"So what are we up against?" Shamir kept her cool demeanor despite having heard so much. "Just some dark magic users?"

"It's impossible hard to tell, I haven't been able to find anything about this organization in the library," Byleth had his arms crossed as he leaned against his desk in the Black Eagles homeroom. "But I suppose with the old librarian still there, he'd make sure I wouldn't."

"The students will be back soon," Shamir tapped her index finger against her lips as she thought.

Byleth wasn't hungry for lunch today, he'd even skipped breakfast, too. Normally, he would've ensured to keep his strength up, but he didn't want to cause any complications in case his plan backfired on him.

"Well, you're right about one thing," Shamir continued. "We can't go to Lady Rhea with this, not yet."

"I'm surprised to hear you say that," he raised a brow expectantly.

"Why?" Shamir scoffed. "Because I'm a Knight of Seiros?"

Byleth gave her a weak shrug and then a nod.

"First and foremost, I'm a mercenary, fancy titles never meant much to me." she answered. " I'm not sure I like this plan of yours, though. There has to be some other way to get the proof we need."

"She's a danger to the students," Byleth adjusted his stance. "We don't have time to dig around like we would when we'd get a contract. Besides, when have you ever known a knight such as Jeritza to use a dagger? We need a comparison."

"I know, Manuela's injuries were very odd," she was forced to admit.

It had nagged at him since they found the source of his colleague's injuries. The Death Knight seemed to pride himself in the most exuberant, large weapons he could find, yet he uses a small dagger to stab Manuela.

"And Tomas?"

"We'd need a lot more to go on to accuse the dear old librarian," he shook his head. "I think his time here predates all of us combined."

"I never did like him," Shamir huffed. "Every time I'd see him, he had a new or different limp."

Byleth laughed. For once, it was nice to not have to explain his suspicions but rather be in the company of someone who saw and heard the same things he did.

"They're coming back," Shamir snapped her head toward the entrance. "Are you sure you're ready for this?"

"As ready as I'll ever be," Byleth pushed himself off of his desk as his students began to casually re-enter their classroom.

"Professor! You didn't join us for lunch," Ferdinand called as he took a seat.

"Not very hungry today, perhaps tomorrow," Byleth answered.

Edelgard and Monica were the last to enter. The red-haired girl kept her arm intertwined with hers as they walked to their seats.

"But you m-must keep your energy up!" Bernie's concern was touching. Byleth had to take a moment to truly appreciate how far she'd come.

"I'll join you for dinner," Byleth gave her smile. "Sound like a fair compromise?"

She zealously nodded her head in agreement.

It was a lie, and Byleth did not like to lie to his students. But extenuating circumstances required it. He did not know if he'd be able to even have dinner tonight.

"Now why don't you all retrieve your training weapons and let's head to the courtyard out front," Byleth instructed. The class was so accustomed to their new training regiment that they kept their wooden weapons in the classroom, most leaned against one of the walls or laid on the tables.

Each grabbed their preferred training weapon as they exited the classroom.

"Let's dance off that meal, shall we?" Ingrid voiced her excitement. Bernie wasn't the only one that had grown.

"Actually, today, we'll be doing both avoidance and parrying," Byleth began his walk outside with Shamir by his side. "When you can master both, you'll truly be a force to be reckoned with as your movements will grow even more unpredictable."

"Ooh," Annette cooed. "A new challenge! I'm always up for those!"

The students intuitively separated into their teams of three as they awaited their professor's word to begin.

He felt a hard thump on his arm and turned his head to see Shamir had smacked him with the back of her hand.

She dug her index finger into her chest and then brought both her fists adjacent to her chest, then pointed her index fingers toward one another.

Byleth vigorously shook his head and put his finger on his own chest and then pointed at Shamir. He brought his opposite hand up and grasped his finger.

Shamir was visibly annoyed.

"It's that mercenary speak," Caspar chimed in.

"You need to teach us that!" Leonie's elation rose.

He intended to, but not today. For now, it was safer if Monica didn't know what they were communicating to each other.

Shamir pursed her lips in anger and made an "O" with her right hand and brought it to her forehead with her pinkie extended as her eyes pierced through his. Then she made her way to stand behind Monica and then crossed her arms with a loud sigh.

Byleth knew what she said, she had just called him an idiot. He put on a wide smile and returned his attention to his students, "alright, are we all in our teams?"

Edelgard eyed him curiously. He was glad she had not pried into his plan to rid themselves of Monica, or she would have certainly joined in Shamir's sentiment.

"You're going to go easy on me, won't you professor?" Monica held her wooden sword behind her back and she suggestively swayed her body.

He gave her a feigned smile, "of course, we'll start off easy. Let's get started."

One by one, the members of each team began circling each other. The clacking of their weapons colliding came few and far between. Most of them opted to avoid their opponent's strike.

Byleth swung his sword a few times as he approached Monica and Shamir, "are we ready?"

Monica awkwardly held her wooden sword in front of her with both hands, "only if you promise not to hit me." Her disingenuous chuckle made his stomach turn. This young woman had the audacity to play innocent when he very well knew that she threatened not only him, but Edelgard.

Byleth lifted his sword into the air and brought it down slower than usual. Monica lifted her sword across her head and parried his strike.

He would play along for the moment. But he felt a ball of heat rise in his chest. Byleth risked everything in the past to protect his students, he would not let this… outsider threaten them any longer.

He swung the sword horizontally and she clumsily stepped backward. Shamir stood idly by with a training sword in her hand. She decided not to engage in their sparring. Byleth knew she wanted to be ready.

This time, it was Monica who swung her weapon toward him. He easily sidestepped her lazy attempt.

Byleth kept his promise. They started off slow.

He placed both his hands on the hilt of the wooden sword and lifted it above his shoulder as he swung it toward her much faster.

Monica lifted her blade vertically in front of her body. Their training swords collided and Byleth pushed forward. She pushed back.

Their faces grew closer together. She didn't parry his strike, instead the two stood in a match of strength as they each pushed their swords against one another. He could still hear the clacking of his students' swords, he hoped it would drown the sound of his voice.

"I know who you are," Byleth whispered, his voice barely audible. "No need to go easy on me."

Monica's eyes widened. She immediately repelled his blade and stepped backward to put distance between the two.

Byleth stepped forward, determined to keep her within earshot. He spun his body and brought his sword across her, aiming for her chest. To his surprise, she also spun toward him.

"First, I'm coming for you," Byleth continued. He kept his tone just loud enough for her to hear, and her alone.

Monica lifted her blade above her head and brought it down at lightning speed. Byleth darted to her side and leaned his head closer to her ear, "then I'm going after Edelgard."

He chose his words carefully. If things didn't go as planned, he did not want to hint that it was she was the one that had confided in him. If it went horribly wrong, at least they would still believe Edelgard was on their side.

"You're just vermin," Monica hissed back, the volume of her voice matched his. She did not want the class to hear what she had said.

This was good. It meant she believed she could still return to her innocent act after this was over.

Byleth swung again, she parried his strike. He pivoted his body and thrusted his blade forward, "funny, I thought you were going to be dangerous."

He let a rebellious grin form as he parried her frenzy of strikes.

"I am dangerous," Monica narrowed her eyes. "You couldn't possibly know what I'm capable of."

Byleth yawned as he used only a single hand to move his sword swiftly across his body. She increased her speed as she flared her nostrils, "hopefully Solon will put up more of a fight. I could use the challenge."

"What?" Monica's voice grew hoarse as she tried to keep her voice low. "How do you know-"

"I know about all of it," Byleth returned her strikes with his own flurry of attacks. "You guys aren't very smart if someone like me could figure it out."

"Our plans far secede your understanding," Monica's feet moved swiftly as she dodged his blade. "You couldn't possibly-"

"Well, if your smarts match your… fighting talent," Byleth egged her on. "Then I don't think I'll have any trouble."

He knew she had taken the bait. Monica was only a lackey in the larger scheme of things. Lackeys rarely held self-control and were often impulsive.

"You filthy… vermin!" She yelled. Monica's eyes were crazed and dilated. They were wide as her pupils frantically darted across his body. She reached behind her back with her free hand.

Byleth took a deep breath and held it as he heard the swift sound of metal being unsheathed.

Here we go.

He kept his eyes on her hand as Monica swung her arm forward. Byleth struggled to make out the blur that was her fist gripping something. A shimmer caught his eye and he snapped his hand forward.

Their eyes met. For what seemed like several moments, the two stood face-to-face. Byleth let his instincts take over as he felt for any pain in his body.

He only felt a strange stinging sensation in his palm, he lowered his eyes to see that in the small space that separated them, she held a dagger in her hand, and he tightly gripped her blade as the tip hovered above his belly button.

Byleth could see the blood begin to overflow from his palm as his hand shook, desperately trying to prevent her dagger from going any further. She was, indeed, much stronger and capable than she let on.

He brought his gaze back up to see her eyes twitch as she pushed harder. Byleth did not repel her backward, he did not drop his wooden sword. He used all of his strength to move her hand, and her dagger with it.

Slowly, the tip of her blade moved away from his belly button to the outer edge of his stomach.

That should be good enough, Byleth thought to himself as he tried to drown out the stinging in his palm.

He kept his grip on her blade, but let his arm relax. Her dagger plunged into his skin, but only as far as his hand would allow.

Byleth felt an intense pressure in his side but did not loosen his grip. As long as he held the blade, her dagger couldn't penetrate his skin any further.

"Oh my god!"

He couldn't make out who's voice that was, his focus was squarely on Monica.

"What is she doing?" A horrified voice yelled.

Monica's pupils retracted as she suddenly became aware of her surroundings. She pulled her dagger back, slicing further into Byleth's palm as she looked around.

She took several steps back.

"Professor! Are you okay?"

"What happened?"

"Knights!" Shamir yelled as she darted toward Monica.

Monica ducked Shamir's arm as she took off in a sprint down the courtyard. Shamir cocked her arm above her shoulder and flung her wooden sword into the air.

It struck Monica squarely in the back and she fell face first into the grass.

"Knights!" Shamir ran forward as she repeated her call. "At once!"

Byleth looked down to try and assess the damage to the side of his stomach.

There was blood from both his palm and his side. But he imagined it would've been far worse had she managed to pierce him in the center of his stomach.

He looked up to see Shamir closing in on Monica as she stumbled to her feet. But with a bright white light that shot toward the sky, she was gone.

Shamir came to a stop as she spun her body, but found no sign of Monica. Several Knights of Seiros converged around her.

"Lady Shamir?" One called out.

"Search the grounds!" Shamir bellowed. "The student, Monica- red hair. I want her found!"

Byleth felt an innumerable amount of hands on his shoulders, on his back and arms. He kept his hand firmly planted against his shallow wound.

"Professor!" Dorothea's face leaned into his vision.

"I'm fine," Byleth nodded. His breath quickened but he knew the wound was not serious.

Edelgard pulled his free hand and draped it over her neck, "help me get him to the infirmary!"

"Oh, my goodness," Annette followed as he began to walk.

"We've got you," Leonie clammored to his injured side. She didn't try to remove his hand from his stomach but rather placed her palm on his back and the other on his shoulder.

"I'm okay," Byleth assured them as he walked. Edelgard seemed intent on forcing him to put more weight on her as she pulled his arm further across her neck though he felt as if he could walk on his own. "Shamir?"

Shamir jogged back toward them as they made their way across the courtyard, "she's gone. The knights are doing a thorough sweep."

Damn it all, Byleth pursed his lips. That was not a part of the plan.

"She just went crazy, Lady Rhea!" Leonie huffed.

"It was only meant to be a simple sparring exercise," Ferdinand added.

"It all happened so fast…" Ingrid let her words trail off.

It seemed each student had something to say on the matter.

"The Knights of Seiros are patrolling every inch of Garreg Mach and its surrounding grounds," Seteth stood next to Rhea.

"I assure you, professor," Rhea gave him a nod. "She will be found."

Edelgard stood next to the infirmary bed on which Byleth sat on the edge. Her arms were crossed and her mind was torn between being furious with her teacher and concerned. But she knew she could not show either emotion, at least not while there were so many in the small room.

"B-but," Bernie stuttered. "She just dis-disappeared into thin air! What if she comes back?"

Rhea turned her gaze to the frightened girl, "we have our white mages dispersed across the monastery, they will prevent that sort of… dark magic from being used within our gates again. We will send word once we are able to locate her."

"I find it concerning that Tomas has also gone missing," Seteth rubbed his chin. "You wouldn't know anything about that, would you, professor?"

Edelgard perked up at his words. If their white mages were, in fact, taking preventative measures, then Solon's disguise might have failed him. And without the ability to teleport, he'd have no option but to flee Garreg Mach.

It also meant that Edelgard, herself, would no longer be able to use the power they bestowed upon her and Hubert. But it was a small price to pay and one she'd gladly give in exchange for freedom.

Byleth shook his head as he held out his hand. Manuela sat in her backless chair and placed gauze on the gouges on his palm and fingers, "I certainly hope he's alright, are the knights searching for him as well?"

Her teacher certainly knew how to play ignorant. It was a trait Edelgard found had propelled her in life.

"They are, I pray we find him in good health," Rhea took several steps forward and lifted her hand and rested it on her teacher's cheek.

Edelgard widened her eyes and scrunched her brow. She was not sure what she was witnessing.

"You just focus on recovering your strength, dear Byleth," Rhea cooed.

He shook his head, "I'm feeling fine. I'll resume class tomorrow."

"The wound was shallow," Professor Manuela chimed in as she wrapped his hand. "Thanks to his quick reflexes, his hand stopped her knife from doing any serious damage. It's already been irrigated and covered. Though, I believe the professor's just finding excuses to come see me."

"If you insist," Rhea did not seem to hear the physician. "But only if you are feeling well enough."

She retracted her hand and gracefully exited the infirmary with Seteth in tow.

Edelgard caught a glimpse of Shamir bringing her flattened hand to her face and with her middle finger bent, she touched her chin lightly and turned her hand toward the ground.

"What does that mean?" Leonie took a special interest in all things mercenary.

"It means I was lucky," Byleth answered and shrugged as he peered at Shamir. "It's about time they start learning."

Leonie repeated Shamir's motion several times.

Lucky, indeed.

Edelgard clenched her jaw. While her teacher had succeeded in separating his students from the immediate danger, he allowed himself to be injured in the process.

"Monica managed to burrow herself into our class," she began as she suppressed the anger that boiled inside of her. "We must be diligent as we don't know if there are others hiding within the monastery."

"Th-there could be more?" Bernie brought her hands together in front of her face.

"We can't be sure," Byleth added. "But I know this class and I know each of us will stick together. I don't want you to start distrusting each other. Monica was a newcomer, and I knew there was something off about her."

"But I am also a newcomer, am I not?" Flayn's eyes were wide.

Byleth nodded, "but I've known you, Flayn. Even before you joined the Black Eagles. Now that the weed has been pulled, the Black Eagles need to come closer than ever."

His words were met with affirming nods from her classmates. Byleth lifted his wrapped hand and tried to wiggle his fingers.

"Why did you not inform us that you suspected Monica?" Lindhard unexpectedly questioned.

"I didn't know what her intentions were. If I called her out on it, it may very well have been one of you that she lashed out at."

"Minimal movement," Professor Manuela instructed him as she lightly gripped his hand to prevent him from moving it too much. "Are you sure you don't want to stay here, just for tonight so that I can watch you?"

Byleth shook his head and gave her a warm smile, "I promised my students dinner."

"Oh, professor!" Annette cocked her head slightly. "You don't have to keep going just for us. I'm sure we all understand."

"Absolutely, if you need rest…" Ingrid added.

"No," Byleth hopped from the edge of the bed. "I'm feeling fine, really. Let's go."

Her teacher effortlessly left the infirmary with his students trailing behind. Edelgard kept her arms crossed, she had hoped for a moment alone with him. Whether she would use that moment to scold him or express her worry, she wasn't sure.

"How are you able to be so spry after such an injury?" She heard Flayn ask.

"You get used to it," Shamir replied. "Eventually, the shallow wounds become no more than an annoyance."

Edelgard was certain that he wasn't just 'lucky' as Shamir had communicated, but rather that he intended for it to be minor. Monica would not have struck to wound, she would have aimed to kill.

The flock descended the stairs, following close behind their professor as they made their way through the reception hall.

"Does anyone know what's on the menu?" Her teacher called out.

"I believe I heard something about a pheasant roast!" Ingrid answered, the delight in her voice apparent.

"I have to admit," Byleth chuckled. "That does sound delicious."

It was at this moment that Edelgard realized no one held her arm, or her hand as she walked. No one invaded her personal space with veiled threats. No one was watching her and she did not have to look over her shoulder.

She took a deep breath and took a moment to appreciate the lightness she felt swell within her.

"That certainly was…" Hubert approached her side, "risky."

Edelgard turned her head to face him, "what do you mean?"

"Our professor's little stunt," he answered coolly. "He intended to rid our class of the threat. But it could have played out very differently."

"I agree," she lowered her voice. "He's nothing if not determined to protect his students. That much is certain."

"Indeed," Hubert replied. "It would appear we've secured ourselves an ally. And an effective one at that to essentially kill two birds with but one stone."

"They're not dead, yet, Hubert," she sighed.

"But they are, indeed, on the run," he stated. "I do not believe I've ever seen them make such a hasty retreat before."

Edelgard did not reply. Somehow the word 'ally' did not do her teacher justice. He was much more than that.

He was determined, he was smart. He was protective, he was loyal, he was patient.

Edelgard allowed the thought to float across her mind, he was everything.