back to Garreg Mach Monastery." The obvious implication manifested on everyone's faces. "Yes, we're going to split up into multiple groups to throw the enemy off." Grabbing his chosen map, he pinned it up to the board behind him. Several had to strain their eyes and even get out of their seats to come forward to see it. "We've got three routes leading back to Renpet which are well-known. These routes will likely all have some enemies guarding them."

"Um…i-isn't there…a-a way without enemies? S-S-S-Some route we could just…sneak through?" Came Bernadetta's shy voice. Out of everyone, she was openly shaking at the idea of open combat while others looked none too perplexed to even salivating at the thought of it.

"There are, but they'd take time." Byleth answered back. He saw that Bernadetta didn't seem to mind that, but those around her were something of a different story. "Combat is to be expected, but we can steal the element of surprise by the enemy. First and foremost, they now have no idea which way the group carrying the Relics will be going." He saw a wave of slight discontent roll through the Varley Archers. With Enrico's return came a few reveals they weren't proud of. As they spoke of strategy, those traitors were now likely sitting in cells awaiting criminal charges; they'd likely be filed after the mission was over, and hopefully successful. All that said, he was glad that everyone sitting in the room now was at least trustworthy, it made the next part of his speech possible. "We're going to split up into two groups, one will be headed by Captain Rhona, and the other will be headed by me. Both groups will have mages who'll be using their magic to make it seem as if both parties are whole."

His eyes swept across the room, but they came to rest on Hubert. In seconds, the dark sorcerer got his message, nodding in silent understanding. His dark magic and his shadowy tactics would come in handy in turning what the bandits thought would be a surprise attack into a potentially fatal trap.

"And if the enemy sees through the ruse?" Came a voice of curious dissent.

"My illusion magic is not easily seen through." Rhona spoke up, barely the smallest hint of pride in her voice. "That said, we have taken precautions." Several looks were exchanged amongst those in the room, but no one dissented. At least not now. Rhona looked back to Byleth, yielding the floor back to him.

Walking to the map, Byleth pointed to route that They'd taken to reach Zellerfeld. "Rhona's group will be taking Mansory Way. As for my group, we'll be taking the Lotec Trail. The former will depart tomorrow morning with the latter following suit shortly after. Ultimately, both groups will meet at Draycott. They were informed that they'd be a stopping point before this mission began so they know we'll be coming. For secrecy's sake, upon arrival, they'll ask for a code work." Pausing, he looked around making definitively sure he had everyone's attention. Once he did, he spoke. "The code word is Helswath. I repeat, the password is Helswath. Write it down if you have to." He avoided looking at anyone specific.

There was a pause so the information could sink in, and be memorized.

At its end came the question that Byleth knew was inevitably going to come up. "Alright, so which group is going to be carrying the Relics?"

Byleth looked to Rhona, her stoic gaze matching his. A silent understanding passed between them as they looked back to the assembly of students and warriors.

"For the sake of security, that information is going to stay between me, Professor Eisner, our forces, and you, Sir Kofler." Rhona stated. As expected, a variety of looks and murmurs broke out. Several looked to the students and Byleth. The professional soldiers weren't shy about making their unease and even disapproval evident. For their part, the students handled it well, or most of them.

To his left, Byleth looked over and caught Edelgard's piercing gaze. Without saying a word, she asked if she was going to be told the location of the Relics. That was her question, not which group she'd be in, but just where the enemy's true objective would be. He'd tell her, as well as placate the rest of his students when he got the chance to.

"Alright then, that's out of the way." Spoke the head archer. The discussions went on for a second longer before quieting down. Byleth was sure they'd start back up once it was just the Varley Archers. That or when he could get Byleth or Rhona alone for a talk.

Byleth was certain that he was going to be talking with a lot of people. There were a handful that he felt he really needed to discuss things with. Two girls stood at the top of his list. One was his obviously nervous student, who'd resorted to playing with the straps of her hoodie. The second wasn't visible to any of them, but the urgency he felt toward her was palpable.

He quietly mused on the irony. Odds were, several would pray to the goddess for their plan's success. No one save for him knew that she was more than likely preoccupied with her own thoughts. He hoped his words would get through so their prayers could, if possible.

-O-

"I see. So that's your plan. Well, I'll say it's pretty daring, which I kind of like."

"It's something of a gamble, which I hear you're fond of, Kofler."

The brown-bearded looked away sheepishly at the admission. "When it comes to important stuff like this, I try to make sure the odds are significantly in my favor." His dark eyes swept over the trio before him. "With you three here, I'd say they are. Especially you two."

Neither Byleth nor Rhona emoted much. Enrico, obviously, was a different story. "Geez, don't I count for anything? I'm the one who got us that intel!"

Kofler chuckled. "Pal, I had no idea you existed until today. Those two on the other hand, I've heard of, and damn am I happy to have them on our side."

Enrico shrugged and smiled before turning to his compatriots. As befitting of her element, Rhona had a look of seeming indifference on her face, but not entirely. One could catch the fain whiff of an upward smile on her face. As for the Ashen Demon, there was no such thing.

"Lady Rhea made sure to see some of her best given the situation." Spoke the former.

"And I see that includes a newly minted teacher." Kofler said while focusing on Byleth. The moment he turned his gaze to him, the archer seemed to tense up a little. It passed as Byleth looked away, no doubt for his sake. "Then again, you're also one of the best damn mercs in the world, so having you on our side is a definite plus. To be frank, I'm kind of doubtful that you'll even need backup from your students."

"This won't be the first time we've dealt with bandits. Granted, I imagine these bandits will be somewhat better armed since they're under the employ of a professional crime boss." Byleth's face turned pensive, a hand even rising to his chin in naked contemplation. "I've heard a little bit about this man, Octavio Ottosen. He's one of the biggest crime bosses in Adrestia, correct?"

"Yep. Pain in the ass that no one's really had the balls to get rid of, no doubt because he's wormed his way into the right circles." Enrico affirmed. "If we can tie him to this attempted theft, it might help a little, but it's not going to be the take down that folks are hoping for. Including the count. No offense, Kofler."

"None taken." Responded the Adrestian knight. "Still, it's something that I'm sure the Count would love to envision. Being able to take down Ottosen is the sort of thing he'd dream of. It might be enough to-"

"Give him the ability to compete with Count Hevring for the control of the Empire's justice department?"

Kofler looked back to Byleth, surprise on his face. "Uh, yes, actually. I mean, I, uh, take it you've heard about the little spat between the two houses?"

"Yes. Linhardt brought it up, and frankly, I can smell the greed and ambition rolling off of your count. No offense."

A humorous chuckle slipped from the knight's lips. "Again, none taken. He's a greedy dastard always looking for an opportunity to advance himself. Everything and everyone else be damned." Byleth caught the heated tone of the latter half of his phrase.

Bernadetta. He immediately thought.

"I'm sorry if he caused you any undue stress." Kofler said.

Byleth and Rhona shared a short look between one another. "Apology accepted." He answered. "For now though, forget about him. He wants the glory of this, fine, let him have it. What matters is those Relics are safely transported back to the Monastery."

"With a plan like this," Enrico popped his fingers against the map before them. It'd been moved from the wall for presentation to the table for the four's personal viewing. "That's what's going to happen. We got all the cards in our favor. Your students are also going to have another opportunity for live combat." The silver-haired man added in Byleth's direction.

"Be that as it may, remember, Enrico, they are still children. If push comes to shove, you know what to do." Rhona said. Despite not looking his way, Byleth felt the words had been directed toward him as well.

Rhona may have been a stoic and distant person, but as he'd seen with his own eyes, she had a compassionate side. It wasn't just for her brother though. He took solace in that, even finding a bit more kinship with the woman than he already did.

Looking back to Kofler, he noticed how…relieved he looked. It didn't take much to guess as to why.

At least she had people who cared about her growing up. Byleth briefly noted with a measure of solace. His attention turned elsewhere as he called out to the silent abyss of his mind. Sothis, Sothis. Are you there?

Just as it'd been for the past hour, nothing. It didn't detour Byleth though. He'd try again latter, perhaps after things had calmed down a little more.

Things progressed one step more with Rhona folding up the map and Enrico indicating they were all finished. Though Kofler agreed, his eyes briefly moved to Byleth. He looked back, silently confirming he'd stay behind to talk with him. Rhona and Enrico seemed to pick up on the conversation, the former telling him he'd tend to his students before he joined them. The pair of Seiros Knights quietly left the meeting room, leaving Byleth and the head of the Varley Archers alone.

"Um, Professor Eisner, I…I know this may seem like an odd request to make, but-"

"I'll look after Bernadetta. She's one of my students after all, one whom I'm gaining a bit more of an understanding toward." He cut off.

Kofler's eyes widened in surprise, then lowered as he took in his words. "I…I see. Thank you, and I'm…sorry. She's…she deserves better than him."

Now that they were alone, the disdain that Kofler felt for his lord was beginning to fully show itself. Byleth wasn't surprised by it. "I can see how she's become so frightened of everything, and practically everyone. Every time she believes she's made a mistake, she apologizes for it until someone has to stop her and tell her she hasn't done anything wrong."

"You can think Count Varley for that." The male brunette clarified with obvious disdain. "He's got a very particular idea of what a 'proper woman' is supposed to be. A proper woman being what he wants to marry off to further increase his standing. I've seen such things before, but dammit, she's a person, his daughter, not some doll for him to auction off!" His fist came down against the table, the resulting thud echoing throughout the meeting room. Moments later he got his temper under control. "I heard that you and your students will be staying here at the Cathedral."

"Yes, we will. Mr. Helwig was kind enough to put us up for the night."

"Heh, good 'ole Helwig. He's the real back bone of the Ministry."

"I've gleaned some of that, and I'm glad he was there. Otherwise, things would have been…" Byleth trailed off, letting the thought hang in the air for Kofler to decipher. He did so immediately, letting out a grunting chuckle. "So long as he stays out of the way and stays away from Bernadetta, I can work with him."

Kofler chuckled again, albeit this time more light-heartedly. "Again, thanks. She's…Bernadetta's had a hell of a rough start, and I was worried about her going to Garreg Mach Monastery. I was especially worried hearing that the Ashen Demon was going to be teaching the Black Eagles. Not that I'm trying to knock your combat abilities! I hear you're practically a certified army-buster! It's just…"

"I'm some harsh taskmaster, a fore of pure destruction that annihilates all in stand in my way? That I'm really some soulless golem that must be directed at the enemy then set loose? That I'm a mute?" Byleth rattled with, his lips ever so slightly chipping upward in a ghostly smirk. Kofler looked baffled at his words before throwing his head back in laughter. "Yes, I'm aware of some of the stories surrounding, particularly my…lack of social grace."

"Well, from what I've seen, you've got enough of it. Enough that the right people trust you. Since they do, I'm going to do the same, also on account of I owe you one for Bernadetta."

"Thank you, and I promise I won't prove your trust misplaced."

After a nod, Kofler's lips formed into a grin. "Say, one of the stories I've heard is that you're quite an archer. That you even trained with Almyrans and gained their respect."

In an instant, Byleth felt a jolt of excitement rush through him.

"H-H-He's really good!"

The voice surprised both of them, partially since they recognized it. In unison, they turned to the door. While they couldn't see the purple-haired girl whom was a mutual interest to both men, they could have sworn they heard her shaking in her boots. Byleth and Kofler looked between one another, the latter developing a small smirk.

"I think there's enough time for a demonstration." Byleth spoke in a rather casual tone.

"Heh, that means you can show me what you can do with something other than a sword."

The smallest whiff of a smile graced the mercenary's face as he motioned toward the door. "I'm more than happy to show you."

---

Garreg Mach Monastery…

Thanks to the glow of sunset the black and red banner of the Black Eagles House took on a certain flamelike quality. Jeralt had noticed it with all the Houses' banners, but it was somewhat pronounced with the Black Eagles'. Contrary to their name, they were pretty heavily associated with red, right down to the house leader's mantle being red instead of black. Given the school uniforms, it was a wise design choice. He also felt like red symbolized the Adrestian Empire rather well. Powerful and imposing, things that the Empire had worked hard to cultivate over the centuries. Even now, far from the height of its peak, it was still undoubtedly a force to be reckoned with.

And now, his son was teaching its next generation of leaders, including its future emperor.

Jeralt never could have imagined it.

Standing before the Eagles' classroom, he kept on trying to picture Byleth in his position. What had his son felt standing there? Nervousness? Excitement? The latter was highly doubtful in Jeralt's opinion. Maybe his own personal feelings were also bleeding through. Teaching a classroom full of brats the ins and outs of combat? Would he have the patience for it? While he could put up with unruly clients, teaching required a different approach than dealing with such people. He'd say that it required an approach that his late wife would have had; maybe their son had inherited.

The thought of her made him once again wonder what would have happened if she hadn't died. If he'd stayed at Garreg Mach. He most certainly wouldn't be where he was now, contemplating how his son had ended up with a teaching position. Amongst his thoughts, Jeralt settled on one truth-if he had stayed, Byleth wouldn't have the knowledge necessary to teach his students.

He didn't like boasting, but Jeralt knew his own strength quite well. It was a fact that Byleth was close to him, as such, the Black Eagles undoubtedly had one of the best combat instructors imaginable. The kids were damn lucky.

But the question still gnawed at Jeralt, why them? Why not the Blue Lions? They were certainly a more capable fighting-

"Ah…so that's why." He whispered. A smile tugged on his lips. "Always seeking a challenge. Here's hoping that aspect about him doesn't change."

"If he's seeking challenges, he won't be disappointed. Several are just hoping the boy can deliver on his end."

"That won't be a problem. They'll find that he can deliver beyond their expectations." Turning around, he was greeted to the sight of his former sparring opponent, now ally. Like the rest of the landscape, Caden Hopley was too assailed by the blaze of the sunset. Normally, it'd perfectly accent his fierce demeanor, but that demeanor was nowhere to be found, even if there was a feral undertone to his grin. The War Master closed the distance between them, coming to stand beside Jeralt. "I take it you're someone who wants to see what he can do first hand."

"Yes sir, I am."

"Is this you, or is it-"

"It's me. This a personal venture. I've already cleared my request with lady Rhea. After fighting you, I personally want to see what he can do. Especially since he possesses the Crest of Flames." The blue-haired man declared before Jeralt could finish.

Why do I think that everyone wants to see that. Jeralt kept that thought to himself. It wasn't one he was in a hurry to verify, yet he felt like all he had to do was wait, watch, and listen. "Heard some of the stories on Nemesis, did you?"

"It's said the man was able to hold off all of the Ten Elites by himself, and each of them could lay waste to armies by themselves." Caden recounted with a wistful smile. He was just the sort of man who'd love to take on such an opponent himself, and the Elites too.

"Heh, you know, those are the kinds of stories Byleth grew up loving. Guess that's another thing you two will have in common." He gave a mirthful chuckle. "You and my son are going to get along great."

"Hahaha! I hope so! He's already getting along with some of the students from what I hear. 'Ole Alois has also taken a shine to him too, no doubt on account of him being your boy. Manuela and Hanneman seemed to have also taken him on as a colleague." His boisterous grin died down as he noted the increasingly subdued expression on Jeralt's face. "It surprises you, doesn't it? But you're not unhappy about it, are you, Captain?"

"…No, I…can't say I am. It's just…surprising like you said."

"Captain Jeralt…how much of Fόdlan did you tell Byleth of growing up?" Caden asked in a rather soft tone. Jeralt had a feeling he already knew his answer, but he vocalized it for him.

"Next to nothing. That includes any information about Crests." He turned to the blue-haired man, his eyes shining with stony fire thanks to the sunset behind them. "Caden, did your Crest come from Lady Rhea as well?"

"…Yes sir, it did. I believe you know what that means."

Just as I thought. "I do…and that means you'll probably be one of the best teachers Byleth could have asked for."

Caden stared at him with a calm, analytical look. It was hard to believe this was the same fierce fighter he'd fought little more than two weeks ago. At least until his lips curved upward in a grin. "You know what the Scarlet Sting is based on. If I hit the right place, I can prevent him from using his Crest at all. Not to mention I can leave the kid in quite a bit of pain."

Jeralt gave a dismissive shrug. "Pain's something he's experienced plenty of before, and he's overcame it time and time again. Byleth's fought pressure point fighters like you before and beaten them."

"Oh, has he now? That just makes me more excited to face him!" Caden howled. It wasn't surprising that he took the news with glee rather than disappointment. His right hand rose, namely his finger. While the crimson nail he used as his weapon didn't appear, Jeralt still kept his eye on the raised finger. "Lady Rhea gave me permission to go up to Decem. I'm assuming you have an idea of how bad that'll be."

The Scarlet Sting was deserving of its reputation. Just one so-called sting could leave even a well-trained fighter on the ground, groaning in pain. Also, just one sting in the right place could prove fatal. Another could leave the target on the ground, begging for death. Ten stings?

Jeralt chuckled. "Then you'll be able to give Byleth the kind of challenge he wants. He'll be all for it after coming back from this mission that's going to see him fighting nothing but bandits."

"Actually, Lady Rhea told me to wait until after Saint Macuil Day. It's probably better that way. If we give each other the fight we're looking for, neither of us will be in any condition to celebrate. It'd be especially bad since this would be Byleth's first Saint Holiday."

A slight grimace crossed the old knight's face as he lowered his head a little. "You've…got a point there." The sense of guilt was like a pin needle whose pain lingered in him. He knew it was only going to get worse. In particular, it'd intensify if he worked up the courage to tell Byleth more of his origins. I've got no one but myself to blame for this one. "I'll make sure to tell the kid when he comes back. Or do you want to tell him yourself?"

"Eh, I'd rather issue my challenge face-to-face. He deserves that much. Oh, by the way, we'll be fighting at Jagen Plateau."

That caused Jeralt to turn to him with a raised eyebrow. Caden grinned at him like a little kid who'd just gotten one over on an adult. "Huh…that's a place I haven't been to in a while. If you're fighting there, then it means you two will really be able to go wild." A wave of nostalgia washed over him as he looked to the evening sky. For the briefest moment, he was transported back hundreds of years. The tops and corners of buildings were replaced by the open expense offered by the plateau. Jeralt remembered the sweat that poured down his bruised and exhausted body. Every breath hurt, but with it came a sense of accomplishment that made his heart swell with joy. His fist was raised to the setting sun in triumph, his compatriots following suit.

Turning around, Jeralt fully laid eyes on the sunset in the distant horizon. He was still back there-in the past he'd kept hidden from his son. It was a place he always looked back to with fondness; he always would no matter how much time passed or what became of his relationship with Rhea. Closing his eyes to the final moments of sunset, he fully immersed himself in the memory.

The joy and the exhaustion, the joy born from the exhaustion, it was a wondrous feeling.

Eventually, Jeralt opened his eyes. The sun had fully set beneath the horizon, yet its dying embers were still visible on the horizon. In time, they too would fade leaving the blackness of the night.

"I'm glad Rhea told you to wait until after Saint Macuil Day. There's…some things I want to do with Byleth-talk to him about." Even he could feel the change in his voice. An emotional change that he just couldn't put into words.

Caden bowed his head in respectful acceptance. "If you want me to wait a little longer, I'll do it. Just don't make me wait too long."

"Don't worry, it's not like it'll be that long. Once the festival wraps up, Byleth will probably devout all his focus to his match with you. The wait will be worth it." He declared with confidence. It was funny to that that his son was looking at such a busy schedule, some of which he didn't even know of, yet. This fight would definitely be more exciting than whatever scraps he was getting into with some would-be thieves. "Here I was wondering what the kid's first year was going to be like. It's definitely proving to be exciting."

"Any comparison to yours?" Caden questioned.

"A little, but I'd say that the kid's already shaping up to have more of an interesting first year than me. I never attracted as much attention as him…including that of a senior knight like Sebastian Eccles."

"Ah, I figured you'd hear about that." The War Master remarked. "Your thoughts? He's an arrogant prick, but he knows how to fight, and then some."

A thick sigh passed Jeralt's lips. It was faint but he could feel the coldness of the night beginning to set in. Thankfully, this was spring and not fall and certainly not winter. "Frankly…it doesn't surprise me. He's the type of person Byleth's never been able to get along with. I heard they came to blows over some Duscur children though."

"You know the situation between Duscur and the Kingdom. Those kids were lucky that Byleth, Amira, and the others were there, including the young prince."

"It was a setup. King Lambert's assassination." Once he had enough of the details, Jeralt recognized the so-called Tragedy of Duscur for what it was. Someone wanted to destabilize the kingdom, and maybe even uproot Duscur too. He'd heard that they had unique resources that were entirely unique to their homeland. It'd been a major part of the constant tension between them and Faerghus. That hadn't changed in the centuries he'd been alive. "Does anyone else in the Central Church share my suspicion?"

"Several, including Lady Rhea. That said, our investigations hit something of a dead end. Given the state of the kingdom, it'll take something drastic to pick it up. And it'll take something even more drastic if the true culprits turn out to be who several suspect. I'm guessing including you, Sir." Caden candidly declared.

Even if it'd been years, some part of him still cared for his homeland. Jeralt supposed that was something to take solace in. A deep sense of national pride and loyalty was something fostered in all Faerghus children, including himself. When he heard of King Lambert's death and the chaos it unleashed, there'd been a brief but evident ache in his heart.

"What are the odds members of the Western Church had a part in the king's assassination?" Jeralt asked.

"All over the place, but it's not been rolled out. Ironically, they think we had a part in Lambert's death."

Hearing that, Jeralt couldn't help but roll his eyes. That figures. Granted, that still doesn't roll them out as conspirators. This could just be deflection. The thought of going to Rhea and asking her to take over the case crossed his mind, but he quickly squashed the thought. Not only would it be hard to chase down leads, he was Captain-Commander of the entire Seiros Knighthood. Sure, he was entitled to his pet projects, but running the entire knighthood was time consuming, especially when they seemed to have a lot to do. All of it left Jeralt cursing; despite that, a part of him felt like he'd been guided back to Garreg Mach at perhaps the right time. So much seemed to be afoot in his homeland.

And Jeralt couldn't shake the feeling that his only child was going to be at the heart of it.

"I better get Byleth ready. Odds are this stuff will come up at the Gladius Cup."

"I've never been a sword guy, but this year I'm more interested than ever to check it out. Pretty sure the same's going to go for dozens of other people. Remire Village's going to get quite filled up when the tournament hits."

"Considering the revenue the Steel Gladius Cup brings in, they'd appreciate it. The biggest concern will be the fighting not getting out of hand."

"You know people might try to sabotage things, especially for Byleth. In the eyes of many, he's still going to be an upstart kid coming from nowhere. Even with his reputation, people are still going to see him as just another mercenary, even if only a skilled one."

A smile formed on Jeralt's lips. "That'd be their mistake. Those that try to sabotage him, and those that bet against him."

Caden chuckled, undoubtedly catching the double-meaning of his statement. He wondered if he'd step in to stop any sabotage himself. While he seemed like the type to sit back and enjoy a good round of chaos, Jeralt knew he had a warrior's pride. That pride would especially call him to act if Byleth's managed to earn his respect; he was certain he would after their sparring match.

"Spoken like a father with confidence in his son." The blue-haired man laughed while digging his hands in his pockets. Turning his back to him he began to walk away, having said what he needed to, and apparently heard what he wanted to.

Jeralt called out to him before he could get too far away. "Caden," he came to a complete stop and looked back at him, mild curiosity on his face. "Are you curious as to why I deserted Lady Rhea and the knights?"

He carefully watched him for his reaction, his heart beating in silent anticipation at his response.

"I'll admit, it's something I've wondered about, especially since you came back and were reinstated as Head Captain. I suspect it has something to do with Lady Rhea." Hearing that caused Jeralt to internally brace himself. "Whatever it is though, it's not my place to pry. She has her secrets, you have yours, both of you are entitled to that. Unless it's necessary, I'm not going to pry anything out of either of you. Heh, considering the both of you, I doubt I'd get very much without risk to my health."

Behind his humorous chuckle, Jeralt felt himself relax. While he'd considered that sort of response a possibility, it wasn't the one he'd been focusing on. He was happily surprised. "You know, you could always try to beat it out of me in a sparring match. This time no one overseeing us."

"Hah! What, you're trying to tempt me, Head Captain!" His hand was waved in a dismissive manner. "Like I said, you have your secrets, and I'm willing to respect that. Both as a subordinate…and as someone who also carries Lady Rhea's power within his veins. It'd break her heart if we spilt that blood, especially since she's content to let you keep your secrets. When or if you're willing to tell me the reason you left, I'll listen, but I won't try to force it out of you."

Respect for both him and Rhea were clear in his tone and words. Jeralt had to admit, he found himself taking more of a liking to Caden. The man was as fierce as fire, but his ferocity was tempered by restraint and a code of conduct that was befitting of a knight.

Secretly, selfishly though, he was glad that he wouldn't have to worry about him prying into past. The whispers had been omnipresent since he came back, both amongst the old and the new. Caden had proven to be something of an exception, focusing on his own interests, which thankfully didn't include his checkered past.

Speaking of pasts… "One more thing before you go, Caden." He called again. "If you don't mind me asking…how did…how did you come by Rhea?"

A wistful smile formed on his face. His right hand that he was sure was capable of great destruction came to rest over his heart. "I was a man rushing toward death, she stopped me and told me instead of focusing on death I should focus on life. Both my own and the lives of other. I know it's a bit ironic for a guy like me, but…I've tried."

"Keep at it." Jeralt immediately offered. The younger man looked to him with a hint of surprise on his face. "Guys like us are fighters, but we can have more in this life than just fighting and death. Well…provided we're willing to search for it."

"I'll keep that in mind, sir. Thank you." He replied with genuine gratitude in his smile.

After his departure Jeralt found himself staring at the spot the blue-haired and blue-eyed War Master had stood. Listening to him had felt somewhat like having a mirror conversation. He reminded Jeralt of himself centuries ago, albeit not entirely. Caden was just as loyal to Rhea as he'd been at that age, and like him he had a certain respect for her secrecy that probably benefitted their relationship. The cynical part of him wondered though if he'd still feel that way after a century or if something major happened between them. He quickly shook his head, feeling like he was almost hoping for such an event to happen when he truly wished for nothing of the sort, for Caden's sake and even Rhea's.

She'd given him more leeway did he deserved and everyone knew it, but few openly said anything about it. At least not here at Garreg Mach. According to what he'd heard, the Western Church had a very different view, but that was no surprise.

Turning back to the vacant classroom, Jeralt drifted back to thoughts of his son. He had absolutely no idea he'd just taken his students to the place that his ancestors had called home before migrating to Faerghus. Byleth had no idea that his talent with smithing and tinkering came from the Eisners that called Zellerfeld home before moving north.

They were all long since dead, but it gnawed at Jeralt that his son was so ignorant of his heritage. He had only himself to blame for that one.

Sighing, since he had only himself, he knew that he had to fix it himself. Zellerfeld was known for its blacksmithing, which was an interest of Byleth's. Maybe when they both had the time, he could schedule a personal trip back there. Assuming Count Varley hadn't forever tainted the place in his son's eyes.

---

Zellerfeld…

"Unbelievable! Fucking unbelievable!"

Bernadetta and several others laughed at the foul-mouthed exclamation. Not even the priests who'd came to watch the short exhibit. Some of them felt like such words were warranted.

A row of five targeting boards had been set up, each nearly five meters apart and a good twenty meters from the position of both archers. Each targeting board had been ruptured from the nonstop arrows shot into their centers. In the case of all five of them, one more shot would be all it'd take for them to-

Thunk! Thunk! Thunk! Thunk! Thunk!

"Finished. Can we move onto the hundred-meter targets?" Byleth asked in a stoic voice that belayed the hysteria that he'd created and remained at the center of.

Kofler looked at him with a gaping jaw before quickly shutting it. "Y-Y-Yeah! Damn right we're moving! Bring us the long bows!"

Given how closely tied the House Varley was tied to the Ministry of Religion, it was unsurprising that the Cathedral had training grounds. Those grounds could also serve a place for combat exhibitions. The Varleys favoring archer, open fields had been carved out not too far away from the cathedral for archery matches, such as the one between Byleth and Kofler. One that the former was winning by a solid margin.

To most, the target boards was barely little more than a distant blur. One had to focus to see it, or possess a superhuman set of eyes. It was hard to tell which was the case for the two archers as they let loose a new volley of arrows at their distant targets. Every shot seemingly followed the same path right down to their destination. The constant thunk! thunk! that spectators had heard before was renewed with these new, far more distant targets. There was hardly any change up.

New arrows tore into old arrows, far more often in Byleth's case than Kofler. While the latter certainly wasn't lacking in strength or precision, it was clear there was something different with his younger counterpart. Something that had put him over the edge. That difference manifested as they called to nearby mages, who raised their palms, blue light emanating from their hands.

Before each target appeared a rotating disk, a circular carve out large enough for an arrow to pass through, provided the archer could hit it.

Byleth did, every single time, even when the disks multiplied from one to two and then to three. He saw every perfect lineup and took it, while Kofler missed one or two. The former's precision appeared near superhuman. To the Varley Archers, it was quite a sight; normally, they were the ones given that kind of praise. It was rare for them to see such ability from an outside perspective.

Cra-ack! Cra-ack!

Both targeting boards split, one a second faster than the other.

"Hmm, that was shorter than I expected." Hubert commented from the sounds.

"You were expecting that at all?" Caspar gawked having stood right beside him.

"The Varley Archers are some of the best in the empire…and it seems our teacher is on par with them. Better than we might have originally believed."

Byleth felt a spark of pride in hearing Hubert's praise. "I hope you, Petra, and Bernadetta were taking notes from us."

"N-N-No way. I don't think I'm ever going to be as good as either of you." Bernadetta immediately squeaked throwing her hands up.

"That doesn't sound like the little girl that spent hours at it under our tutelage." Kofler decried.

"Nor does it sound like the girl that's been consistently scoring high marks on her archery exorcises." Byleth seconded. Bernadetta looked at him like he'd just offered her up on a silver platter. From her point of view, he might have. He'd found that sometimes he had to do exactly that to get her grow, and this was seeming like one of those times. "Could someone get another targeting board set up?"

The young noblewoman squeaked as he approached her with his longbow stretched out to her. "U-U-Um…I-I-I don't suppose you cast some sort of enchantment spell on yourself that you could pass onto me, could you, Professor?"

"Oh, wouldn't that be sweet relief to our dear leader's bruised ego." Came the snickering voice of one of the archers.

"Hey, hey, don't forget who's in charge here!" Kofler yelled before righting himself. "Now look, I'll acknowledge when I'm outmatched. At least when I'm at fifty-percent. Even matching that says a lot." He looked back to Byleth with a smile. "You're more than just a sword."

"Hah, you oughta see him with his fists, or even a spear! Professor Eisner's definitely one of the best!" Marching over, Caspar patted Bernadetta on the back. Being who he was and who she was, the pat made her stumble a little. "Go on, Bernie! Show 'em what you've got! Professor's been teaching you and now's your chance to show how much better you've gotten!"

"I-I-I-I…I-I…I…" She stammered looking at all the faces now looking at her. Her frightened eyes eventually focused on the bow, which she hesitantly reached out toward. "Oh man, w-w-why did I come here?" Still from his place on the side, Hubert chuckled. Byleth expected her to glare back at the oily-haired boy, but she didn't. Given her personality, he supposed that was asking for a bit much. All of Bernadetta's focus was on the target at least a hundred meters away. She'd hit targets from that distance before, and she'd done so with an audience. That prior experience made it a little bit easier for her to focus her shots. "Okay, you can do this, Bernie. You can do this. You can do this. You can do this…"

She was hyper ventilating. With his sharp hearing, Byleth could hear it clear as day.

Any thoughts, Sothis? He called out. Think she'll at least hit one bullseye?

…Perhaps. She first must get her aim right, and that's looking to be a challenge in itself.

Welcome back. Byleth greeted.

I'm not staying long. I have…other things I must…

I know, it's just…it's nice to hear your voice again, Sothis. He was actually disappointed that she disappeared from his mindscape so quickly. He really did want to talk to her, but at the sound of an arrow's release, he was pulled back into reality; someone else needed him. Refocusing his attention on Bernadetta, he immediately looked from her to the arrow she'd fired. Not only had it veered off course, it hadn't gone far enough by a good twenty meters. She squeaked out an apology before grabbing another arrow.

"Um, excuse me. I don't mean to interrupt potentially valuable combat practice, but perhaps it would be wise to call it a day. After all, there is little daylight left and you all will need your strength for tomorrow's journey." Helwig became the center of all the attention, particularly Bernadetta's. The priest shot her a quick, comforting smile.

"I believe so. Besides, we might need more arrows for tomorrow."

"Oh, don't worry. We Varley Archers always make sure we come equipped with enough arrows for the mission. Now then, let's put some food in our stomachs so we'll have the energy to use them!"

Bernadetta practically led the charge back to the cathedral. Byleth remained behind, his gaze flickering toward Helwig who gave him an apologetic bow. Despite his words, Kofler remained behind as well.

"I'm sorry if it felt like I was intruding on your attempt to train young Bernadetta. It just seemed that the girl had reached her limits."

"You don't have to apologize. The truth is, I'm still trying to figure out when to push her. It's…not easy."

"I'd say you're still doing a good job. Your way of pushing her is easily better than her father's." Kofler offered. "Coming back here has rattled her, that's for sure. We're just lucky that her old man wasn't here or else…" There was no need to vocalize what all three of them knew. "She'll find her fire again come tomorrow. I'm sure of it." Confident in that assurance, he the brown-bearded man started walking after the group.

Helwig kept pace with Byleth as the two men walked at an intentionally slower pace. "I'll try to make the time to talk to you if you're interested. That…incident with the Relics hasn't left your mind, I'm sure."

You don't know the half of it. "I've got so many questions, but there's not a lot of time for me to get answers to them." Not to mention not nearly enough time for me to see the armories and smitheries that this city is known for. "With what little time we do have, any theories on what happened when I got near the Relics?"

"Perhaps a resonance between the divine powers within you? I could sense the resonance down to my bones, and believe me, it was unlike anything I've ever felt before."

Byleth wondered if that's what Sothis had felt. She'd certainly felt something-something that mesmerized her. He wanted to believe that some of her memories had been recovered from coming into contact with the Relics; he couldn't confirm it though since the goddess seemed to be too preoccupied with her own thoughts. He'd try again just before going to sleep, and maybe again in the morning.

"I'll have a lot to talk about with Professor Hanneman back at the Monastery." Byleth simply said.

"I'm sure he knows about your Crest. I must admit, I'm glad that Linhardt was there to spill the beans. It'd feel a little rude of him to keep such knowledge all to himself."

"Have an interest in Crestology too, huh?"

"A passing one. It's not a requirement for the priesthood, but it helps. I don't mean to terrify you, but you'll probably be receiving quite a bit of attention once it's revealed you possess the Crest of Flames. Count Varley is just one of the many who'd love to have such a Crest within their family tree."

Byleth couldn't help but make a face at the all too obvious implication. "Can I at least count on Count Varley keeping what he heard a secret? I don't think he'd want anyone else learning about my Crest." He caught Helwig's sharp stare. It goaded him into spilling the rest of his thoughts. "At some point, I know it's going to get out, I'm just trying to prolong it for as long as possible."

"An admirable goal, one that I'll honestly wish you the best of luck in. You're undoubtedly going to attract a lot of attention because of it. You'll have quite a few ladies throwing themselves at you." A gleefully humorous chuckle rolled off the priest's lips. "Though something tells me they'll just be setting themselves up for disappointment. I have a strong feeling that it'll take a very special kind of woman to catch your eye, Professor Eisner."

He could already picture the type of women who'd come his way solely out of interest in his Crest. Helwig was right, those women were setting themselves up for disappointment, albeit Byleth wouldn't go out of his way in turning them down unless it was the only way to get his point across. "I'm more interested in the practical applications of my Crest than the…social ones."

"Do those practical applications include combat?"

He met the priest's cool gaze with one of his own. "Even if I've become a teacher, I'm still a warrior. That part of me hasn't changed."

"Maybe not…but I pray that that you will not fall to corruption as your predecessor did. Nemesis caused quite a bit of destruction when he turned to the darkness."

Byleth had read plenty of legends, they were some of his favorite things to read about. From a young age, he recognized that several of them ended in tragedy, such had been the case for the King of Liberation. "I'm going to do my best to avoid that, especially since I don't find anything appealing in tyrannizing people."

"And what about defending them?" Helwig asked with a light smile.

"…I'm…I'm…not the sort of person people look to for that. Not normally."

"Maybe not, but I have heard some of your more…nobler exploits. The Ashen Demon isn't without a heart, and perhaps that is why the goddess blessed you with her power." He continued with that soft smile.

The priest was being pretty optimistic without having much to support it. Nothing beyond a possible hunch, or maybe it was faith. Faith in the goddess that was currently lost in her own thoughts within Byleth. Maybe he was the one that he wanted to believe in.

It wouldn't be the first time a person of faith put their faith in Byleth, but he felt deep in his bones that this time was going to be different. He'd be lying if he didn't admit to himself it was a little overwhelming.

---

Bremen Cathedral had enough spare rooms that could be lent to the Black Eagles for the night. The students were all visibly relieved at the sound of that; Byleth was left wondering how they'd react to being forced to room together if such a situation ever came about. He had a feeling it wouldn't be tonight. Hopefully, this meant that everyone would be able to get a good night's sleep.

At the knock at his door, Byleth realized that someone might need a little help securing such. He already had an idea of who it was before he opened the door. "Bernadetta," he greeted.

She was dressed in sleepwear, which consisted of brown pajama pants and a white t-shirt. Nothing grandiose or even too revealing. It wouldn't surprise him if they were clothes that'd been provided by the Cathedral staff. "You…don't sound surprise to see me, Professor." Her head fell, "You knew I was coming, didn't you?"

"I had a feeling, is there something you wish to talk about?" Again, he already knew what her answer would be, but he couldn't help but humor her for her sake.

Her fingers dwindled with one another as she ducked her head. She was clearly trying to gather up her courage, which was seemingly done when she lifted her head to look at him. Then, she swiftly brought it down shouting, "I'm sorry! I'm so sorry I got cold feet this afternoon! I-I-I know I screwed up! Badly! H-H-Horribly! A-A-All the weeks you spent teaching me, I-I-I had the chance to show it off and I blew it! I know you're angry at me and you have every-"

"Bernadetta," Byleth swiftly, firmly, yet calmly boomed. His hand reached out, resting on her left shoulder. Hesitantly, she lifted her heard up, revealing the tears that had begun to gather in her eyes. "It's okay."

Her lips parted as if she couldn't believe his words. She searched him for deceit, waited for a hand to rise then cruelly fall upon her. Byleth was happy to prove her wrong.

His room had a table in the center room large enough to sit two people; it was put to use despite his initial belief that only the desk on the right side would be needed. He and Bernadetta sat across from each other. The latter had shed a few tears, but the onrush that may have seemed imminent had been stimmed.

"I…I really didn't want to come back here, and coming back, seeing my father, it just…rattled me more. No, it terrified me to be honest. It still does."

"He still terrifies you." Byleth quietly corrected, to which she nodded in confirmation. "Bernadetta-"

"Even though he wasn't there, I could still feel him watching me! Judging me! Calling me the failure that he always did!"

"You're not a failure, Bernadetta." He argued.

"Yes, I am! I had a chance to show that I've improved just a little bit and I blew it! Completely! You and Mr. Kofler taught me archery! Both of you have praised me, and I lost my nerve!" Her hands clawed at the side of her head as she brought it low. "I thought I could do this, Professor, b-b-but I-"

"You can do it, Bernadetta." One a simple hand, he reached out and stopped the rolling boulder. Her head rose allowing him to see the flow of tears that threatened to fall from her eyes had also been halted. "You believed you couldn't do several things, including fighting bandits. You did. You believed you couldn't run several laps around the mountains. You were able to."

Her surprise turned to gloomy depression. "I still wasn't able to run as many laps as you originally set."

"No, but you still tried." Byleth genuinely comforted. "One day, you will be able to run a complete set of laps. I'll stay with you until you do."

"Um…don't you mean you'll keep on me until I do?" She seemingly corrected. He gave her the best smile he could muster. Evidently, it was enough as Bernadetta's frown turned into a relieved and even humorous smile. He felt her squeeze his hand back. "The fact you've kept on me without crushing me has helped me though. I…I've…that kind of encouragement isn't something I'm used to."

"I know that I have to push you, I'm just trying not to push you hard enough you break more so than you already have." He didn't say that he wanted to avoid breaking her anymore than her father had already done. The less he could bring him up, the better he felt this conversation would go.

"There's a part of me wishes you wouldn't push me, that you'd just…give up on me. L-L-Like my father has." She confessed in a whisper. A moment later her eyes twinkled with a spark of determination. It went with another squeeze of her hand. "You refuse to give up on me…and…I…I don't know why, but I…it gives me just a little spark. I-I…I want to…I want to prove you right. You…"

"Bernadetta," Byleth called. "More than that, I'd like it if you could do it for yourself more so than me. I'd be proud of you, but I want you to be able to stand up for yourself." His left hand fell atop their interjoined ones. "I'd be fine with either one, which I think will one day happen."

"You…really believe it'll happen?" The purple-haired girl questioned. "I-I mean like really?"

Byleth would have liked to believe he was still smiling. "Really, and I promise I'll do my best to help."

New tears started to form within her eyes. Byleth was confident that they weren't tears of despair, not this time.

A sniffle tumbled through the air before Bernadetta regained more of her composure. "T-T-Thank you, Professor Eisner. Thanks for…thanks for talking to me. Thank you for…having faith in a person like me. I promise, tomorrow I'll do my best! E-E-Even if I mess up. W-W-Which I hope that I won't. F-F-For y-y-your s-s-sake a-a-and everyone else's!"

"That's all I'm asking for." Byleth said withdrawing his hands. He felt like he did what he needed to do for the younger archer as both her teacher, her commander, and as a comrade. After this, he had a feeling she was going to be able to get to sleep; he certainly hoped so.

Bernadetta stood straight up, resolution rolling off her every pore. It was a stark contrast to how she entered; Byleth took it as proof of a job well done.

Once he was alone, he moved to blow out the candle providing his room with illumination only to pause at the last second. "Sothis?" he verbally called. To his surprise, disappointment, and slight relief, he heard the familiar sound of soft snoring. With no one to see him, he let out a humorous chuckle. "Alright then, good night. We'll talk in the morning then." He blew out the candle then made his way over to bed.

Sleep came fast and without issue.

---

If everything went well, they'd be able to make it back to Garreg Mach in time for dinner. Byleth knew that thought was at least somewhat appealing to some, such as Caspar. It was still an optimistic bet.

A handful of clouds drifted over the sky, at times temporarily blocking out the sun. Perhaps thanks to the barren landscape, a pleasant spring wind seemed hotter than usual. That somewhat hot breeze had been felt on their way down to Zellerfeld. There'd been a few more clouds in the sky yesterday, perhaps keeping the heat at bay. Now, as their party made their return trip, that element was no longer in play. In its place was a new one-the cargo that they were now carrying.

At first glance, the five-by-five box seemingly wasn't all that impressive. Sure, the padlocks that kept it locked looked sturdy, but a sturdier blow could probably break it. A lock pick could also try their hand at picking the lock. Both attempts would be meant with firm resistance curtesy of the actual security that the box possessed.

Anyone with a lick of magical awareness would be able to see the magical energy that coated the box. It floated around the box like a veil of mist, pure magical energy that was invisible to the naked eye.

Byleth had made one look back at the box as it was loaded up into the carriage before they departed from Zellerfeld. It'd been decided they'd leave the city just a little after the crack of dawn. They'd have light for their trip and plenty of time to use it. Neither he, his students, or the Adrestian forces they were with had any intention of being out here when night fell. Of course, that was still dependent on how well they handled whatever threats came their way.

To the naked eye, there were none in sight. Behind and ahead of them, the Lotec Trail was seemingly deserted.

Following it had changed the landscape from barren wasteland to rocky hilltops that rose and fell as the further one went. The landscape was barren with nothing but those hills providing rather dull scenery. It was precisely why Byleth had chosen to take this road back to Renpet; potential boredom was a small price to pay for the security that the landscape provided. All that said, he didn't let his guard down completely, and he told the rest of his party not to let their guard down, especially their eyes in the sky.

Enrico and his black wyvern kept a steady pace above them as they road forward. He and made up a squadron of six wyvern riders that kept watch over them from the sky. With them as their sentinels, surprise attacks seemed all but impossible. Granted, that went for attacks coming from the air or the sides, not the ground.

Several times Byleth looked at the ground they were walking upon. The possibility of a subterranean assault had crossed his mind.

"W-W-What? Y-You're seriously considering the possibility of someone digging up through the earth to get at us?" Kofler stammered in shock.

As always, Byleth maintained his seriousness as he nodded. "Earth magic exists in Adrestia, right?"

"Well, yes. It does, but frankly, it's kind of uncommon."

"Uncommon, but it still exists, so we must take it as a possibility. Are there any mages skilled in detecting seismic vibrations?"

"We've got a few sorcerers. Heard that they've actually been studying the craft. I don't know how far along they are, but they should be good enough for this."

Two such mages sat in the carriage, hidden away by the bonnet. Neither spoke a word as their focus was, as ordered, entirely on sensing any movement underground.

Eyes in the sky and ears to the ground, from the outside, it looked like they had every direction covered. Byleth knew they'd done their best, but he was still bracing for the possibility of something going wrong. Either on his end or Rhona's.

Far to the east rose a series of mountains. They were the same mountains they'd passed on Mansory Way; between it and Lotec Trail, the former was significantly riskier. The would-be thieves would be watching from the ledges as the caravan made their way back. Despite the opportunity, it was taken as a fact that they wouldn't get too reckless as their goal was to still away the cargo. Byleth was also confident that none of them wanted to risk damaging the Relics in any way. Not unless they were feeling suicidal. One could argue they were already there attempting such a stunt as stealing Hero's Relics.

Byleth knew criminals were cowardly and superstitious, but they could also be quite daring. Some of them prided themselves on it and even made careers out of it. He'd met quite a few of them in his life, and he'd been the one to end several of their careers, and lives.

"Professor Eisner? Do you sense anything?"

"I should be asking you that question, Ferdinand." Turning to his orange-haired student, he shot him an inquiring gaze. Ferdinand looked straight ahead while closing his eyes. His mind's eye opened open and he gazed upon the land as Byleth had.

A moment later he opened them, his concentrated face remaining unbroken. "No, like you, I won't be letting my guard down. This mission is undoubtedly more important than our previous one. Do you wonder if these group will be as well-equipped as those we encountered at the Red Canyon?"

"I consider it a possibility, especially since these bandits are being sent by a crime boss. Adrestia's strongest crime boss from what I've heard."

"He is a disgrace to Adrestia." Ferdinand said with clear disdain, albeit it was kept in moderation. Byleth suspected that he knew a little more about this Octavio Ottosen. Given what he'd told him of his father, he doubted that it was something the young nobleman wanted to discuss. "Attempting to make off with Hero's Relics is…not out of his reach, as I know you've probably heard."

"Ottosen has his hand in several criminal enterprises, including human trafficking. I saw the look of dismay on Petra's face, so I'm assuming that includes Brigidins."

His stalwart expression crumbled as he blew a crack in it. Byleth wasn't happy about it, but he wanted to know a little more about Fόdlan, particularly the country most of his students hailed from. It was certainly proving to have its issues, although some weren't entirely unique to it. He'd been to several countries where human trafficking, slaving, was a thing, at times to the dismay of the populace.

"I can tell you're not a fan of Count Varley either." He began. "If he were to go after Ottosen, would you support him?"

"Absolutely." His response was immediate. After a quick look around, he continued, "I do not personally approve of the man, but…he has done decent work in the pursuit of justice in the courts." To his left he turned, looking back at Linhardt. Given his magical prowess, he rode close to the wagon. Behind his unchanged bored expression, he was wound just as tightly as the rest of them. "I personally have no stake in this growing dispute between him and House Hevring, I just hope it can be resolved without disruption to the country's justice system. Even my father will only allow so much squabbling between them."

"They'll keep at it until one comes out the victor, either that or they're succeeded by their heirs. That'd be one way for this to end." Was Byleth's comment on the discontent between the two. "It'd probably be inglorious, but it'd be a peaceful end to it."

"Professor, pardon me, but it almost sounds like you're proposing a no-win solution for both sides." Curious, he looked back at Linhardt, and then Bernadetta who rode behind the wagon. Two quivers of arrows lay attached to her horse's saddle while one was attached to her back. The same went for several of the other archers, including Captain Kofler himself. "To be fair…Bernadetta doesn't seem that interested in the affairs of criminal justice herself. Or inheriting her father's position. Linhardt doesn't either."

Both were opposite of Ferdinand in quite a few ways, thus explaining the somewhat disappointed tone of his voice. While Bernadetta's relationship with her father was poor, it was still quite different from the one that existed between Ferdinand and his.

That was a common thread that Byleth had noticed. It seemed only he, Edelgard, and Hubert possessed some drive to succeeded their parents in their positions. That number was pumped up to four counting Petra, who while not Adrestian, still looked toward succeeding her deceased father as king, and her grandfather who reigned under Adrestia's control.

"Ferdinand," Byleth called. "Does your…family also possess a Hero's Relic?"

"No, Professor. As you know, our Crest was gifted to us from Saint Cichol himself, yet there are no Relic weapons attributed him. That said, there are Sacred Weapons he wielded." The younger male answered.

His curiosity was most definitely piqued. "Sacred Weapons?"

A smile broke along Ferdinand's face. Even he seemed happy the conversation was moving in a different direction. "In addition to the Hero's Relics, Fόdlan is home to another series of weapons, the Sacred Weapons. They were said to be forged by Saint Macuil and wielded by his fellow Saints in the War of Heroes."

Byleth felt a familiar and welcomed feeling racing through him. "Divine weapons forged by a saint for his fellow saints. Are they equal in power to Relics? Greater than them?"

"Equal, as they were forged by Saint Macuil, who was blessed with the goddess' power, then passed that blessing onto the weapons." Ferdinand answered. "Saint Seiros and Saint Cichol both possessed shields, the Might Shield of Seiros and the Ochain Shield. They could deflect all manner of blows, magical and physical. They even warded off attacks from the mighty Nemesis himself and the Sword of the Creator."

"The same sword that I've heard could cleave the top off a mountain? And even split a mountain in half. Interesting." Short but sweet laughter caused him to turn to his student. "What?" he questioned.

"It's just…your face is quite lively now in such a way I don't think any of us have seen. With your vast knowledge of weapons, I suppose it's no surprise that you're quite interested in them as well." His student explained.

Something resembling a chuckle fell from his lips. "You're absolutely right. Since I was little, I've always had a fascination with weapons. Suppose that came from helping with upkeep of them before I set foot on the battlefield to wield them myself. Hero's Relics and now Sacred Weapons, the more I hear about them, the more intrigued I am. The latter being forged by Saint Macuil is even more appealing, especially with his holiday coming up."

"Saint Macuil Day is a day of celebration for sorcerers and blacksmiths across Fόdlan. Though the latter are also celebrated on Saint Indech Day, Saint Macuil Day is seen more exclusively as theirs. It is said he crafted many magical items using his knowledge of smithery and the mystic arts. Zellerfeld has several statues erected of him, which I'm saddened we weren't able to visit; I have a feeling you would have liked to see them."

"I would have. The truth is I was looking forward to visiting Zellerfeld given its reputation as Adrestia's blacksmithing capital. Guess I'll have to come back on my own time." He was looking forward to that time, whenever it ended up being. "Ferdinand, what of the Sacred Weapons? Where are they? Did Saint Cichol pass his weapons down to your family?"

He shook his head. "No, none of the Saints did. Legend goes that they were all buried with them in their respective graves."

Byleth kept silent on the fact that it left his family, as well as the other noble families without divine weapons, including apparently Edelgard's own. Though there didn't seem to be some standing rule, it did strike him as odd. Particularly Caspar's family, who headed the empire's military, had no divine weapon to their name. Maybe it was just his prior experiences bleeding through into Fόdlan. Maybe he was just overthinking it.

"Professor Eisner, I…would you mind if I…asked you about…what happened before? With the Relics when you…reached out to touch them. How did you-"

"I have no idea, Ferdinand. You're just as much in the dark as I am." Just like that, one of the most pressing mysteries he had on his plat came back to the forefront of his mind. "Once we get back to the Monastery, I'm hoping I'll be able to find out a little more. Being the bearer of the Crest of Flames certainly seems like it's coming with some surprises."

"You sound like you're looking forward to them." The orange-topped teen noted.

"…Maybe a little bit." He admitted.

---

Mansory Way…

Edelgard almost wished that the thieves would hurry up and attack. It would save her the boredom of waiting. She knew they were there as did everyone else. She could only imagine what Caspar was like, probably a bomb with a lit fuse waiting to go off. Hubert had mused how fortunate they were that he was in the Professor's group instead of theirs.

When they'd been divided into groups, Edelgard had immediately caught onto what the Professor had been thinking. He took Caspar, Bernadetta, Linhardt, and Ferdinand with him. The former three had ability, but they were sorely needing refinement. She'd say that Ferdinand was the exception; he was also a skilled horseman, meaning the more open expense of the Lotec Trail would benefit him more than it would their current path. While several feet wide, they were still overshadowed on both sides by towering canyon walls. That's undoubtedly where the bandits lay in wait.

Overall, she was pleased with her group. Dorothea, Petra, and of course Hubert himself, who kept pace beside her.

"Lady Edelgard," spoke the man himself in a hushed tone. "Are you perhaps still thinking of yesterday? Of the reaction of the Relics with the Professor?"

They hadn't had much time to talk about-they were both still attempting to wrap their minds around what they'd seen like everyone else. The red glow of the Crest Stones emitted as Professor Eisner approached them. It was unlike anything Edelgard had ever seen, and she'd grown up around magic. She didn't believe she'd be left at a loss for words, but the sight had left her for such.

"It's been on my mind. It was in fact one of my last thoughts before going to sleep. I must say, it was actually somewhat…mystifying, Hubert." She answered. Hubert gave no indication it'd been the same for him, although Edelgard suspected it had been. Her loyal retainer was far from being surprised, and their new professor had certainly surprised them with his capabilities. "He and I share the same power, and yet…"

"You don't believe the Relics would have reacted such a way in your presence?"

"Hubert, I've been around Hero's Relics before, and that's never happened." Her purple eyes did a quick sweep around them. Talking about this in such an open space wasn't ideal, but it seemed this conversation couldn't wait until they got back to the Monastery. Luckily, they weren't strangers to these quiet conversations. They just had to be careful with the famous Ice Queen so close. "We both know how incredibly rare the Crest of Flames is. The Professor's…his is different from mine somehow."

"It's a question of how he has it in the first place. Could he possibly be a descendant of the Liberation King?" The sorcerer offered.

Edelgard's head lowered. "I…wouldn't roll it out. Him being such would justify the Archbishop's interest in him. That woman has many secrets."

"…And here we are adding to her arsenal." The whisper was incredibly low, as it needed to be.

She dared not look in the direction of their group's leader, the woman widely heralded as the greatest ice mage in Fόdlan. Personally, Edelgard had never exactly been a fan of ice-fire had been her affinity. That said, she could recognize and respect magical prowess, and Rhona Margot Dynes certainly had that. She also had quite a troublesome ability that made it hard to get close to her or be around her. "We do what we must. At least we know one, or two, other tricks she'll have in her arsenal." Nervousness gnawed at her, eventually leading her to look to her right. Thankfully, the redheaded sorceress appeared none the wiser, seemingly engaged in conversation with another knight.

Or so it seemed.

Hubert's gaze was impassive, but she knew he'd looked in her direction as well. He'd done so without any hostility, less it would have been sensed by the woman. She was practically a natural counter to him. Edelgard would have liked to believe that her existence kept her aid on his toes, forced him to improve. Hubert was good, but they both knew for what lay ahead he was going to have to get better.

A time might come when he and Rhona would come to blows. Knowing him, he'd try to end her as swiftly as possible, before she could react. It was much preferable to a drawn-out fight.

Knowing Hubert, he'd have liked nothing more than to kill her now, on this very mission. Edelgard wasn't exactly against the idea, but its odds of success were so abysmal it was to be treated more as a joke than anything. If another mission came, one more serious…one where they could…

Far in the corners of her mind, she pondered if she could take Rhona in a fight herself. Not as the leader of the Black Eagles House, but as her alternate persona. The Flame Emperor against the Ice Queen, what a fight that would have been. It would be a fight that Edelgard would try with every ounce of her being to win-the future of Fόdlan she dreamed of would depend on it. A future of change, hope, and self-determination.

She'd bring it about, even if she had to go through a wall of ice to do it. No, especially if she had go through a wall of ice. It was the element of stagnation, which she despised.

"Hubert, if possible, we may be right to do something about Ottosen now while we can."

The smirk that grew on his face spoke of his agreement. "I fully agreed, your majesty. Luckily, I have a plan in place to…deal with him."

"Actually, I believe he…might be of some use. For a time." His brow temporarily rose in shock. Edelgard had to admit, she didn't like it, but considering who she'd already gotten in bed with…well, at least Ottosen wasn't as dastardly as Those Who Slither in the Dark. Besides, it might be better to make use of him before they could. She loathed how his empire had been able to grow with the disposition of her father, but Edelgard believed she could turn that around somehow. A part of her almost felt something resembling excitement at the prospect. "Tag one of them." Edelgard whispered to her attendant. "I don't care which one, just do it."

He knew whoever he tagged had to be left alive so they could return to his master. With any luck, he'd lead them back to one of Ottosen's hideaways. "It will be-"

"Contact to the northwest!" Rhona shouted.

"My, my, there's my cue." Quietly chuckled the black-haired mage.

Well…isn't that quite a coincidence. Edelgard mused. She had a strenuous relationship with patience, so she welcomed this new development with open arms. And her ready steel axe.

---

And that, dear readers, is the official tenth chapter of this story. I'm sorry it took another two months to get this chapter out. I really wanted to get this chapter out so I could show the character interactions that took place this chapter, namely between Jeralt and Caden and Byleth and Bernadetta. Oh, and I also wanted to include Enrico's introduction too, particularly when I looked where I left off last chapter. As you can probably guess, he's a knight with an interesting past and some old connections he's no afraid to pull on. Another example of how the Knights of Seiros are a varied bunch which I always liked.

After the talk Rhea and Gilah had in the previous chapter, I immediately thought of Jeralt getting to have a talk with someone the following chapter. Caden immediately popped into my mind since he's playing something of a secondary role during this point in the story, with a bigger role coming up. Let me reiterate what I said last chapter, I'm not painting Jeralt as a bad parent, but he is realizing that he's made some mistakes along the way now that he's back in a place he left behind so long ago with his son. This one won't be the first introspection he does. Another thing I want to show is the confidence he has in his son given the battles that await him. A more thorough yet balanced view of him that I feel the game showed to an extent.

I hope I installed some more intrigue in Caden this chapter since I got to write some more of him. He and Jeralt were established as foils this chapter, but they're still respectful to one another.

Though his appearance was (thankfully) brief, I wanted to Count Varley to have a bit of a looming effect on this chapter, especially Bernadetta. All it took was seeing and hearing him to break her down, but Byleth was there to help build her back up. How much that worked will be shown next chapter when the Black Eagles must protect their precious cargo. I've been wanting to write it for a while.

I really did want to explore Zellerfeld so more this chapter, but looking at the story progression I realized some sight seeing couldn't be squeezed in. As Byleth said, it'll have to wait for another time, preferable minus a certain someone. On the topic of Zellerfeld, its name comes from Clausthal-Zellerfeld, a real town in Germany that was once known for its mining. Some of the exhausted mines are now museums and some of the old railways serve as tourist attractions.

Su boreği is a Turkish pastry dish literally meaning "water borek

The third and final chapter of this three-parter should be up in about two weeks or so, be on the look out for it! Until then, stay safe, readers!