"You can stay the night here, if you want to."

With a long-suffering sigh, Arthur turned to look behind his shoulder. With an audible gasp from at least one of their number, about half a dozen students tucked themselves into hiding, some less effectively than others.

"Myranda, crawl left! He can see you!"

"Surely not! I am very small..."

"Not small enough, you fool! Crawl left... no, your other left!"

Cursing his crest-induced oversensitive hearing, Arthur shook his head and turned back to face Byleth, who was holding the door to her quarters open for him. "I don't think that's a good idea, Ms. Eisner."

"Are you sure?" The girl looked concerned, and not at all aware of what others might think of her inviting a man into her personal space. "The monastery can get cold in the evenings and late at night. As a matter of fact, I had prepared a spare cot your size with this situation in mind."

She made for a tempting offer, but Arthur knew better than to accept it. "Yeah, I'm sure. Don't forget, you got a reputation to keep here. And now that I'm probably stuck here…"

"What's he doing?"

"I don't know! They're just… erm, talking?"

"Isn't she going to invite him in?"

The outlaw felt like smashing his head against the nearby post. He feared Byleth would never find a suitor with him around. "…so do I. You have a nice evening, miss. I'll see you tomorrow."

Turning around and striding off, Arthur wandered into the monastery grounds. He lamented that this day's unexpected twists and turns had kept him from revealing what he knew to Byleth about the circumstances behind her birth, as well as Jeralt's suspicions about Rhea – that the enigmatic archbishop had something nefarious planned for his daughter. He hoped that the following day would provide them with the opportunity for a quiet talk, but for now, he resolved to find somewhere in this gilded prison where he could crawl into and stay out of sight until dawn.

"Arthur! You're alive!"

Grumbling at the fact that the day was apparently not done with him yet, Arthur breathed out, wiped the grumpy look on his face, and turned just in time for a pink blur to drive the breath from his lungs with a spine-crushing hug. "Hrrgh! Ough, Hilda…!"

"Ohh, I just knew you'd pull through!" Hilda seemed oblivious to Arthur's gasps of pain as she tightened her hold around his midsection. "It's going to take more than just a bunch of barbarians to put a hero like you down!"

"How 'bout a girl… who could, argh, squash rocks into gravel with her arms?"

"What? Oh, shit! Sorry, sorry, sorrymybad!"

Arthur blew a sigh of relief as the young lady released him. He still felt tender all over from his bout with Catherine, but now, he felt like he had a valid excuse to check himself into an infirmary bed and spend the night there. "Damn… I get that it's been a while since last we spoke, and all, but let's not do that again, okay?"

"Sorry…"

"Heh, alright, you're fine. Good to see you too, kid."

Hilda perked right back up at that. "So… what a day, huh? It's not often I come back from my classes and hear chatter about this tall, rugged, fashionably-dressed foreigner being spotted wandering the monastery all the sudden. I kinda had to go for a walk and hope I could see him for myself, to check if he's as handsome and strapping as they say." She smiled coyly, eyes shining mischievously in the firelight. "I don't suppose you've seen him around?"

"No, but I reckon he'd probably spend the night sitting on a bench like a sad drunk and freeze to death in the middle of the night." Arthur drawled. "But seriously, you know a spot 'round here where I could stay outta sight till morning?"

Her playful attitude vanished immediately. "Wait, you mean you don't have a place to stay the night? How come? I'm sure Byleth would be happy to—"

"That ain't an option, kid." The outlaw held up a palm. "Let's just say I ain't lookin' to give the busybodies in this goddamn place more shit to wag their chins about."

"Ah. Say no more." Hilda nodded knowingly. "A bit of a shame, speaking as one of the local busybodies myself, but I understand."

Arthur grimaced. "Hilda…"

She laughed at the unamused look on his face. "Well, hero, it just so happens that I do know a place where you can duck down for the rest of the night, but you'll have to promise not to be a boring, cranky old man once we get there."

"Hm. That's a pretty tall ask."

"All I'm asking is that you smile more often and don't scare everyone off! Pretty simple, eh? It's either that, or I'll leave you here and let you cool off until you stop being such a grump. What do you say?"

Resigning himself to the fact that he would be interacting with teenagers and young adults more often than not, Arthur soon found himself trailing after the young lady as she led him north of the monastery, past a few other students on their way back to their dwellings and some knights on patrol.

"You know, there's another bit of gossip I heard about you…"

"Don't you kids got 'nything better to do than to poke your noses in the business of other folks?"

"That's such an old man thing to say, and you're not even that old. Anyway, I was having dinner when I overheard a group of students from the Empire jabbering about how you "stole" a crest somehow, like that's even possible. I thought to myself, that can't be true, right? If you were born with a crest, you'd have manifested it long ago. Besides, I don't think it's even possible for foreigners to get crests, unless Seiros and the Four Saints plus the Ten Elites did some travelling and didn't bother to tell—"

Arthur grunted. "Alright, miss, let me stop you right there. I didn't steal no goddamn crest… I ain't done stolen nothing since I wound up in this continent of yours and started getting involved in shit I've no business being in."

"I know, right? I mean, how can you even steal bloo—"

"Damn it, girl, let me finish," He sighed. "However that thing got into my body, I sure as hell didn't steal it."

Hilda did a double take. "Wh-what? You mean…"

"Yes. I got this damn crest." The man said, feeling it pointless to hide the fact after Catherine's loud outburst in the middle of a crowded area. "The, uh, "major crest of Seiros". I dunno how, so don't even ask. I just do."

Hilda looked startled for a moment, until she started giggling. "And here I thought even Ferdinand has a better sense of humour than you do. That serious look on your face almost makes me believe… almost… umm, y-you're not joking?" She withered under his sombre gaze. "You're not joking."

"I appreciate a good laugh, but I know when's the right time to be crackin' jokes, miss." Arthur said. "This ain't one of those times."

"Oh. Well…" She was quiet for some time. "I know you said I shouldn't ask, but, um, do you want to talk about it?"

The outlaw took a breath. "Thanks, but really, let's not. Maybe when I'm in a better mood."

Hilda gave a brief nod, "No worries. I'd say some uplifting company would do you good, but I know what you really need is a stiff drink. Lucky for you, I keep a stash of Vestan brandy in the Golden Deer chapter-keep."

"Brandy? Well, shit, let's pick up the pace, then."

With that said, Hilda guided Arthur inside another one of the structures built inside the monastery compound. This one seemed to be more regularly patrolled by knights compared to other areas, with the gigantic, yellow banner of a buck with an impressive set of antlers standing proudly in front of a two-tone background.

Inside, Arthur paid no mind to the curious looks from the students they came as he proceeded further along the building with his companion. It wasn't long before one such student stopped them in their tracks by raising his hand and anxiously addressing Hilda.

"Umm, Lady Hilda? Is this… is this a bad time to talk? You seem to have brought company over…"

Arthur looked down, finding a meek-looking young man with a pair of large, circular glasses on his face. Realising that he had the outlaw's gaze on him, the boy seemed to shrink further into the wall he was leaning against as he tried his best to avoid making eye contact with their one-eyed visitor.

"What did I tell you about calling me that, Ignatz? I'm just Hilda." The girl said, shaking her head. "What's the matter, anyway? You look like you've seen a ghost."

"I, um… it's about Claude. No one has seen him in any of his classes, and none of us saw him at all today. It's like he… well, it's as if he vanished."

"Saints, that's so like him." Hilda frowned, looking annoyed. "Always trying to act all aloof and mysterious… it's starting to look less and less attractive. At this point, I might actually prefer someone else to be our house head if he keeps leaving us to pick up his slack. He hasn't done anything to help us complete those group projects we have due next moon, and it's starting to make me worry."

The other student, Ignatz, laughed nervously. "Yes, but… I don't think… um, you've done anything to help out, either. Maybe you can…"

"What? I'll have you know that I've been contributing lots! If not for my moral support, we wouldn't have made as much prog—"

Arthur coughed into a fist, causing Hilda to tense up in surprise.

"Ehh, sorry, Arthur. I totally forgot you were there. Hehe, won't happen again." The girl took a breath before nodding at Ignatz. "I know I haven't been doing much of the practical stuff like you and the others have, but I promise to do my part. I'm still having trouble adjusting to life here, you know. I'm sure you can relate… right?"

"Oh, uh… that's… that's alright, then, La— um, Hilda." The young man pushed his glasses up his nose, smiling like he was trying to look as inoffensive as possible. "I'm sorry if I kind of implied…"

"No, no, it's no big deal." Hilda smiled back, like a predator closing in on her prey. "I'm sure you can make it up to me in some way, sooner if not later."

An expression of pure relief appeared on Ignatz's face. "I am… glad to hear that. Please, don't let me get in your way, then."

"Thank you, Ignatz!" Hilda said to the boy in a sing-song voice. "Alright! Let me show you where you can put your feet up, Mr. Morgan. And if you're not feeling tired, I'll be happy to give you a little tour of our chapter-keep."

Arthur grumbled. "I'll think about it. Lead on."

The lounge was a quaint-looking thing, like something out of a medieval painting, except without the pretentious-looking characters striking their weird poses. It reminded Arthur of being inside the Braithwaite mansion, except that there was no wretched shrew and her belligerent sons in sight… only a bunch of young people who he recognised except for one.

"Christ, man, you're a hard bastard to kill, did you know that?" Corporal Sturges was the first in the room to greet Arthur, smiling ear-to-ear and showing off his impressive array of crooked teeth. He looked like a different young man in the uniform of a student, though his eyes still looked as dull and lifeless as the outlaw last saw them. "What brought you here? You're the last man I expected to come out that door, you know."

"I was just lookin' for somewhere to sit and keep my head down for the night. Just pretend I ain't here." The man put up his own smile as he examined the former soldier. "Decided to go back to school, huh?"

"Eh, it's only for a year. I don't see any way I can go back to England… at least not yet. So, I figured I might as well learn all I can about Fódlan while I'm here. It's an interestin' place, nothing quite like it back where we're from." Victor said, though the longing in his tone gave away his desire to go home, more than anything. "And the monastery ain't a bad place to be, considerin' how I ended up here. The people here have been welcoming too, especially Lysithea and that Wilhelm fellow over in the Black Eagles side of the compound."

"Those two, really?" Hilda made a show of folding her arms and rolling her eyes. "Don't tell me you prefer those boring book-lovers over me?"

Victor scratched the back of his head. "Ahh, I suppose you're alright, milady. And I appreciate those drinks you send my way from time to time. It's just that… well, you remind me of Goneril, and I don't exactly have good memories of that blasted shithole. Uh, no offence."

"Offence very much taken, Mr. Sturges. No more free booze for you… you big meanie."

"Damn. Shoulda kept me bloody mouth shut."

It was then that Shez made his way over to them from the other side of the room. "For what it's worth, I think Hilda's the Golden Deer who's the most fun to be around. Some of the others here are… eugh." He pulled a face, deliberately side-eyeing another student who was reclining on a lounge chair nearby and daintily drinking his tea.

"Rest assured, mercenary, the feeling is quite mutual." The student didn't bother to look their way. He was a pale-skinned young man with a freshly-plucked red rose pinned to the front of his uniform, with glistening hair in a shade darker than Shez's, cut into the shape of an angular bowl that looked ridiculous, in Arthur's opinion. "Not including that bit about Lady Hilda being the only tolerable Deer, of course. Except for you and Claude, the others make for fairly reasonable company… even the commoners."

"Nobles like you are the reason the common folk are losing faith in us." Another student in the room, one that Arthur was surprised to discover was none other than the late General Wilhelmina Fischer's son, Hans Fischer, tutted disapprovingly. The boy's student uniform seemed to incorporate elements of his previous uniform as a junior officer of the Locket's garrison. "When war calls the Alliance into action again, they will back those who treat them like people, not cattle."

"Oh, spare me the lecture, lord castellan." The young lord, apparently called Lorenz, still couldn't be bothered looking away from his tea. "My role is to lead my subjects, and their role is to obey. If only they were as obedient as cattle, perhaps the Alliance wouldn't be fighting amongst itself every few years or so."

"That is the nobility's doing. They couldn't keep to themselves, so they dig up ancient claims and make up new ones to justify attacking their neighbours."

"Don't generalise. House Gloucester has kept to itself for hundreds of years. We only make war to defend ourselves from the aggression of the neighbouring lords."

As the two boys started to argue, Victor looked to Shez, to Hilda, then to Arthur before shrugging. "This always happens every night between those two, so don't mind them. I'm surprised they haven't sorted it out yet by getting a room and buggering each other bloody."

Shez looked confused for a moment. "Buggering? That's one of those, um, English words for "beating the crap out of each other", right?"

Victor smirked.

"R-right?"

Hilda laughed, "He's always saying all those funny words. He's probably just messing with us." She turned on her heel to face Victor as though making to ask the soldier if the word actually meant something, when she gasped and made a shrill, excitable noise. "By all the saints... Marianne! What did you do to your hair?!"

Arthur had seen Marianne as soon as he entered the lounge, finding the girl sitting on her own with her eyes closed as though resting or in prayer. With Hilda's shrill outburst and the mention of her name, the young lady's eyes opened. "Umm, I didn't do anything, in particular… Mr. Morgan did this for me earlier in the day, and— oh! Arthur? What are you..."

"Evening, miss." Arthur tipped his hat to her in greeting. "Don't let me distract you, I'm only here for the night."

"Wait, wait, hold on a second!" Arthur looked down to find Hilda quickly waving her hands in front of her face to get his attention. "You did Marianne's hair? And she actually... let you?"

"Calm down, it ain't that big of a deal." Arthur grumbled.

"Are you kidding? That's one of the sweetest things you can do for a girl." She then turned to the other girl, a devious smirk worming its way into her lips. "And the fact that she let you do it means she must really care for you! Isn't that right, Marianne?"

The other girl sank into her seat and covered her face with a nearby book. "Hilda! Please don't embarrass me!"

Arthur just shook his head. "Girl, you promised there'd be something to drink 'round here. I'll sit down and be a good guest, but you better not hold out on me, ya hear?"

"Oh, ye of little faith. Hilda Goneril always delivers! Why don't you take that seat next to Marianne, so you two can catch up?"

Marianne could only let out a muffled cry into her book in palpable mortification.

...

"Well then, how flattering it is to see that my library is comfortable enough to—"

Ferdinand awoke to rasping of a weapon being cleared from its sheathe, and the sight of an old man staring back at him with wide, terrified eyes, his mouth left hanging open in the middle of his sentence.

"Lord Ferdinand! Stand down!"

As he came to his senses, the young lord looked down and realised he had drawn his sword and very nearly beheaded the poor librarian with it. As horror and shame dawned on him, Ferdinand retracted his weapon, letting his unintentional victim stumble backwards, a hand pressing against the thin cut the blade had made on the skin of his neck. "By the saints, I do not know what came over me. I am dreadfully sorry, Tomas, I had thought you were… w-well…"

"An Almyran?"

Ferdinand glanced behind the pale-faced librarian, finding not just Princess Edelgard, but also her retainer, Lord Hubert von Vestra. He swallowed; he had a different foe in mind. "Yes, your highness… that is the case."

"Is that why you are also wearing armour, my lord?" Hubert said, a black brow arched inquisitively. "Or has your little adventure in the eastern fringes of the Alliance changed you in such a way that you only feel comfortable enough to sleep while encased in sheets of plate? Was seeking your glory in warfare a worthy endeavour, or perhaps you found the bloodshed and drudgery too terrifying and too exhausting for your liking?"

As the librarian mumbled out his excuses and took his leave, Ferdinand glared at the other young lord, not liking the taunting voice he used. "Do not presume to mock me, Lord Hubert. Do not forget, that could have been your neck at the edge of my blade."

"Hmph." Hubert did not seem intimidated in the slightest. If anything, he appeared amused. "And you would do well not underestimate me. I am not a withered, doddering simpleton like dear old Tomas."

"Take my word for it, my lord. I have killed far greater foes than you." Contemptuously placing his sword back in its scabbard, he then turned to Edelgard. "My lady, surely you must have already heard of what happened to my father in recent times."

The princess wore an expression of stately calm as she spoke. "We have only just recently received word, that Prime Minister Ludwig von Aegir has been grievously wounded from an assassination attempt by an unknown party, who was able to escape. The nature of his wounds is such that your father is unlikely to recover."

Ferdinand released a weary sigh. "An accurate summary, yes..." He said, knowing what Edelgard had so gracefully narrated was the furthest thing from accurate, except for the fact that his father may soon die. It ate away at him, to be forced to keep upholding the barefaced falsehood that Ludwig was the victim of an assassination attempt by an outsider, rather than a foolish, impulsive, rage-fuelled assault by that which he kept close to heart. "...though it leaves out a few other details."

"Such as?"

"I was there in the attempt, and I was also targeted by the assassin. Considering how she managed to slaughter her way through my father's guards and retainers, it would be foolish of me to not take precautions while this woman continues to elude justice."

Edelgard nodded, oblivious to Ferdinand's inner turmoil. "First of all, I am sorry to hear about your father."

There was the expected lack of sincerity in the princess' voice, and Ferdinand couldn't find it in himself to fault her for it. He doubted the daughter of the emperor would hold any respect for the treacherous prime minister responsible for depriving his own liege of most of his power and influence, as well as effectively seizing control of the Empire and ruling it from the shadows.

Had Edelgard only known just how much harm Ludwig had caused the realm and countless innocents across the continent, she would likely celebrate his upcoming demise as well.

"Going forth, you may rest easy in the knowledge that I'll do my utmost to ensure that you remain protected from any more attempts throughout the course of our stay here in Garreg Mach." The princess continued, only quirking a white brow when she noticed the face Ferdinand was pulling. "You may soon assume your father's place as duke, just as I may assume my place as emperor in the future. It would be unwise for me to let my potential vassal die to an assassin, you understand? Especially now, with all the chaos happening with the nobles back home."

"Yes," Ferdinand nodded sternly, having had resolved to stay alive just long enough to keep the fallout of his father's removal from power and inevitable demise from destroying the Empire… as well as to atone for his sins in Boramas. "Completely, your highness."

"Good." The princess seemed pleased. "Now, why don't we discuss the reason as to why you spent your first night in the monastery sleeping in the library, surrounded by a mountain of books and scrolls?"

Hubert smirked, "Are we not going to mention that he also seems to have spent the night with this young girl by his side?"

Ferdinand frowned. He looked behind his shoulder, finding Lysithea still on her seat, her arms splayed over their table as she rested her head against its surface. From the sound of her quiet breathing, she appeared to be still sound asleep despite the commotion with the librarian.

"Let us not." He was quick to say, taking care to lower his voice.

Hubert made a low, disdainful sound that resembled a chuckle. "Not going to sate our curiosity?"

"With respect, lord, what I do with my spare time and my choice of companions is none of your business." Ferdinand said, as he pushed his chair back under their table and stepped away. "Princess Edelgard, can we please talk elsewhere? I do not want to risk waking the lady up."

Edelgard looked faintly amused. "Well then, I certainly hope you display this amount of concern for your own housemates, because I'm sure this girl is no Black Eagle. But yes, I agree. Come, my lords, let us be away from this place."

Relieved, Ferdinand was happy to follow after the princess. On the way, he questioned her reasoning for seeking him out at such an early time in the morning, to which she responded by leading him out of the central building and into the main courtyard, revealing that Edelgard had likewise roused the entire Black Eagles house out of their beds, as evidenced by a few mussy heads and grumpy, heavy-eyed faces here and there.

"With the recent intake of students the previous day, every Black Eagle is now accounted for." Edelgard said as she stepped into the grass, joining some of the other students she rallied. "That said, before we embark on our very first training exercise together in about two weeks' time, I would like to know what each of us is capable of in a combat scenario."

"Do we have to do this now, your highness?" A student whom Ferdinand recognised as Linhardt von Hevring groused. "This early in the day, you'll find that I'm hardly capable of anything."

"I'll be the judge of that." Edelgard was quick to say. "Combat may not be your specialty, my lord, but your proficiency in white magic is..."

"This can't be happening, this can't be happening!" Ferdinand's attention was drawn to a small, lavender-haired shape huddled under one of the benches. With a sigh, he recognised it as Count Gregoire von Varley's reclusive and fearful daughter, Bernadetta. "They're here to kill me! I just know it! Goddess, please save me!"

"You have afraid of the killing, Bernadetta?" Ferdinand likewise recognised the future queen of Brigid, Princess Petra Macneary, from her peculiar appearance to her equally peculiar manner of speech. He was also painfully aware of her status as a political hostage, to ensure that Brigid remains subservient to the Empire. "If so, practice will help make less afraid. Killing becomes like chore, like hunting."

While Petra's words sounded encouraging enough to Ferdinand's ears despite her difficulty with Fódlanese, Bernadetta seemed to take their meaning in the opposite direction. "AAAH! She wants to hunt me! Someone PLEASE HELP!"

"Enough with the screeching and calm yourself, my lady. You have my word that no one is going to hunt and kill you... not here, at any rate." Hubert assured her, with zero success.

The student next to Linhardt put her palm over her mouth and made a show of yawning daintily. "Fine then, let's get this over with. Perhaps a bit of sport could get the blood running." With dark blonde hair styled in elaborate curls and piercing grey eyes, she looked every bit like the image of a young noblewoman, though the left side of her face was marred by a red birthmark. When she looked Ferdinand's way, the student smiled impishly. "Do go easy on the rest of us, my lord. None of us share your fondness for violent misadventures."

"I do." Mayu spoke up, giving Ferdinand a nod. She looked pleased to see he wasn't killed the previous night. "Let us show these children the extent of their weakness, Lord Ferdinand."

"Hey! Who are you calling a weak child?" Caspar von Bergliez was as hot-blooded in person as Ferdinand had heard of the younger lord. "I would've kicked your ass yesterday if not for your crest-bearing friend, Takano!"

"Caspar, if it wasn't for him, you probably won't be standing here with us." Another student whom Ferdinand didn't recognise, a young woman wearing a flat cap and a jacket with the top buttons undone, immediately caught Ferdinand's eye despite himself. "As for you, Mayu, don't forget — you owe me."

"Yes." Mayu nodded stoically. "Thank you, Arnault-san."

Wondering just what it was this Arnault girl did for his retainer, Ferdinand turned on his heel to face Edelgard and Hubert again. "Are we waiting on anyone else? If not, we should proceed."

"There is one other," The princess said. "Wilhelm Vinge, one of the older students in this academic year. A brilliant young man from a village called Remire, whose interests lie in masonry and siegeworks... but with a bit of a drinking problem. I believe his mother was a high-ranking priestess in the Western Church."

"Where is he now?"

Hubert sneered. "The fool staggered back into his dormitory wearing a distinctly alcoholic stench. He apparently spent the night drinking in Pilgrim's Landing." He made his sinister sound again. "One can only hope you have done something more productive with your time, lord."

Ignoring Hubert's attempts to needle him, Ferdinand adjusted the straps on his breastplate, unsheathed his sword half-way, checked the well-used blade, then sheathed it once more. "Let us move."

Despite Bernadetta protesting throughout the way and making pitiful attempts to escape, all the Black Eagles eventually made their way to the training grounds. Finding the area predictably deserted at this hour in the morning, Edelgard started preparing one of the yards for the activity she had in mind, whereupon she was soon joined by Hubert, Caspar and Petra, as well as Ferdinand and Mayu.

"Might I ask wherever did you find this retainer of yours, Lord Ferdinand?" The princess asked of him as they worked together. "I do not believe you could have stumbled upon her while fighting in Goneril."

Before answering her, Ferdinand looked to see that Edelgard had waited until Mayu had moved out of earshot before addressing him. "Perhaps… not in Goneril, your highness. She was being held captive by the Almyrans in one of their camps further east into Fódlan's Throat. It is likely that she hailed from a faraway nation that shares a border with Almyra."

Practice and Mayu's tutelage ensured that deception came more easily to Ferdinand these days. While he still couldn't lie to save his own life, but he became comfortable enough to bend the truth to conceal facts that he would rather not let others know, at least for the moment.

"Well, I see how she seems utterly loyal to you, then." Whether Edelgard suspected him of being unconvincing, she did not show it. "The house head for the Blue Lions, Prince Dimitri, happens to have his own foreign retainer whom he acquired in a not so dissimilar way. From what I've seen and heard, however, this retainer is a formidable and reliable comrade to have in battle. I can only hope Mayu is much the same."

Ferdinand almost laughed. "Your highness, Mayu is from a nation constantly embroiled in conflict against not just all of its neighbouring realms, but also its hostile environment. Indeed, she has been training to fight since she was a child, and has survived multiple encounters with foreign knights and northern marauders."

"Interesting. In that case, I see a bright future for her as either a soldier or a knight, preferably in service to the Empire. May I also ask how did she learn to speak our tongue? She seems remarkably well-spoken."

"Through several moons' worth of persistent tutoring, courtesy of myself and my other retainers during our campaign to the east, and my old tutors upon our return to Boramas."

"Indeed? Perhaps this means Lady Petra's mastery of Fódlanese is only a matter of time and patience."

"I have no doubt about it, your highness. If needed, she may count on my support as well."

Minutes later, and the yard was looking respectable enough for another duel much like the one Ferdinand had with General Holst Goneril, only wide and spacious enough for more combatants to participate in duels of their own.

"You may proceed to arm yourselves and put on your armour. We will leave your choice of sparring partners to you." Hubert announced on Edelgard's behalf. "Remember that you are here to show Princess Edelgard what you are capable of, so that she may understand how best to put your talents to use when the time comes for us to undertake our first training exercise, later in the moon."

Edelgard cleared her throat. "As this is only a test, please refrain from inflicting lasting injuries on your partners. Otherwise, I expect you to treat this exercise as one would a real combat scenario: you will fight with everything you have, in order to survive."

"Alright!" Caspar easily slipped into a well-used suit of training armour as though he had done it a hundred times before. Taking up dulled iron greataxe, the boy took a few experimental swings before taking a spot across to Mayu, who had done nothing but stand in place and examine the area while the others prepared themselves to fight. "It's time I prove I'm no weakling. Fight me, Ms. Takano!"

Mayu took one look at Caspar, scoffed, and started to move away from the blue-haired boy. "You." She pointed at Petra, who was testing the weight of her weapon: a billhook. "Try me."

Caspar sputtered in indignant fury. "Hey, where do you think you're going? Don't walk away from—"

Ferdinand walked into Caspar's path, his hand grasping at the handle of his sheathed blade. "You are not ready to challenge Mayu, Lord Caspar."

"Ugh, what's up with all these people standing in my way when I want to fight someone?" Caspar scowled as he widened his stance. "Whatever. Show me what you got, Aegir!"

Ferdinand sighed, not at all enthused at fighting the likes of Caspar. "En garde, I suppose."

In a painfully predictable move, Caspar bellowed his war cry as he charged Ferdinand, swinging his weapon like a drunken headsman. In response, Ferdinand stood his ground and waited until Caspar had drawn close, before unsheathing his blade and swiping his opponent's weapon from out of his grasp, all in a single motion.

"What the— whoa!" Caspar cried out as Ferdinand then proceeded to swing his boot out and strike him in the shin, causing him to tumble and fall flat on his face, his momentum turned against him. "…auugh."

After putting away his sword, Ferdinand strode over to his fallen adversary and reached out to help him up to stand, only to have his offer of aid crossly rebuffed as Caspar swatted his hand aside. "That was… argh, that was a fluke! Let's go again!"

"If you insist," Ferdinand said as he backed away, trying not to feel disappointed at how obvious the gap in skill and experience was between them. "But I am afraid this will only end the same way, lord."

Caspar growled as he picked up his weapon. "We'll see about that!" Once more, he broke into a run at his opponent. "Have at you!"

It was as though Caspar was an open book, the way Ferdinand read his incoming attack. Easily sidestepping the reckless overhead blow, Ferdinand didn't bother to unsheathe his sword all the way out at such close quarters, and simply jammed his pommel into Caspar's ribs, hard enough to make the shorter lord curse loudly as he doubled over in pain. "Son of a—"

With his opening made, Ferdinand proceeded to repeatedly hammer the same spot in Caspar's chest with his fists, before striking him in the jaw, drawing a spray of blood and saliva. Groaning in pain and realising he was in trouble, Caspar then tried to shove him back with the haft of his greataxe, only for Ferdinand to catch it and shove the weapon right back towards its wielder, hitting him square in the nose and knocking his head back.

With his opponent stunned, bleeding, and awaiting his blow of grace, Ferdinand wrenched Caspar's weapon from his grasp before winding it back and striking his dazed opponent in the gut with the greataxe's blunt end, causing him to topple on the ground once more. "Let this be a lesson, lord."

Caspar stayed down as he writhed in pain and clutched at his abdomen. "…oouurrgh."

The outcome of their spar was never in any doubt, and yet, Ferdinand couldn't help but feel disappointed, having been left wanting for a proper challenge. He grimaced at how he genuinely seemed to miss the feeling of being in the thick of combat, with the weight of his armour around his body, his gauntleted hands grasping the haft of his poleaxe, and with the chaos of war — the clamour of steel and sorcery, and the screams of the dying — ringing in his ears.

"Did you have fun toying with the little hothead, my lord?"

The young lord turned aside, finding the lady who so captivated him before. Only this time, her hands were wreathed in lightning as she strode over to him, her face set in a determined frown.

"But I did no such thing, my lady." Ferdinand took no chances with mages as he drew his sword and put up a proper fencing stance. He knew what she approached him for, and he drew on his previous experiences with Byleth in order to not to let his attraction to this young woman distract him too much. "He is nowhere near a threat to me, so I disabled him as quickly as I could, as painlessly as I could."

"You call that painless? You demolished him!"

"I did, but I could have done so much worse."

"You arrogant, pretentious, heartless bastard!"

Seeing Arnault's attack coming even before raised her hands, Ferdinand easily dodged the incoming bolt of lightning his new opponent hurled his way, sidestepped the next bolt, then jumped over a third aimed for his legs, gracefully landing on his feet like Byleth taught him in Goneril. Arnault looked startled that none of her bolts struck their mark, and she couldn't help but let out a panicked cry when Ferdinand broke into a sprint and proceeded to rapidly close the distance between them, his sword raised high and poised to strike her down.

"W-wait!"

The moment Ferdinand made to slow down and demand a yield, however, he realised his folly when she drew the dagger hanging from her hip, and only his instincts and his experiences with fighting mages saved him from getting blasted across the yard with a fourth bolt of lightning as he tucked into a dive and deftly rolled back onto his feet. Having had kept his advantage, Ferdinand relished the shocked look on his devious adversary's face as he then lunged at her and nimbly elbowed her dagger from out of her hand, before bringing down his sword just barely an inch from her throat.

"Goddess!" As she massaged her aching hand, Arnault stared at him with wide eyes, horror dawning on her face as she realised how close she was from losing her head. "What… happened to you? I never could have imagined you'd turn out to be like this..."

Ferdinand lowered his blade, his face twisting in confusion. "Have we met before, my lady?"

She appeared stunned at his words, but before long, she started looking at him like she wanted to stab him. "Forget it. You win, Ferdie. Congratulations, I suppose."

"Um, "Ferdie"? You seem to know me, but… I don't even know your name."

"Saints, how can you be so… urgh, it's Dorothea. I'm sure you've heard of me."

The young lord was taken aback. "The Mystical Songstress…?" He planted his blade on the ground, unsure if he should bow or kneel before someone he once spent so much time admiring on the orchestral stage. "I am… quite honoured to personally make your acquaintance. Your works alongside Lady Casagranda never cease to mesmerise me, even years after I have seen them. Please, allow me to…"

"Eww, no." With a contemptuous scoff, Dorothea turned away. "Whatever disgusting perversion you have in mind, I don't want to hear it."

"Wait, my lady! I have no such—"

"And you can drop the act. You're not fooling anyone… me, least of all."

Ferdinand was left wondering just what had happened as the young woman strode off to edge of the yard, leaving him alone with his next opponent.

"My lord," Ferdinand easily caught the bardiche Mayu tossed over to him. The warrior herself was now wielding the same billhook he had seen Petra holding before, which he took as a sign that the foreign princess was no longer in the field. "Should we continue where we left off?"

Keenly aware of how Edelgard was paying the most attention to the two of them now, Ferdinand raised his weapon and adjusted his stance for a drawn-out bout with Mayu, taking pleasure in the knowledge that he was in for a proper fight with an experienced warrior, much like him. "What was the score since last we sparred?"

"Your eight to my seven." She said as she lunged at Ferdinand, who deflected her thrust and countered with his own, which Mayu simply stepped aside from. "I am beginning to think there is not much more you can learn from me."

"Not so!" Ferdinand adjusted his aim and thrust again, missing a second time when Mayu contorted her body to evade the blow, before she quickly turned her momentum into an angled thrust which he likewise managed to evade. "I have yet to decipher—" He anticipated her follow-up thrust aimed for his legs, which he fended off. "How to mask my intent," He then rushed up with an accompanying swipe, which she managed to duck under, but only barely. He smiled, knowing he was close to overwhelming her. "As well as you do!"

With Mayu positioned inside his guard, however, there was little he could do to prevent her from bracing herself to the ground with her weapon before landing a strong kick to his midsection, sending him hobbling backwards. He lost count of how many times he had been subjected to this particular attack. "That… was well played."

"Truthfully," Mayu took a breath, momentarily lowering her weapon. "I do not think you are suited for misleading your foes… it is not in your nature. But that is fine — your other talents more than compensate for this weakness."

Ferdinand almost laughed, even as he prepared himself to approach her again. "Compliment me all you like, friend, I have grown wise to your tricks. The victory of this bout is mine to claim!"

As he drew close, Mayu instantaneously raised her polearm once more. "Come and take it, then."

Their dance continued for longer as they fell into now-familiar rhythms, but whereas Ferdinand's movements became more fluid as he revelled in the rush of combat, Mayu started getting slower as he overwhelmed her with a rapid succession of thrusts and swings. It only took a single moment of slackness on Mayu's part that allowed Ferdinand to catch her weapon with the flanged beard of his bardiche, before he pulled and yanked the billhook out from her grasp.

"I yield." Mayu said, breathing hard. "Your nine to my seven."

Ferdinand lowered his bardiche, confused and a bit wary at how quickly Mayu called an end to their bout. He fully expected her to simply unleash her secondary weapon and keep fighting, as he would in the event that she managed to disarm him instead. "Are you alright, my lady?"

Mayu was not looking at him, however. Following her narrow-eyed gaze, Ferdinand spotted Hubert on the far side of the yard, and he appeared to be in the middle of trouncing both Bernadetta and Linhardt simultaneously, which was not such a surprising thing to see, given how inept the latter two students appear to be in combat. What truly drew Ferdinand's attention, however, was the fact that Hubert was clearly using an alarmingly familiar kind of magic — the kind he had seen being wielded by Agarthan mages in battle.

"Agarthan." Mayu hid her hands in her sleeves, no doubt to prepare a hidden weapon. "He is distracted. This will not take long."

"Do not be hasty, now." Ferdinand gestured at her to stand down for now. "I doubt another disguised Agarthan would openly use dark magic like this. It is possible that he has suffered a fate much alike the Ordelian children."

"Then we must cut out the truth from him. I know where he sleeps — it will be simple enough to..."

"No, my lady. We must be cautious about this. If Hubert is indeed an infiltrator for the Scions, any direct action we take against him might alert any others of his kind to us."

Mayu huffed, unsatisfied by his approach, but seeing the practicality in it, nonetheless. "But here, in this exercise where we are expected to fight each other... will you let me take "direct action" against him? I promise not to maim him."

Ferdinand should not be taking this amount of satisfaction at unleashing Mayu on an unsuspecting Hubert. "Take my weapon. Show Princess Edelgard her inferior eye for retainers."

As Mayu eagerly retrieved Ferdinand's bardiche and started to head straight for Hubert, Ferdinand took a breath and made for the sidelines, where Petra, Caspar, and the student with the red birthmark on her face were being tended to by Dorothea, who was apparently also a white mage.

"Did you really have to hurt him like this?"

Ferdinand glanced aside to Dorothea, who was fussing over a still dazed-looking Caspar.

"Look, he could barely understand what's going on around him. He'll have bruises all over him after this, and he'd probably have to spend weeks in the infirmary if not for my magic! And did you have to go and break his nose, too?"

He sighed harshly. "My lady, what I have inflicted to his body will not compare to what a bandit or an enemy soldier would do to him, should he act as careless in the field as he was in our bout."

Dorothea did not seem to agree, judging by the irate look on her face. She opened her mouth as though to argue, when Edelgard appeared by Ferdinand's side.

"Ferdinand speaks with the wisdom of a veteran, Ms. Arnault." The princess intoned. It felt strangely pleasing to hear her call him by name. "He has been through war, and conducted himself with both valour and dignity, from all that I have heard. All of us stand to benefit from his advice."

"You flatter me, your highness," Ferdinand said, unsure of what to make of Edelgard's praise. "But I was merely attempting to prove myself as a worthy heir."

"And prove yourself you did, first in Goneril, then in Aegir, and then today, right here on this yard." Edelgard continued. "As complicated the relationship between our two houses may have become these recent times, I hope I can count on you to serve by my side. Together, we will..."

"Lord Ferdinand!"

Heads turned as Hubert cried out in an unusually elevated tone of voice.

"Call off your dog!" The princess' retainer exclaimed as he tried to crawl away from Mayu. Hubert looked to be sporting new, weeping cuts to his arms and his face, whereas Mayu's uniform was visibly torn and scourged with arcane fire. "Damn it, woman, stand down! Do not force me to kill you!"

Ferdinand stood horrified at the sight, but Edelgard seemed much more surprised than concerned at the state of her retainer. "How truly fortunate it is, to have the both of you with us in the Black Eagles. The Blue Lions and the Golden Deer will soon tremble before our combined might."

...

The following day, Arthur awoke to a chaotic sight. Victor's upper half was sprawled over on their table, snoring loudly with an empty bottle of brandy still in his grasp. Hilda was seated dangerously close to the edge of her chair as she leaned her weight against the soldier, her head tilted to face the ceiling and drool running down the side of her open mouth. As for Shez, the boy was lying face-down on the floor nearby, where he could be mistaken for a corpse if not for the occasional twitch.

He remembered spending the previous night helping these three drink their way through enough alcohol to bathe oneself in, long after the other students had left for their dormitories. He also remembered everyone laughing when Shez mentioned having heard him confessing to being an outlaw in the past, which he didn't even try to deny. He couldn't remember much else after that, only that he had spent the night watching the kids make fools of themselves.

"You were with Captain Jeralt when he died?"

Startled, Arthur straightened on his seat and whipped his head to the voice, realising there was one other soul in the room: a girl about Ferdinand's age, with hair and eyes almost the same shade of orange as the boy. She appeared to have sunk into the cushion of her seat from how long she was sitting, and in her hand was another bottle of brandy, which appeared nearly depleted.

"Yeah... I was."

She hung her head. "Why did it have to be him? Anyone else could have gone in his place, and yet…"

Arthur sighed. "Yeah. Were it up to me, I'd have died there instead of him."

She nodded, sniffling. "At least you were there, at the end. His daughter couldn't even be bothered to—"

The noise Arthur's stool made as he stood up was loud and harsh enough to make Victor stir in his sleep. "Sleep it off, girl. You're drunk."

"She didn't care about him!" The student suddenly cried out, face red and tears running down her eyes. "The way she spoke about how he died… it's like she didn't care at all! It's like she killed him herself!"

Hilda groaned as Victor started to shift. "Uurrrgh, my head… Leonie, please just… shut up! Just shut up about Captain Jeralt, for once! It's like he's all you think about!"

Arthur took a breath to calm himself. He would accomplish nothing except waste his time and give himself a worse headache by sticking around a bunch of inebriated young folks. After giving Shez a nudge of his boot to ensure the boy was still alive, Arthur quickly departed the room and left the building, where he soon crossed paths with a group of students who appear to be led by the white-haired Imperial princess he had made acquaintances with the day before.

"A pleasant day to you, Mr. Morgan." Princess Edelgard seemed in high spirits as she greeted him with a nod. She looked puzzled as she eyed the building he emerged from, but only for a moment. "You must have made plenty of connections during your service in the Alliance. I do not think they would allow you inside their chapter-keep otherwise."

"It's either I spend the night there, or in a gutter somewhere. I can't exactly leave the monastery right now." Arthur said, now noticing that some of the students look rather worn out, their injuries only just recently healed. "What happened to you fellers? Some of you look messed up."

"We had just recently departed from the training grounds, Arthur. I am sure you need not be told what we have been up to back there." Ferdinand said. Arthur was unsurprised to see him in the company of the Imperial princess. "But… what is this about not being able to leave the monastery? Surely the knights cannot force you to stay here?"

Edelgard traded inquisitive glances at either of them. "The two of you seem to know each other."

"Ferdinand's a good kid. We fought the Almyrans." Arthur said, before turning to Ferdinand. "No one's really forcing me to stay here, except maybe Catherine. It's just that… well, it ain't safe for me to wander out into the open… not anymore." He sighed, his expression hardening. "Not since they found this goddamn crest hitchin' a ride in my system."

"You… have a crest?" One of the students in Edelgard's group, the taller, black-haired one with a peculiar set of sunken yellow eyes framed in shadow, stared at Arthur. For some reason, he looked like he had just been wading through a bush full of sharp thorns. "Ridiculous. Only those either blessed by the saints or shared blood with the Ten Elites could hope to acquire a crest."

"It's true, Lord Hubert." Linhardt said. "You know how Thunder Catherine could sense crests at a glance, right? I was there when she discovered Mr. Morgan's crest. I even saw it for myself."

"And now if he leaves the monastery, he's risking himself to being captured by nobles." Caspar was unusually subdued as he spoke. He had the look of a dog some bastard had just kicked. "He's stuck here with us."

"Which is wonderful! Uhh, I mean, w-wonderfully… um, bad." Dorothea laughed nervously. "This is very, very bad. Until he finds someone powerful to protect him, he may as well get comfortable here."

Edelgard affected a look of both surprise and concern, though Arthur couldn't help but see the intrigue in her eyes, like an opportunity just landed on her lap. "This is quite unprecedented. A foreigner bearing a crest is… such a thing should not be possible. Tell me, Mr. Morgan, what sort of crest do you possess?"

Arthur twisted the corner of his mouth as Ferdinand suddenly broke away from his group and started striding over to him, a strangely determined look on his face. "The major crest of Seiros. I ain't su—"

"My friend, walk with me." Ferdinand said, in an assertive tone that made Arthur realise he won't take refusal for an answer. "Mayu, come."

Arthur was briefly surprised to see the state of Mayu's once-pristine uniform when she appeared by Ferdinand's side. "Uh, okay? Sure. Where we headed?"

In lieu of giving him an answer, Ferdinand gestured for Arthur to follow. Shrugging, Arthur tipped his hat in Edelgard's direction before walking after the young lord. "You look like you've got somethin' planned, kid."

Ferdinand continued to head southwest of the monastery as they talked. "In truth, I have been planning to do this after the war in Goneril… until you were struck down by the Almyrans. I… regret that there is no time for a proper ceremony, but I believe your unfortunate circumstances warrant that we go through this with all due haste."

Eventually, Ferdinand led Mayu and Arthur to the stables, much to the latter's surprise. "Mayu, please ensure that no one interrupts us."

In response, Mayu pointed to one of the stalls. "You. Get out, now."

Arthur crossed his arms in bemusement as another several students scrambled out of their hiding spot and fled south, away from the stables. "…so, uh, either of you mind tellin' me what the hell's going on?"

"Be at ease, Arthur," Ferdinand cleared his sword from its sheathe, causing Arthur to instinctively tense up for an attack. "I mean you no harm."

Ferdinand was one of the last people he expected to betray him, and he forced himself to remain calm until he could figure out what the young lord intended. "I'm inclined to believe you, boy, but I ain't too sure there's anything much you can do with a sword, 'sides doin' harm."

"True enough, but humour me here, my friend. Tradition dictates that one must use a sword for this, and I am nothing if not respectful for the ways of those who came before."

"Right, so… what do you want me to do?"

"When you are ready, please take a knee."

Arthur quickly caught on to what Ferdinand had in mind. "Jesus… you know I can't go through with this, right? I wanna work with you, Ferdinand. I said I wanted to fight the Agarthans, and that ain't changing any time soon… but the last thing I want is to work for the Empire."

"You need not have to." Ferdinand said, shaking his head. "Indeed, I will be doing you a disservice to ask of you to swear an oath to serve Adrestia. All I ask is that you do not lose yourself in our struggle to expose and burn out the corruption brewing beneath our feet, and continue to be just in all things."

The boy smiled proudly, eyes shining in deep respect. "I can think of no other person more deserving of this. Take a knee and accept these vows, Arthur, and I promise to protect you as best as I could, in every way I could. Those who wish to cause you harm will answer to me, and the wrath of a duke is a terrible thing to behold."

For a moment, Arthur couldn't find the words to form a response. It has been some time since someone looked at him with such admiration. He was reminded of Isaac, from a time he used to think little about, but now cherish whenever it came to mind.

"I, uh…" Arthur began, as he shook himself away from his memories of simpler times now forever lost. Swallowing his pride, and accepting that this was the best solution to his crest problem, he slowly went down on a knee before Ferdinand. "What do you want me to say?"

Ferdinand's smile widened. "Arthur Morgan, may your deeds be told far and wide, and give inspiration those who hear it. May you be blessed with good health and a clear mind, and may the light of the goddess illuminate your path, now and always. Do you swear to be a force against injustice in all its forms, from this moment on until you draw your last breath?"

Arthur fought down the discomfort welling up in the pit of his stomach. "Uhh, sure."

"Do you swear to always be charitable, and to stand as a bulwark for the weak, the vulnerable, and the helpless?"

"Yes."

"Do you swear to be brave, and to never falter in the face of danger, no matter how great and terrible?"

"Yeah."

"And do you swear to be a champion for the common folk, to treat them with respect and decency as true nobles should?"

"You got it."

Ferdinand laughed. "I do not think those are the correct things to say in response to your vows, Arthur."

"Times are changing, Ferdinand." Arthur said, as he watched Ferdinand lower his blade, striking him firmly on each shoulder with the flat side of the weapon.

"I dub thee, Sir Arthur Morgan… knight of the Adrestian Empire, inheritor of the crest of Seiros!" Ferdinand declared with the raising of his blade. "Rise now, my friend, and fear no danger from the schemes of unworthy nobles."

Arthur stood up, feeling strangely relieved. "So... what now?"

"Now?" Ferdinand put his blade away, still smiling. He made his way over to one of the stalls. "What kind of knight does not have his own steed? Fortunately for you, I see it as my duty to provide for the needs of my soldiers."

Arthur now realised why Ferdinand picked the stables to perform this impromptu knighting. "That's… that's a hell of a horse you got there."

"Quite so, as you will soon come to learn." Ferdinand said as he led the horse — a dark grey, well-muscled destrier with a sleek build, about a few inches taller than Arthur stood — over to the newly-minted knight. "Do not let her size and build deceive you. She is one of the swiftest, most agile warhorses from our own stables in Castle Aegir, making her well-suited for both harrying the foe, or charging into the fray... provided you can overcome her wild spirit."

"Right, figured there's some sorta catch." Arthur smirked, recalling the many, many times Boadicea caused him bodily harm before he could find some sort of understanding with the tempestuous mare. "She got a name?"

"No... but she does have a title. The Astral Knights have taken to calling her the Duchess. Fitting, is it not?"

A/N: Tonight on Outlaw Knight: Byleth sleeps all night and wakes up feeling refreshed (haha, who does that?), Ferdinand is already at level 10 while everyone else is level 1, Shez drinks all night and wakes up wanting to die (relatable), and Arthur takes a step onto the slippery slope of feudalism (yikes).

When I realised how big chapter 13 was going to be when I put all my ideas to words, I realised it'll be March when I finish jotting it all down, estimating probably around 30-40k words in terms of sheer length. As I now prefer to upload regularly instead of taking up whole months just to struggle to write a gargantuan monster of a chapter, I decided I might as well upload now, then start working on a much more reasonably-sized chapter 14.

Alright, on with the reviews:

xXKnow1NosXx: I'll introduce another character from the RDRverse who's from a more modern (but not really) time, with a stash of period-appropriate guns and munitions, but really, I shouldn't expect to see an AK or an M16, or a SCAR-H, or whatever in the hands of the protagonists. Like I mentioned in the previous chapters, I want to focus on Agarthan-made, reverse-engineered guns and more primitive Fodlan-made, gunpowder-based weapons.

Don't worry, the M4 is still there. Arthur's just suspicious of strange guns.

njgronlund: I hired Ferdinand von Aegir to break into your house so he can tell you he is Ferdinand von Aegir.

jordanlink7856: Many thanks! Here's some more.

DanishCookie: Nice of you to join the voices in the reviews, and that'll be one hell of a foes-to-lovers arc for sure, because right now, Arthur thinks Rhea's suspicious as hell, and in the near future, Rhea might not be too happy to hear Arthur's past occupation as a bandit, given all her problems in the present day was caused by a jumped-up bandit.

Dasgun: w

Petra Anderson: Helmets are better than eyepatches.

x-x-TheBurnedMan-x-x: Rest assured that I thoroughly enjoyed all that. Thanks, lol. And yes, Arthur does get to burn himself into Almyra's memory, as we'll see when he gets to properly interact with Claude.

Speaking of Claude, given his first-hand experiences with guns, I think it's only natural that he'll find a way to make use of them, both personally, and to arm his soldiers with. Everything to get an edge over the other two. As for bullets and other munitions, I have a few things planned, don't worry.

Dorothea doesn't waste time, lol. She signed up for Garreg Mach with a clear objective in mind, and right now, an ex-mercenary turned war hero with a crest who's sitting on a stack of cash looks like a good enough catch. Maybe she'll get off his case once he makes it clear he's off the market. That, and Byleth will get her promotion and her own crest, which makes her another attractive target.

Spartastic 4: Only the spiciest rumours cooked up by bored mercenaries and made even more ridiculous by being passed around bored soldiers before being picked up by Edelgard's spies.

nexusknight2: Sort of. He's part-dragon in the way Jeralt and Wilhelm I were, which is to say, not really. They just have the blood of a dragon in their veins.

Blast Ketchup: Around two weeks? This one took about a week, though.

mad thought: At least she's in his age range. Well, not really, but it's better than being shipped with people he's old enough to be their dad, lmao.

Edoteo: You would think people would see it as a blessing, right? But people are petty and jealous, and Arthur's a foreign-born commoner with a past as a thief and a murderer. I can imagine a lot of nobles and knights might take offence in someone like him acquiring a major crest, and suspect foul play was involved instead of seeing it as a miracle from the goddess.

DarkAres12: Person from modern times? Sort of. I do have plans for a WW2 commando-type character. Lieutenant Yarrow (the pegasus rider) doesn't have a Scottish accent for no reason, after all.

NaoBea: Catherine's dump stat is wisdom. That is all.

Rook435: Nice to see you again!

I could spend too much time explaining how regular people get crests, but the long and short of it is that if you weren't born with them, the only way you can get them in the present time is by getting a living nabatean (like Rhea, Seteth, or Flayn) to give you a blood transfusion of sorts. Nemesis in the past got his crest by killing Sothis and drinking her blood, then having the Ten Elites get theirs by making them drink the blood of the nabateans he slaughtered. Emperor Wilhelm got his crest by getting it from Rhea (non-violently this time), just like Jeralt and Arthur. I can also imagine Catherine used to only have a minor crest of Charon before Rhea healed her, which "upgraded" her crest.

As for Kronya, let's just say that what Ferdinand told Arthur and Byleth about what happened in Aegir might not be 100% true.

Dobursmor: Is this baby's first troll attempt? Why go through all that effort to make a burner account just to shit out a low-effort, barely-comprehensible troll review?

DOOT76: Hello again!

Now that we're in White Clouds, I expect to write a whole lot of fluff, but just enough to get the characterisations going and future relationships established and either reinforced, modified, or broken entirely. Ferdinand's upcoming birthday in the 30th of Great Tree Moon, which also happens to fall on the first mock battle between the three houses, is something I'm also planning to write about.

Mayu certainly does have a grounding influence on Ferdinand, especially as he comes to see her more as an overbearing older sister. Ferdinand also hasn't been the same after everything he has seen and done, and as things go from bad to worse, he's poised to grow into a different kind of character, as compared to his canon portrayal. It's very unlikely that he'll end this story as the noblest of nobles.

SW11037: Arthur got his crest from Rhea, who did the same to both Jeralt not too long ago, and Emperor Wilhelm during the War of Heroes. The way I see it, the effects of crests vary by individual, but Arthur is kinda special given that he's a first-generation crest bearer, so he's getting a lot more mileage out of his major crest as compared to others who were born with theirs. Edelgard's own crest probably isn't that special, but what makes her just as powerful as Arthur (if not more powerful in the rawest sense) is that she was subjected to crest experimentation by the Agarthans to give her the Crest of Flames, somehow making it exist alongside her old crest. They basically tried to remake Nemesis in Edelgard, and they sorta succeeded, given that she didn't die like all the rest they tried to experiment on.

EternalKirby: Let's just say that in this story, Claude didn't enroll into Garreg Mach voluntarily. Blame House Riegan.