((In the meantime...))
Out in the disused strip mine, the Professor hobbled to a spot toward the far outer edge, so as not to be in anyone's way, and to avoid accidentally damaging anything while he trained.
His bandaged hands hampered his dexterity as he practiced his slashes, jabs, and blocks, and a few flourishes sent the heavy-ended staff flying out of his grip. The balance was slightly off, but he could make do, as he had trained with similar long-handle bladed weapons.
As he went through the motions of his kata, he thought about Sakura's absolute distaste for the Order. She didn't realize that the Order had given him shelter and raised him. The Order trained him in martial arts; many of the monks were quite skilled in hand-to-hand combat. While aggression was frowned upon, the Order knew that when one's back was against the wall, one would need to be able to defend themselves.
The Professor stepped forward with a sharp forward jab, then raised the staff, rocked to his back foot, and used the momentum of the staff's weighted end to spin into a downward slash. His footwork was stiff and his handling clunky, though that was largely due to his injuries.