I've been waiting all week to post this chapter. I've also got the next one well down the pipeline, but sadly, I'm working both days this weekend. I'll have time to work on it, but it would've been nice to have a day to unwind.

Chapter Twenty-Four: Pride

Over the course of the next three weeks, Cardin's life became a tumult of grueling training sessions, digital mountains of Beacon records and student transcripts, and constant glances over his shoulder for signs of Emerald or Mercury. A search through all of Haven's records gave him not a single clue of Team CMEN's Semblances, fighting styles, or even the identity of their fourth fighter, and a torturous read-through of Beacon's paperwork, including the patrol routes submitted by Oobleck, showed no signs of Cinder's coveted prize.

In their training sessions, Pyrrha seemed determined to make him fight until he dropped dead. She called out feints, parries, and sidesteps in rapid succession, forcing him to move to her pace or get jabbed in the ribs with her sword. Within an hour of sparring with her, sweat made his shirt heavy as chainmail and his breaths came in sputtering gasps. After four, and three flights of stairs to his room, most times he took Dove's bed, as he didn't have the energy to walk another ten feet.

He tried holding back at first, but she saw the weakness behind his blows and pummeled him with her shield. Now he only held back his Semblance, putting all his strength behind each swuing. During each of their spars, the courtyard rang with the resonant clashes of mace on shield, drowning out the sounds of other practice pairs.

Over the course of the weeks, Cardin had sought cracks in her armor, flaws in her technique, but each of her movements were polished, aggression and defense in perfect balance, each thrust allowing her to dart back, each retreat evenly executed, allowing an easy punish on an overextended opponent. She could change between weapon types on a whim, pressing close with sword and shield, darting back and probing with the lance, firing off Dust rounds with the rifle when the opponent tried to retreat.

Over time, as his technique improved, he noticed that her weapon and shield seemed to move with a will of their own. Anytime Pyrrha was under pressure, the shield slid neatly into place and didn't waver an inch under his heaviest of overhead blows, the sword wove intricate patterns faster than the eye could track them, slicing through air and Aura alike with perfect angles and straight lines. The more he sparred against her, the more he noticed the subconscious use of her Polarity.

For all his misgivings of her closed-off and irrational demeanor, her icy glares and dismissive stares, he had to admit she knew how to train him. He still came nowhere close to defeating her, but each day sharpened his reflexes, bolstered his endurance, and toughened his arms. He held his ground under the lighting onslaught of Miló and Akoúo̱ and found her blade tickling his throat less often. Occasionally, Pyrrha would remark that they might actually believe she could lose to him, but otherwise kept silent through their matches.

When he was alone at night, he practiced using his Semblance. Oobleck had suggested acquiring a spring and weights, concentrating of maximizing his output. Night by night, he found that he could make the heavier weights creep up a hair farther and the tinier weights sink closer to the floor. He also worked on rapidly changing his input, making the weight bounce up and down. At Oobleck's direction, he also tried seeing how far his Semblance could reach, and through what medium. Once an object was an inch away from his hand, he could barely make it tremble on the spring, but if he tied a piece of twine to it and held the other end, he could force it to move from across his room. He repeated the test by spreading out more weights over his bed, seeing how much the force dispersed over a given area, and had to stop when the wooden framework creaked ominously under the combined, tenfold mass.

Beacon had grown quiet once again during the weeks of extracurricular activity. RWBY's entire team was shadowing Huntsmen, as were the rest of Pyrrha's teammates. Emerald had gone with one of the Huntsmen on patrols, while Mercury and Cinder lingered on campus, sparring half-heartedly with their partners and quietly observing the other groups. Even with their minimal effort, they kept their opponents, two students from Atlas, on the defensive. Russell and Sky found partners, but Dove took up patrols with a Huntsman. Sometimes, Cardin found himself looking around, wondering where Dove had gone, before catching himself.

Many other groups, hoping for an early edge in the competition, went with the other teachers on team combat drills. They stayed out until sundown and came back sweaty and exhausted. Cardin and Sky had tried setting up cameras, but the groups moved around day after day, and the forest was too huge for them to have complete surveillance. What little footage they had gave them nothing more than they already had from their student records.

Word had gone around that the Huntsmen had some small successes in curbing White Fang activity, a confiscated stash of Dust from a riverside warehouse, a disrupted rally held in a derelict movie theater, a couple dozen agents rounded up and thrown in cells, enough for the media to praise the fine efforts of its Huntsmen and preserve Vale's credibility.

Word from the students shadowing them told a different story. Though the students were at first reluctant to relate how the patrols were going, over time, rumors spread through the school that information was scarce, and it seemed as though most of the White Fang had relocated outside of the capital, beyond the reach of the Huntsmen and out of sight of Atlas' fractured forces.

As the month came to a close, the students were yet again corralled into the auditorium. This time, extra the hard-light monitors had lists of teams, broken down into their individual students, and space for Aura readings on the impending fights. Goodwitch explained the rules, the same used for the Festival, and asked for a volunteer to start them off. Half the hands in the room rose, and Cardin didn't bother competing with them.

None of the matchups surprised him. The first couple went for easy pickings, making sure they didn't end up being the first to lose. A first-year picked a fight with Coco Adel and got knocked around the arena, starting the more serious matches. Blades clashed with knives, clubs battered at shields, Dust rounds cracked the air as students traded shots until Goodwitch called one out of the match.

A few used their Semblance, primarily fighters like Ruby that relied on it, but most kept that up their sleeve. Cardin watched them, noting how they moved and where they had to held back an instinctive use of their hidden abilities.

When Yang hit the floor, she called down Mercury. Mercury didn't seem to put in any effort at first, sidestepping all of Yang's attacks without offering any of her own, but as Yang picked up the tempo, Mercury fought back, snapping kicks and firing shots from his boots. In the end, Yang got a clean shot at his jaw, and he flew out of bounds.

Once that match was over, Weiss challenged Cinder. Cardin had half-expected her to refuse, from the smug smile on her face, but Cinder accepted. Weiss danced and lunged around her, using Glyphs to zip around the platform at blinding speeds. Each thrust of her rapier was deflected by one of Cinder's daggers, each of which broke under the impact. After several exchanges, Weiss put everything behind one glyph half the size of the room and shot like a bullet at Cinder. She ducked aside and raised a fist to punch her in the gut as she passed. Weiss' momentum sent her spinning across the floor and flying off the platform with a sliver of Aura left.

Ruby ran up next and challenged Emerald. The green-haired girl's smile seemed to curdle on her lips as she walked down and unsheathed her twin submachine pistols. The moment Goodwitch called a start to the match, Emerald opened fire with both guns, but Ruby vanished in a flash of rose petals. Air rippled in a mild shockwave as Ruby raced past the gunfire, swept her scythe under Emerald's legs, and sent her flying into the stands. Ruby stopped, winced, and shouted "Sorry!" at the flattened spectators.

Team CMEN's last member, Nelly Poltan, was nearly overlooked by Professor Goodwitch. When she skipped onto the stage, a gesture so cute that it made her diminutive stature borderline ludicrous, she pointed at Blake. As Blake came down, Cinder rose and walked down to the stage. Apologizing profusely, she asked Goodwitch to allow Nelly a little more rest, as she was still recovering from her bout of bronchitis. Nelly glared at her, but Goodwitch agreed to cancel the match.

With a nod from Cardin, each of his teammates went. He had instructed Dove and Russell to lose, but he hadn't expected Sky to catch his opponent off-guard with a well-timed shot from his halberd, knocking a raised foot back and forcing the student off balance. With a single shove, Sky's opponent fell out of the ring.

As the day wore on, Cardin sensed restlessness in the stands, from the way students shifted in their seats and watched the battles with glazed-over eyes. Even Cardin found himself stifling a yawn as battle after battle dragged on, made monotonous by the defensive play and strategies held back. He raised his hand and called Pyrrha Nikos down as his opponent.

The crowd immediately went on full alert. Nobody had dared challenge the champion, not when they had already pre-emptively seeded her at the top from her tournament results. People leaned forward, and a buzz of whispers filled the room.

Pyrrha walked down the stairs with a calm, composed frown and saluted her with her lance and shield. Cardin hefted his mace and waited for the match to begin.

With her shield raised, Pyrrha advanced, step by step, cautiously weaving back and forth with Cardin's movements. He waited until she was just within range to raise his mace, activate his Semblance, and slam its full weight down at her. The shield, backed by her Polarity, intercepted the blow and held, but the contact from his mace let him affect her shield. Now ten times heavier, the shield dropped, and his mace slammed into her head. The ground splintered and cracked where the mace landed.

She winced and reeled back, staring at her shield in shock. Taking advantage of her disorientation, Cardin made his mace lighter and went in for a flurry of blows. Pyrrha shifted her lance to a sword and met each attack with both weapons, but she couldn't keep up with his increased speed and took another blow in the ribs.

Pyrrha retreated even further, and Cardin hounded her footsteps, making sure she never got into rifle range. She kept her shield in front of her and watched his mace. He raised it again, as if going for the opening blow again, and she darted back. Keeping his mace low, he followed, and she re-engaged. His right hand swung the mace in a feint, while he grabbed her shield with his left. With his Semblance, he made the shield drop like a stone, forcing her to bend over with it. The feint became a weighted uppercut, smacking her in the jaw and forcing her to let go of the shield.

Pyrrha made a mad scramble across the stage and changed her weapon to a rifle. Dust rounds pinged off his armor and Aura as Cardin advanced with his mace held in front of his head. As he closed in, Pyrrha circled around, until she was within reach of her shield. Cardin didn't bother trying to stop her from grabbing it, and he waited until her weapon reverted to go for another attack.

He made another feint, but Pyrrha watched him grab her shield. This time, she was ready when the extra weight kicked in, using her Semblance to hold it in place with a visible tightening of her jawline. However, before Cardin swung his mace, he switched his Semblance. Pyrrha's shield, now a hundred times lighter and still acted upon by Pyrrha's Semblance, flew out of her hands, clattered against the ceiling, and fell into the stands.

He didn't give Pyrrha a chance to see where it landed, as he used Pyrrha's backward momentum and absent shield to assault her with another barrage of lightweight attacks. Without her shield, Pyrrha was able to fend off far less, and took hits on her shoulders, thigh, and head.

As they separated to catch their breath, Cardin risked a glance at the hard-light display. His Semblance had dropped ten percent from Semblance usage, but Pyrrha was down to a yellow thirty-six.

The crowd was on the edge of their seats. As the pause in the action dragged on, Jaune stood up, cupped his hands, and shouted, "You can do it Pyrrha! Kick his butt!"

Pyrrha looked back at him, but as he stepped forward, her hand tightened on her weapon. He waited, but she made no other move.

Nora also rose and roared, "Break his legs!"

Ren's voice was a low murmur, but the acoustics of the auditorium made it carry. "Nora, you really shouldn't say that."

"Oh, really? Then break only one of his legs!"

The shouts kicked up a low murmur in the crowd. Some had their Scrolls out, recording the fight, and others whispered commentary. By nightfall, there'd be thousands of hits on those videos, and by the end of the week, millions. But it was too easy so far. If Ozpin had evidence of their deal, a half-hearted match and some whispers would convince everyone it was all a sham.

"You're not holding back on me now, are you?" he asked with his arms spread out. "I thought you would've at least gotten me down to yellow."

She shifted her sword to a spear and took a balanced stance, waiting for him to make the first move. Cardin approached warily, ready to dart aside the moment her lance came at him.

As he approached, Weiss stood up. "Go Cardin! You can do it!"

He froze in his steps. His attention slid to the stands for a second, but panic turned his gaze back onto Pyrrha. She was also staring at Weiss, wide-eyed and dumbfounded.

Russell rose and added shouts of his own. "Show that know-it-all bitch who's boss! Cardin! Cardin! Cardin!"

The chant rang a few times through the hall, muted, but rhythmic, pulsing, like the rush of blood in the ears. Sky and Dove stood and took up the chant. Heads turned, feet shifted, and eyes watched the chanters.

When Weiss joined in, it opened the floodgates. Students from Mistral were the first to follow suit, followed by a chorus of voices from around the world. Even Team CMEN stood, although only Mercury actually chanted. Within moments, the only ones seated were Team JNPR, who studied the chanters with a mixture of anger, impassiveness, and more anger, Ruby, who looked as though she wanted to sink through the floor, Blake, who scowled at the proceedings, and Yang, who watched with her arms crossed.

Professor Goodwitch tried to silence the crowd, but her shouts went unheeded. Students were whooping and cheering, taking pictures, and insulting Pyrrha. The chorus of voices rolled over one another until they became one unified display of jubilance and joyous disbelief.

The uncertainty in Pyrrha's eyes was gone when she turned back towards him. Her eyes burned like cuprous flames, and she stood as tall and straight as her spear. She held out her left hand towards the spectators, sweeping it across the stands until she found her shield. It flew into her outstretched hand.

The moment her fingers closed around the shield, Pyrrha charged. Her spear thrust nearly gouged a hole through his breastplate as he turned aside, and her shield slammed into his shoulder. Cardin stumbled back, holding his mace in front of him. Another jab made him swing his mace to parry it, but the weapon changed mid-swing, darted past his mace, and struck at his chest. Blow after blow rattled on his armor and hacked at his Aura as he backpedaled, watching out of the corner of his eye for the edge of the platform. Each blow stifled the shouts in the seats, until they had all gone dead silent.

He felt his heel hit the edge of the arena. His arms tingled as he sent his Semblance through all his armor, lightening it until it felt like cloth. As Blake had taught him, he bent his legs, sprang up, and vaulted over Pyrrha, grabbing her shoulders as he sailed over her. His Semblance shifted, made his set of armor, along with her own, heavy as boulders. She gasped and sank to her knees while Cardin crushed her from behind, forcing her closer to the edge.

She twisted out from under him and scurried away. Cardin rolled onto his feet, mace raised, and barely deflected a barrage of Dust rounds aimed at his face. He charged, ignoring the rounds that bounced off him, and swung again. Pyrrha floated away, lifted by her armor, and kept firing from a safe distance above Cardin's head.

Cardin scrambled for the center of the arena as shots pinged off the rock around him. At the crater where his first blow had landed, several fist-sized rocks lay in a heap. He grabbed one, lightened it with his Semblance, and hurled it. Pyrrha darted around the first couple rocks, but the fourth hit her in the shoulder, and her shots flew erratically as she wove around his projectiles.

She landed as Cardin was grabbing another rock. He barely had time to drop it and get both hands on his mace before her shield slammed into him. She tried to wedge it under his grip, but a bit of his Semblance kept her shield down. They grappled, her shield locked under his arms, her sword hacking at his shoulder guard, until Cardin put more pressure on the shield. She dropped it, and this time, Cardin scooped it up, holding it in front of him as she did.

Polarity tugged at the shield, but Cardin kept a firm grip on it. Too late did he realize it was a bad idea, as he was dragged forward, feet trailing behind him. He scrambled to get his feet back under him, but he was too distracted to react to the spear jab underneath the shield, driving the wind out of his gut. Gasping for air, Cardin dropped the shield and made a few wild swings. One clipped her in the arm, but her shield twisted and settled into her hand in front of his other blows.

Pyrrha's weapon and shield drove him in rings around the arena. Each was a red and gold blur in Pyrrha's hand, knocking his weapon aside, probing the chinks in his armor, cleaving Aura a couple percent at a time. Cardin used as much of his Semblance as he could handle, fighting nimbly on his feet in plate armor light as cotton, but Pyrrha moved with inhuman speed, propelled forward by the force of her Semblance. The sword shrieked as it sliced the air, and her shield left blinding gusts of wind in its wake.

A few seconds of reprieve made Cardin stop in surprise. Pyrrha was studying the overhead display, showing both their Auras in the low yellow. She had only lost fifteen percent from Semblance use and Cardin's desperate blow, while Cardin was down to a quarter. The lull made him fully aware of how much his lungs ached, how tired and numb his arms had become from extended use of his Semblance, how his legs trembled and sweat ran in rivulets past his eyes. His heart hammered out a frantic beat in his chest, and his adrenaline-laced blood danced in time in his veins.

Pyrrha raised her right hand. Cardin felt his armor rise pulling at the straps, then his feet left the ground. Panic gripped him as he sailed back, towards the seats, and he sent his Semblance through himself. As he fell, he planted his mace head-first into the rock, gouging a hole to anchor it in. Pyrrha's Semblance continued to push him back, but he held on to his mace, forcing it deeper into the rock as Polarity tried to wriggle it free. A quick glance back showed him he had dodged defeat by nine inches.

Both Cardin and Pyrrha watched the displays as their Semblances fought a silent duel of force and inertia. Cardin was the first to lose a point, then Pyrrha. The display ticked down their Aura a percent at a time, until they were both another hit shy of defeat. Cardin gritted his teeth and watched her, waiting for her to make the next move.

The pressure ceased. Cardin only had a second to lighten his armor and leap to his feet before her spear struck at him. He leaned aside and wrapped a gauntleted arm around the weapon, driving his Semblance into it and holding it fast. It sank to his legs when Pyrrha let go of it. Confused, Cardin looked up and saw Pyrrha's shield swinging towards his cheek.

He had no time to dodge. He barely had time for a thought as the shield's edge rushed towards him. If it hit his Aura, he would lose. So, he had to make sure it would hit something other than his Aura. He couldn't jump, not without getting knocked over the edge of the ring, he couldn't duck, that'd leave him open to her next attack.

But there was a spot on his face where his Aura wouldn't protect him.

He turned his head so the shield caught him square in the nose. The plastic implant shattered with a loud, sickening crunch. The crowd gasped. Blood spurted from his crumpled nostrils, and a spike of pain drove itself through Cardin's head. The blow forced him back, but he made his armor heavier and stopped himself an inch shy of stepping over the edge.

Pyrrha staggered back and dropped her shield. Terror paled her face, and her hands trembled. With a roar, Cardin lunged forward, pulled back his arm, and landed a haymaker on Pyrrha's nose. Her Semblance flared up, but she grunted in pain and fell to the floor.

Cardin licked his lip and tasted hot, metallic blood. He felt it dribble down his chin and drip onto his armor. He looked up, saw that his Aura was still at seventeen. His mace was where he had left it. He yanked it out of the rock and held it up for the crowd.

His pose was greeted with silence. Cardin felt awkward, standing there, posing for a victory that nobody had believed even happened, and almost let the mace fall, but Professor Goodwitch came onto the platform.

"As Mr. Winchester's Aura remains in the yellow, while Pyrrha has dropped into the red, Cardin Winchester has won this match."

Her announcement ignited the crowd. A triumphant roar went up, and applause rippled and cracked like Dust explosions. Cardin found an involuntary smile spread across his face, and for a brief, giddy moment, he had forgotten all about the deal with Pyrrha. He had beaten the champion, fighting with the full use of her Semblance and every ounce of will bent on crushing him.

Russell sprinted down from the stands and vaulted up on the platform. Sky and Dove weren't far behind.

"Holy shit, man, that was amazing! I thought you were crazy when you challenged her, but damn!" Russell pointed at his nose. "I think you're gonna need another trip to the nurse's office."

Dove snorted. "Forget the nurse, he needs a hospital. His nose is practically gone."

Cardin gingerly felt at his face. The skin burned wherever his fingers touched. He winced when he found the edge where Pyrrha's shield had sliced into his nose. On the left side, the skin had completely torn away, leaving the tip of his nose, with most of the implant, dangling by the flap of skin on the right. He tipped his head forward, and a few bloodstained shards of plastic fell into his palm.

Pyrrha's voice wavered as she approached him. "Are – are you okay?" The corners of her eyes glistened, but no tears fell down her face. "Your nose."

Cardin held up the plastic pieces. "Fake. Hurts like hell, but it was fake."

She looked up at the display. "That's why your Aura didn't activate." Her hands clenched, and her weapons floated onto her back.

"That was a close one. Too close."

She looked away from his stare. "Congratulations." Her voice was hollow and melancholy. She walked up to Professor Goodwitch and asked to use the restroom before running out of the auditorium. Jaune ran after her, with Nora and Ren following behind him. Cardin felt the temptation to follow after, hear what she would say to them, but as the adrenaline wore off, the sharp throb from his nose turned into a raging inferno.

"Professor Goodwitch, could I go to the nurse's office? I could really use some painkillers."