'The new professor is charging at the Blue Lions... by himself?!' Lysithea breathed.
Gasps and cries erupted across the observation platform.
'Oh my,' Mercedes said, clutching her pendant.
'Okay, that just confirms how foolish the professor is. He has no chance of victory against three,' Lorenz said, but even his voice sounded dry.
'Is he serious? He'll get demolished,' Ingrid said.
'Oh man if that guy pulls it off, he should get a massive rib-eye steak as a reward!' Raphael boomed.
'He can do it. Go, Professor!' Dorothea shouted, pumping her fist into the air.
'Go!' Petra shouted.
Leonie, who sat nearby, watched, wide-eyed. Caspar's mouth hung open. Edelgard rose to her feet.
'He is certainly daring,' Linhardt said, using his uniform, as a hood from the rain. 'Better him than me.'
Hubert was silent, as were Rhea and Seteth. Moira the nurse, who'd been checking Marianne for any injuries, now leaned forward on the spectating banister, her eyes wide.
'Ahah!' Catherine cried, slapping her leg. 'That kid has spunk, I'll give him that. This is where it really spices up!'
'What a daring young fellow...' Alois said blinking. He turned his head right.
The man beside him, who'd spent the entire day looking ready to kill anyone who got too close, now bore an expression Alois hadn't seen in many years.
His captain's mouth was spread in a wide grin and his eyes were alight.
'Let's go kid,' Jeralt muttered.
The new professor, or the "Ashen Demon", was a swordsman. That suited Felix perfectly, for that was also what he was. He'd trained with countless knights and lords, as well as his brother and father ever since he was young. He'd honed his skills over the years to the point where almost no one could beat him in a duel, his own father included. He craved a challenge, however, and that's why he'd at first been excited by the prospect of Byleth becoming a professor, and then bitterly disappointed to watch him fall to Caspar in the training ground. It'd felt like the man had duped him into believing that he was a foe worthy of his skill.
But things had changed since then. Byleth now charged towards him in the mock battle, having supposedly been the one to eliminate almost everyone else. That gave Felix hope and excited him.
The distance between him and Byleth lessened. He raised his blade and lunged.
The crowd on the observation point had cheered and roared when Byleth had emerged from the trees, but when the new professor clashed with Felix, they all fell silent. Lorenz, who'd been continuing his battle-commentary on how Byleth stood no chance, stopped mid-sentence. Linhardt's eyes sprung wide. Dorothea and Ingrid froze and a drop of saliva rolled down Annette's chin. Hubert held his breath, Raphael dropped his food and a chill rushed down Edelgard's spine. Flayn brought her hands to her mouth and Moira gripped the observation banister so hard that her knuckles turned white. Seteth and Rhea froze.
Jeralt continued to grin.
Sylvain was afraid.
He'd always joked that he was stronger than Felix, much to his old friend's annoyance. In truth, however, he knew that Felix outclassed him in combat and perhaps always would, he'd never even witnessed him losing a duel. He was a moody man, Felix, but Sylvain knew that his friend deserved all the praise he received for his swordsmanship. There was no one the man couldn't match in a fight. Sylvain believed that with his heart and soul.
Until now.
He watched as Felix, the man he believed to be one of Fódlan's finest swordsmen, was made to look like a child, made to look entirely out of his depth. In a matter of moments, Felix was disarmed. The new professor grabbed him and smashed him to the ground. Felix landed with a sickening thump and didn't move. Byleth looked up at him and Sylvain choked. The man tore towards him like a hungry wolf and Sylvain let out something close to a yelp. He raised his lance, drawing back his lips in utter terror, and swung.
The only good part about what happened next was that it was quick. His lance was jerked from him and was snapped in half. Splinters sprinkled his face. The horrible "crunch" made him feel light-headed. Then he felt something hard sink into his stomach. His face smacked into the long grass, and everything went black. His stomach was on fire. He heard shouting, but soon everything else was drowned out by his breakfast forcing its way back up his throat. He lurched.
'Professor, hit him! Even if you hit me it does not mat'-
Byleth sprung on Dimitri before he could finish his sentence. The professor struck him with a barrage of ferocious swipes that made Dimitri's entire body shake. Each blow of Byleth's sword against his lance created an ear-splitting crack. The only thing that was stopping him from falling immediately was his strength, his crest's strength.
But not even that wouldn't be enough. He knew it.
'Prof'-
Byleth kicked him off his feet. Dimitri was in the air and for a moment, everything seemed to go in slow motion. Byleth thrust his arm downward and he felt the dull thud of the man's sword pelting his stomach, forcing the air from his lungs. He crashed to the ground and curled over.
Byleth ripped his sash off and threw himself in the direction of the final opponent left standing. Hanneman raised his hand and a glowing red circle formed in front of him.