Two days had gone by, the training area was now packed with both students and instructors alike as they prepared for the coming mission. Ever since the news broke that there would be an attempt on the Archbishop's life at the Rite of Rebirth, everyone had begun to train even harder than usual in anticipation of the coming event.

Among those who'd been training were the Blue Lions, along with most of the other students from the Golden Deer and Black Eagles. From there, everyone split off into pairs and engaged in individual sparring matches for a little while before moving on to find someone to train with in order to test themselves against other weapons and opponents.

As the session went on, Felix could be seen having a particularly hard time against his new sparring partner, Petra, who came at him fast and from all different directions. Though it was already well within his skill level to block, dodge and parry everything the young foreign girl threw at him, the injuries from his fights with Jeritza had taken a toll on his stamina and reflexes.

Petra notices this and pressed her advantage. "You are slowing down, Felix. Are you being tired?"

Felix gritted his teeth, refusing to show weakness. "I'm fine," he spat, but his body betrayed him as he missed a block and Petra's wooden sword struck his shoulder, causing him to stumble back and wince as his own training sword clattered to the ground.

"Clearly that is not being the case." She commented upon witnessing this. "You are usually much more strong and agile when we train."

"It'll pass."

"Then why are you struggling to hold your sword?"

"Just give me a minute."

Petra frowned. "I have already been waiting. Many times, I think. Maybe you should be sparring with Ignatz instead?"

"Huh?"

From nearby, Ignatz, upon hearing his name, couldn't help but stop midway through his swing to look over at the two before his opponent Caspar came barrelling into him. Once the hotheaded noble had the timid student pinned to the ground, he hollered in triumph. "Woooo! Whatcha looking at, Ignatz? Don't be taking your eyes off me while we're taking shots!" Caspar grinned down at Ignatz. "Maybe you should leave the staring to your paintings and focus on the fight!"

Heads turned at the commotion, including Petra's, who scowled before glancing over at Felix one last time. "Please be excusing me, Felix." She said before bowing respectfully and began to march right over to Caspar who still had the poor student pinned to the stone floor. "Caspar! Release Ignzatz right this instant."

Caspar looked up at his fellow Black Eagle. "Oh, come on, Petra! We were only sparring, that's all."

"And the sparring is over." The princess from Brigid scolded him. "You have already been winning."

"Fine, fine." The noble shrugged before lifting himself off Ignatz and said, "Just don't take your eyes off of your opponent next time."

Once he was off, Ignatz quickly scrambled to his feet, but not before realizing he'd lost his glasses after being tackled. "Oh! My glasses! Has anyone seen-"

"I have them, Ignatz." Petra told him reassuringly as she leaned down and picked them up. "Here," She gently placed the glasses back on his face, adjusting them so they sat properly.

"Are you being alright?" she asked, her voice filled with concern.

Ignatz adjusted his glasses and nodded. "Yes, thank you, Petra. I'm alright."

"Good," She replied, giving him a small smile. "You will be sparring with me from now on. There are a few techniques that we think will be helping you with aggressive opponents. Now, follow me."

Petra took his hand and led him away to another spot in the training ground, leaving Caspar alone as he raised his arms as if to say, "Seriously?" The young woman paid him no attention, and eventually he let out an aggravated sigh and turned towards Felix. But before the second son of Bergliez could get the chance to walk up and challenge him to a duel, Kratos appeared from behind Felix and grabbed his attention.

"You are not performing adequately." His professor informed him.

Felix scowled at Kratos as he approached. "I'm still recovering, cut me some slack."

"From what, exactly?" Kratos frowned. "A duel you did not need to participate in?"

"It was training! Is this not what you've been doing to us?"

Kratos let out a patient, yet irritated grunt. "I have taught you to be strong, despite the pain. However, pain that hampers your ability to grow stronger is useless pain. The training you have engaged in two days prior was both self-serving and counterproductive."

"Oh, and so pushing me until I lose feeling in my hands is supposed to make me feel better?"

By that point, others were starting to take notice of the interaction, and Kratos could see some of the students staring at them. This in turn prompted the God of War to take a step toward Felix so that he was standing directly over him. With a disapproving glare, he looked down at the young Lion and spoke in a low voice.

"It is not my fault that you are in this position," Kratos said, his voice calm but stern. "You put yourself here by engaging in reckless trifles. If you are unable to keep up with your training, all you have to do is say so." Kratos continued, his tone growing even more intense. "However, if you ever disrespect me openly in front of the other students again, I will see to it that you never have the opportunity to do so again. Am I clear?"

Despite the intensity that radiated from the tall white brigand that everyone in their immediate vicinity could feel, Felix continued to return his professor's glare with a hard look, yet he nodded regardless. Satisfied, Kratos grunted approvingly before picking up the sword Felix had dropped earlier.

"Here," The God of War said as he handed it back to him. "I shall assist you until you are fully recovered. Now is ill time to lose focus, but we need to ensure you are training effectively."

Caspar watched as Felix reluctantly took the sword that was offered to him by the brigand, and the young man let out an audible "Tch" before shaking his way and stomped his way toward the main group where the rest of the students from all three houses had gathered.

"Man, this is so unfair!" Bergliez complained as he stopped next to Sylvain who was in the middle of his own lancing duel with Leonie. "How is it that you guys literally have the three best professors in the entire monastery, while we get stuck with someone like Manuela?"

"Mind your tongue, Caspar." Edelgard warned him as she fenced with Ferdinand. "While I understand your frustration, I will not tolerate you disrespecting our own professor so overtly."

Caspar threw his hands up in exasperation. "But it's true! The Golden Deer has the kid of a legendary mercenary as their teacher, and the Blue Lions not only have one, but two professors who are way overqualified. How is that fair?"

Hilda chimed in, smirking. "Oh, cheer up, Caspar. Aren't the seminars with Kratos enough for you?"

Caspar crossed his arms and shook his head. "The Blue Lions get way more time to train with him than everybody else. If I was allowed to transfer over to their class, I'd do it in a heartbeat."

Sylvain, taking a brief pause in his duel with Leonie, glanced over at Caspar. "You think it's that easy? Training with Kratos isn't exactly a walk in the park. The man's relentless."

"That's exactly what I want!" Caspar retorted. "I want to be pushed to my limits, to get stronger. I'm tired of feeling like I'm falling behind. And don't get me started on how Felix gets one-on-one training with him."

Leonie, panting slightly from her duel, added, "So then, why not ask for a transfer?"

"I already did!"

"And what did they say?"

Caspar let out a frustrated sigh. "Seteth told me that transferring isn't something that can be done on a whim. He said it's customary for students to remain in the house of their represented nation, and that I didn't have any justifiable reason to do so."

"And I believe that he is correct." Edelgard told him. "As it stands, you are getting along just fine without him."

Out of the corner of his eye, the blue-haired brawler spotted both Marianne and Dimitri in the far corner of the training ground, where Dimitri was showing the girl proper techniques in thrusting and parrying with the lance. "But what about her? How come Marianne gets to transfer but not me?"

"Marianne's case was an exception. Her transfer was approved due to specific personal circumstances and the belief that it would benefit her growth more significantly. It's not something that happens regularly, as Seteth had already explained to you."

He frowned, clearly unsatisfied with the explanation. "So what, I just have to stick it out and hope for the best?"

Edelgard nodded. "Yes, Caspar. Focus on making the most of the training you do have. Each professor has something valuable to offer. Manuela might not be Kratos, but she's still an experienced instructor."

"Very well said," Her opponent announced approvingly. "Just the response I'd expect from my rival."

"Oh, be silent, Ferdinand, and focus on trying to hit me."

Ferdinand smirked at her. "Your wish is my command."

Meanwhile, in the secluded corner of the training guard, Dimitri patiently gave Marianne the same instructions that Kratos had so diligently taught him in improving his fundamentals of wielding a spear.

"Remember, Marianne. You need to think of your weapon as an extension of yourself. The lance is one of the best spacing tools against your enemy in close combat, but should you ever find yourself up against the sharp side of one, you need to be able to anticipate their movements and counter effectively."

"A-are you sure that this is the best weapon of choice for me?" The priestess asked as she awkwardly held the wooden spear in her hands the way she'd been shown.

"Of course. If Professor Mimir believes it's worth learning for you, then I trust his judgment completely." He then stood opposite of her and got into a ready stance with his own lance. "Now, the first thing we need to do is work on your defense. It's a very simple trick, but it's quite effective. I'll act as the aggressor, and I want you to focus on deflecting my attacks, and then going in for the counter thrust. We'll start off slow, then slowly speed up at your own pace as we build up your confidence in your technique. Are you ready?"

From nearby, Marianne was aware of the flash of pink hair entering her peripheral vision, and she turned her attention away from Dimitri to see Hilda smiling brilliantly as she gave her friend a small wave and then two thumbs up. Seeing this caused the priestess to almost let out a smile of her own, but it ended up giving her the confidence she needed to hold the lance more firmly and confidently as she readied herself to match the same stance that the prince took in front of her.

"Yes. I am ready."

x-x-x

"Thanks again for allowing me to carry you around, Professor." Claude said as he carried Mimir's head by the string up the stairs towards the staff lounge.

"Aye, lad." Mimir told the Golden Deer's house leader with equal appreciation. "And thank you for giving me the opportunity to take a break from the school's library. Very few of the staff and much less any of the students had ever offered to take me around places besides me brother Kratos."

The young man looked down at the head in his right hand. "Well, I'm glad I can be of service. But I've always been curious, Mimir- what's it like, being an undead severed head?"

Mimir let out an amused chuckle. "Ah, it's a mixed bag, to be sure. On one hand, I miss the days when I had a body and could run around freely. There's something quite disheartening about losing the ability to stretch your legs or grasp something with your own hands. On the other hand, or rather the lack thereof, I've gained a new perspective. Immortality of sorts, and the ability to impart knowledge without the distractions of bodily needs or wondering when the next cough will be me last."

Claude nodded thoughtfully. "That's a fair point. But don't you ever get tired of it?"

Mimir sighed. "Aye, at times. But I've had time to come to terms with my situation. Though, truth be told, I've had my share of adventures, even in this form. But to say I don't miss me ol' goat legs would be entirely dishonest. And speaking of running around, where exactly are we headed, lad?"

"There's a few people around the monastery I'd like to speak to." Claude told him. "You realized it too, didn't you? About the real purpose behind that threat letter?"

"Aye, and it seems to me that everyone else working here in the monastery is aware of it as well. I see no reason to send out a calling card of sorts if the plan was to actually assassinate the Archbishop. Therefore, it must mean that the perpetrators are after something else instead; and the question is, what exactly."

"Bingo," The archer winked. "Teach and I had already decided to split up and figure out what kind of valuables Garreg Mach had lying around, and that was when I decided to swing by and enlist your help."

The Norse god hummed. "Well, you certainly came to the right head for that. Garreg Mach has a history steeped in relics and artifacts. If someone's planning a distraction with a threat to the Archbishop, then it's likely they're after something of great value."

"My thoughts exactly. But before we go any further…" Claude stopped midway down the hall before slipping in through the door leading to the infirmary and closed it behind him. Nobody was there, just as Claude had expected, and he raised Mimir's head so that he was now at eye-level with him. "My apologies, Professor, but there was something I was hoping to ask you in private."

Mimir, however, didn't look the slightest surprised by the house leader's actions as he said, "Ah, did you now?"

Claude nodded, looking somewhat regrettable about what he'd done. "I do. I apologize for having somewhat deceived you, but this was the only chance that I could get a one-on-one conversation with you."

"Lad," The head began, as though he were getting himself ready for another one of his lectures, "If I'd known that you were up to something nefarious, which I do know that you don't, I would never have agreed to be carried around with you in the first place." He then cleared his throat, or at least made a noise as if to do so despite not having one. "In the meantime, I'd first like to know what this is all about."

The young man couldn't help but laugh at the conclusion Mimir had made. "You catch on pretty quick, don't you?"

"Aye, there is a reason why they call me the smartest man alive."

Claude's smile widened, but his eyes turned serious. "Alright then, no point in hiding it now. There's just something I've been wanting to ask regarding you and Sir Kratos. I think it's obvious beyond any reasonable doubt that neither of you are from around here; or even from this world as a matter of fact. But the reason I bring this up is that I was hoping I could ask you to shed a bit of light on where exactly you guys came from."

"Well," The Norse god said after a moment's pause. "For me to answer that, it would depend on personal the questions are and what exactly you intend to do with that information."

"Nothing too personal, I promise. Or at least, I would hope they are not. Because just by looking at Sir Kratos, it's quite apparent that he's… well, he's seen a lot of things, you know what I mean? So my question is, what kind of world did you and him come from, and how did you manage to get through all of it the way that you did?"

Mimir contemplated Claude's question for a good long while, a small frown forming on his lips. "Laddy, I think that's about as personal as it's going to get as far as questions go, but as I said before, because I already know the type of person you are, I will at least humor you just a little bit.

"Things were not exactly sunshine and rainbows as far prosperity was concerned in the realms we once inhabited. The lands were harsh and unforgiving, ruled by those whose callousness and cruelty knew no bounds. Survival often meant facing trials that tested the very limits of one's strength and will. Kratos' upbringing in particular was one of constant battle and hardship. He was born into war, molded by it, and forced to endure trials that would break most men. Those he was forced to obey were as ruthless as they come."

Mimir's expression grew somber. "As for me, my choices led me down a path that ultimately cost me my body and my freedom. I sought to sit beside kings, sometimes sacrificing my own sense of morality to do so. But… It was Kratos who eventually came around and turned me into the man I am now."

Claude initially listened with great interest before doing so out of respect as the story went on. "And what about everyone else? Were they treated with the same injustice that both you and Sir Kratos had faced?"

"'Injustice?'" Mimir repeated, flabbergasted by the question. "Nay, lad. That is not the word I'd use to describe that kind of peril. While I won't go into any further detail, what I can say is that… things did not particularly end well in the land Kratos once hailed from. And truth be told, the same would have happened in me own realm, had he not shown up." His eyes had drifted off as he spoke, but then his eyes lit up upon remembering who exactly he was speaking to, and met Claude's gaze. "But the point is, lad, no matter how bad things may seem at the moment, or how bad they may get, always remember that there is always a path for a brighter future. I can see it in you that you wish to make the world a better place. Every choice, every action, and every word spoken is an opportunity to shape that future. It's up to you to seize those opportunities and help guide the world towards a better tomorrow."

Upon finishing his speech, an awkward silence loomed over the two until Mimir suddenly raised his voice in order to break up the tension. "Well," He said with a rather forceful cheer. "Hopefully that has answered your question, young Riegan. In the meantime, how's about we continue with our current mission and share more stories some other times, aye?"

This in turn prompts a chuckle out of Claude. "Aye-aye, Professor. We've got a lot of ground to cover, so we best get moving. But also… Thank you. For humoring me, even just for a little bit."

"Don't mention it, lad. Besides, just because you're not my student, that doesn't mean my door isn't open to the rest of ye knuckleheads."