Chapter 3: How to Be a Huntsman


Professor Oobleck took a long, dragging, slurping sup from his signature thermos before chirping rather emphatically, "What is the definition of a Huntsman?"

That this was the way he started the class wasn't in itself a surprise, but rather the question itself, and how initially out of place it seemed in the History class. It had never been the class Jaune paid the most attention in, but that question had certainly stolen his attention now. And by the looks of his peers, none of which offered a blurt of answer or a raised hand—even Weiss—he imagined that they felt much the same way he did.

Oobleck zipped about the room in his usual fashion, stopping, explaining, only to find a new spot where he continued as if he had never moved in the first place. "You might give a textbook sort of answer such as "An occupation in which trained soldiers hunt and eliminate the Grimm" or perhaps something more noble and grand such as, "The defenders of the world and paragons of peace." Both of which are correct, technically. But, as with many words and occupations that have existed for centuries, their definitions change over time as well."

"It need not be repeated the events which led to the construction of the four primary academies, if you were vigilant enough last year, you know doubt have it well memorized." Oobleck raised a finger. "But before their construction, indeed before the Great War, how were Huntsmen trained? Where were they trained? Were they even called Huntsmen? In this class, we will be focusing on the origin and the evolution of the Huntsman system. It's a long and complicated history, and the many ways in which we define our purpose."

Sounded pretty straightforward to Jaune.

"You may wonder if such history is necessary, but the root of wisdom and strength and knowledge. As second years, you are no longer candidates in this long line of warriors. You are now the latest generation. Soon you must take up the mantle, and the world will become your responsibility. But those who will inherit the world must know it's history. Most importantly, the trials by which your predecessors laid the foundation of your training. It is the hope of every preceding generation that the next in line surpass them. Are you capable of such a thing? I will withhold my hopes yet. But we shall be watching." He peered his glasses down, and sharp serious eyes gave the room a once over. "I suggest you do not disappoint us."

Jaune swallowed, and he noticed that he was far from the only one. Knowing more would be expected of them was one thing. But actually hearing it, from the old guard no less, was scarier than he thought. These were the people who made it, those who'd overcome their training, survived against the worst of the worst, and now spread their knowledge and experiences to the wide-eyed and ignorant upstarts. In a way, it was like a challenge. It was a challenge. Meet our expectations or be tossed aside—it hardly was left to guesswork.

He looked down at his table, the same spot he'd sat last year. The same spot he fell asleep in multiple times, or failed a test because he didn't understand the material, or otherwise sat pitying himself in detention. He cringed just thinking about it, like how one might recall their most embarrassing situations, even if no one had been around to see it. He couldn't allow any of those setbacks to happen this year. This wasn't a game anymore.

He looked around at the others, caught their determined, challenged looks too. Some were already making note of some of the things Oobleck was saying, their pens probably moving faster than the teacher himself. Even Cardin, who had once spared no expense at showing his lack of care toward the class, now was as focused like an eagle that spotted prey down in the ravine. Jaune realized then, perhaps obviously, that he was not the only one that had changed.

It was very possible that while he'd been gone, everyone else had pulled ahead of him again.

"Now, open your textbooks to page thirty. I suggest you pay very close attention, children, for those who don't, will be left behind. And those left behind shall be reduced to mere footnotes in the books to be one day written about their peers. Strive to become legends, not afterthoughts."

As Jaune opened his book and began to follow Oobleck, somehow able to despite how fast he talked, he thought about what he wanted now.

Last year, he'd wanted to prove he had the potential to become a Huntsman. By some miracle, he had, and that had been liberating for all of a few days. But that was in the past.

Strive to become legends, Professor Oobleck had said. Footnotes were forgotten, and the thought of that, after everything he'd accomplished, birthed a new fire within him.

He would not become a legend.

He would become the legend.


Strive to become legends, not afterthoughts. In Pyrrha's long, tired, frankly hellish experience, she much preferred the latter.

She understood Oobleck's point. No doubt it was a good one. Strong Huntsmen were born out of strong wills and desires, and those who wanted to become the best often did in some manner. Was the Invincible Girl not the most quintessential example in recent history?

But look what happened to that girl. She was a broken, misguided, haughty monster with no concern for anything outside her own needs. Powerful beyond a shadow of a doubt and with all the potential besides, but a terrible person, a terrible friend, and the damage she'd caused was almost irreparable. It went without saying that Pyrrha did not want to follow the same path her old self had, even if it might help her become stronger. Being the best? It didn't carry the same fire it used to anymore.

She was content with being average, with not being mentioned or praised, because that was safe. That would ensure her old problems never surfaced again. BEcause they weren't gone, her therapist had said issues this deep never go away, but simply you get better at managing them. The expert proved to know best, as Pyrrha could at times feel that competitive spirit, that desire not just to win, but to conquer. The need to be the best. But she pushed those feelings down, down, down into the deepest chasms of her mind, and tried to raise up the traits of the new Pyrrha.

Honesty, kindness, supportiveness… humility. Just that last word tasted like oil in her mouth. But it was necessary. To become a good person, a good partner, a good teammate.

Maybe some part of her wanted to be the best still.

But being the best had gotten her nowhere. She was content with being in the background. It was the safest path.

Even if she didn't much like it.


Blake cut the air with a single fast and powerful swing, the aura emitted from the blade came out clean, tall as a person, thin as paper, sharper than steel. Jaune could feel the strange heat coming from the ethereal beam as it skirted across the pavement as smoothly as an ice skater across a frozen lake. There was almost no sound as the beam blade cut right through an Atlesian Knight 270, the torso sliding off smoothly as its seared insides sparked with desperate life.

Before exploding.

That was what brought on the applause from the class. Even Jaune had to admit that he was thoroughly impressed to see it. Blake, of course, played off the act coolly, even though Jaune was sure she was preening inside. Professor Peach came up to her, looking proud, and observing the destroyed robot now blown into a thousand charred pieces. "Good work, Miss Belladonna. From what Miss Goodwitch tells me, you have been able to use this technique since last year, correct?"

Blake nodded.

"Impressive." And she turned to the class. "Who can tell me the name of that technique?"

"The Flying Aura Slash!" some random yelled from the back.

"Correct. That is an advanced aura technique, too difficult for first years to learn." Peach smiled. "But you are no longer first years. Welcome to Advanced Aura, Year 2. The path to discovering the new forms your aura will take is a long and arduous one, perhaps even more so than the discovery of one's semblance. Nonetheless, the access of these secondary abilities, in those that can, can be a great addition to your skillset. Advanced attacking and defense, extra-human movement, ethereal energy constructs, even future sight." She gave a dramatic pause. "When you were first years, you often specialized. Your abilities were fine-tuned to a singular style. Now, you must become like a swiss army knife—flexible, applicable, ready for any situation. Not all of these extensions of aura can be used by everyone, but no less, they are the next step toward crafting oneself into the finest Huntsman he can be. Those who do not? Well, they will rust and wither and be scrapped, and room will be made for the true elite."

Jaune didn't think he would ever see the day that Peach was intimidating. Her eyes adopted an unnatural hardness, like she's seen horrors they could only imagine. Her words were not just words, they were promises. And just as quickly, the hardened Huntress was replaced with the tender, calm teacher he'd known. "Well, that was a long introduction. What are we waiting for? Let's begin."


Professor Goodwitch was no less intimidating than she had been a year before, regardless of how used to it Jaune was.

She looked up at the class from her perch down in the ring, which should have made her seem small by comparison, and yet the space and respect she commanded assured even those yet to meet her that she was not a woman to be trifled with. Those eagle-eyes proved sharp as ever, quite as if her students were in the same places they were now, which was technically true in one way, but very different in another. "Second years, welcome back," she began. "You've grown. You were children when you were first put under my care. Now, you are adults, fully recognized Huntsmen apprentices." Her eyes narrowed further. "But, are you strong Huntsmen? Are you capable Huntsmen? Over this new year, this will be the question to which you must provide the answer. At Beacon Academy we nurture those with strength, and discard the weak. Some of the people in this very room may not be standing with you in the coming months. Perhaps you won't be standing with them."

Jaune caught her eye as she said, "It matters not how you got here, but that you are here at all. If you mean to stay, then strive to become the best you can be, and more."

Goodwitch paced out of the arena, while an elaborate hologram popped up before the class. Images of Huntsmen and Grimm, of data boards, and various mission types, all blended neatly together. "Missions will be the highest determining factor in your final grades. As such, while your first year focused on your individual strengths, this year shall focus on your abilities as a collective. As teams."

That made sense, Jaune had to admit. Though it did make him a little nervous on what to expect. He hadn't been with his team for half a year, and there hadn't been any time to get familiar with what new skills they might have. The same of course went the other way around, but now what was being judged was different. He might be called Champion now, but in the field of teamwork, he had no idea where he stood in the rankings.

"You will come to find that the strength of the individual is but a pinprick in the face of the power of teamwork. Even the strongest warrior alone is no match for a team that is one of mind and goal. In this class, I will push your teams to their absolute limit. I will pluck out the gaps and flaws with vice and tweezer—you can be certain that I will not miss, nor let go uncriticized, a single mistake. Let us have a few partner matches, shall we?"

The randomization screen replaced the mission board, two columns of names spinning along their virtual wheel, and Jaune almost smiled at the nostalgia of it before it settled on names.

Jaune Arc & Pyrrha Nikos versus Ruby Rose and Weiss Schnee.

"Whoo!" Ruby jumped up out of her seat, shaking with excitement.

Weiss merely stood, calm as ever, though Jaune did not miss that deadly, challenging smirk she had.

He'd expected to have to fight, but he hadn't really realized until then that he had not trained with Pyrrha specifically. Let alone even talked to her. It also hadn't escaped his notice that Weiss and Ruby had spent the rest of their year and summer honing their team skills, too. The perfectionist Weiss was, Jaune did not doubt that they'd drilled themselves to absolutely the best they could be. In essence, this was the worst match-up possible for him.

He looked at his partner as she stood. No particular reaction on her face, or maybe he was just that bad at reading her. Pyrrha was one of the best, or at least she had been. She beat whole teams by herself, at least in the past. Being the top of his year had to mean something even in a team battle… so long as she was still that good.

"Good luck, glorious leader." Nora patted his back as he stood, and he sent her a reassured smile before catching up with Pyrrha.

"Do you have a plan?" Pyrrha asked.

"Why ask me?" Jaune hedged.

"You're the leader."

"Of the team, not just you."

"I'm sure not all of us have to be in attendance for you to give orders. Do you have a plan?"

Jaune sighed, and glanced over at Ruby and Weiss, who were talking and obviously making plans together with serious faces as they headed to the other side of the ring. They looked in sync even then.

"They're both physically weaker than us. Er, maybe." Jaune said, "This is kind of basic, but we should break them up."

"Divide and Conquer?"

Jaune shook his head. "They'll have planned for something like that. Maybe." God, he was beginning to realize how much of a disadvantage this really was. He had no clue how far his friends had evolved. At least during the tournament he knew what to expect in general. Now there was only room to guess. "Let's just lead with Misdirection. I'll attack, you defend."

Pyrrha gave pause. "That's not usually how we did it."

She wasn't wrong. His strongest use back then was his defense and that was the role he played in any of the team strategies, while everyone else played vastly flexible roles. But that was back when he was a weakling. If he was to become the best, to remain one of the best, he had to show everyone why. Even his own partner. "It'll be good for us to play both roles in our team combinations. Back then, I only played defense."

"You were good at it."

"Being good at one thing isn't enough anymore."

"Jaune, you have no ranged skills as far as I know. My rifle is better suited—"

Jaune turned to her. "You asked me for the plan, didn't you?"

She paused. "Yes."

"I'm the leader. That's what you said, right?"

Pyrrha closed her eyes. "Of course."

"Then I need you to just do what I say. I will keep their attention, while you hang back. When I signal you, we double up and take down Weiss together first. Alright?"

She nodded and they entered the area, where Ruby and Weiss were ready and waiting. Pyrrha drew her sword and shield and readied herself. Jaune thought to do so himself, but figured it best to play a bit of a mental game here. He rested his hand on the hilt of his sword, gently rubbing the pommel as he stared toward his opponents with the best look of indifference he could make. He caught Weiss's questioning narrowing of the eyes, and knew he got her. That part of her hadn't changed, at least. It always started with a seed of confusion, watered with a great deal of surprise until it grew into a sprout of doubt, into a mighty tree of defeat. Or something like that. Professor Goodwitch looked between both teams before stepping back and allowing the screen to start the countdown.

"Jaune, what are you doing? Draw your sword." Pyrrha whispered.

"Just focus on your part. And I'll do mine." Pyrrha probably doubted him even now, but that was fine.

He'd learned long ago that he thrived on being underestimated.