Author's Notes:
Hey. You come here often?
Early update this time, mostly because the ending of the last chapter was a cliff-hanger and I don't want to keep all of you suspended without any sort of respite. It's Cardin vs Jaune this chapter and it is solely that. 10k~ words dedicated to this fight. However, it might devolve further than a simple school-regulated duel.
There were also some understandable confusions about last chapter's final segment on CVFY plot relevance and Ozpin's little ploy. All I can say, is that Jaune will have his reasons and they will be explained so withhold your skeptical eyebrows.
On a completely unrelated note, you realise that sometimes I differentiate my use of 'God' and 'gods'? It sounds more appropriate that I make characters like Qrow and Yang yell 'Oh my God!' or 'God damn it…' instead of 'Oh, gods…' like more regal characters (looking at you Weiss). It's just kind of weird. Maybe I can chalk it up to them being more well-read and understanding more about history and religions.
Though that doesn't really make sense, seeing as though Qrow knows about the gods of Light and Dark anyway – yet chooses to refer to a single higher being…
Just thought I'd put that out there. Enjoy the chapter.
"Begin!"
"Holy crap – Professor Ozpin just did a triple backflip off of the balcony!" Jaune yelled a millisecond after Miss Goodwitch had sanctioned their battle to start. The boy was in anything but a fighting stance, finger pointed out into the distance behind Cardin and face pulled back in pure disbelief.
They had him going for a second, he'd admit, but eventually every single one of the heads in the arena room twisted to lay eyes on the sight that he had described with such adamant certainty. And Jaune meant everyone. Well, not the combat professor; she instead expelled a quiet sigh from her mouth and held the bridge of her nose tightly. It was pretty obvious that she couldn't believe that anyone present had fallen for the ploy
Honestly? Jaune shared the sentiment. But people wanted to believe it was true, so they looked. That was just how people worked sometimes, no matter how stupid it was.
The ever benevolent-looking headmaster of Beacon Academy letting lose with a sweet triple backflip? If it was true, anyone would have kicked themselves if they had missed it. And while everyone was taking a good look at absolutely nothing, Jaune unclipped something from his torso belt before fiddling with its contents. At the same time, the magnetic holster on his arm bracer loosened Crocea Mors' shield with a click.
Cardin turned back to his opponent with a look of disgust and confusion. "There isn't even a balcony here; we're inside-!" Before he could finish his line of thought, a solid lumbar of steel in the form of Crocea Mors' sheathe came flying at his face and the tip of the case smashed into him square in the nose. A flare of dark grey shot up above his skin as Cardin grabbed his face, recoiling slightly and stumbling back as he struggled to open his eyes through the tears. "What the f-!?"
Rule number three of Vul's Guide to the Universe: 'Never take your eyes off of the enemy'. Evidently, Cardin hadn't done his assigned readings before the fight. There was a flash of silver and soon there were sparks. A swift overhead strike met a barely scraped together block and the two boys met in a deadlock as both of Jaune's hands were firmly placed onto the hilt of his lineage-led weapon as he tried to push for an advantage.
"Dirty play, Arc…" Cardin managed through grit teeth. Hell, he was somehow pushing back even though he was under the entirety of Jaune's bodyweight. Cerulean orbs widened before his own teeth ground against each other, veins popping in his neck and muscles all across his arms and legs straining to push back against the other boy's surprising amount of strength.
"There are no dirty plays…" Was Jaune's response, though each word spoken gave up a slight bit of ground. Even if he was losing the deadlock, the blond pushed his neck forward where his arms could not and spat from just behind the edge of his blade. "Only the ones that get you better results."
With a roar, Cardin managed to break the deadlock as he grabbed the other end of his mace and used both of his arms to push Crocea Mors to the side, forcing Jaune himself to stumble to the side before regaining his footing and pivoting to face his brown-haired opponent once more. The opponent in question had a shit-eating grin on his face as he ran a thumb under his nose and hefted his weapon onto the metal pauldron on his shoulder and started to circle the boy he had reversed the pressure from.
Soon enough, they were circling each other the same way two predators might. Rolling his wrist, Jaune made Crocea Mors whirl around in his arm before coming to a one armed stance – left palm behind his sword arm open and ready to catch any overextended appendage to take better advantage of a mistake.
Cardin… Cardin was strong. And Jaune thought that was an understatement. Jaune thought he was strong. No, Cardin had raw strength greater than even him. Sure, he could use his Semblance but that would only be so that he could compete with the other's naturally gifted horsepower. It made him wonder how he got his arm snapped by Coco. Her fanged smirk appeared in the blond's mind before he shook it out of his head. Don't get distracted, Jaune. You've got a job to do.
And that job was to teach Cardin a lesson.
Growling through his throat and closed lips, Jaune burst forward, arm drawn over his left shoulder and let loose backhanded strike that was more akin to a blur of silver, steel and yellow. It was met once again as both Aura and metal sparked at the same time. Another swing was met with the same results. The chime of sliver on black was echoed by the shuffle of Jaune's various grenades and clips that decorated his assortment of belts and pouches. Another. Another. How was Cardin twisting that two-handed weapon like it was a stick? Be it any other person and Jaune would have sworn their wrists would have pulled.
His frustration was evident as the blonde grasped both palms on his sword on the rebound of a strike and came back on a powerful dual-handed horizontal strike from his right to left. His furrowed brow and iron expression faltered a second later. He had made a mistake.
It was too telegraphed. The action was too obvious. And as much as Jaune hated to admit it, Cardin earned his place here at Beacon just as much as he did. He may not have endured the same hellish route to get to it but the final test was the same for the both of them. Maybe Jaune was a little arrogant in his own ability. He had come from basically nothing, after all. Though, it looked like this time that arrogance was his own undoing as Cardin basically batted aside his attack – using Jaune's built momentum all against him in a perfectly timed parry.
Jaune would have let out a gasp in surprise, but to do so would ruin his breathing pattern. Instead, he settled for visibly gritting his teeth and bracing himself for what Cardin was about to do to finish the phrase in this song of steel.
As Jaune stepped back unwillingly – two arms flailing uselessly in the aftermath of the counter – Cardin took a step forward to proceed his own attack. Luckily, it was as telegraphed as his own strike that was so effortlessly parried since it seemed that the smug-looking boy in front of him was already going for the killing blow right off the bat. And in a second, it was going to be his head off of his bat if Jaune didn't get away from the devastating blow that was aiming to push his skull down into his own spine.
There was barely any space between his dirty gold locks and the heavy end of Cardin's mace as the weapon grazed past his skin and scraped the edge of his own golden-white Aura before smashing the floor with such an impact that it kicked up whatever material it was made of and formed a mini-crater right next to Jaune's boots. Twisting himself sideways to avoid the strike, Jaune stood-sideways on and felt the sheer force of Cardin's strike in the form of wind over behind his back.
However – as he turned his head to look at the crater - Jaune failed to notice that the attack had been completed with only one of Cardin's hands. And it seemed that the other was gunning for his cheek.
"Gah!"
He couldn't help the sound that game out of his mouth as Cardin's other fist collided with his cheek and sent him skidding along the floor. It was almost unnatural how far he was sent tumbling, though half of it was because Jaune's neck followed the flow of the punch to lessen the total impact to his head. But in the tumble, Jaune reached to his leg belt and the mechanical shifting was heard only by him.
Bang! Bang! Bang!
Cardin tore his arm back up to shield himself from the ranged assault on both his body and eardrums, but the damage was done. His Aura flared with every ping of a bullet and there were many more after that that graced the dark grey swathe on his person.
Bang! Bang! Bang!
Another three shots echoed in the arena pit that acted as the stage for their violent tango. There was a string of curses that erupted from the standing boy's mouth as he peeked through the window of his forearm to see Jaune's roll come to a stop as the boy came to a crouched standstill and let off another chorus of gunfire. Each and every bullet met the target, not like Cardin was doing much to make it otherwise; he seemed content with hunkering down and turtling out the fire.
Again. Again. Jaune pulled the trigger again. He had no qualms letting fly all the ammunition within the magazine until…
Click.
He was out.
Click. Click.
But Jaune still pulled the trigger a few more times just to make sure.
There were loud thumps of heavy metal boots meeting the hard material that made the arena floor. It seemed as though Cardin had realised he was out and was finally making his own move. And he was making it quick. Well, as quick as a fully metal-suited teenager could with a two-handed mace in tow.
Cursing under his breath, Jaune shifted Crocea Mors' blade from his right to his left and switched it with his black and yellow painted handgun before reaching into a pouch on his belt and tossing up a magazine. A click of the button and the old one was dropped like litter and the new clip was basically forced into the gun as the blond shoved the butt of the gun into the airborne clip with practised ease. The cold metal met the ivory of his teeth and Jaune bit down, causing the slide to be pulled back. With his weapon reloaded, Jaune extended his arm once more - bracing it for the recoil to come.
When you had a sword in one hand and a gun in the other, reloading a gun was hard – impossible, Jaune said at one point. Not like Vul cared, because he so usefully told Jaune to 'figure it out' since dropping either weapon for any length of time was dangerous and impractical.
One might have argued that this method was impractical either way. Well, to that, Jaune would have guessed that they never had to pull back a gun with their teeth while parrying blows. Came in useful. It only took a month or two of daily practise until he could do it whenever he wanted around half the time.
Hard, yes. Impractical, hell no.
Sea-blue eyes aimed down the sights and the echoing of dust-based gunfire resumed. One round became two. Two became four. Yet Cardin powered through, each bullet being deflected and flaring the other boy's Aura to defend against its effects. He was putting on a touch act but Jaune was almost completely certain that he was feeling the pain. Aura could do only so much.
As if to prove his hypothesis, Cardin yelled as he finally came within smashing range of the blonde, "Quit firing that thing, damn it!" The complaint was proceeded by a wide horizontal sweep aimed at Jaune's crouched position. And like some sort of bunny, Jaune managed a one-armed handspring from that very same position to jump back.
Evidently, Cardin couldn't believe it as he stared at the boy's practised form like it was in slow-motion as he mouthed something that rhymed with 'what the pluck' to himself. But as his eyes were tracking Jaune's form, their dark pupils eventually met the spiralling black eye of a gun barrel that suddenly flashed with light.
Another two shots followed as Jaune recovered from his backflip and let the dust in the magazine speak for him once more.
Though, it seemed that his opponent had learnt from his past mistakes. As opposed to just being a stationary target, Cardin decided that perhaps moving to root out of source of the problem would actually make the pain stop faster. He stormed forward, waving that mace of his back and forth (and, to his credit, caught the odd bullet or two the process) as he was eventually in the range of Jaune once more.
He swung.
And he missed. He was also shot. Again. In response, the armoured boy swung – raging in the direction of Jaune once more. A swing and a miss. And another dust round to his back, to which he recoiled in pain due to not expectantly flowing Aura there. People very rarely did unless they were constantly on guard, and it was something that Jaune was taking advantage of.
Cardin was beginning to lose patience – his canines showing as he snarled, "Would you just stop moving already? Stop jumping around like some sort of cricket!" In response, he received another shot to the shoulder and he audibly groaned in response; the same shoulder bucked back at the bullet.
Honestly? Jaune preferred something like a hare or a rabbit. Those just sounded cooler. But he supposed cricket wasn't far off.
From the very first days of Vul's training, the word 'dodge' was branded by molten iron into his nervous system. Don't get hit: no problems. Couple that with the fact that his Aura reserve was so vast, he could go for ages as long as his stamina didn't give out first (which was more often than not the case in his early losses against Vul).
As Jaune's trigger finger spasmed for the umpteenth time, and ducked under and around Cardin's wild swing for that amount - give or take another couple - he refused to admit the fact he was jumping over and around his opponent so much was due to the fact that he sort of dropped his sword when he did the back-handspring. Yeah, turns out you can't do that while holding a sword, who would have guessed?
Luckily, however, the raging bull in a full set of armour that was taking every single one of his magazine's dust-filled bullets didn't seem to catch on. If he did, all he would really need to do was kick the weapon to a place where he couldn't get to or actively prevent Jaune from getting his hands on it. That plan of action would leave him with a gun and limited amounts ammo. It also wasn't as if he was proficient at gun-whipping, or anything; who the hell was proficient in gun-whipping?
Jaune himself also doubted he had enough ammo to even whittle the boy down to the red in the first place. If Cardin did that, it would probably have to come down to a fists on mace and the blond wasn't exactly great at close-quarters-combat either. He was good, yeah – as good as you could get in a couple of months. But after one thing came another and Vul never let him spend too much time on a single skill. The woes of a timeframe, he supposed.
But the thoughts inadvertently brought him closer to the object in question. Inching closer and closer, the blond led around the brown-haired menace chasing him as he came into distance of Crocea Mors' blade.
And Cardin had no idea. "Will. You. Stop. Moving!" His mace was brought down as quickly as it was brought up, shaking the ground but missing Jaune by a mile as he ducked under Cardin's wide stance and slid through his legs and gave the goods a solid whack with his pistol as his combat trousers skidded surprisingly smoothly on the white surface underneath him. Understandably, his opponent dropped to a knee and clutched his crotch with his free hand as he cursed enough to make Vul raise an eyebrow.
Well, not really, Jaune knew. But the point was made.
"Why the fuck would you do that, Arc?!" Hey, his loss. In more ways than one. Miss Goodwitch was in earshot, and by the look on her face – she was anything but entertained as she tapped angrily onto her tablet scroll. "Where the hell is your honour- ngh!" He was cut off by a weight of steel and leather pushing itself against the mace as he tore it up in the nick of time.
For some reason, Jaune felt his skin crawl.
"I don't want to hear that from you…" The words coming out of this ignorant, overconfident child from across the two clashing weapons made Jaune's blood boil hotter than any fire that the Grimm have or ever will cause. The heat was felt by both parties as he spat venom.
In the first place, Jaune was the type to say that honour was dead – but you could chalk that up to biased adult influence. But the word 'honour' coming from a person like Cardin was like a punch to his stomach, if only that punch was fuel to his fire of wanting carve the other a new one for how shallow he sounded. He knew from the beginning that he had to teach Cardin a lesson, but how high of a pedestal he seemed to place himself on pissed Jaune off to a degree that was indescribable.
He didn't know anything about honour. He could see it: Velvet pleading as her ears were being tugged on like some sort of play-toy, the memory not at all distant.
He knew nothing about faunus. He knew nothing about man. Cardin knew nothing.
And Jaune was about to tell him everything he could.
/-/
Cardin's pupils trembled at the person in front of him.
The proud boy stared into the deep, dark sea of blue and saw red emerge from the raging waves. An inferno burning in the infinitely engulfing ocean. It was as if the Jaune from not ten minutes ago was replaced with something else. Something dangerous. Something that could honestly hurt him. It was like there was an honest-to-the-gods weapon standing on the other end of their deadlocked blades.
He didn't look like the same kid who bumped into Sky on his way to class. He didn't look like the blond kid that went out of his depth to save some dumb bunny during lunch period. Hell, he didn't look like the Arc that was standing ready to fight a few minutes ago.
No, this guy looked ready to kill someone. Cardin just hoped it wasn't him.
But he wouldn't let the blond think that he had him on the ropes. He was built better than that. Sculpted out of better stone. He was a Winchester. And this Jaune kid was going to be damned if he thought he was going to get the better of him that easy.
With a shout, he barely managed to push Jaune off with the help of building adrenaline due to his fight of flight instinct kicking up for whatever reason. And evidence would suggest that he picked the former of the two as he roared, coming up from a knee and bringing his two-handed mace behind him – its weight as deadly as it was plentiful in his hands.
Cardin pushed forward.
/-/
Ruby's silver eyes went from blond to brown rapidly as she slowly assessed: "Jaune is…"
"Winning. By a landslide." Red-tinted locks whipped to the side, only to lay metallic orbs on a lilac-eyed grinning older sister with hair that could have left someone speechless. Either by its beauty or by smothering them until they couldn't breathe anymore. She sat on the other side of Blake, leaning forward and looking across at her with a toothy smile. "`Sup, sis!"
"Yang?" Ruby's voice was coated in equal amounts of happy surprise and sad surprise. Yeah, her sister was pretty cool, but sometimes she was just too much. It made her wonder what she would even do without her. In any case, the caped girl quirked an eyebrow as she asked, "When'd you even get here?"
"We," the blonde girl gestured a hand with raised eyebrows to Pyrrha, who waved happily at her for a second before turning her attention back to the arena, and the rest of her team before coming back to her little sister. "Have been here the entire time." Yang turned her light violet eyes back to Jaune's fight as she added half-heartedly to her answer, "You guys were just too busy having your cute little team moment to notice."
"Urk…" The smaller girl recoiled visibly – arms coming up in front of her as she turned her body away.
Yeah. It was pretty cute, thinking back on it. But Yang having front row seats was also kind of embarrassing because of how assertive and vocal she was at times. Ruby slumped back in her chair and draped her arms over the provided armrests, much to her partner's dismay, and went back to watching Jaune basically oppress that huge Cardin jerk.
Oppress? Ruby supposed here wasn't really another word for it, judging from the sight before her.
Every strike was barely deflected and almost never parried. When Jaune was parried, he moved too quick for Cardin to take advantage. But out of the dozens of interactions, only one or two ended up like that. Every other strike made it past Cardin's defence and grazed his body, flaring his Aura as the silver of Crocea Mors glanced on his armour. And when Cardin brought their weapons to a deadlock, Jaune reached over their blades with his other hand and opened fire with his handgun at point blank range, forcing the slightly larger boy to stagger back and repeat the vicious cycle. It was an endless torment for Cardin. Rinse and repeat for Jaune.
Earlier, Jaune couldn't land a hit – save for his gun – and it seemed as though Cardin was in control, even if he was getting ran circles around. But now? The blond boy was viciously ravaging his opponent like a wolf to a rabbit. If Ruby squinted, she would have guessed that half the time her teammate was purposely aiming for his weapon as he slammed his blade onto the mace like he was trying to break it.
But even as Jaune dominated the battle, Ruby couldn't help but wonder something. "Why hasn't Jaune just finished this yet?" She leant forward and put a hand to her chin, continuing, "He obviously has this under the belt; he should just put that jerk-face Cardin into the ground already."
From next to her, the ever-cold (but slowly warming) Weiss added on in typical Weiss-y fashion with her arms folded. "But he isn't."
"Or he can't," Blake was quick to counter. Her eyes were almost like slits as she stared down into the arena pit and Ruby couldn't help but let her own silver eyes linger on her teammate until a certain redhead's words reached out to her.
"Or, perhaps, he doesn't want to."
Everyone from both Team RASB and Team PYRN looked over to the culprit who had opened her mouth because none of them would have guessed she would have anything to say – ever – about, well, anything. That was sort of the type of person they saw her as, after all.
Pyrrha's hands were in her lap, looking between the six pairs of eyes on her as she frantically began to wave them off with wide and desperate gestures. "Well, no, I mean…" Freezing up like a statue for a second, Pyrrha eventually found her composure and furrowed her eyebrows – watching Jaune's bout with almost professional intensity.
"To Blake's point," the girl started, "Jaune's swordplay is… lacklustre. At least when compared to his footwork."
At her words, Blake seemed to nod in hesitant thought as she sat back and folded her arms in a defensive manner. "Yes…" she hummed. "He knows very well how to use it just, when compared to how he moves, he could – no, should – be doing much more."
Ruby guessed that Blake would know. She saw how she moved on top that massive Nevermore during Initiation, after all. And the way she used her weapon while doing all those cool flips and stuff? It was like she was dancing with her weapon.
Kind of like how Ruby envision herself dancing with Crescent Rose when she was us under the influence of her Semblance at times. A quick look to Jaune proved Pyrrha and Blake's theory – however. He was slow. While his body was flowing, his attacks were barely keeping up – if that at all. As much as she hated herself for saying, he was kind of sloppy. He was…
Her eyes thinned as she squinted, as if that would help her confirm. "…using his left hand. Wait, is Jaune using his left hand? I'm like sixty percent sure he's right handed."
Weiss' incredulous look was priceless. "What kind of odds are those?"
Though, despite the girl's transgressions, Pyrrha similarly narrowed the gaze of her emerald eyes and whispered under her breath. "Yes… I see." Pulling herself to the backrest of her seat, she dragged her hands to her laps and let out a quiet sigh. "Jaune is right-handed. I've never seen him use his left hand for eating, writing or brushing his teeth."
"Brushing his…" From the other side of Ren, who was sat next to Pyrrha, Nora could be heard mumbling to herself.
Coughing loudly with an undertone of urgency, Pyrrha let her words take attention off of the slight red tint to her face. "I think Ruby's discovery does help to explain why his form lacks, though…" With a small tilt, Pyrrha's face scrunched up as she watched Jaune continue the unrelenting assault onto Cardin. He landed another hit, though it wasn't clean; the direction of the strike and the degree of the sword weren't aligned. The glancing blow was enough to stagger Cardin however as he buckled under the force slightly before resuming a defensive position.
"…I don't think that it was all too great to begin with." Pyrrha finally completed before stutter to add, "A-at least, that's my opinion."
"I mean," Yang's chin was buried into her palm as she leant forward and onto her knees. "I get that I basically know nothing about swords n' stuff, but you saw how he was left defenceless earlier when Cardin wacked Jaune's sword away when he went for a big swing. It got him socked in the face."
"Well…" The blonde's partner looked more apprehensive to Ruby's older sister apprehensively due to her phrasing before she resigned and agreed. "Yes… Jaune seems to lack grace in his swordplay and it appears that using his left hand isn't exactly helping with that."
But Ruby wasn't satisfied with that conclusion. Exasperated, she shook her head slowly and narrowed her eyes. "Then why is he even doing it?"
"Can't you see?" Weiss said to her like it was the most obvious thing in the world. Her light-blue pupils met bewildered silver before nodding themselves towards the large screen across the arena pit. "Look. It's working."
True enough to her partner's word, Jaune's Aura bar was barely dented while Cardin's own was already well into the orange. The combined efforts of her teammate's constant bullet fire and his glancing blows seemed to be winning in a clear battle of attrition. Really, the only meaningful strike that Jaune had taken in the fight was the punch near the start, and that had only scratched his Aura supply.
Blake's hand came down from in front of her mouth and returned to its position in her folded arms. There was something shaky in her amber eyes, but Ruby didn't dwell on that too long as the reserved girl spoke, "He's figured out that he doesn't need his swordplay to be any better to win. He's using his left hand."
"What?" Suffice to say, Ruby was lost. She turned to Pyrrha silently for answers and the taller girl thankfully followed through.
"He caught Cardin off-guard and off-rhythm," she explained – her emerald eyes analysing the two combatants. "Previously, the two had interacted while Jaune was using his right hand and Cardin's mind seemingly locked into gear that he was fighting someone with that sort of style. Some strikes are easier with a left-handed grip; if you couple that with the fact that some people aren't very well acquainted with fighting left-handed opponents, I would say that Jaune is purposefully lowering the bar for his technique in favour of actually landing blows on an opponent who is ill-experienced."
"But this would only work on someone like Cardin," Blake muttered quietly. "Someone unexperienced and unable to adapt. If he tried it with any of us, I doubt it would work."
"Perhaps," agreed Pyrrha. "But who knows? Perhaps he may also find a strategy that will only ever work with us specifically."
Blake tightened her grip on her elbows – an action invisible to anyone but herself and certainly to Ruby, who fell into her seat and started to slip down the backrest. "Wow."
She wondered if Jaune was even aware that he was doing all of this. The answer had to be yes, right? He had to have planned all of this out. And that was sort of cool. It was like he was thinking five steps ahead.
"Indeed…" Pyrrha seemed to sigh as she very slightly fell into her chair and continued to watch the battle with a scrutinizing gaze.
But even so, her hands clutched the ends of the armrests slightly tighter as there was a painful wretch in her stomach. Ruby couldn't shake the bad feeling in her gut and the butterflies didn't want to settle. The leader of Team RASB had an eerie sense of dread looming over the confidence in her teammate.
/-/
Crocea Mors clanged against Cardin's body, sparking his Aura and making him buckle slightly as the blade slid off his shoulder and forcing him to bend a knee. In weak retaliation, the boy wilding swung his mace backhandedly – a strike that Jaune easily ducked under and delivered a spinning back-handed slice of his own to the opposite shoulder, dropping the larger boy to his armour-clad knees completely.
Jaune took a step forward, ready to slam the golden pommel of his weapon into Cardin's soft cheek until a familiar pang in the back of his head warned him to dodge. Deep-blue widening, the blond swayed back with a long back-step and a cold sweat flickered from his forehead during the action.
In front of him was Cardin's outstretched hand – clasping so hard that you could have seen the veins popping. "Tch," he spat.
That was close. Raising his left wrist to bring Crocea Mors back into position, Jaune calmed himself and watched Cardin bring himself back up to his own two feet using that two-handed mace of his as something of a third leg. If he had pushed forward, it would have been brought to a grapple-off and Jaune's ground game wasn't exactly good. In fact, it wasn't trained at all. If Cardin had any experience what so ever, it would have been game-over for him right then and there.
His grip on the royal-blue hilt of Crocea Mors tightened slightly and the grip on his gun loosened.
It was working. His strategy. Through constant whittling, Jaune was bringing the mass of person known as Cardin Winchester down inch by inch. But that wasn't enough. Jaune wasn't here to just beat Cardin. He was here to beat a lesson into him. Why?
Chalk it up to Vul. Jaune always did.
So, in light of his goal – Jaune kicked off and dropped his gun in the process. Cardin, quite understandably, was surprised but the feeling didn't stop him from lashing out with a straight, horizontal swing aimed for his opponent's head. It was blind. Almost childish. But it was on-point.
If Jaune continued running in such a linear fashion, the mace would crash into his neck and probably shatter his spine twice over without the power of Aura. Closer and closer it came. Every millisecond was another inch, yet Jaune continued to run forward in a straight line.
…And then, everything blacked out.
/-/
Ruby's eyes widened; their metal tint getting ever brighter as she watched the mace close in on her close friend's neck. Straight from the side. She didn't need to be a doctor or anything to know that it would cause some serious damage, even with Aura to protect him.
And as Cardin's weapon came closer towards Jaune's neck, the small girl could do nothing but close her eyes – unable to view what was inevitable to become of her friend. But even from behind her eyelids, the flash of light was blinding.
/-/
Blake's eyes narrowed; their golden tint burning as she watched the spiked metal mace jet towards her partner's neck in what seemed to be slow motion. Perhaps it was partly in due to her nature as a cat faunus, but her pupils dilated and narrowed as if to focus more clearly on every single movement. Each step at every second.
Each muscle twitch at every fraction of one.
Jaune was going to get hit – that was without a doubt.
Her pupils dilating was a horrible call, even if it was without knowledge of what was to follow. The flash of light that exploded from the arena was blinding especially to her heightened senses.
/-/
Cardin's eyes narrowed and his teeth grit themselves harder, preparing themselves for the impact to come. After all that moving around, Jaune was just now offering himself up on a silver platter? Not like he would complain, of course – that made bashing his skull in all the easier. Honesty, it pissed him off.
As much as he hated to admit it, Jaune was strong. Stronger than him? No. He wasn't. He couldn't be. Because if he was, that would mean that Cardin was weak. Cardin couldn't be weak. For the sake of those the idiots back on his team but – more importantly – the sake of his ideals.
If he wasn't strong then those he loved would die at the hands of the faunus. Of the White Fang. Winchesters were known for their hate of the faunus and Cardin was well aware. But they had taken so much from him and his family; his ancestors, that the rage would sustain and continue to build for years to come.
How could someone like Jaune side with them? Animals. Violent animals that have now shown their true colours yet again with the White Fang. He knew that the whole 'peace' thing was nothing more than a façade. The news wasn't exactly withholding much information on their rampages. Villages burnt. People massacred. Families broken.
Just like his own.
His mace crept towards his opponent's neck and even in the face of the dark metal, Jaune's dark blue eyes hid a fire of undiscernible origin. Cardin would snuff it out. If only to prove a point. He was strong. And he had the strength to stop the filthy faunus and all their evils once and for all.
The snail's pace of his weapon turned into a flash of black; Cardin's mace smashed into the side of Jaune's neck.
His eyes wouldn't stay open for much longer, though who was to say that they were open to begin with?
/-/
He wanted to get through this fight without having to use it. His Semblance. But here he was, watching Cardin's mace fly into the side of his neck almost as if the entire thing was in slow motion. Jaune's Semblance was confusing to say the least, but he knew how it worked – at least to an extent.
Fractions of seconds flew by but it was more than enough time for Jaune's golden-white Aura to flood his body. That was nothing more than regular pre-emptive Aura protection. However, the flow of Aura from his soul suddenly changed. It didn't amplify. It didn't condense. It didn't grow in volume. Instead, the Aura that had compiled had all but disappeared, leaving something else entirely in its place.
And as the mace connected onto the external layer of the thin patch of Aura that covered the point of impact, a flash of light many times more powerful than any Atlesian flashbang or stun grenade could ever hope to produce exploded from Jaune. And with it, Cardin was blown back like some wet rag – mace ripped from his palms like a baby being ridden of its shaker.
Cardin's heavy set of metal armour clattered onto the floor, still completely in-tact, but Jaune left no time for the boy to recollect his sense of sight or awareness – for that matter. The place that the mace had made contact with did actually manage to shatter the small layer of Aura that was placed there as leftover by-product of his Semblance and made full contact with his neck.
In short, it hurt like a bitch.
In long, Jaune managed to blow back and disorientate Cardin as expected using his Semblance – disarming him all the while – and giving him a massive advantage for as long as he could hold onto it for at the cost of physical pain and probably a large bruise that would be painfully obvious after this fight. He actually probably used a bit too much Aura than he should have in stunning Cardin like that.
If one were to look at the Aura monitors right now, Cardin would have still been in the orange and was in danger of teetering into the red. However, Jaune's was now only now starting to dip into the yellow despite taking the massive and direct hit to the neck from Cardin's two-handed mace. Even with his massive Aura supplies, taking something like that head-on was sure to leave Jaune barely hanging onto the yellow or maybe even dunk him into the orange.
That wasn't the case however, as Aura was instead expelled via his Semblance rather than being used to tank damage. Granted, it left him to take the damage himself, though his Semblance did prevent him from being blown off balance and it was thanks to it that he was now straddling Cardin and ruthlessly bringing his fists down onto his unguarded face.
"You think-" Jaune's right fist brought itself violently down onto Cardin's cheek and he would be lying if he said he didn't take some delight in watching his face snap in the direction of his punch. "-faunus are the spawn of the devil, huh?"
Just within the timeframe that small phrase, the blonde had already struck the blinded boy under him a multitude of times. Truth be told, he was just copying what he saw Vul do from time to time. Right, left, elbow. Elbow, elbow, hammer-fist. Striking Aura repeatedly with your bare fists hurt though, Jaune figured as pounding was felt internally within his fists. Who would have figured?
Cardin's face lacked blood, though the repeated flashes of grey signified damage was being dealt. The brown-haired boy couldn't even open his eyes through, if he tried, all he would have seen was white from Jaune's Semblance-induced explosion of light. "The root of all evil, right?!" There was a brutal almost half-smile that graced Jaune's face as he yelled. It was a manic expression that Cardin couldn't see but could surely feel as the unrestricted malice from it radiated like a fire's heat.
"You're a fucking idiot!" Were the harsh words expelled from Jaune's mouth as he linked his two hands together and slammed them square into Cardin's nose, causing his head to fire back into the concrete floor behind him and bounce back up for another beating. "A fucking kid! How dare you pin all the blame onto a single group of people! You don't know anything!"
His arms drew back only to buck forth again, causing Cardin to grunt in obvious pain. The crazed half-smile disfigured itself into a disgusted snarl that had Jaune's canines on display for all to see as the flash effect of his Semblance began to wear off.
At first, he just wanted to beat the shit out of Cardin as a message. Humans could have been as evil as any faunus, just like how faunus could have been as evil as any human. But as he started to vent, Jaune was slowly beginning to let his actual emotions loose. He was… genuinely offended by Cardin's ignorance. It was the fuel that allowed organizations like the White Fang to get leverage and power their own twisted causes and throw the world into terror and chaos.
It was what caused him to lose the first real… friend he had ever made outside of his place in the middle of nowhere. Back home he was lonely. Bullied at times, though his sisters never let it stay that way. Jaune was thankful, but at the same time resentful because it was that very fact that made people afraid to approach him. Imagine how it felt to finally make a real friend.
And imagine how it felt for it to be taken away, by the White Fang no less.
People were ignorant, and Jaune hated it. And that hate could be felt with every punch and every elbow that was sent down into Cardin's barely-guarded mug. In the end, Jaune could feel himself losing to his own hatred every single second that passed. What could have shown human evil more than that? The morbid thought was pathetic, really.
Jaune brought his clenched fist down once more to repent his hate further, though widened his eyes at the sight before him. In front of him, his own punch was caught within the palm of Cardin who looked as though he could barely even open one of his eyes from the pain of being punched repeatedly in the face.
Trying to strike with his other hand, Jaune's leather gloved fist was similarly caught by Cardin's second hand. The two boys began to struggle against each other's might to see who could over-power the other first. Seconds passed as the blond's teeth ground up against each other but, even if it was only for a moment, his attention was drawn to the state of Cardin.
There was blood pouring out of his nose in a constant stream, flowing to the side of his lips and off of his cheek. He could see the early stages of a black-eye around the one that Cardin could barely open. The pink flesh around his cheeks looked more purple than usual, like his own neck where Cardin's mace had struck prior – bruises were sure to appear a couple of hours later.
Dark-blue eyes instead focused on their opponent's injuries, Jaune could only ponder why he was so damaged if he still had Aura left, even after that massive beating. Honestly, the blond could barely believe that was a possibility… unless…
This bastard… cursed Jaune as the pieces began to click in his mental space. Cardin had purposely supressed his already dangerously low Aura to prevent it from being used up defending him. Why, you ask? To order to stop him from losing the bout. Despite how he looked, it seemed that there was something of a brain hidden in there.
Weight suddenly seemed insignificant; Jaune felt as though he was floating in mid-air before his leather-padded back crashed against the concrete not to dissimilar to how Cardin fell against the floor when he was blown back earlier. His belts and the multitude of grenades and clips shook from the impact, though none extra came off. Wait… was he…?
Jaune supposed there was a reason that he tried avoiding a grapple in the first place.
"No, you don't get it!" Before Jaune even had the ability to fully comprehend the situation, there was a solid feeling of condensed mass displacing the flesh and muscle on his face that was swiftly dampened by the flow of Aura he instinctively pushed onto his skin. "They took everything from me! From my father! My family! People who I've loved were taken, never to be seen again, and the only closure we had of their deaths was a head in the fucking mailbox and a note from those White Fang fuckers! All because us Winchesters defended ourselves against the faunus when they started to rebel all those years ago!"
Both of Jaune's arms inched towards his face to better protect the more sensitive areas from Cardin's unrelenting barrage of attacks. Like his own from earlier, Jaune could feel the emotion behind every one of his raging opponent's punches. And, despite how little he had left, Cardin's Aura basically screamed the same message so loud that Jaune didn't have to bother concentrating to hear it.
"We didn't care at first-" Punch. "-we were content minding our own business." Punch. "Then we hear that one of our own was massacred by the of faunus for no goddamn reason other than they were human!" Another punch found itself slipping through Jaune's guard and his neck snapped back under the force despite his own Aura. "Winchesters were proud, even all those hundreds of years ago; there was no way were going to take it lying down! So we retaliated – joined the opposing side of the war and fought to get our revenge! Look where it fucking got us; the White Fang are back and taking innocent lives – even my own family – yet fucking again!"
Even under the rain of punches, it seemed that the blond didn't bother trying to defend himself any more than he already was. In-fact, it was almost as if his guard was loosening and the gap between his two outward forearms was widening ever so slightly. Jaune was letting Cardin lose himself in his fury and passion, just like he had lost himself in his hatred.
There were always sides. Jaune wasn't an idiot - he got to know that much about life from his year of travelling with Vul. He had always known that Cardin must have had some sort of reason for his vile resentment of the faunus. But, on the other hand, that didn't suddenly mean Jaune forgave him. Cardin was still ignorant. An arguably justified ignorance, maybe, though ignorant nonetheless.
Just as there existed different sides, evil chose none specifically and spread itself across everything and anything it could. Nobody could have been inherently all good, Jaune believed. Not him. Definitely not Vul. An innocent and bright smile projected itself his closed eyelids along with hopeful and shining eyes of silver but Jaune wiped away the image swiftly.
No. Not even Ruby.
Maybe the same held true for good, and even the most twisted and broken individuals held a semblance of purity within themselves hidden beneath the cracks of their shattered person – though that may have been another conversation entirely.
Countless punches flew onto Jaune's subconsciously held swathe of yellow-white Aura but he couldn't feel them; he denied them the honour of being registered as he continued to think.
Part of him felt bad for Cardin and the shell he was stuck in, one that he had no say in. It's not like he could ever think anything different. Well, Jaune shared his hatred of the White Fang, that was for sure – but he wasn't so foolish as to think they were the only evil ones. Even he had tortured; breaking arms and cutting excruciatingly specific patterns into flesh to get people to talk. He had killed people who undoubtedly had others waiting for them – shooting them on the spot with his black and yellow handgun without a second thought before thrusting Crocea Mors through the chest of another.
He had done and seen countless unspeakable things that a seventeen-year-old teenager should never have been subjected to doing or seeing. Jaune wasn't normal, and maybe it was because he was abnormal that he could even feel pity for a person like Cardin who knew no better.
"So, yeah, I hate the faunus!" Cardin had shouted, though there was a strange undertone to the exclamation that sounded almost he was… crying. And as Jaune struggled to find an opening to regain his vision and raise his eyelids, he couldn't help but widen them further upon seeing the smallest of tears spill out of the larger boy's eyes. "I hate all of them for all the despair they brought and still bring to me and my family – my blood! Why don't you get that?!"
"I do."
Arm drawn back and suspended in mid-air, Cardin's face froze in shock of the words spoken from the blond under him. The single streak of liquid that stemmed from the side of one of his eyes was more apparent to Jaune now than ever. "What?"
"I get it," Jaune repeated – parting his guard and speaking more clearly through the open space between his arms. One of them remained there while the other dipped down and fell to his side in what appeared to be exhaustion. "You think that you've suffered because of the faunus. They take and take from you… so you hate them."
A more complicated expression came from Cardin – one mixed with hope and desperation. The stream of liquid on his face flew away from his face as he whipped his head back and forth in disbelief. "So you get it! Then why-?!"
"But instead, you fail to see that you – your blood – is at as much fault," Jaune said with a straight face.
"What?"
"If your family were never so full of hubris and killed countless in the name of revenge and justice, do you think that the White Fang would have ever held a grudge against you until this day?" The words spoken didn't have any visible effect on Cardin, though he appeared to try and argue and failed through the flapping of his lips and the apparent lack of words. "You responded to evil with evil, yet you blame the faunus for being the root of it."
There was a splutter that seemed to follow a sob. "But-!"
"I get it!" Jaune yelled with more resolution. Cardin could do nothing but clench his suspended fist tighter as he listed further to what his opponent had to say. "It's not your fault, Cardin."
It was this damn world's. Evil was everything. Everywhere has evil. In humans, in faunus, in Grimm – everywhere you look, evil has run its hands across it and there's nothing that can be ever done about it. That was Jaune's point, here.
"And it's because I get it that I'm doing this."
The arm that kept what remained of his guard up flashed towards the hem of Cardin's gold-engraved iron breastplate and pulled on it tightly, revealing the slightest of openings that one could stuff their hand in if they tried. At the same time, the hand that Jaune had dipped to the side of him in what anyone else would have assumed was exhaustion shot back up and did just that – though in its palm was a strange device that had its pin pulled by the experienced movement of Jaune's own thumb. His other hand let go and the breastplate snapped back onto the brown-haired boy's chest.
Cardin spluttered yet another time, but this one was more in complete shock than overwhelmingly conflicted emotion. Nobody could blame him for pushing himself off Jaune and fumbling around his armour in a vain attempt to get whatever went in, out. With the pressure from his legs alleviated, Jaune brought his knees to his chest and kicked the other boy straight in the gut – sending him into the air while his left hand clenched itself, letting Aura flow through the bracer before it shined a vibrant purple.
From a considerable way away, Crocea Mors' shield begin to rattle with a similar glow from behind it – originating from a connected vial of purple gravity dust – before it sprung towards Jaune's bracer and connected magnetically with a click, protecting its owner from the lightshow to come.
Miss Goodwitch stepped forward, dropping her tablet and bringing her riding crop forth to activate her Semblance, but it was too late. Not even the layers of iron and flesh managed to quell the building rumbling and deafening ripple of the dust-based explosives that was stuffed down Cardin's breastplate as orange and red burst from within the metal container, leaving only smoke and dust as the audience was left to stare at slack-jawed.
/-/
Team RASB and PYRN had similar expressions between them. Ruby and Nora watched with hands clasped around their mouths while other sterner individuals, like the two stoic and raven-haired members of RASB and PYRN respectively, held their gaze on the cloud of smoke with folded arms. Pyrrha sat with her ever eloquent posture, hands resting in her lap peacefully though the emerald colour of her eyes were harsher than normal.
Not all too surprisingly, Yang was the first one to break the silence between the two teams. With a quirked eyebrow, she watched dark cloud of smoke fall slowly – lilac orbs darting between the tiny pieces of metal that were expelled from the haze and bounced onto the arena floor. "I'm starting to notice a pattern here…" She started with a wavering undertone, arms crossed awkwardly. "First the Emportusk and now this? I'm starting to wonder if Jaune has a thing for explosions…"
"Yang." The steely tone of the blonde's redheaded partner caused her to turn her gaze towards the girl to see that her eyes weren't leaving the site of the explosion – waiting patiently for the curtain of smoke to fall.
Understanding, the other drew their eyes away and chose to focus on the same sight. "Yeah, sorry."
From the other side of the row, a pale hand clenched onto elegant white fabric and crinkled it slightly. "I can't believe Jaune would do something like that…" Weiss muttered under her breath. Her snow-coloured eyebrows quivered and she seemed conflicted. "He didn't need to kill Cardin. He basically already lost."
"No…" Blake replied in a similar manner of out-loud thinking.
Turning to her teammate, Weiss couldn't seem to believe her. "What?"
"Jaune wasn't fighting to win," she replied idly to the white-haired girl a few seats across from her. "He was fighting to prove."
Blake's answer didn't satisfy Weiss at all as her expression turned bewildered and her tone turned offended at the other girl's vague set of words. She didn't seem to believe her, saying, "Then prove what, exactly?"
She couldn't resist rolling her own golden eyes and answering with: His philosophy, duh. At times she forgot that others didn't possess the same heightened senses she did. Maybe fine-tuning and focussing what one heard in the midst of a shouting and riled crowd of spectators wasn't exactly a thing for everyone. Did that mean the passion-filled exclamations between the two combatants were unheard to everyone but herself, possibly Miss Goodwitch, and them?
It was possible.
Though, to Weiss, it seemed like Blake was just mocking her due to her silence and very obvious eye-roll. Turning back around with a quiet harrumph, Weiss drew back her icy pupils and pointed them back at the arena center.
The truth was, Cardin was most-likely fine. At the very start of the match, when Jaune made everyone turn away their attention with his ridiculous claim, he had unclipped a grenade from one of his belts and proceeded to empty it quite significantly before stuffing it into what looked to be his trouser pocket. Blake, of course, ignored his stupid ruse and was able to lay witness to all of that.
Jaune never intended to hurt Cardin too bad, though it was undeniable that he wanted to bring him some pain in the first place – or he would have never prepared to use a point-blank grenade, of all things.
There was a sharp gasp from two seats across; Ruby seemed to notice something while Blake was still idle in thought.
"Look…" She said quietly, bringing her small hands down from her mouth. "The smoke's clearing…"
Almost at the same time, everyone seemed to stiffen slightly and either lean forwards and straighten their backs. Sure enough, Ruby was right; the smoke was clearing and the aftermath of the bout was slowly becoming apparent.
Jaune was hiding beneath his shield and there were black trail marks on the ground from where he was sent skidding back slightly due to the explosion. Though, that beautiful shield had not a single scratch on its silver surface to speak of despite its proximity to the blast. On the other side of the arena lay Cardin, who had his metal chest-plate ruptured outwards violently and his bodysuit blown to bits, leaving his red-ish skin exposed. It looked like a first-degree burn.
Rushing forward, Miss Goodwitch crouched next to Cardin and examined his body, hovering her hand over him and running it down – eyes following – before nodding her head with a determined face and beckoning a specific area in the crowd to come forward. At once, Team CDRL jumped over the hard-light barriers and landed in the arena pit as all three members seemed to receive instructions from their teacher, of which they had a hard time listening to as their eyes darted worriedly to their team leader.
Eventually, they all nodded their heads simultaneously before coming next to Cardin and grabbing him. The one with the stupid hair-cut and the other one with brown-hair hoisted the larger boy's arms over their shoulders while the grey-hared one seemed to clear the way before they disappeared out of the arena entirely through one of the connecting staircases running straight through the middle of the spectator seats.
When they were safely out of sight, Miss Goodwitch next approached Jaune – notably with much less urgency than she did with Cardin. She crossed her arms expectantly while above his laying figure and tapped her black heels rhythmically. As if dreading what he would see, the blond moved his shield as slowly as possible before locking with the witchy eyes of his professor. He seemed almost afraid as he picked himself up and dusted off his combat trousers awkwardly.
Not even Blake could hear what words were exchanged between the two though, by the look of the face that Jaune suddenly pulled, he wasn't excited by them. Miss Goodwitch repeated something as if to make sure Jaune had understood, to which he nodded his head slowly before slowly walking towards his dropped weapons and retrieving them.
After what felt like an eternity, the entire class seemed to focus in on Jaune as he walked up the same set of stairs with his head held low. As he passed by RASB and PYRN, not even the worried whisper of Ruby seemed to attract his attention as he continued to shamble out of sight.
As the sound of the arena's double doors swinging open and shut echoed in the arena theatre, Miss Goodwitch spoke up – already back in her spot with her tablet in hand. "Please pay attention for the next bout," she informed professionally, as if nothing extraordinary had transpired in the last few minutes.
There were hushed mumbles and mutters, though every student's attention was surely brought back onto their commanding professor in due time.
But before the monitor switched its display to the familiar set of roulettes slots to pick the next combatants, Blake got a good look at the ending Aura amounts of the previous fight. Cardin's, understandably, was completely zero. He had used whatever Aura he had left to try and protect him from the grenade.
Jaune's? Only halfway into the yellow - about seventy percent despite the beating he took. All of that resulted in only him getting to seventy percent?
It was a thought Blake chose not to dwell on as the roulette ran once again.
Ending Notes:
Hey, everyone.
I don't know how people might feel about this kind of chapter. There were multiple thoughts going into this, some of which being that I wanted Cardin to have 'justified' reasons for disliking the faunus rather than him just being an asshole as well as exposing Jaune's thoughts on evil as a whole.
He's been through a lot in the past year and I haven't been privy about everything just yet.
Execution wise, I'm unsure as to how I did. People may not take to lightly to giving a purely unlikeable character like Cardin a reason, solely due to the fact that it intervenes with them hating a character without feeling guilty or coming off as insensitive. Sort of dumb, but that's just how it is. The tension between Blake and Jaune isn't something I've forgotten about either, and it's why you're getting more that's vaguely from her point of view as opposed to maybe Ruby.
I could sprinkle in off-handed stuff about how she acts from other POVs but I feel like we can better connect to what she feels if we're actually inside her head at certain points.
Either way, that concludes the Jaune vs Cardin mini-arc and I think it's safe to say that there won't be a 'Jaunedice' side-plot thing that's going to take your time.
Now. For something that I'm sure many people are confused about…. Jaune's Semblance. No, I didn't retcon it from an earlier chapter when he used it on Ruby – it's the same thing. I won't disclose anything about it or its importance, but I will say that it's not Amplification but something else entirely. Also, yes, it's 'confusing, to say the least' just like Jaune said. Feel free to theory craft from the two instances it was used.
Either way, thanks for sticking with this and…
Thank you for reading this chapter!
