So, the week from hell is over at last. Relief. My car is also fixed now from its disastrous moment last week and I have caught up on work or am close enough to caught up. In additional news, A Hunter or Something may soon be resuming. I cannot give exact dates when, but College Fool and I are back in talks after all this work on both our ends sorted out. The reason I've been silent on it, in PMs and otherwise, is because I was unable to give an answer.
Anyway, on with this chapter.
Beta: College Fool
Cover Art: Dishwasher1910
Book 7: Chapter 2
The rush of activity was expected but no less frantic. Ansel didn't have the facilities to house the King. At best, it had a homey tavern with a warm bed. Such was hardly fit for the ruler of a Kingdom, let alone a small army. That was another contentious point for many; not only did the assembled forces hint at a further drain on Ansel's already limited resources, but they were a reminder that Vale could have sent more men to guard Ansel and the surrounding villages. These men could have fought off any of Mistral's raiding parties with ease. Instead, they'd been guarding the safest man in Vale. Whether or not anyone would say it – and I doubted anyone would be so foolish – there was bitterness there.
That left me to go down and greet the King formally. I looked to Weiss for aid, knowing she'd be the only one with any experience in this, but she simply shrugged and motioned for me to go.
There was something awkwardly embarrassing about climbing down off the wall, running to the gate on the other side and then having to jog around the perimeter wall. It would have looked better if there were a gate on the wall he'd come to, since I could walk or ride out and look respectable. I could have jumped down, but I had a feeling that would be seen as an aggressive motion by the force he had accompanying him.
Instead, I took a full minute to reach the King, though he waited patiently – perhaps even amused – atop his horse. Not knowing how to approach, speak or act around royalty, I stopped a good fifteen feet away and bowed from the waist. Kneel, flourish, say something? Beacon hadn't ever really covered royal etiquette.
"You may rise," the King said.
"Thank you, my- your majesty?"
"It will do. I would bid you call me by name – you did save my life, after all – but I fear decorum would demand otherwise and the Royal Court would see it as favouritism. Believe me, young man, you neither need nor want those dogs to focus their attention on you."
"I see…" I didn't. It suddenly struck me that apart from the fact we had a King, I didn't know anything about the Royal family, the politics of the Kingdom or how the Noble Caste really worked. The latter made sense since Ansel's interaction with the Caste was just paying taxes to the collectors who came around once a year, but it surprised me that Beacon didn't at least cover the subject. "If it's not rude to ask, your majesty, what brings you to Ansel?"
"It is not rude, nor presumptuous." The King raised his voice so that his men could hear. "I would speak with this one in private. See that my tent is erected and make camp. No one is to enter the village, nor place a burden on what must already by limited resources."
"Your highness," the man who had been rebuked before whispered, "Though I would dare not to question you, please allow one of us to accompany you. Trust as you may this… this Blacksmith, but he is armed, and you are our King."
"I will be safe, Nolan. Besides, I said in private, not alone." The King clicked his fingers and a shadow appeared, almost seeming to detach from the King's back. I took a step back, startled, but the hooded and cowled man in black made no threatening motion. An Assassin. I'd not even sensed him. "This is Saren, a trusted agent of the Crown and my new bodyguard," the King explained to me. "He is my right hand and can be trusted. He shall not harm you if you do not attempt to harm me."
"Right." I watched the Assassin warily, but all I could make out was a chin, some stubble and a thin smile. He kept his hands visible, though I knew from Blake that the gesture meant little. "Where was he when the attack happened? You could have used him…"
"He was protecting my son from those sent to murder him. I had my personal Champion to protect me. Alas, the Elementalist bested him. And you bested her in turn."
"Through luck more than anything," I replied.
"Not luck," the Assassin whispered. His voice was deep. "A Counter-Class. One whose Skills and Passive just so happened to be the perfect counter to her. It happens every now and then. In such cases, a Counter-Class many levels lower can best another by nullifying the opponent's assets."
It was the best explanation I'd heard. Cinder had been stronger than me, both in Skills and Levels, but as a Blacksmith, and because of my Passive, I'd been able to best her – and my transformation to a Swordmaster, while it did not grant me any immediate power, gave me the cutting edge I needed to wound and kill her.
It didn't do much else, sadly. The new Skills were nice, and the flexibility was a bonus, but until I gained more Levels and put my new parameter increase in Dex to good use, I wouldn't be any stronger. In the few spars we'd had, Pyrrha still wiped the floor with me. It was closer when I was a Swordmaster, but still an impossible match-up for me. I hadn't won once.
Cinder was just unlucky. In more ways than one.
The King had led us aside while we talked, and although we were far enough away that no one could listen in, we were still in sight of both those on the walls of Ansel and the armed escort. A concession to both, I assumed, since either side would be antsy if we disappeared.
"This is far enough," the King said. His deep tenor had softened somewhat, and he spoke in something of a more casual, lilting tone. "Affairs of ceremony require a certain degree of pomp, but I don't think that is necessary here. You may call me Galan in private, though I regret to say you'll have little opportunity for that. Fear not for anything you say here and now, no punishment shall befall you and Saren will not spread what is said."
I was surprised at what must have been a great honour. It didn't feel like one. If anything, it only left me more confused. "Okay, uh… Galan." Neither reacted poorly at that and I continued, a little more confident in myself. "That doesn't answer why you're here, though."
"We are here for you, boy." Saren said with a laugh.
"M-Me? What have I done!?"
"Saren spoke poorly," Galan said. "Forgive him. We are here for you, yes, but not to imprison or punish you. I, for one, wish to thank you for your assistance in the arena. Were it not for you, I would have died, and my Kingdom would have fallen. I will find a way to reward you, but such is not for now."
"Uh. There's no need to-"
"There is. If a King cannot honour a debt, then how can the average man be expected to? Like it or not, I must adhere to all virtues I expect of my people. Though this one shall not be so onerous," he added. "I am grateful to you."
"Then… why come for me? Just to say that?"
"Not just, no." Galan sighed. "Allow me to be frank with you, Jaune Arc of Ansel – and yes, I know your name. I questioned Ozpin at length as to you. The type of person you are, your accomplishments, your personality." I wasn't sure what I felt about Ozpin answering questions like those, but I imagined he didn't have a choice. You couldn't really say no to the King. "All of this is important as you have become a figure of some… interest in the Kingdom."
"For killing Cinder and ending the war?"
"No. While heroic and just in itself, it is expected for a Hero or Soldier to partake in such things. The war had to end eventually. While tragic, it is… I will not say `normal` as that makes light of the sacrifices of many, but it is an understandable occurrence. It is something society understands, even as it despises it. The one who ends a war would be loved for a time, but memories fade."
"No," he said. "Your name is being whispered across Vale because of what happened to you during the attack. Even through the fires of the Phoenix, some were able to see your transformation – and even those who did not knew you and were aware that you were not a Swordmaster. Some believe you have turned from Knight to Swordmaster, while others know the truth that you have turned from Blacksmith to Swordmaster. In the end, either one has the fabric to tear apart everything we know about the world. There is… unrest in the Kingdom."
"All because my Class changed? That seems petty. Why is no one focused on the end of the war, on what the King of Mistral did?"
"You've not heard? Ah, I suppose news must travel slowly in these parts. The King of Mistral is dead. He returned home safely but died of grief. Some say he took his own life to repent for his misdeeds."
"Noble talk for a dagger between the shoulder blades," the King's Assassin chuckled.
I gasped. "He was killed? By who?"
"His own family, I would expect. Or the Royal Court of Mistral." Galan seemed remarkably unconcerned. "It's no great worry. He expected it, as did I if I'm honest. His actions brought shame to Mistral and would have for the rest of his life. He broke the Grand Treaty. Had he been victorious, they might have overlooked it because Mistral would be strong enough to go unchallenged, but because he failed the Kingdom lost faith. Few would have trusted a King who has already broken his word. Trade deals would fall, alliance falter. Such a King cannot rule…"
"So they killed him?"
"I'm sure he was given the choice to abdicate. He likely refused it. Perhaps he thought it better to die a King, or perhaps he considered his position strong enough to survive this. He was wrong."
"And you're okay with this?" I had to ask. "You're the one who convinced me not to kill him! What's the difference if you knew he'd be killed anyway?"
It was Saren who answered, "The difference, boy, is that he was killed on Mistral soil by Mistral. They get to wrap it up, call it grief or whatever they want to sugar-coat it, and move on with their lives. You killing him would have gone down in history and offended a whole lot of fanatical worshippers."
"It's politics," Galan explained. "Don't try overmuch to understand it. You don't need to. Not yet. The point I'm trying to make is that your name – and your deeds – have become known. Among the Labour Caste, there are those who whisper your name with awe and hope. Some see you as the coming of a new legend. Others don't believe you exist at all. Saren here runs my intelligence and has spies across the Kingdom. There are people desperate to find and meet with you. Some wish to change their Class and believe you can teach them how. Some see you as a threat to stability and wish to kill you." I opened my mouth to complain. Galan held up a hand to stop me. "And there are some, Jaune Arc, who wish for you to lead an uprising against me."
My heart stilled. I felt cold all of a sudden, and all too aware of the Assassin behind the King. "I-I don't," I whispered. "I've never thought such a thing, I swear."
"And I believe you. Had you wished me dead, it would have been the work of standing aside for two minutes in that arena, but it matters little what I believe. You represent the death of the old and the birth of something new. You bring change with you, and change, while it has the potential to be beneficial, brings with it great upheaval. There will be some who support you and yet more who despise you."
"But I don't understand why! What change? What do I represent? Why do people think I'm going to lead a rebellion against you? I risked my life to help you. Why would I turn around and kill you now?"
"Politics," Saren said.
I groaned. "I'm beginning to hate that excuse."
"Then you're on the right track," Galan said. "I can explain more in time, but the short of it is that you represent a crack in the Caste System that governs not just Vale, but almost every Kingdom in Remnant. Those who hate the Caste system see you as a ray of hope and a symbol of change. Those who benefit from it see you as a threat and a usurper. This puts me in a difficult position, as I am expected to weigh in on this matter, and we can ill afford more instability after we've just come from a war."
"Well that's easy to sort out," I said. "I've no interest in changing things. I've barely got my own life in order. Hell, my life is a mess. Tell them that and be done with it."
Saren snorted.
"If it were that easy, we'd not be here," Galan said, somewhat more patient than his bodyguard. "As I said, there are some who don't even believe you exist. Stories are conflicting, and no one knows what to think. Your legend may yet grow out of control, perhaps even beyond what you would approve of. We, that is I, cannot stay silent on the matter. It must be dealt with. You must return to Vale and meet with the Noble Caste. Your transformation must be understood, researched and explained to the masses. If we do not own this legend, it may yet grow out of control and plunge us into fresh conflict."
Madness. Absolute madness. I shook my head yet couldn't ignore what was being said, or the message within. Despite my best efforts to stop the fighting, I might have become a catalyst for more. Nausea rose up inside me and I felt faint. Was this the Greycloaks at work? Or had I unwittingly become a boon to them by sheer happenstance?
Worse, I didn't want to return to Vale yet. I wasn't ready. It wasn't the city itself, Beacon or even the prospect of meeting the Noble Caste – though that did fill me with some dread. Rather, it was the fact that the rest of the Guild and I still hadn't addressed the Beowolf in the room. We hadn't sorted any of our issues out.
We weren't fighting still, but we weren't back to normal either.
It was cowardly, I knew, but it was cowardice from all of us. When the truth of my Class was found, they'd turned on me and I still felt bitter about that, even if I understood that some of that anger had come from me lying in the first place. It still felt like there was a tiny crack in what we'd had, and with no one quite willing to face the issue and fix it, it had only grown wider.
Coming to Ansel hadn't helped. Instead, the problems the village faced became a welcome distraction. I could throw myself into helping my village and not have to face my feelings. They in turn chose to do the same, either waiting for me to say something or perhaps not knowing how to address it themselves. Whatever the case, we'd let it linger. We went through the motions of being a cohesive unit, but there was no denying that once we'd finished talking about the relief efforts of the day, we would lapse in a long and uncomfortable silence. It didn't matter who I spoke with, from Ruby to Ren and even Nora. It was always there.
Going back to Vale… well, that would remove the only distraction we had. Vale meant Beacon and Beacon meant the Lodge, lessons and all those little reminders of our huge fight.
But it wasn't like we could hide forever, was it? Sooner or later, the conversation had to happen.
"What about Ansel?" I asked. "The village needs us…"
"Ten of my best men will stay here to assist it, and as a reward for your co-operation, the Crown will subsidise and provide craftsmen to help expand the village and stock it with fresh supplies. I will personally fund the village if I have to. Housing for your refugees, new walls – seeds for planting. Whatever is required."
"It's politics again, boy," Saren said. "You staying here creates much the same message to those disillusioned with the current state of affairs. Your village rose above its Caste to fight off the invaders. And they won. Sure, it may have been necessity, but what message do you think that sends to those who wish to use you as a figurehead to justify a rebellion?"
That if I and Ansel could do it, other villages could too. Not against Mistral's soldiers, since those were gone now, but against Vale's. I looked back at Ansel and noticed the new colours of red and gold. Not Vale's colours. I grimaced, realising how that might be read into, both by those who supported me and those who saw me as a threat. If they heard the villagers call me `Lord` it would only get worse. I'd be seen as leading a revolution, with Ansel being the first independent village to break its allegiance to the Kingdom.
And all of a sudden, I understood just why it was so important I go with the King to Vale. If I was being seen as a rogue agent, then the King summoning and I following would help reinforce the image that I was not above the law. Some might suggest I was being arrested, but others – the Noble Caste especially – would see that I did still follow the word of the King. It might calm them down, at least. If we came to an accord, the Kingdom would see me being beside the King as a sign that we were working together. It would leave the rebels without a leg to stand on. Politics, I quickly realised, was a frightening game.
"I don't really have a choice, do I?"
"There is always a choice. It's just that they're not always good ones. You could strike me down and flee." The King didn't believe I would even as he said it. He was right. The choices were there, but most of them were illogical or downright foolhardy. If I said no, even politely, it would be seen as immediate sign of rebellion. Some people would run with that. The Greycloaks might even push the agenda, seeing me as the route to the next big war.
In the end, the choice was obvious. "I'll return to Vale."
"Thank you. You will see that this was the right decision. I should warn you to keep your guards up, however. Once we are back in Vale we will not be able to speak this candidly. The Royal Court is not a place for an amateur and there are many who would seek to use you. Tread carefully, watch your words and remember that all your skill and strength will not aid you against those who do not fight you with a weapon in hand." Galan nodded and adopted a regal posture. The private meeting was over, and he was back to being the King once more. "Return to your Guild and give them the news. I will see to arranging relief efforts for Ansel in your absence. Be ready to leave come the morning."
As the King strode back to his men, his shadow beside him, I sketched a weak bow and tried to keep my feelings from showing on my face.
/-/
The Guild was no more enthused than I.
"Nobles," Weiss spat. "I despise them. They were ever trying to put themselves ahead of us Mages in Atlas, as if they weren't in part responsible for the revolution and the fall of Mantle. They fight with words and are always playing their little games. It doesn't surprise me they'd be panicked about you. They see any possible threat to their power as the end of the world."
"But Jaune can't refuse the summons of the King," Pyrrha said. "Or, I mean, he shouldn't. The choice is still yours, of course."
Silence. I almost rolled my eyes. Were they suggesting I might refuse and undo all the good we'd done just for my own temper? No. They were just desperate not to make my own decisions for me, or to sound like they were. The constant tip-toeing was an aggravating part of the current mood between the Guild. Everyone was walking on eggshells, myself included.
The best thing to do would be to clear it up here. Get the arguments out of the way before we return to Vale and have to focus on other things.
It was the right thing to do, but like so many other things, right did not mean easy. There was still so much anger simmering beneath the surface. Not rage, but bitter disappointment. I was afraid of what I might say or do. I was also afraid of my arguments being thrown back in my face. Of being wrong and called out on it.
Despite knowing better, I kept my tongue. Buried the uneasy feelings. "I'll not do that. I already agreed to go back."
"Do you think this is a Greycloak plot?" Ruby asked, moving the conversation back towards work. That made things easier. It let us focus.
"I doubt they could react so quickly, or predict that Jaune's Class might change," Ren said. "This seems more of a natural response from the people. That said, I'm sure they'd be willing to ride the waves and make use of it."
"I wonder if they were able to get anything from Torchwick," Yang said. "He must have cracked by now."
"Guess we'll find out in Vale."
Yeah. Perhaps. I'd missed Torchwick being formally taken in, but he was presumably still in a cell. They might have been too focused on ending the war to interrogate him, or maybe he was holding out. Either way, he might have some answers. I'd have to see if Ozpin could tell me anything.
As the conversation continued, the list of things to talk about began to dwindle. Soon, the moments of silence started to interfere, and I caught more than one person either refusing to meet my eyes or looking away the moment I turned to them. I stood with a sigh and excused myself with the excuse of telling my family the news. No one argued, though they all wished me well and promised to meet up on the morrow.
Things weren't unfriendly between us, just awkward. So very awkward.
Stepping outside of the tavern and into the cool night air, I looked around at Ansel. The villagers had taken the news with a mixed reaction, though there was a general sense of hope from the refugees at the King's offer to create housing for them, so that was a benefit. If trading my time and comfort would help the village recover, then surely that was worth it. Heck, Ansel might become a full-fledged town at this rate. I doubted the refugees would want to leave the safety of the walls, and the Kingdom of Vale would only benefit from the increased size of the village. It would make tax collection and defence easier if everyone was in one spot, too.
It also struck me that the King's offer might not all be about generosity. Like I'd realised, the flight of our own colours over the Kingdom's would have sent a message. The King coming in person and humbling himself – if only a little – to pay for repair and support would endear him to the common folk and show that Ansel was not about to declare independence. Already, a few Vale flags were waving on the palisade wall. My suggestion to Anders, and a way to make it clear to the Soldiers outside that we weren't their enemies.
It was strange and kind of scary how much could be read into – what was for us – a little decision to change our colours. We'd only done so because of the confusion over deserters and wanting to be sure who our allies were. It was necessity and little else, but some angry villagers on the other side of Vale probably saw it as the first signs of open rebellion.
I wondered if Vale might have sent more armed men if this continued. If the King hadn't come himself, would a small army have been sent to subjugate us and instil order once more? The fact I couldn't say no with any certainty worried me.
"Jaune! Wait up!"
"Ruby?" I waited for the Reaper to catch up. Out of everyone, it felt like she was the least awkward, possible because she was the only one to have known the truth ahead of my less-than-stellar reveal. I couldn't say things were normal between us, but they were less abnormal than with everyone else.
"You're not actually off to talk to your family, are you? I saw you tell them earlier."
I shrugged but didn't argue the point. "Just wanted some fresh air." Ruby knew that wasn't true, but she didn't call me out. I imagined she was just as afraid of starting a fight as everyone else. "Did you have something you wanted to tell me?" I asked.
"Eh. Not really." She shrugged and stepped up beside me, the two of us walking past the refugee camp – where the overall mood seemed much more chipper than usual – and down into the animal corral. Before, it had almost exclusively been for cows and chickens, but with our arrival there were a selection of handsome and well-groomed steeds as well.
Even if my skill at riding was lacklustre, I could at least appreciate the simple affection of the horses. Not Faith, of course. She took one look at me, noticed I didn't have a lump of sugar and decided I wasn't worth the shit on her hooves.
You are dead to me, her long face seemed to say, before she turned back to a bucket of oats and ignored me altogether.
The others were nicer. Ruby's horse was especially affectionate and butted its head against her shoulder and pushed its nose under her arm, earning a giggle from Ruby. She reached up to scratch behind its ears with one hand and a spot under its neck with the other. The horse started to paw its back leg in pleasure. I watched with a smile and contented myself with rubbing the nose of Weiss' mare and pushing the nose of Yang's out of my pockets. It was looking for sugar lumps.
After a few minutes to calm down, Ruby said, "I've met with the Royal Court before. Yang has, too."
"You didn't mention it back there." I realised why a second later. "Oh. Was it about your Class?"
"Yeah. They were the ones to ultimately decide whether I'd be Hero or Labour Caste. I know it's not the same as your situation, but I figure it's close enough. They'll probably want you to pick which one to be. Or they'll pick for you."
I grimaced at the thought. Choose Labour and I might lose the right to re-join Beacon. Pick Hero and I'd be turning my back on my past. And I couldn't keep the transformation up anyway, so it wasn't like I could stay as a Swordmaster all the time. Still, Ruby was probably right about having to choose. If they were worried about me being a symbol of weakness in the Caste System, then the first way to fix that would be to categorise me. Put me into it and show that it was still strong.
"That's going to be a problem. I can't pick one or the other…"
"Hmm. They're not going to like that."
"I don't think they're going to like me anyway. The King said they already see me as a problem. You'd think saving the King's life and ending the war would earn me some credit there."
"I'm sure it does, but I think it also earns you fame with the other factions – and the Nobles can't forget that." Ruby sighed. "You know, the King probably saved your life by coming here to meet with you and explain everything. If he hadn't, some Noble would have decided you're a threat better off dealt with."
"Assassins…?"
"Maybe. Or it could be something subtler. Framed for a crime, or us getting attacked on our next Quest. They might have even paid mercenaries to act as looters and attack Ansel with orders just to kill you. Make it look like an attack by bandits gone wrong."
"You're not exactly filling me with hope here, Ruby."
"Oops." She laughed awkwardly. "Well, those are just worst-case examples, you know? Like, extreme cases. There would probably be a lot of moaning, whining and scheming first."
"I take it you don't have the best opinion of the Noble Caste."
Ruby huffed. "They didn't give me much reason to respect them. They were making decisions that would affect my life, and they never once cared about what I wanted. Or listened to what I had to say. It was just tests after tests. Spar with this guy, show my Skills, prove I can fight." And some just wanted me out of the picture. Not dead," she hurried to say when my shoulders stiffened, "Out of the city and hidden away in some village. They're not evil. Just… old-fashioned. Very old-fashioned. They like things the way they are and hate anything that threatens that."
"Conservative," I offered.
"Yeah. That's the word."
Not the one I wanted to hear. If they'd disliked Ruby, they would hate me. There just wasn't anything I could do about that, certainly not by staying out of the way and letting them make up their own minds. I had to face them head on and hope for the best.
"You should try and talk to Ozpin when you get back," Ruby said. "He will try and help."
"Against his King?"
"It's not against him, it's not against anyone. It's just working things out. And besides, Ozpin wants you to help with your Purify Skill, right? He needs you against Salem. He's not going to want to let the Noble Caste ship you to some out of the way village. He'd fight tooth and nail to prevent that."
"You might be right. You think Ozpin has a lot of political clout?"
Ruby snorted. "Jaune, he's the one who managed to convince the Noble Caste to let me start off being a Hero. Him alone. Trust me on this, he's not an amateur."
"Thanks Ruby. What advice did Ozpin give you?"
"When I met the Nobles? He basically told me to be quiet and say as little as possible. Because I was young and impulsive, and they'd use that to their advantage. Take my words and twist them, use them against me. Nobles focus on Charisma, Intellect and Wisdom. They don't fight like we do."
"So, I need to rely on my Charisma in dealing with them?"
"Yeah, basically."
Wonderful…
/-/
We were ready come morning. The camp outside was busy packing up when we arrived, but we made sure to come early, bathed and dressed for the occasion. The King regarded us with some warmth, but he didn't speak to me or any other member of the Guild. Our candid talk from the day before looked like it was going to be a one time thing. I thought I caught sight of Saren, but that might have been my imagination. Blake tracked where I was looking, however, and tensed. Maybe I hadn't been mistaken.
It was one of the four Soldiers to come towards Ansel's walls that eventually called the column into action. A portion of the force, ten or twelve in total, had been left behind to bolster Ansel's defences with the promise of more reinforcements to come. Knowing what I did now about politics, I fully believed the King would keep his word. To do any less would be to appear weak or petty with no real gain. If he turned on or was seen to slight us in any way, it would be fuel to the fire of those who spoke against him. I'd become a symbol. If I died, a martyr. Really, the best way to quell the insurrection was for the King and the Court to earn not my favour - for such would suggest they needed it - but rather my respect. Or my loyalty.
That ought to ensure Ansel was treated fairly.
"Column, forward!" someone shouted from the front. The soldiers closed in around us, not threateningly, but more like we were valuable trade goods to be protected with their lives. Pennants and flags bristled from their spears and lances, and at the front, the King's red cape could be seen. The people of Ansel cheered as we left. I assumed it was in support, or maybe just pleasure at the news they would have more resources and houses built.
"So, back to Vale," Yang remarked. She didn't quite meet my eyes. "That's going to be a thing..."
"Yes," I agreed. "I think it will be."
Just a note here to explain something quick; I don't normally like to spoil things, but this isn't a big one or all that important, and it answers some small requests or complaints I'm getting. In a few chapters – very few – Jaune will be asked to explain as best he can his new Class to the Noble Caste. When that happens, he's going to have to go into detail on his changes.
This is why I haven't been giving you all the details in an end of chapter note, because he is going to have to do it anyway soon, and I don't want that scene to be the driest of your life because you already know it all. Rather than force you to sit through it twice, I'm just not going to be including it in the notes here for the first couple of chapters.
Don't worry, you'll learn about Jaune's Swordmaster Class soon.
Next Chapter: 15th October
P a treon . com (slash) Coeur
