Okay

I'm gonna be real here; this Chapter was a real doozie to write
I was actually so goddamn excited that I just straight up wrote this
After spending almost all my off day writing the chapter and after work sleepy time

Regardless, let's get this puppy moving

Disclaimer: I don't own RWBY

Chapter 14: Fangs and Claws

Blake and Jaune stepped from the vehicle, stern and ready. Men and women nodded their heads at the pair bowing and saluting. Gone were the red tinted shades and business suits and neck ties. Now, they wore black and grey camouflage urban combat fatigues with body armor strapped at the chest, knees and shoulders. Ammo bandoliers wrapped around their torsos and abdomens. Their fancy trilbies were replaced with combat helmets that were linked to their assault rifles and battle rifles. Upon their backs, power packs that generated an overshield were activated, protecting those who didn't have aura unlocked.

The two entered the building, dressed for combat. Blake's shoulders were covered in a pair of plasteel-carbon fiber reinforced pauldrons. Lightweight with the strength of titanium. Her abdomen was covered with a small five layered, tapering plate. Her back as well had a power pack that shielded her to accentuate her aura. Gambol Shroud hung over her shoulder, elastic strap waving in the breeze of the powerful air conditioning of Junior's once club, now headquarters.

More men and women saluted as they passed by them. While Junior's men, their men, were dressed in black and grey fatigues, Ankōshoku men and women had joined the rally wearing red and black urban combat fatigues beneath the same armor. Their men made the majority and a few of Greene Armaments' paramilitary companies decided to join the fray with tan and grey fatigues. At the head of that gathering, Colonel Anthony Greene stood with a beret and his military dress greens without armor.

Jaune nodded to every man and woman present. There were faces he immediately recognized in the headquarters, Melanie and Miltia were standing upon a stage that Junior was speaking at. Beside them, Junior's handpicked lieutenants, Rosemary, Jaune's huntress sister with more than enough accolades to earn the rank five times over, Carolina, the former Freelancer and Roux, the blind marksman. Funnily enough, they both were red headed – Roux had a long strand of red hair while Carolina was a full ginger. Of course, the Reds and Blues were there – Tucker had earned the spot, being that he was a damned good swordsman.

Simmons was on the far side, his rocket launcher on his back, wearing experimental combat armor. In fact, almost all the lieutenants did. Griff stood on the far end, of Simmons, avoiding the crowds and cheering – he honestly got to the rank by sheer chance. Sarge – oh Sarge. That old grizzled man was enjoying every second of this. The war he always wanted to be a part of and the cheers of heroes he always dreamed to hear. It was a little disheartening to hear his obsession for combat but it was an obsession Jaune was willing to feed so long as the man stayed loyal.

Just as the doors closed behind the two hunters in training, the entire room went silent. Junior stopped mid-sentence and looked to the man of the hour. Jaune stood tall, Crocea Mors magnetically attached to his spine. His armor was light and pristine with the lights of the rally reflecting off his pale armor and bronze accents. Around his waist, a black belt with bandolier pouches was locked with a blood-red sash flowing off his hip, reminiscent of his partner, Pyrrha Nikos. His pauldrons glowed almost, the accents almost making it seem like the Ursa heads were alive.

Walking along, Blake followed after him. The men and women gathered parted immediately, bowing and saluting, but Jaune could see some of the more grizzled warriors were giving him and Blake some confused looks. Others looked disappointed or even insulted. But after a stern glare from Colonel Greene, the looks disappeared and were replaced with indifference. That was something he'd be thankful for. Having men doubt his ability to lead and claim wouldn't do well for his plans. He and Blake charged up the steps of the stage, his blond hair now glowing in the dim lighting of the rally.

Behind the stage, machine-gun placements were manned, aimed for the ceiling windows and the entrance door, in preparation for whatever may come. The pillars were reinforced with plasteel, solidifying their sturdy position. Junior made introductions and soon enough, the large crowd of easily over a thousand, people gathered. Each one had come to this place to listen to him and follow his commands and the lieutenants, colonels and generals beneath him. They were his men and women he had to care for.

Memories of his coronation in Atlas flashed through his mind – the cheers and cries of allegiance were deafening then. At his coronation, almost the entire Kingdom of Atlas was present, thousands if not millions watched the ceremony. Now, he'd started from the bottom and knew that the loyalty he could instill would be greater than his own time period. These men and women were the foundation he would build his kingdom on – his new world. Smiling at the clapping, saluting and cheering troops, he saw men, women, human and Faunus gathered together in a unified cause and fighting force unlike any other.

Sighing as he pressed his weight against the podium, he popped his neck. "We are gathered here for one purpose. To protect our way of life – the lives of our families and friends. Each one of us know what will happen tonight – the White Fang has decided to steal from us. Us. We will defend our property, our Dust. We will teach the White Fang, and all the other terrorist or criminal organizations that seek to undermine our quest, that we are not to be trifled with. We will strike with terror and be swift. Do I make myself clear?"

"Yes sir!" All voices roared in unison.

Among the voices, he heard Blake and her fellow lieutenants cheer through the roars. Turning to face her, her ears tilted in delight before standing straight again. Carolina nodded her head with pride. Rosemary beamed a smile, swelling with pride for her little brother. Melanie and Miltia gazed at him starry-eyed. Roux, simply nodded at him, as blind as he was, he still somehow saw where every person was. Turning to face the rest of his forces, he released the podium and took a deep breath.

"Units One through Five will be joining us tonight." Jaune spoke once more, silencing the auditorium. "The rest of you will secure our positions in the industrial district. The White Fang undoubtedly have some safe houses in Vale's endless sea of warehouses. Scour territory we don't already own and claim it – evict the ones who own it, destroy any other syndicates that get in your way."

"Remember this." Jaune raised a fist. "From this night onward, we are no longer a criminal organization – we are not a syndicate nor are we brainless thugs. No. From this night forward, we are a force of war, a force of revolution. You are the King's Fist, my personal army. The Houses of Vale doubt what we do here, what I'm planning but after tonight, we will solidify our place in Vale and the world! The future of Vale is in our hands tonight – remember your training, remember your families and why you fight. Remember how the Valean Council wronged your families and legacies after Mountain Glenn. Remember the future you want for your life!"

"Because I swear this to you!" He roared, gaining cheers and howls of approval. "Vale will be ours – Remnant will be ours!"

Jaune and the commanding officers walked through the headquarters, armed to the teeth. The group stepped into an industrial elevator and was quickly lifted through the many floors that were added to Junior's once club. Many of the floors were still under construction but the command center and the first addition barracks were completed. It was a marvelous thing, now jutting past the various apartments and tenements that towered over the rundown red-light districts.

While he preferred men and women with training, most of the poor and poverty stricken in the projects of Vale flocked to his army, with the promise of shelter, food and a reason for life. They were rewarded handsomely with the basic amenities that they desired. A bigger smile grew on Jaune's face, Junior may have swallowed most of the criminal underworld, but he also gave back to the communities he 'liberated' by opening independent schooling institutions in the projects of Vale. While the adults joined the King's Fist, the children would learn important skills and vocational studies to heighten the chance of getting a job to get out of the projects.

Give them a purpose, they'll fight for you. Jaune learned this well enough when Remnant first fell apart. They followed him and Ruby because they had the most experience and were actual team leaders. Ruby had the silver eyes and he had his words and strategies. But then, Oscar/Ozpin arrived to reveal his heritage – the people had their reason to fight and rise up against the onslaught that was Salem. When they lost hope in the battlefields, their dwindling spirit was reignited by his cause and the crown he sported.

Sighing to himself, a hand grabbed his, fingers interlocking. Beside him, Blake had taken her place, staying close to him. He was so lost in his thoughts, he didn't notice her turning to face her fellow lieutenants. Each one of them gave her thumbs up and beaming smiles. Melanie and Miltia were a little peeved but smiled regardless. Rosemary actually almost clapped. Blake though, turned her attention to Junior who was fixing his necktie, trying to ignore the heat in her gaze. But before the heat could actually ignite, she smiled at Junior and nodded her head in thanks before whipping around, cat ears dancing.

It surprised everyone present that Blake even had the courage to jump on Jaune the way she did. Of course, when Jaune was knocked out and Junior came by with their washed clothes and new yukata for her to wear, she told him everything along with Carolina and Rosemary, who in turn told the rest of the lieutenants. Of course, Melanie and Miltia weren't too happy with the budding relationship between the King and his Faunus lover, but they were happy for their friend. Good thing too, they were beating around the bush too much and it was starting to get aggravating.

The elevator came to a shuddering halt, stopping completely in its tracks. The massive doors hissed before sliding away to reveal the highest floor of the HQ. It was an incomplete but it was a functioning aircraft hangar that doubled as the control room. Inside, hanging from the ceiling, LAHAT, Low Altitude Heavy Assault Transport craft, affectionately called Levies for short. They were gorgeous things that hummed silently thanks to Dust powered repulsor-engines designed in tandem between GreeneTek – the scientific, weapons and vehicular research division of Greene Armament and the SDC from Atlas.

Upon the tops of each craft, a pair of high-powered mass-driver, high-explosive JCA-Crimson Dust missile launchers were armed, affectionately called 'the Jackass' by the troops. Hanging below both wings, four light air-to-air missile launchers hung for any in-flight targets. On either side of the transport bay, two high-powered miniguns hung and were manned by infantry and there were another two at the front of the aircraft that were manned by the weapons pilot in the cockpit. A third weapon, a twenty-millimeter tri-barreled cannon peered from the rear of each Levy, capable of firing incendiary rounds and explosive rounds, every five and nine bullets fired respectively.

Hanging from the hangar's ceiling, the first shipment of EcruTech Arms, a Vacuoan arms company, built aircraft named Hornets. Unlike the Levies that were powered off repulsor-engines, the Hornet was an attack VTOL made for the sole purpose of assault and reconnaissance. Unlike the Levies, the Hornet was far more versatile in regards to ground-to-air interdiction and air support. Thus far, they remained on the shelf to collect dust. The pilots that were chosen to fly such marvelous machines were still filling out flight hours and training to operate the vehicles. While they flew and operated much like Bullheads, Hornets were piloted by a single person, rather than two. The steering wheels were replaced with a single joystick that held several buttons and of course, the platforms on either side of the craft that allowed for men to stand, sit and hang from to fire down.

Jaune smiled at his air power. The LAHAT had a carrying capacity of thirty men; at most. It moved at full capacity, at a staggering one hundred kilometers per hour, at cruising speed. It could do more than carry infantry though. Thanks to the deals made by Junior with some companies in Vacuo, the AT-TE that he spoke of was getting a specialized LAHAT to carry the monstrous beauties into battle. Sadly, the Ankōshoku were still keeping their operations and new airship designs under wraps, dead set on making the revelation a surprise for the King of Vale.

Walking from the elevator, several soldiers were seen, marching or jogging along the hangar, carrying supplies and other necessities for the battle that night. LAHAT craft that were available – ten – were fueled and loaded with bullets and missiles to full capacity. Sergeants and Majors watched the privates and corporals prepare. Company lieutenants lead their companies through morning exercises, calling cadence runs through the hangar bay since it was the largest, open indoor space they could find. After all; the entire operation was a secret.

As far as the neighbors officially knew, the tenement expansion was required for the projects of Vale with the sudden influx of refugees all across Sanus. The Grimm threat was getting worse as the months passed by. Greater Grimm were apparently spawning creatures many know nothing about and the devastation was absolute for the villages and cities out of the Kingdom's reach. Hundreds of thousands of people flooded the city as refugees, being cooped up in the projects away from Vale Proper. Tourists and foreign dignitaries wouldn't like seeing filth flooding the good streets of Vale after all.

It angered Jaune so much to even think the Valean Council – the circle of leaders his own father and mother were on – would care so little of refugees. But every time he'd descend to that thought, Rosemary would remind him that the Houses Arc and Winchester have lost prestige and power since the end of the Faunus Revolution and now smaller Houses, younger Houses were rising in the Council, gaining support of the more corrupt members. The suffering was brought upon by those driven by greed and lust for power. Something that Jaune despised.

He hated men who thought so lowly of his fellow people, inhabitants of Remnant. Life was a precious thing that shouldn't be thrown away for the sake of monetary compensation. It disgusted him that such people run the Kingdom instead of a wise and strong King. It enraged him especially that they've done nothing but toss the refugees, mostly women and children, into the projects where they have to mostly scrape by, by doing immoral things just to put food on the table. The thought alone made him sick to his stomach of the things they're being forced to do just to see another sunrise.

The refugees only continued to grow and as such, the tenements and apartments grew. Giving the headquarters the perfect cover for expansion. The great towers rose almost one hundred stories and there were several of these massive tenements with several more already undergoing renovation and expansion to rise to the sky. The streets were flooded with men and women, dirty and malnourished. There weren't enough homes for them all. But soon enough; once the great headquarters were finished and the control room had expanded its signal tower, the entirety of Vale and Mountain Glenn would be within their range. Even the coastal cities of Dale, Veridian Hollow and Glade were within range. Then he could really make lasting change.

He and the lieutenants walked up the steel steps, watching sparks fly and drop to the floor below. Missiles were loaded, metal plates were welded and supplies were stacked. The men and women were diligent and inspired by their King's speech. King's Fist had a nice ring to it after all. They stopped at a steel door and after Jaune pressed his hand into the aura siphon, the door hissed and slid open, hissing once again in doing so.

Piling into the room, glass panes were seen with holographic images of the city schematics – planning out escape routes to various cities and hideouts and safe havens within Sanus for civilians should a White Fang invasion, terrorist invasion or worse, Grimm invasion, happen. He was proud that Junior even considered to do so. In the center of the room, Anthony Greene stood, scratching his beard. Beside him, Sergeant-Major Marius Blanche, a paramilitary operator loyal to the Greene family crossed his arms over his chest.

They were staring at a three-dimensional map of Vale's docks, that displayed every detail. Every road painstakingly researched and recreated in a computer simulation. Working with what little information Tarsier Squadron managed to send before being ousted and executed, the White Fang was going to attack with Bullheads and a series of transports coming by sea. The amount of Fang operators ranged from fifty to two hundred moving in and out of the docks. It was a lot of Dust they were planning to steal after all. If there was anything that Blake and Tarsier Squadron could manage to agree on, the White Fang didn't half-ass their plans.

"General, lieutenants, Your Grace!" Sergeant-Major Blanche stood erect with a strong salute. "Damn good speech sir, the men in the hangar bay were inspired beyond belief. Though we could do better with quality speakers."

"A problem for another time." Anthony sighed with a laugh. "Your Grace, we've concocted a plan to move on the White Fang."

"Let me guess…" Jaune walked up to the strategy table. "We leave our Dust unprotected until the White Fang start latching. Once they've begun to extract, we come in, guns blazing and spring our ambush. Levies come in firing their Jackass missiles taking out the bullhead fleet the Fang have. Then, Levies drop troops to secure the field and our air support moves to the shore to make it harder for our friends from the sea to land."

"Once we achieve momentum, we proceed to phase two – destroying their advance and capturing Roman Torchwick." Jaune smiled.

The commanding officers stared at the king with wide eyes. Blake smiled at his mind and the rest of the Lieutenants stared with awe. It was then that Anthony Greene smirked. "You're not the King for nothing, after all. Your Grace, Tarsier Squadron said the Fang's operation would start sometime after nineteen-hundred. What will we do until then?"

"Prepare." Jaune took a deep breath. "From what I know of Roman Torchwick, he's an elusive man. I'm surprised he's not secretly a snake Faunus with how slippery he is. Every attempt thus far was met with crippling, depressing failure. He is our hardest enemy to capture and most likely ratted Tarsier Squadron out to Adam Taurus. Get this order out to the infantry."

"Despite having overshields, they are still vulnerable. Remind them that they are still killable." Jaune frowned. "The White Fang have allies that supply them with state of the art weaponry – most likely Roman, given he knows the right people. Tell them that their job is to protect the Dust and making sure that the situation doesn't escalate to a full-scale battle. The lieutenant's jobs are to apprehend Torchwick and any strongmen that the White Fang may send along with him."

"More specifically, Carolina, Rosemary and Blake." Jaune spoke. "They will join me in battling him. Roux, the Malachite twins and the Reds and Blues, will lead the assault and defend the Dust. Roux, I know you won't fail me. Tucker, Sarge – don't do anything stupid. Melanie, Miltia, remember – the men around you are not disposable. They aren't fodder. They are men and women with families that depend on them. All of you – this is a real battle, a real fight. Blood will be spilt on both sides."

"It's unavoidable." Jaune continued. "But it is up to us – those men and women look up to us. We are their commanding officers and leaders. Their lives are in our hands, and I'll be damned if their lives are thrown away senselessly tonight. No risky maneuvers, no risky charges. This is our proving ground, boys and girls. We will not throw away the work we've put in the last few months, tonight."

"Hmm…" A dark voice whispered to herself. "Tell Dr. Watts to gather team RRGE."

A Grimm seer clicked and hovered away, releasing its abhorrent sound as it drifted. The doors behind it closed as it disappeared. She smirked to herself, rising from her deadwood throne. Walking along to the balcony that watched the dead world around her, entire formations of men and Faunus, corrupted by Grimm parasites moved in tandem, lockstep and file. At the front of the mass of formations, a man held a spear and shoved it forward, swinging it back and shoving it forward once again.

The corruptions followed after him, like zombies attracted to a carrion. They weren't sluggish though; they were strong and steadfast. Their feet were steady and their arms like stone. But they weren't heavy in their movements – in fact, they were moving as masterfully as the man in front. His eyes glowed a harsh yellow coloring with slit pupils. His sclera was no longer white, and instead a dark, sickening purple. Veins and dark markings were visible on his pale skin, dancing beneath his flesh. While he was not part of Team WTCH, Salem's inner circle, he was a valuable retainer.

He was a man named Hanzo, eaten by a Nevermore almost ten years ago. He was spat back up after clawing at the Grimm's stomach for weeks and eating its flesh from within, causing his corruption. Consumption of Grimm flesh normally caused death, but the strong-willed turn into something greater. Something that even Greater Grimm couldn't meet with all their power. Grimm were far from mindless but they lacked something, this thing called humanity.

She didn't mean the race or species, she meant the nature. The nature of being, the mentality of thought, the ceaseless activity and creativity. The Grimm were created for one thing – destruction. New Grimm were born every day with the same reason or being – destruction. But this man, Hanzo, he was once a human, much like how she herself was once a woman. He was protecting his family in Anima, fighting the ancient Nuckelavee. As he was wounded, a Nevermore came to claim him and the rest was history.

He became a Yūrei.

Neither man, nor Grimm. He was adrift between serenity and insanity; between peace and rage. Hate for the Grimm, hate for the people who forgot him. He was a man corrupted by his own hubris, his own honor. Salem smiled brighter – he wasn't the only Yūrei she had. In fact, she had several that were from the many different ages of human and Faunus-kind. Salem didn't like to throw broken toys – rather, she preferred to fix them. Why waste potential when you can bend it to fit your needs?

Turning her head, after many minutes of mental exposition, she found Arthur Watts standing with a group of Yūrei. One had large black antlers with white swirls etched into the extensions. She wore pauldrons with leather straps bound together in the center with a silver buckle. On her hips, a pair of Dust shot revolvers were holstered. Her most defining feature, her hair was a fiery crimson and her eyes were a bleeding green. The sclera matched that of Hanzo's, a sickening purple. Veins and dark cracks in her flesh were visible to see upon her pale white porcelain skin.

Beside her, a tall, lanky man stood. He had short black hair with a deep scar crawling from his hairline through his eye and to his jaw. His left eye was a pale white, signifying its uselessness and his right eye was a murky blue, almost as if it were an ocean filled with carcasses. His sclera was a dark purple with the markings cracking across his pale skin resembling a darker navy blue. He too wore pauldrons, but he also wore a simple breastplate without any fancy designs. Over his shoulder, an assault rifle that doubled as an energy powered sabre slung lazily.

At the end of the trio, another man was hunched over, his black hair hanging to cover his face. It had grey streaks and was styled in a way that reminded Salem of a dusty old crow. He wore body armor that accentuated his hunched back, adding extra armor to his back in such a way, that it bulged like a turtle's shell. His arms hung loose with titanium blades, sharp and glistening, exposed and drawn out. While his face was covered by his bangs, the cracks couldn't be hidden. His compatriots covered their arms with thick sleeves and armor, but this man didn't. His arms were covered in the same dark markings, but they were black, almost like actual cracks into his skin. He wore them proudly as a sign of his ascension.

They were the members of team RRGE, Watts' own disciples and personal assault team. Their leader, Arson Rom, was busy finding more criminals to bring to the fold. That left Reggie Teale the handgun/gunslinger specialist, Byz Gala, the medium-close range specialist and Eton, the heavy of the team that specialized in brutalization and tanking damage. They were a vicious team made of a pair of street rats, a religious zealot who self-harms and a former fiercely abused prostitute to the point of physical debilitation. Their hate and rage, the anger they felt towards the world turned them into some of the strongest Yūrei Salem had in her growing army. And she would be damned if she let Cinder's pawn get captured tonight.

"The King of Vale rears his claws and prepares to strike." Salem began. "Watts, I understand you wish to leave the Grimm lands and fight on the front lines, but I assure you, your time will come. The remainder of team RRGE will supplement Cinder's operation in Vale. She has been recalled her to receive further orders. Reggie, you are in command – reassemble Cinder's board and prepare the pieces. The King of Vale knows mine and Cinder's movements, but he won't know yours. Do what you must to distract him – and I mean, do what you must. The King must not, under any circumstances acquire Roman Torchwick."

"As you wish, mistress." The antlered Faunus bowed her head in reverence. Eton, the armored hunchback bowed as best as he could, wincing at his aching bones. Salem reached forward, placing a hand on his face, caressing his covered features. She gave him a soothing look, smiling softly as her thumb wiped his black pained tears trailing down his porcelain features.

"Now, Eton, my child." She knelt to see him face-to-face. "What did I say about bowing to me? You will hurt your spine if you bend any further. Your master, Dr. Watts is doing what he can to negate the pain you feel, don't undo the years of work he'd already accomplished. For your team's sake, and for yours."

"Y-Yes, mistress…" Eton bowed his head at least, hiding the shame he felt.

"Now, go." She waved. A deep maroon and crimson portal, swirling and writhing opened behind the teammates. One by one they turned to jump into the portal. "Make sure you make the King suffer."

Jaune stood in front of his mirror, wiping his face for the umpteenth time. His sapphire eyes were glowing with a series of greens, blues, reds, pinks and now, amber. He couldn't figure out what was happening with his features, but he also felt something else growing within his soul, almost like it was amplified. He stretched and found that his body wasn't sore. He twisted, and felt his bones pop without leaving an empty feeling in its wake. He raised his hands, staring at the aura swirling within, ranging colors and intensity, each one equally in domination over the other, in a circle of serenity.

Red, black, crimson, orange, green, pink and white circled each other like an artist's palette. The colors merged to create new ones, bending and writhing, contorting and separating. It must the semblances he carried within him, the aura he was given. But he knew red belonged to Pyrrha, pink to Ren, crimson to Yang, orange was Cardin's, green was owned by Ozpin and white was his native aura color. But whose was black? It just made no sense at all. He didn't make a single aura transfer with anyone since the Emerald Forest during initiation. Staring at his reflection, he sighed, running his hands through his blond hair.

He was shirtless again wearing nothing but joggers and boxers beneath. Brushing his teeth for the afternoon, he walked from the bathroom and into his personal room. Soundproofed and private. It had the best locks money can buy and security systems in place to make sure no one walks in on him and his private sessions. He found Blake reading a book in his bed, wearing her yukata but without the obi. It hung loose against her skin, revealing a lot for the eye to see. She leaned lazily in the bed against the headboard, flipping through pages of her favorite book, ears bending down and up, twisting and actually curling as the moments passed and the pages were turned.

She looked beautiful.

Jaune admired every curve and feature of the Faunus. Even in his own time, he never had the balls to muster up a conversation with the Faunus. Every time he did, she'd confuse him for Sun. Damn blond haired and blue-eyed protagonists – why did they all look the same to uncaring individuals. Jaune laughed to himself as he poured a glass of whiskey. Sipping away, his thoughts remained on the cat Faunus, reading away as if the world was non-existent.

In his timeline, she never cared for him more than a passing glance. The only time she ever truly worried for him was when he came back, sobbing over Pyrrha's death. Then after the Fall, when she arrived in Haven, she grew close to him, almost like a best friend. He couldn't venture any further because Salem arrived and used the Relic of Destruction to sever Anima from the realm of the living and drowned the entire continent. He could remember Blake throwing him into the air, using Gambol Shroud, using one of her shadow clones to save him while she herself fell into the ocean waters. Jaune never got to say thank you to her.

But even though she never cared for him, he cared for her a lot. He always did and always will – especially now. He watched her grow as a person and a huntress. Her beauty was alluring and almost impossible. For a woman who supposedly grew up outside the Kingdoms and in the Wilds, she kept her physical appearance in the best possible shape. Thick, muscled thighs, a large round butt, flat stomach and a chest slightly smaller than Yang's. She had secrets that she deigned from sharing and it turned out, she was in fact speaking the truth – just not the whole truth.

Shaking his head from his thoughts, the king took one more sip of his whiskery before setting the glass down. One leg crossed over the other, shoeless. His left arm rested on the table while his right rested in his lap, sapphire eyes locked with Blake's insanely addictive figure. He wanted to get up and grab her and ravish her all afternoon until the mission.

Her golden-amber eyes practically glowed in the dim, late afternoon light. Much like her eyes, and completely contradictory to her usual get up, her yukata was a gold colored silk with actual golden accents against the hem and sleeves. With the sunlight peering through the barely draped windows, the rays reflected off her beautiful yukata, lighting up the room in a twilight glare that screamed aesthetic and carried a mythic aura.

It was then that he noticed something.

Blake wasn't wearing a bra or panties.

"B-Blake…?" Jaune gave her a questioning gaze. "Y-You're not…"

"I know." She said without looking up from her book. In fact, she turned another page. "I'm just waiting for you."

"For me?"

Flipping another page, she smiled deeply, a blush forming on her pale face. "Of course…what's better than sex before battle?"

"I feel like I've unlocked something within you…"

"Oh, don't worry, Jauney…" Blake finally shut her book.

Shaking her shoulders, the silk yukata fell free, piling against her arms, covering her breasts and erect nipples. She rubbed her bare, hairless legs together, causing a burning blush to grow on the blond's face. Jaune nearly jumped but reined himself to be steady and calm. He'd slept with her countless times in the last three days. He'd had more sex than he'd ever even dreamed of with Blake – in this timeline and his own.

Suddenly, she rose from the bed, yukata unable to hide her bouncing breasts. His eyes trailed to her own, staring aimlessly. She stopped just in front of him, noticing the massive bulge in his joggers. Licking her lips like a feline in heat, she reached down, pulling him from his seat. With shaky hands, she led him to the bed with a fiery red blush.

"C'mon, King." She smirked. "You can't unlock something that's already open….fuck me like it's my last night, Jaune – oh~!"

So this is just the buildup chapter to the next
The Debacle of the Docks!

Now onto Team RRGE (Team Rage if you couldn't tell lol)
It's something I've decided to create because I find it highly unfortunate
That Salem doesn't have an army and relies solely on Grimm
mindless, fodder basically
It kinda rustles my jimmies!
where're the bad huntsmen who've strayed from the righteous path?

Anyway, Yurei means Ghost in Japanese, fitting for men and women
Who become one in this story.

Speaking of Yurei,
Arson and Byz are the street rats
Reggie is the zealot
Eton is the former prostitute if that wasn't clear
(In regards to the color naming rule; Arson is a criminal act regarding fire.
Byz is short for Byzantium, Reggie is short for Regalia and Eton is a shade of blue)

So, Team RRGE is on the way to Vale through portals n shiet
Thanks Raven LOL

Anyway!
REVIEW PLEASE, follow and fav too!

Ja ne!

gottahavekyuubi