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Claude watched her progress through the port from atop his wyvern.
Even after being dead for five years she could still cut through a battlefield like a hot knife through butter.
Don’t get him wrong, seeing that Teach was still alive after all this time felt like a healing balm to his soul after spending so much of it trying to keep the Alliance together for the past five years.
Claude had heard about how Teach had been buried under rubble towards the end of Edelgard’s assault on Garreg Mach at the beginning of the war. He’d either seen or heard rumors of how all of his fellow students had reacted to the news that not even her body was found after the battle.
He was genuinely happy that she was alive.
But what happened to Ignatz kinda put a bit of a damper on those feelings.
Claude watched as Teach had implacably worked her way through the walled portion of Derdriu’s port, straight into the small square at its center. Which just happened to be toward where Hilda was waiting, ready to defend her home country’s capital.
And Hilda was strong, she’d received training from the Officers Academy, the same as him. Hilda stood ahead of almost any other soldier you could find on the battlefield, and she could hold her own most of the other students at during their time at the Academy. At least, whenever she could be bothered to take her training seriously she could.
Hilda was nothing to sneeze at when she decided a fight was worth her time.
And Claude has never seen Hilda more serious than when they’d gotten word that Edelgard and Teach were marching toward the Alliance’s capital city.
Before the battle, before everyone had taken their places within the port, Claude tried to think of some advice, some plan, some strategy, for himself and for Hilda, on how to win against Teach. He had thought back on the interhouse practical trainings she had taught, the mock battles
Teach had participated in, he had even thought back to that night that the house leaders had first met her.
But all that did was remind him of the fact that Byleth, daughter of the Blade Breaker, also known as the Ashen Ghost, was more a force of nature than a soldier on the battlefield.
So he didn’t-couldn’t give Hilda any advice on how to win against Teach. The only possible thing he could think of wouldn’t work for someone who fought up close and personal like Hilda, that’s where Teach flourished in a fight. So Claude just wished her luck and could only hope that the past five years had made Teach a bit rusty.
He should have known after all these years of having to make his own luck, mostly through schemes and underhanded tricks, that just wishing for it would never really work for someone like him.
And so, watching good ol’ Teach strike one of his oldest friends down and see her kneel over Hilda’s body as she bled out kind of killed any hope that Teach had gotten rusty after her disappearance. It also hurt his heart in a way he hadn’t felt in a long time, Hilda was supposed to have retreated as soon as the battle started to look bad, but she hadn’t.
Claude could do nothing but watch the battle unfold from atop his wyvern, flying high in the sky so as to be visible to both his allies and enemies, Claude could hear that old bastard Nadir yelling a joyful battlecry as Hubert brought his own retinue onto the Almiran ships.
All of that paled in comparison to how Teach was now marching toward Claude’s place near the water line. After fighting Hilda, she had left her allies, who were now taking over the rest of the port by themselves, while she alone began to head in his direction.
Heading closer to the water and open air, where Teach will have no cover from his or his archers arrows, an open space where he can fly and shoot to his heart's content while she would be stuck on the ground. Claude had specifically chosen to station himself here because of this, to give himself the advantage against any who would make it all the way to him.
He still felt like that wouldn’t matter against Teach though.
The archers he had surrounded himself with on his little island saw her leave the walls behind, striding alone toward them.
Seeing his soldiers tense he began being the leader he was meant to be. “Archers!” Claude called out, fitting an arrow into Filnaught’s string and feeling the relic’s power awaken.
“DRAW!”
The small battalion drew their bows in sync, ready to bombard his old academy Professor.
And even in the face of this, Teach marched forward at the same determined pace, implacable with a face shaded from view by her hair, undoubtedly hiding the ever present cool expression she’s maintained ever since Claude had met her.
Claude had a moment's hesitation before mentally shaking himself. Him and Teach were on opposite sides, and she’d taught him and every other student she’d taught at the Academy to never hesitate against any opponent.
He took a deep breath, fortifying himself.
“FIRE!”
Claude held his shot, but the rest of his men let loose their arrows at the Ashen Ghost, who’s steps had not faltered in the slightest at twang of their bows.
The arrows did not quite blot out the sun, he had made sure that the rest of the city was more manned instead of oversaturating his personal guard, but it was a close thing. Especially since it was all aimed at one person.
Claude watched as Teach raised the Sword of the Creator, now glowing with energy, and then sliced through the air in a diagonal slash, extending the blade and letting loose a torrent of pure force that knocked all of the arrows off course as the blast barrelled through the air unimpeded and hit some of his soldiers.
He felt chills at the display before releasing his own arrow at his old Teacher, filled to the brim with the power of his family’s relic, it arched toward Teach as she waited for her weapon to link back up with itself, the moment she was most vulnerable.
This was the only plan he could think of that had a chance against her. An underhanded trick, but Teach herself had told him that any trick is fair game in a fight to the death.
It was something that never would have worked with Hilda because Teach never would have left herself defenseless like this if she was expecting a fight in close quarters. But using the Sword of the Creator’s power to defend herself against a bombardment of arrows was something the old mercenary would think to do, he’d heard from Bernadette that she had done it during one of their missions.
The shot flew towards her, faster and more powerful than any arrow or even magic spell had any right to be. But something was wrong, Teach must have already been in motion before he had released the arrow and deftly sidestepped it. The ancient, magical attack doing nothing but blowing back her hair as it embedded itself in the ground behind her. Like she had known his intentions before he had even acted and where the arrow was supposed to go.
Teach continued her walk over the slim bridge connecting his chosen arena and the main area of the port, the soldiers around Claude looked toward him for guidance, no doubt terrified from the display of power but too loyal to turn tail and leave him to his fate.
But Claude was too distracted to notice his soldiers shuffling nervously around him as the Ashen Ghost made her way toward their leader.
Claude didn’t notice this because the attack had finally blown Byleth’s hair out of her face, and he could finally see the tear tracks that marred her cheeks.
It’s probably the most emotional he’s ever seen the Professor. He’d heard that she had cried when Jeralt was killed, but he wasn’t present for that, and the cold, depressed state she had adopted immediately afterward hardly counted as she seemed to be as much a ghost than a kid grieving their father’s death.
But Teach had fresh tears flowing down her face as she moved toward where Claude’s wyvern was hovering in the air. She turned a wet, angry glare to any soldier who looked like they were even thinking about getting in her way.
She stopped within yelling distance before raising her voice to speak with him. A voice meant for battlefield commands contained not a single tremble as she addressed him.
“If it means anything, I’m sorry Claude. For everything.” He knew she was talking about what had happened to Ignatz and Hilda. That she might even be referring to how she didn’t take in his house when she became a professor.
Teach raised her sword, readying herself in a fighting stance so familiar to him, the soldiers staying far away from her and Claude in a loose ring. They must have realised how futile trying to fight her would be and thus left it to their Lord.
“And I’m sorry that it came to this Teach.” And he meant it, even when she picked the Black Eagles over his own house, Claude had nothing but respect for the Professor.
Teach shook her head, tears still falling, “I always knew that being a teacher would be so much more painful than being a mercenary.” She gave him a teary, meaningful look. “You have grown up so beautifully, and I am so proud of you.”
Claude knocked another arrow into Filnaught as his wyvern lowered its hover closer to the ground. “Thanks Teach, that means a lot coming from you.”
He saw his old professor tense before dashing toward him and then the fight of his life was on.