Didn't manage to get this one to College Fool, as per the new deadline. Why is it that I like to mention this whenever it happens (as some people do ask), well, it's because I don't want people to think College Fool is a bad beta if there are any mistakes. :D

Whenever I don't get it to CF, I try to make it clear that any spelling mistakes and the like are mine.


Beta: College Fool

Cover Art: Pachumaster

Chapter 18


The ship we'd been assigned to left at dawn, as the Shopping Guild had warned. Thankfully we'd been there early, in time to meet Captain Brun – a bear faunus who was also a bear of a man, thick set and with bulging muscles. One of his ears, a bear-like one in honour to his faunus heritage, had been cut clean off. When Yang asked if it was by a Grimm, she'd been left open-mouthed when the Captain laughed and proclaimed it a whore who'd lost her control during an orgasm. When he asked if she wanted a first-hand demonstration, the Brawler fled with a red face, much to the hilarity of the other sailors.

That had been three days ago, and since then we'd crossed much of the open sea. The nights were long, the days longer, but the journey had been free of storms – something I'd caught the Sailors thanking the stars for. There wasn't much else I caught, unfortunately, thanks to the vomit which regularly spewed from my lips.

"Still?" Ren sighed, one hand on my back as he rubbed away. "It's been three days, Jaune. How can you not have developed your sea legs by now?"

"Probably because he spends most of his time on his knees," Nora laughed. "You should run around to keep fit. Pyrrha and Yang did laps of the ship this morning."

The taste of sick lingered in my mouth but supplies of water were too low to frivolously use to wash it away. I had to swallow it and soldier on with a grimace. "I can barely stand up straight," I groaned. "Let alone run around. I don't want to end up cleaning the deck again."

"Then make sure it all goes overboard," Ren advised. "If the Captain sees you being sick in your room again… well, you'll be cleaning it up."

Captain Brun was a fair man… that was about all I could say before the frustrated grumbling came forth. Fair, he might be but sympathetic he was not. It didn't matter that I suffered or that I didn't mean to. For every drop of sick I spilled, I got a bucket and a tub of sea salt with some strange soap that smelled like greasy animal fat. That stuff made me feel sick too, though Pyrrha had been quick to assure it wasn't just me on that front. It smelled evil.

"How long until we get to Atlas?" I asked.

"The Captain won't say for sure. We're close, though." Ren added when he saw my horror. "I talked to one of the other sailors and he said we're less than a day out now, if the good winds continue."

"We're at the mercy of the seas, argh!" Nora made a piratical sound at the end. I'd yet to hear any of the sailors say anything like that, and each time the Barbarian did, they seemed to roll their eyes. Still, an amused Nora was a content Nora, and with the veritable cabin fever some of them were getting, I just counted it lucky she hadn't started a fight.

I didn't have the time to develop cabin fever myself, of course, being too busy removing my body of any food that entered it, but the others weren't so lucky. We had one room between us and even that was small. At the inn, it had seemed enough, but here – for three days straight with little else to do, the confines had become pressing indeed. Arguments weren't uncommon and although Yang and Ruby had gotten into one familial spat the other day, it was Weiss and Blake who caused the biggest stir and nearly necessitated intervention.

Blake hadn't returned to the room since and slept outside now, or in the storerooms I had to assume. It wasn't like she would talk to me.

Three days… three whole days of stinking silence, dirty looks and arguments. Frankly, I couldn't wait to reach Atlas, no matter what horrors awaited us. It couldn't be worse than this. And it's not like I can even do anything, since every time I try, I get stuck with cleaning duty.

Ren must have noticed my frustration and guessed my thoughts, though given what we'd all seen, it wouldn't have been hard. "Things will get easier once we reach land," he promised. "Even when we were back in the guild hall, we could still go and stretch our legs if we wanted to. There was always somewhere we could go to be alone."

"You're handling it well enough," I pointed out, "Care to share your secret?"

Ren shrugged. "It's not something I could teach or share. It's more something I was born with."

I glanced up to him, but his face was as inscrutable as ever. "Passive?" I guessed, and he nodded once. Well damn… that was unfair. His Passive probably wasn't `immunity to cabin fever`, but no doubt this was an added benefit of whatever it was. He didn't go into detail, probably because he knew I'd interrupt it with some vomit.

"What's the argument of the day about?" I sighed.

"Ruby's been desperate to go running," Nora reported. "The Sailors didn't want her distracting them so she decided to jog around the room, but the ship hit a wave and she fell on top of Pyrrha and knocked her against a wall. Pyrrha got angry, Yang got involved…" Nora trailed off as though to say the rest was obvious. It really was.

"Didn't expect Pyrrha to be involved."

"It's getting to all of us," Ren shrugged.

"Except you."

"Except me."

I might have grumbled the word `cheater` under my breath. Ren's small smirk said he'd heard it, the asshole, but even immunity to the irritation that gripped us didn't make him immune to the fallout. That was probably why he'd chosen to spend time with me. I doubted it was for any other reason… we were friends, but it took a certain kind of desperation to sit downwind of someone chucking their guts over the side of a ship.

"Some of these arguments need to be fixed before we arrive in Atlas," Ren said suddenly. "We're going to be graded on this Quest, and I'm not sure it will go well if we present a divided front."

"Makes sense," I grumbled. "Why bring it up to me? I'm too sick to argue with anyone."

"We might be docking tonight. These fights, for whatever they're about, need to end before then. I was hoping you would help with that."

Despair washed over me. Ren was right, of course, and it wasn't like I wanted leave it all to him. Even so, I felt sick and miserable and the last thing I wanted was to wade into some dispute between the others. "What do you want me to do?" I sighed. "I can barely speak to anyone without being sick. What use am I going to be?"

"Well, that ought to make them less likely to get angry with you."

Nora giggled at her friend's deadpan response. I was less enthralled, and instead spared him a baleful glare from the corner of one eye. The young Monk sighed and looked towards the sky. His green robes fluttered in the stiff, sea breeze, but when he looked back down, his pink eyes were stern.

"Nora can work on fixing the fight between Pyrrha, Yang and Ruby," he said, "That one's new and I'm fairly sure none of them are truly keen on holding a grudge, but Weiss and Blake are another matter entirely. There's bad blood there and it goes deeper than your typical Class rivalries."

"Class rivalries?"

"An Assassin is a Mage's natural enemy," Nora explained. "Mages are bad at close combat but have all sorts of nasty tricks to stop someone like me getting close. Blake, though? She can sneak up and stick a knife through Weiss' throat before she ever realises she's there."

"It doesn't matter that she probably wouldn't," Ren said when he saw my mouth open. "It's Class problems. Everyone has them and it's just how things are. Don't tell me you haven't noticed Winchester doing the same with you?"

"Cardin?" I asked, confused. "Well, I mean he insults me after every fight we have, but I thought he was just an asshole."

Nora burst into laughter, while Ren let out a soft chuckle. "Not an inaccurate statement," he admitted, "but it goes a little deeper than that. He's a Warrior, and it's not unusual for those to consider themselves the `pure` version of the melee classes. They're usually fine with other combat-oriented classes, but you're a Knight. What was it he called you again?"

"A coward who traded Strength for Charisma," Nora helpfully supplied. "Basically, you're someone who wants to talk your way out of trouble while brave people like him do all the fighting."

The words sounded vaguely familiar, but I couldn't ever remember Cardin saying them. "Huh… I didn't even notice."

"That seemed to rile him up more," Nora giggled. "I thought you were doing it on purpose."

"Whatever the case," Ren said, "The feud between Blake and Weiss goes deeper and it's not going to be quite so easy to fix. Weiss knows about Atlas and has contacts there who can give us supplies, so we need her – but Blake is undoubtedly one of the strongest members of our group, so we can't lose her either. We need to fix this."

"I get that," I said, and I really did, "but what do you want me to do about it? If you haven't noticed, Blake won't even speak to me and Weiss hates my guts. Wouldn't it be beast to let Yang handle it? She's good at that kind of thing."

Ren sighed. It wasn't his usual kind, but rather one with a faint hint of frustration. From anyone else it would have been nothing to raise an eyebrow at, but from Ren, it was the angriest I'd ever seen him and it made me go silent immediately. "Jaune… I shall be polite here. You are the one who brought Blake onto this Quest. She would not be here if it weren't for you. Go and fix this while I take care of Weiss. Believe me when I say I've chosen the more difficult task."

"But she won't talk to me and keeps glaring whenever I get close."

"And every time, you back away and give up. Perhaps you might try a different approach… might I suggest pressing the issue, confronting the problem – or maybe just not running away like a coward?"

I stared at him. Ren, the ever-calm Monk, probably my best friend and also the guy I'd relied on for so long, took a deep and long breath. His face settled into neutrality once more.

"I'm sorry… my Passive makes me resistant to the frustration, but not immune."

He looked embarrassed but it was I that gave in first. My head fell and I wiped a sleeve across my mouth to wash away the terrible taste that lingered there. I couldn't wash away the slight pang of shame, however. "You're right," I said. "This is… Blake is my responsibility. I should go and sort this out. Can you actually handle Weiss, though?"

"I have no idea," Ren said with an honest shrug. "But out of all of us, I think I might be the best choice. Would you prefer Nora try? I won't say no to helping the others instead."

I opened my mouth to say no, only to hesitate and look at the Barbarian in question. She blinked and looked back. "If it gets me out of having to do Weiss, I won't be offended," she laughed. "Renny can have that task any day."

"No time like the present," Ren said, standing up. He held a hand out and helped me up as well.

"Have you seen our resident Assassin around?" I asked with a sigh.

"Have I seen an Assassin that does not wish to be seen?"

"Ugh… never mind." Nothing was ever easy, was it? "It's not that big a ship… I guess I'll find her if I keep looking."

"Think like an Assassin, Jauney," Nora clapped my shoulder with one hand. "If you wanted to find the one spot on a ship where you could avoid everyone, where would you go?"

The advice was good, I was sure of it, but the person she gave it to was less so, and thus I simply stared blankly at her like an idiot as she walked away to help the others make up. I turned to Ren, only to see he'd left as well. "Huh," I grunted, "crap…"

Think like an Assassin, think like an Assassin… this is that `fight like a Rogue` stuff all over again, isn't it? I never figured out the answer to that, either. I backed away from the edge of the ship and took a look around. There was the raised section on the back, atop of which stood the Captain, then a lowered bit in the middle with the hold underneath, and a slightly raised bit at the front where some ropes went. I was also fairly sure the Captain would have suffered an aneurism if heard me refer to parts of his ship like that, but about the most I knew was port and starboard, and only that because port had the same number of letters as left.

But if I wanted to find a spot where no one would find me, where would I go? I sighed and looked up to the sky for inspiration, only to pause at what I saw. The sails spread and bulged in the winds, with rigging that led up and down them – but there was no cat faunus on those. In the middle of it all, however, stood the crow's nest, atop the central mast and with a small hidey hole at the top. It looked like it was barely big enough for one person.

The perilous climb on a mast which swayed with every lurch and roll of the ship made my stomach twist in agony, and that was just looking at it. "Damn it, Blake…" I sighed and staggered over to it. Maybe the sea breeze up there would do me some good. It wouldn't… but it never hurt to be optimistic.

It took me almost ten minutes to climb the mast - mostly because of how often I stopped, looked down, froze and then had to convince myself to keep going.

Blake sat at the top of the crow's nest, which was lucky since if she hadn't, I'd have likely thrown myself off in frustration. I'd have liked to think I surprised her, but there was no way she missed my panicked muttering as I ascended the terrifying ladder one rung at a time. She sighed when I reached the top, and made to stand when I finally got off.

"You must be joking," I gasped, "I just got up here. You aren't going anywhere. Stop running."

"Who's running?" the Assassin asked. "The crow's nest is only big enough for one. If you want the position, have it." She made to push past and climb down the ladder but paused when my hand gripped her shoulder. "Let go of me."

"We need to talk."

"Do we? I wasn't under the same impression."

A growl escaped me as I rubbed the bridge of my nose with one hand, the other still locked onto her in case she bolted. "You've been fighting with Weiss."

"And?"

"And…?" I repeated, "And it has to stop. Blake, we're about to reach Atlas and we can't afford to have problems on this quest."

Blake scowled and tore her shoulder from my grip. She looked furious, but also disappointed – and as she turned away, I was under no misconception that it wasn't me she was irritated by. "I'm not an idiot, despite what you apparently think. Weiss' distaste for my Class is no new story. I've ignored it up until now and will ignore it moving on. The fact she despises me won't affect the quest or my performance in it."

"I don't think you're an idiot…" I mumbled. "It's just that… we need to show a unified front. Ren's talking to Weiss too. We'll try and sort this all out but I need your co-operation."

"And is my presence here not enough to show that? Do you somehow think that I don't care about what happens?"

"That's not what I meant!"

"Then what did you mean?" Blake asked. "If you're so worried I'll cause problems, don't be. I'm strong enough to contribute even if I have to put up with this."

"You're angry."

"I don't care about Weiss' opinion enough to get angry about what she says or thinks," Blake scoffed.

I shook my head. "Not at her. You're angry at me."

"So this is about us, now?"

"No, I didn't mean-"

"Then stop saying things you don't mean," Blake snapped. She pushed past me and swung her body out over the edge of the crow's nest. I gasped and rushed over, but she'd landed on the horizontal beams of wood that held the sails. She balanced easily upon them, walking away as though it were the widest path.

"Blake, please," I called, one final time. "What have I done wrong? I haven't even done anything."

She did stop. She didn't turn, however, and when she answered – her voice was without any anger. "Exactly," she sighed, "You haven't."

It was all I could do to watch her go, knowing I'd never be able to catch up or even balance atop the mast like she had. In a matter of seconds she'd agilely scaled the rigging and leapt off to land on the deck. All the while, I stood at the top like an idiot. My hands clenched into a fist and with a quick roar I slammed it into the wooden mast. It cracked slightly, but remained in one piece. "Damn it," I hissed, and pressed my forehead against the wood.

That... didn't go as planned.

/-/

The fog had come on suddenly. It was a thick and misty miasma that the other sailors assured us wasn't uncommon at sea, and especially so close to Atlas. The sails had been lowered as a result, with Captain Brun explaining that it would add a few hours onto the journey but would be necessary on account of us not being able to see anything. It wasn't all bad, however, since the fog allowed me to hide away from the others and not admit how badly I'd failed to fix the problem with Blake.

Well, that wasn't entirely true… she'd as good as said she wouldn't cause any issues with Weiss, so mission accomplished on that front. Instead, it was clear her issue was firmly with me.

What did I do wrong, though? I didn't force her to come on this quest.

As always, the answer eluded me, and Blake's feelings were about as impenetrable as the fog that covered most of the deck. I leaned against the railing and peered out into it. I'd never seen fog as thick as this on land, but then again it wasn't like I'd travelled much either.

"Is fog like this really all that common?" I called to a nearby crew member.

The man, a Sailor based on his Class, turned to look at me with a questioning hum. "This?" he asked and nodded out into the distance. It honestly looked like we might not see land until we were fifty metres away from it, and even then it would be an indistinct mass and far too late to slow down. "It happens every now and then," the Sailor explained, "We call it sea smoke, on account of how it's thicker than the fog you get on land. There's no hills or mountains out here for it to settle or for wind to blow it away. When there's no breeze like this, it just sort of sits here."

"How do you even sail in it?"

"Carefully," he grinned, "Slowly, too. Can't take any risk with this kind of thing and you want to light a lantern on the prow like we have." He jerked a hand towards the merrily blazing torch that had been strapped to the front of the ship. "It's the first warning another ship would get before they crash into us. Even if we're sure we're alone out here, doesn't hurt to take precautions."

"What causes it?" I wondered. "Is it the same kind of fog we get on land? It seems so much thicker."

"Ice, mostly."

"Ice?"

"Atlas has lots of ice and snow surrounding it. When that falls into the water, the difference in temperature can kick up sea smoke like nothing else. One of the reasons we're so profitable is because the Captain is good at navigating the dangerous waters out here. Not just any crew can make the journey to Atlas without trouble."

Ice and fog, huh? If Atlas was so inhospitable, it made me wonder why people would want to live there at all. It wasn't like there wasn't plenty of room in Vale, what with the Grimm having taken over much of the land. I guess this is why it was so expensive to get on the ship too. If there's few crews who can make the journey, trade goods become more valuable and passengers less so. Maybe Pyrrha hadn't spent all our money so frivolously after all.

There was a sloshing sound as the ship pushed through another wave, followed by a creak of rope and wood stretching. It was the same noise that had accompanies us for days, and while normally it made me feel ill, the fog had taken away a lot of the motion sickness. It was almost soothing, really. With the soft sounds, the cool fog against his cheek and the gentle sway of the ship, I found my eyes drifting shut against my will.

A wooden crack from nearby made me blink, however. It sounded like it had come from the fog itself. I shook my head and stood up, immediately feeling dizzy and lethargic as I did. "What was that?" I mumbled, then looking to the sailor I'd been speaking to. He was slumped over the rail, snoring lightly. "Hey, wake up." I reached over to grab his shoulder and jostle him awake.

"Uh… what?" The man rubbed his eyes. "I fall asleep? Cap'n will have my ass for that… strange…"

"I heard a noise," I whispered, "Out there."

The sailor frowned and reached down to his belt. A thick, bronze lantern hung there and he sparked it to life by rubbing a metal dagger against a grainy protrusion inside the lantern. The wick took quickly and a dull glow emanated as the man leaned out over the edge, dispelling the fog around him.

An arrow sprouted from his neck – and he toppled over the edge and into the waves with a loud splash.

My body refused to move. My brain refused to comprehend it. It wasn't until a whistling sound hit my ears, and something sharp ricocheted off my breastplate, that I ducked down and rushed away from the rail. My heart beat in my chest but I didn't dare stop moving.

The staccato sound of arrows piercing the deck behind me praised the decision. The deck was almost deserted, figures strewn out on the floor, and my heart froze as I saw a red shape among them. Ruby was face down in a puddle of red. "No," I gasped and rushed over to her. "Ruby!"

"Whuzzat?" the girl mumbled, silver eyes rimmed with red as she yawned. "Jaune? Are we there yet?"

My breath caught in my throat. Of course, the puddle was her own cloak, but… she'd been asleep too? My eyes widened as I looked about and noticed that the bodies around us weren't dead, but deep asleep. From back where I'd come, the sound of a ship was now unmistakable. With a growl, I pushed Ruby up onto her feet and pointed towards the dark shape. "We're under attack! Get the others. Wake people up!"

Ruby's eyes widened as she saw it at last. "Oh my God," she whispered, "I'll tell Yang. Ah! We need to wake the crew up!"

I knew that, damn it – but they were deep asleep and something was off here. The fog, it couldn't be natural and the moment it hit, we'd brought down the sails and made ourselves sitting ducks. There had to be some way to wake everyone up. My eyes looked left and right for something that would make some noise. A glint of gold caught my eye, the bronze bell that hunt from the rail by the captain's perch. "I'll wake the crew," I called, already moving towards it, "Wake the Guild – make sure everyone's armed!"

Ruby nodded and dashed inside the cabins, but I was already dashing up the wooden steps, taking two at a time. My pace halted as an arrow struck the railing my hand was on, and I retracted it with a startled gasp, ducking as another two flew overhead. There was a groan and a cry as they struck someone else instead, and I desperately – selfishly – hoped it wasn't any of my friends.

I didn't have time to do anymore. Captain Brun fell from the wheel as I dragged him off and reached out to take the striker in hand. With all my energy, I slammed it back and forth – deafening myself and causing the bell to ring wildly. "Attack!" I screamed above it all. "We're under attack!"

Pain lanced through my body and I cried out in agony as I fell to the deck. Through eyes hazy with tears, I looked down to see a shaft protrude from my right side. It had cut through my armour and dug into flesh. It didn't feel deep, but the sensation was a new – and very unwelcome one and I struggled to move my arm.

From the fog, a dark shape leapt down onto the deck. It landed clumsily, rolled forward and then stood up to reveal itself. The ragged man, dressed in tatters of cloth and armour – the words above his head `Scout` - peered directly at me. With an angry growl he tore free a curved blade and rushed forward.

I struggled futilely with my own, one arm still refusing to move as he bore down to cleave me in two.

Another blade met it halfway. The Scout growled and pulled it back, but staggered as a meaty fist caught him in the face. That same hand grasped the intruder's collar a moment later and pulled him forward – to slam the attacker into the wooden mast. Staggered and bleeding from the face, he was unprepared when Captain Brun pulled him back and tossed him over the side of the ship.

"Deserters," the faunus roared. "To arms! Everyone to arms!" The maddened captain's eyes looked down and he extended a hand. "Up, lad, we're going to need every bit of fight we have."

My side stung as he pulled me up, but with one hand I reached down to snap the shaft in two. There was no use removing it… not now, and not when it would mean taking my armour off. I worked my right arm for a few seconds, then draw Crocea Mors. "Are these pirates?" I asked, terrified more than I dared admit.

"Deserters more like. Soldier Caste cowards who couldn't stomach the life and turned to crime instead. Fit for nothing but a cold, watery grave." The captain pushed past me and took the bell in one hand, ringing it with all his might. "To arms! To arms!"

All across the desk, Sailors roused and began to shout in panic and fear as the situation sank in. I staggered forwards, only to fall with a startled cry as something crashed into the side of the ship. It rolled to the right, and for a moment I thought we might capsize entirely. There was no mercy in the fact it didn't, for the moment we were steady, battle cries came from the direction of the sound and silver blades flashed in the fog.

We'd been boarded… the knowledge struck like the Beowolf had, hard and fast, with no warning and completely bypassing anything I had. My arms shook, my eyes watered and the sword and shield in my hands felt like they weighed a thousand pounds or more. What were we going to do? What could we hope to do? We were going to die. Out here on the open sea with nowhere to run… we were going to die.

So suffocating was my panic, I failed to see the first enemy until he was already upon me. Something struck my stomach with the force of a hammer and I was thrown back to slam into the wooden railing. Through frightened eyes, I watched the burly man approach, cleaver held high in the air.

Something crashed into him and he was sent over the railings instead of myself, however. "Jauney!" Nora cried, her war hammer coming to rest beside her as she reached out one hand to grip my shoulder and drag me up. "Are you okay? Did he get you?"

"N-Nora?"

"That's me," the Barbarian laughed. "Everyone else is fighting the pirates. We need to go help – and I want to see if any of them has a pirate's hat I can steal!"

Her words were so casual, so jovial, and yet they did little to calm me. She wanted us to fight against the deserters? Well… we'd have to, wouldn't we? They'd kill us otherwise but still… fight against real people, with real consequences like death and more?

Could I do that?

What choice was there?

I nodded and followed after her, even as deep inside, my stomach flipped and flopped with horror. My skin felt clammy and not just from my wound. My hand tightened painfully around the hilt of Crocea Mors, and as the roar of combat filled my senses, I hoped no one could see how badly I shivered.

It was Ruby I saw first. Her red cloak was obvious, even in the thick fog, and it was probably only her speed which allowed her to avoid being struck by arrows. Crescent Rose, the scythe I'd created, shimmered through the air as she parried and deflected strikes from various people. She pirouetted past one, struck the man in the face with the back of the haft, and drove him over the side of the ship. Someone snuck up behind her, and I held out a hand and shouted a warning.

The attacker didn't get a chance to do anything. A rapier pierced his shoulder and drove him back, and Weiss pulled it free with a snarl and kicked him over the edge. "Watch your back, you dunce," the Mage rebuked. "What if he hit you?"

"S-Sorry!"

"Weiss!" I called, rushing over to them. The Mage turned to face me but I pointed at the ship that had crashed into our own. "Can you set it on fire? Can you do something to it?"

"When it's connected to our own? I'd as soon burn us to ash. Even if I could, something about this fog is preventing me from casting any spells. There's a Mage among them… that much is clear."

"They're on us!" Someone, perhaps Pyrrha, yelled.

Any further conversation was cut off as at least five howling people charged towards us. Weiss fell back with a curse, her strength cut in two not that she couldn't cast, and Ruby and I instinctively moved in front to cover her. A sword slammed into my shield and forced me back, and if it wasn't for some Sailor rushing up to take a stab at the man and drawing attention away, the other might have carved into my side.

I took the chance for what it was and dashed in. Crocea Mors sang as she slashed through the air and rang against a spear head. The bearded man tried to pull it away and attack but I punched the shield towards his face. Metal rang against flesh as he stumbled back.

Something struck me from behind, a great ring of metal on metal as the force alone sent me hurtling forward into the man I'd just staggered. We crashed into one another and fell to the floor, but someone engaged the one from behind before he could do anything to finish me.

That still left me with the first, however, who drew a knife from his belt and attempted to slam it into my eyes. The steel skittered off my shoulder as I twisted to the side and kicked back. He slid away on the slick deck, giving me the time to crawl back onto my feet and ready myself. "Surrender," I shouted. He laughed and charged in, dagger flashing through the mist.

The training Miss Goodwitch had imposed on all of us kicked in. My right arm flexed and pushed the weapon down and to the left. I stepped into his guard and threw my shoulder against his chest, using the strength of my breastplate to wind him. Crocea Mors came back while he was distracted, drawn across his chest in a diagonal motion.

My opponent fell back, one hand clutched to his chest as blood seeped through. He cursed once, looked about – and then broke for his ship.

I was happy to let him go and quickly turned to the others. Ruby and Weiss seemed to be okay, now protected by Yang and Pyrrha. Ren and Nora fought as a team nearby, and while I couldn't see Blake, that was more comfort than being able to. It meant she was fine and likely striking from the shadows.

The Sailors weren't doing badly either. Some had been hurt, and I pointedly refused to look at their still forms, or the blood that soaked the deck. The rest still fought, however, and were hardy men. Up above the main cabin, Captain Brun roared and slammed two people's heads together.

"We're pushing them back!" someone yelled. The cry was taken up by more people further down the ship. It raised my spirits as much as it did those of everyone else. My voice rose to match theirs, and as the next foe approached, I charged in first.

He blocked my first blow, but seemed utterly unprepared for the Strength behind it. He was an Archer, but clearly nowhere near as strong as Coco. A Soldier Caste member relegated from the Hero Caste and now turned to a life of crime. The figure's face was shrouded by fog but I caught his snarl as he tried to push the sword aside and cut across my neck with a short sword held in his other hand.

I slammed the edge of my shield into his wrist before he could. Bone cracked and he cried out in pain, only to go silent as I repeated it once more, this time to face. He slumped to the deck, unconscious.

I was doing it. I was winning! They had numbers and the element of surprise, but they seemed ill-prepared to stand against us, hungry and desperate with feral expressions and no discipline. I hunched low and allowed one to charge into my shield. The moment he did, I pushed up and under, lifting him above me and tossing him over the railing into the depths.

"Fight, you bastards!" a voice roared. It was a woman, clad in heavy armour. She crashed down onto the deck with a huge two-handed axe held between her hands. "Fight on or I'll kill you all myself!" A Sailor charged at her, weapon raised, but she spun and cut him down with contemptuous ease. Blood splattered across her chest and she slammed her battle-axe against her breastplate.

Berserker, the words above her head read.

That has to be the leader. If we take her out, the rest will surely break. I looked back towards the others, but it seemed like they were still engaged in their own fights. Blake might have still been around but it was impossible to tell and the moment's hesitation took the choice away entirely. The Berserker saw me and charged in immediately. She swung her axe high and brought it crashing down onto my shield.

My arms buckled under the force and the back of the shield slammed into my face as I was driven away. My back bumped into wood. A swift roll to the side prevented my being cut in two, and as the woman lodged her weapon into the oak, I slashed at her unprotected back. Crocea Mors bit into armour but didn't seem to draw blood.

She roared in fury. Almost too fast to see, she spun about and slammed the haft of her axe into my chest. The steel haft dented and drove the air from me, even before she ducked low, hooked the head behind my ankle and pulled.

Weightlessness took me and I cried out as I fell, only to be silence as my back smacked against the hard deck. My hands came up in time to block a vicious kick that would have knocked me out, but it did nothing to stop her settling down atop me.

She punched my guard open and raised the above her head. "Die!"

Crocea Mors came up in time to catch the axe head, but I nearly cut my own throat open in the process. The blade ended up braced across my arm, shoulder and neck – the axe pushing it down as I tried to force her off.

The deadly age moved closer, however, and to my horror, I realised what it was I was facing. She was stronger than me, faster and more skilled. She wasn't a deserting Soldier. She was a Hero! A Hero that had a much higher level than I!

My free hand came up to grapple with her weapon. She seemed amused by the action and spat into my eye. "Give it up," she laughed, "I've slain more little Heroes than you, boy!"

As though… I could afford… to do that. My teeth ground together as I fought to push it back. Even with my superior Strength, she seemed able to match me. If only the others could see… if only the fog that blanketed the deck wasn't so strong!

This is it, I realised with bitter clarity. This is where I die. I'm going to die because I'm not a Knight. Because I don't have the skills to fight and I'm just a stupid Blacksmith.

I was going to be killed by a weapon someone like me would have forged.

Wait…

It was a desperate idea – a foolish idea – and yet it was all I had. My right hand, which was currently wrapped around the steel shaft, moved just a little higher. My fingers tightened around it as I concentrated and forced heat into my hands. Metal sizzled beneath my fingers, warping and turning cherry red. Even as a conductor, the heat didn't spread further down. She never noticed.

My Blacksmith's instincts told me it was hot as I was going to get it. With a growl I activated one of my few other skills, Quench, and rapidly cooled the metal back down. At the same time, I kicked out with my right leg, catching her in the ribs and knocked her to the left.

The axe blade nicked my cheek as she fell – and blood dribbled down my cheek as I wrenched Crocea Mors up into the air and brought it down in an overhead slash, with all my Blacksmith's Strength behind it.

The Berserker laughed and held up her battle-axe to catch it on the haft.

My assault was a last act of desperation… I knew that. She knew it too. Even on one knee, she was stronger and better than I could ever hope to be, not even slightly concerned that I had the advantage of height… not when she knew how to handle it.

But she didn't know how to forge steel.

Crocea Mors crashed into the haft directly where I'd heated it, quenched it, but failed to temper the steel. Hard and tinny, the brittle metal shattered under the softer edge of steel. The Berserker gasped as the sword slammed into her right shoulder, bit through armour, and lodged in her collarbone.

Blood spurted up from the wound, ran down the fuller, and pooled across my crimson fingers. My body was slack, my mind even more so. I wasn't even prepared when she threw one final attack… but I didn't have to be. The axe-head weakly clattered off my armour, no strength behind it as the woman on the end of my sword expired. Her weight collapsing to the deck dragged it from my nerveless hands. My knees followed, hitting the wood.

A blast of air struck the ship. It pushed fighters to their knees all across the deck. The mist attempted to return – but the wind struck again, harder, and dispelled it in one loud blast. Now that it had been removed, it was impossible not to see the third, silvery ship that bobbed alongside ours and the pirate's. Atop it, a figure in a white uniform pointed a sword down at the melee.

"In the name of Archmage Ironwood and the Atlesian Empire – this is the Imperial Navy. We command you to stand down and surrender immediately!"

The cavalry had arrived, it seemed… but as the deserters threw down their arms and the surviving sailors began to cheer in victory, I couldn't help but look down to my hands – covered in blood – and wish they'd arrived sooner.

Blake had been right. I wasn't ready for this.

None of us were.


Pirates! I bet none of you saw that coming! Ha, well… let's be honest, every trip by sea in an RPG game has to be interrupted either by pirates or a sea monster. It's practically a rite of passage! Jaune has, up until this point, also fought only in a serious manner against Grimm and the like. I wanted to introduce how things might be different with humans. This is his first taste of true PvP.

And, of course, Jaune makes his first kill.

(For those who might ask; yes, Jaune will receive EXP for that. It's just that he hasn't bothered to look or pay attention yet).


Next Chapter: 27th February

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