Chapter 29: A Love Like War
"Heart's on fire tonight, feel my bones ignite..."
"Wait," Nora said, squinting. She placed her index on her chin. "You're together-together?"
Nex shrugged, staring at the stage below. His partner did the same, probably trying her best to tune out the overactive bard. And definitely failing, judging from the twitching of her eyebrows.
"For the forty-seventh time this Wednesday, Nora," Nex said, killing the sigh in his chest. Fuck. "Yes. Weiss and I are together-together."
Ren sighed, shaking his head as he dragged a squirming bard away.
The AX and the BR of their little clique were off playing some video games or doing who knows what else. Well, probably reading a book in the ghost-ninja's case, while the silver-eyed girl tinkered with Crescent Rose or messed around with her semblance. The two pairs had combat class in the afternoon while they had it in the morning. Their teacher would be swamped if she did not divide their batch into two.
Beacon's combat classroom was a far cry from the one in Atlas Primary. For one it, was a stage instead of a field of grass. Second, the hard light barriers were fences instead. The tangible blue light stopped the peanut gallery from falling into the stage. Third, there was no sound dampening of any sort.
Apparently, Professor Goodwitch was the type of teacher to be a little more hands-on with her craft.
The woman paced around the stage, her green eyes picking out someone.
Someone beside him.
Huh.
Nex blinked, rubbing his eyes just to be sure. But their teacher's eyes were definitely staring right into his.
"Mr Shade, you wouldn't be opposed to participating in today's first spar, would you?" Professor Goodwitch said, pointing her riding crop at him. "You've been very docile since the start of the semester. I don't think you've even participated in a single spar."
Admittedly, that was true. There was little point in fighting for what amounted to glorified exhibition matches.
But Professor Goodwitch would probably not take no for an answer.
"Nope," Nex said, gripping his weapon. The hilt bit into his left palm. "I'm okay with a spar."
Professor Goodwitch glanced at another student in the loose crowd. "Very well then. Mr Winchester will be your opponent. Combatants, step forward when you're ready."
That sweetened the deal a lot.
Nex smirked, laying his other hand on his partner's hip. "Ready to see Dumbchester stuck in a bed? Maybe stuck with a catheter?"
Weiss shot him a sideways glance, mirroring his smirk. "Don't overdo it. This is still a sanctioned match. However, if you just so happen to accidentally rough him up a little..."
"I'm sure no one will blame me," Nex said, heaving a sigh. It was such a shame. Such a fucking shame. "I can't be expected to hold back, right?"
Weiss pushed him towards the stage. Her smirk seemed to grow, stretching up the corners of her eyes.
Nex descended the flight of stairs, fingering the pommel of Hrunting and Vigilance. There was no need to use it in its complete form.
But it was there.
So very there.
Topped only by the particular brand of coffee they shared before curfew. And probably the one under the blanket after they woke up, making sure their teammates did not hear-
Nex shook his head, standing across Dumbchester. He really had to stop thinking about her for now, despite the fact that she was probably also thinking about him.
"You scared, pet?" Dumbchester said, smirking as he hefted an oversized mace over his shoulder. It was probably compensating for something he lacked. And Pareidolia confirmed it definitely was. "Your mistress can't protect you now."
It could not be possible. But it apparently was.
Cardin Dumbchester thought he needed Weiss Schnee to protect him. What Cardin Dumbchester failed to realize was he needed Nexus Shade to protect him from Weiss Schnee.
She was definitely scarier than him when angered, her temper running hot and burning out quickly. His temper ran cold, lasting for years on end. Colder than even ice. Anger froze his veins while he plotted out the most insidious ways to lash out at those who earned his ire.
Case in point—he who shall not be named.
But still, there really was no point in thinking about his father.
Nex shrugged, drawing his weapon with his left hand. No point in dividing it. "I happen to be more merciful than Weiss. I'll try my best to be gentle with you, Dumbchester."
"If you're done," Professor Goodwitch said, crossing her arms as she stood on the side-lines. "As a reminder, this class abides by the standard tournament rules. The combatant whose aura hits the red first is out of the match."
Her green eyes lingered on him.
Nex shrugged. What did he do this time?
Professor Goodwitch turned her head, her eyes zooming towards Dumbchester. "If you're ready, you may begin."
Nex squeezed.
Unseen gears clicked, his weapon shivering.
Anticipating the fight.
The barrels pressed into the sheathe, fusing the sword and its scabbard—the sleek cannons stark over the scabbard's flat as they protruded from the cross-guard. Vigilance slid up Hrunting's guard, rendering the two inseparable. The scabbard's golden rim crunched, narrowing into the sharps of a double-edged sword.
Nex released the trigger. His index brushed the rest.
No.
No.
The dust Vigilance funnelled into Hrunting should be enough—anything more was overkill. Pulling that out was overkill.
No need to bring down the roof on their heads, after all.
Hrunting and Vigilance in its cannon-sword form could do the job. More than do it, even, judging from how Dumbchester performed in his previous matches.
But, well—
Pareidolia flared.
Dumbchester sprinted across the stage, positioning his mace under his elbow for an upward stroke.
The idiot stilled. Grey wine lapped against the walls of a half-full glass.
Slow. Awfully slow. Slower than even Nora on her worst day.
The world blurred. Grainy like in those black and white documentaries. Lines of data raced through his brain. Calculating exactly where the idiot would strike. And what could happen next.
Openings. Hundreds of them.
The idiot's entire body was a giant tumour of flaws and amateur mistakes—ripe for Pareidolia to pick apart.
Ripe for Hrunting and Vigilance to deconstruct.
Nex stepped to the side, letting the mace brush his elbow. He spun with the motion. His hips twisted, his weapon whistling towards Dumbchester's exposed side.
Gold met grey.
Steel skittered over steel.
His finger twitched.
The cannons roared, spitting a bolt of thunder straight into the idiot's metal hide.
Dumbchester soared, flailing as he farted out a trail of sparks. His limbs convulsed as smoke rose through the joints of his armour.
The idiot crashed into the floor, screaming as he threw away his mace and pawed at his breastplate.
Well, there was a reason why huntsmen and huntresses refrained from wearing full armour. In a world where lightning dust existed, the risk of being roasted alive was too great.
But apparently, for idiots like Cardin Dumbchester, the risk did not exist at all.
Pity.
He should have used ice instead. Turn the idiot into a living popsicle or something. The cold would seep through his armour, numbing his insides while his aura dripped down the drain.
The match would have been longer and more agonizing. But now, there really was no point in extending their friendly spar.
Nex placed his boot on Dumbchester's chest, pushing down with all his weight. He donned a saintly smile, levelling Hrunting and Vigilance at the downed idiot's mug. His weapon's golden tip poked Dumbchester's nose. Angry, red lines were seared into the pale flesh of his neck—the results of a science experiment gone right.
Their eyes met.
The idiot's eyes trembled.
"Hurry. Dumbchester. Forfeit," Nex said, his saintly smile turning into a saintly smirk. A wicked canine brushed the edge of his lips. "I'd hate to turn that ugly mug of yours into barbecue."
Where hate was equivalent to something else, admittedly. But they did not need to know that.
Professor Goodwitch coughed. "This spar is over. Cardin Winchester is immobilized and his aura is in the red. The match goes to Nexus Shade."
Nex sighed, stepping off his prey. "Pheh. Way to ruin my fun."
"Whohoooo!"
Nora the Bard sang from the peanut gallery.
"Down with Cardin! Down with the bullies!"
The entire class chortled, only to flinch when Professor Goodwitch cleared her throat and crossed her arms.
Nex returned Hrunting and Vigilance to his belt.
The unseen gears clicked, ejecting the scabbard from the sword's grip.
Hrunting's barrels loosened, protruding out of Vigilance. The razor-sharp rim whirred, shrinking back into the sheathe.
It was back to looking like a shotgun-sword inside its scabbard, Hrunting's sleek barrels running over Vigilance—down to an eighth of its length.
Definitely nothing fishy there.
Maybe ice dust would have been better. Oh well, oh well. Next time then.
"Mr Winchester, you should reconsider your choice of apparel," Professor Goodwitch said, stepping between them. "Wearing full armour in a fight against a dust mage is a risky proposition, even if it is effective against the Grimm."
Dumbchester nodded, hobbling to his feet.
The idiot glared at him, holding a hand to his side. As if it was his fault he exploited his blatant weakness. It was nothing personal. Certainly nothing personal about ending their spar with one humiliating strike.
"Mr Shade, you should participate more in class so I can form a proper assessment of your abilities," Professor Goodwitch said, shooting him a pointed look. Hardly unexpected, considering he did it again. Winning spars with one hit and all. Old habits died hard. "Your records say that you graduated as the best combatant of your batch from Atlas Primary."
Right. But it hardly mattered. There really was no point in arbitrary rankings and power levels. Anyone could die if they were stabbed or shot in the back, after all.
Professor Goodwitch crossed her arms, her eyes darting to his weapon. "But your official transcripts reveal surprisingly little about your abilities. Not even your semblance or a list of your weapon's derived forms. Why is that?"
Nex shrugged. There was no way to answer that without hurting Dumbchester's tender feelings—the idiot now glaring at him as if he just killed his dog.
"I never used my weapon's other forms in Atlas Primary," Nex said. Technically the truth—his weapon being Hrunting and Vigilance. Not either of them alone. Well, his longsword, spear, dagger, shotgun, and shield were more like his half-weapons. "And my semblance is a little subtler than most. You could say it skews the odds to my favour."
Nothing but the truth. Not as if he could simply blurt out an explanation about Pareidolia and Hrunting and Vigilance right in front of the class. That would have been stupid—something that only happened in Ruby's comic books.
"I see," Professor Goodwitch said with a curt nod, a smile curling her lips. She seemed amused by something. Well, good for her. "Then I'll update your records to account for whatever you display in my class. You may return to the stands."
Professor Goodwitch glanced at Dumbchester. "And you, Mr Winchester. You'll proceed to the infirmary for treatment. I do hope you've learned your lesson."
Nex grinned, running a finger across his neck. Dumbchester growled, red-faced as he limped off the stage. He picked up the mace and dragged the overcompensating weapon along the floor.
Nex clambered up the stands, stopping right beside his partner.
"That was satisfying," Nex said, breathing a sigh. "You think I should have used ice instead?"
Weiss smirked. "I think I'll be taking that one myself."
Terrifying.
And it was exactly why Dumbchester needed him for protection. There was absolutely no way the idiot would have escaped with only a few burns if Weiss had been chosen as his opponent.
Dumbchester would have went down with at least a concussion. Maybe even a stiff arm from being frozen solid, or a few puncture wounds from her rapier.
Myrtenaster was designed to pierce through vulnerable joints.
"Miss Schnee, you'll be participating in today's second match," Professor Goodwitch said, glancing at his partner. "I trust you have no objections?"
Weiss nodded, placing her left hand on Myrtenaster. "No, Professor Goodwitch. I'm ready to participate."
And she was back to being formal.
"Very well then. Your opponent will be Miss Nikos," Professor Goodwitch said. "Both of you, step forward when you're ready."
And she was back to being stiff.
"What's wrong?" Nex said, tapping her shoulder. "It's just a spar, right?"
Weiss frowned, tightening her grip on Myrtenaster's hilt. "Nikos is the famed Invincible Girl. She's the four-time champion of the Mistral regional tournament. I can't possibly win against her."
Why did it even matter?
Oh.
Oh well, oh well.
She probably saw Nikos as an insurmountable obstacle. But then again, there was that saying about an unstoppable force.
"You haven't even tried yet," Nex said, smiling. He nudged her hip. "Don't start a fight with the intent to lose."
If she fought thinking she was going to lose, then it would cripple her performance. Mindset was half the battle. Tactics and application was the other half.
Weis shook her head. "I won't. I'd hate to disappoint my partner."
"Good," Nex said, nudging her towards the stage. "I'd hate to watch my partner lose."
Weiss nodded, loping down the stairs—a woman on a mission, rapier at the ready. She arrived at the same time as the redhead—the redhead who was always the missing P in Team PWDS.
Cardin Dumbchester's team.
He had no bone to pick with her.
But still, why exactly did she not hang around her team, especially since she was the leader?
In fact, it almost seemed like Dumbchester was the leader of Team PWDS instead of her.
Pyrrha Nikos stared down Weiss Schnee.
The green-eyed redhead held a round shield and a shortsword.
Weiss brandished her rapier, raising it into a salute.
Nikos smiled, bowing as she mirrored his partner's gesture, her sword over her face.
"May we have a fair and honourable match, Weiss Schnee," Nikos said, her face awfully flat. Sounding flat as well.
The back of his partner's head bobbed as she nodded, her ponytail right beside his hood.
"And to you as well, Pyrrha Nikos," Weiss said.
Ugh.
There was no honour on the battlefield. His match with Dumbchester proved that.
There was only the sword.
The sword, the hunt, and victory.
Or death should he fall.
"If you're ready," Professor Goodwitch said, crossing her arms on the side-lines. "You may begin."
Pareidolia engaged, turning its lens on the redhead.
Analysis of her weapons revealed her sword transformed into a rifle and a javelin. She had pretty good range, almost equivalent to his own, if not for the fact that Hrunting and Vigilance boasted more versatile forms than her weapons.
Her shield was sleek and round. Aerodynamic. Lending itself well to being hurled like a frisbee. Nothing about it suggested similar gimmicks to Vigilance. It was probably just an ordinary shield.
Well, shit.
Weiss was going to lose the match.
Pyrrha Nikos was the worst opponent for her. Next to him, Yang, or even Nora.
The redhead's muscular shoulders implied an aptitude for rigorous, physical combat. Her body language screamed experience. It was in the way she angled her feet to account for his partner's fencing stance. The way she held her weapons to compensate for their difference in height.
Her sword and shield would trounce his partner's rapier if she could close the gap. She probably could, considering her supposed fame as the Invincible Girl—as dumb and pretentious as that title was.
No one was really invincible, after all.
Anyone could fall if a poisoned dagger slipped through their ribs.
But still, he could be wrong.
And well, he often was.
To her credit, Weiss stepped back and swished Myrtenaster. Spears of ice rained from above.
Nikos rolled away, lunging into a mad sprint towards Weiss.
The redhead got the right idea. Closing the gap was her win condition. Whittling down Nikos with ranged attacks would allow Weiss to win the spar. He would have definitely done the same. Or perhaps he would have simply forfeited.
There really was certainly no point in beating up his partner and his girlfriend. Not even if it won him a match.
Whips of fire lashed at the redhead.
Nikos tucked her body, spinning over the flame. In the same motion, she hurled her shield at Weiss.
Pareidolia confirmed it was aimed at Myrtenaster. Smart. Take out her supply of dust and her glyphs would be next to useless.
The shield crashed into a blue glyph, screeching as it bounced off. It spun—a bronze blur embedding itself into the ceiling. It was a near fatal counter—the flaw in Nikos' attack.
Weiss' play just shifted the battle. A rapier would do much better against a sword without its shield.
By then, he would have crushed Nikos in melee, overwhelming her lone sword with Hrunting and Vigilance. No need for its complete form, even.
But Weiss had Myrtenaster instead and none of his obsessive training.
Hopefully, she thought the same.
Nex groaned, his left hand slapping his cheek.
Pareidolia mewled, shrinking back into its cave. Contemplating the meaning of existence or something.
Fuck.
If only it were so.
Weiss lunged at Nikos, a white glyph spinning on her boots.
The redhead parried the telegraphed thrust, lashing out with a high kick. Her metal boot smashed into the side of his partner's face—the one with the scar.
Nex fingered Hrunting and Vigilance, running his index over the rough hilt. Stopping right over that trigger.
Was it too late to volunteer for another round?
Beacon could probably rebuild a classroom.
Right?
The bar under his partner's mug went from green to yellow.
Being squishy had its cons.
Weiss flinched.
Nikos rammed into her chest.
The two women fell, entangled on the floor. Metal screeched, flattening his extra pair of ears.
Her shield fell.
The redhead caught it with her left hand and placed its rim on his partner's neck.
Odd.
The shield should not have fallen that quick. There was something strange about it. A variable Pareidolia failed to account for.
But that was neither here nor there. Right now, his partner was going to have an ugly bruise on her face.
Nex drew a long, deep breath. Vigilance had some ice dust left—the last of its dwindling supply. His partner could still get away without feeling the brunt of it.
"This spar is over," Professor Goodwitch said, waving her hand. "Weiss Schnee is incapacitated. The match goes to Pyrrha Nikos."
Nikos clambered off Weiss, holding out her hand.
Weiss took it with a smile. She patted away the creases from her coat. His hood hung from her back, fluttering as she swayed on her feet. She fastened Myrtenaster to her hip, even as she shook her head.
"Miss Nikos, your grasp of the battlefield is admirable," Professor Goodwitch said. "But throwing away your shield was a risky wager. Try to avoid doing something similar in the future."
Nikos nodded, placing her weapons on her back. She pursed her lips.
Professor Goodwitch turned to his partner. "Miss Schnee, you approached the battle from ranged, and you could have won because of it. You should learn to assess which openings to exploit and which to ignore."
Their teacher got that right.
He would have repulsed Nikos with a burst of gravity, then hobbled her with hard light and thunder—an elemental blitz. In theory, at least. Or even fire, thunder, and ice, like in his match against one Ruby Rose.
But then again, there really was no point crying over spilled milk.
The two exchanged hushed words before they returned to the stands. Probably just formalities or something.
"Come here," Nex said, gesturing at his partner. "I don't want that bruise on your face."
Weiss smirked, her left cheek bearing the start of an ugly purple. "Oh, very well, partner. If it troubles you that much."
Nex touched his scabbard, drawing on nature's wrath. He cupped her left cheek.
Weiss sighed, closing her eyes as she leaned into his palm.
His hand glowed pale-blue, the purple starting to recede, giving way to pink-tinged pale. It was definitely healthy enough. Her aura would take care of the rest.
Nex removed his hand, smiling at her scar. "There. How does it feel?"
"Better," Weiss said, breathing a sigh of relief. Her eyes snapped open. "You're not worried?"
Nex shrugged. "Do they worry you?"
There was already a we in the equation, after all.
Weiss grinned, shaking her head. "Not anymore. I think you're a bad influence on me, Mr Shade."
Bad and good were relative. But just this once, she would have her victory.
"Yep. I think I am, Miss Schnee," Nex said, glancing at the door. "Want to skip the rest? Find a tree somewhere? Maybe get a cup of coffee?"
Weiss scowled, fixing him a heated glare. A glare like a few nights ago—splashing fire over his traitorous stomach. "You haven't influenced me that much. Not yet, anyway."
Nex grinned.
She smiled, her hand slipping into his.
It was worth a try.