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BOOK 1: Silver and Steel

Chapter 1: Big Brother

Page #5

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There are a lot of uncertainties in life that Gerald can never really make heads or tails of. He wasn't in any way a super-genius or a psychic or anything else of the sort. But right now though, he was sure of one thing.

Yang is going to beat my ass for this. For what seemed to be the hundredth time, Gerald of Patch once again tiredly thought to himself as he tried his all to maintain the poker face he had built up.

A few hours prior, when the young Branwen had glimpsed an image of his blonde younger sister Yang, he remembered that he needed to contact the aforementioned younger sister. Taking another Hunt just a few days after his last one would no doubt end up getting Yang pissed, especially considering the fact that said last Hunt got things heated between the two of them. But if he were able to contact her, he'd be able to tell her his reasons, his whereabouts, and of course, an array of promises of his return. Oh, he knew she'd still be mad at him for taking this Hunt in the first place, but at the very least he'd be able to quench her worry even just by a little bit if he were able to contact her and tell her all was well with him.

But it would seem that Lady Life had other plans. After checking and re-checking his entire person a good seven times for his Scroll and yielding no results, the young man was left with the headache-inducing realization that he had left his Scroll. And his frustration only grew all the more when he retraced his steps in his mind and found out that due to his haste, he had left his Scroll in their basement-armory when he was suiting up.

And thus for the remainder of the flight, Gerald spent it with his mind racing with numerous thoughts on numerous things. Things such as Yang, his plans to get this Hunt over with as quickly as possible, Yang again, his self proclaimed idiocy, preparing his apology speech, and of course, Yang. All the while, he did his best to keep a calm demeanor so that Butcher and his team were none the wiser to the dilemma he was facing.

"This looks close enuf." Butcher spoke up, breaking the long and sullen silence that had filled the Bull-Head for the past two hours as he pressed some buttons on the control panel. And with a downward pull of one of the many levers in the control panel, Gerald felt their aircraft decrease in speed. "At these speeds, it'll take us roughly thirty minutes ter reach da LZ." He continued, spinning his seat so that he was facing his team and Gerald. "So let's sui' up." In one practiced move, Butcher unbuckled himself from the pilot seat, stood up, and began walking seemingly towards the back portion of the Bull-Head.

Wordlessly, his team members followed his lead. They unbuckled themselves, almost simultaneously even, and stood up from their seats before following close behind Butcher.

"Oi, kid." Just as he was about to walk pass Gerald, Butcher stopped and pointed a finger at him before moving said pointing finger towards the cockpit. "Go on an' sit on da pilot seat an' keep watch fer any 'ostiles. Reckon you'll 'ave be'er use fer those eyes ov yaaahrs van starin' at dat damn ceiling." Putting his hand down, Butcher continued walking towards the back with his teammates in tow.

"But I don't know how to pilot this thing." The young Branwen tried to reason as he stood up from his seat. And with the Bull-Head no longer moving at 2000 miles per hour, he no longer had to tense his lower body muscles to keep himself planted on the floor.

"It's on Auto-Pilot, don't worry." Born Marvin, or Mother's Milk, answered as he and the others walked past him. "You don't really have to do anything but sit down and don't touch nothing."

"And don't crash us while yer at it." Butcher remarked as he got down on one knee and twisted a piece of metal on the Bull-Head's floor. "This thing costs mawer van what we paid yew wiv."

Quickly right after Butcher twisted the piece of metal on the floor, the floor near Gerald split open vertically to reveal a set of metal stairs leading downwards. Gerald was about to take a peek further down to see what lied beyond.

"Ah-ah-ah, not so fast, kid." The thickly bearded man raised a hand in a stopping gesture at Gerald, stopping the young man from stepping closer to the gaping entryway that led downward. "Down 'ere's classified ter none military personnel." He said in a tone that left no room for any argument on the matter.

Without saying anything else, he and his team descended and disappeared quickly from Gerald's sights. And with nothing else to do, the young Branwen let out a grunt of acceptance as he moved towards the Bull-Head's pilot seat. And once he was standing over it, he studied it for a good few seconds.

Hm. Looks like I'll have to unfasten my scabbard. He concluded.

And so, he unfastened his scabbard and held it with one hand before easing his bulky frame down on the seat. Hm. Comfy. Without putting the scabbard down, he turned his seat to face the front windshields of the Bull-Head. And only then did he place his scabbard down at his left side.

"Well, " With his eyes now focused on the view the Bull-Head's front windshields provided, Gerald was greeted with the sight of the seemingly endless ocean of blue that was the sky. The thick white clouds serving as it's landscapes. Their colors made even more pronounced by the rays of the mid-morning sunlight. ", this is a pretty damn good view." He finished with the makings of a grin taking form.

Gerald wasn't by any means new to views seen from a high vantage. Despite only at the age of twenty, soon to be twenty-one this coming month, he had climbed enough mountains and ridden on many an aircraft already to become accustomed to birds' eye views. But this right here was a first for the young Branwen. No mountain he had ever climbed was high enough to reach the heights they were on right now. In fact, he could scarcely even make out the earthly landscape of the continent. And no aircraft he had ever ridden on flew this high up above the clouds.

Truly it was something to behold. And Gerald tried his best to drink it all in with his eyes and commit it to memory. He figured that this would make a good story for the guilders back at the Tavern. And he wanted to capture this view with his Scroll and show it to Ruby. And Yang too, provided they talk things out first. But alas, he was once again reminded of the sobering fact that he had left it back on Patch. Roughly a few thousand miles away from where he was now.

And quickly as it had come, the grin on his face disappeared and he was once again thrust back to reality.

"It was nice while it lasted at least." And it was way too short-lived, the young Branwen felt as he sighed through his nose.

For the next few minutes, Gerald spent it in silence as he scanned the sky like a hawk. And this time, the beautiful view wasn't the focus of his long and calculating gazes. No, this time he was looking out for some things that were anything but beautiful but no less needed his attention. For a while, he saw nothing but endless blue and white that infinitely spanned across and beyond the horizon...

Hm. Looks like all's well-

...until his peripheral vision caught sight of something to the west. This immediately cut his internal musings short as he quickly turned his full attention to the western direction. Three, four, five seconds passed with him seeing nothing out of the ordinary. But he kept his gaze locked on there some more. He could've sworn he saw movement. It was far, very far, but it was there. He was sure of it. And true enough, he saw it again reappear from beneath the clouds before it took a dive and disappeared again not long after.

But those few short seconds was all it took for Gerald to get a read on WHAT exactly it was that he just saw. Doing the math as best he could in his mind, there was two, maybe even three or more thousand yards between the Bull-Head and the spot in the distance where he saw the thing disappear. And even that far off it had looked big. The kind of big that made human-sized beings nervous and afraid. And its unmistakable black coloring contrasted with the bright colors of its surroundings.

"Well, it was bound to happen anyway so, " The young Branwen shrugged with a sigh of resignation. ", fuck it."

As if life had wanted to provoke him some more, the large black thing resurfaced from the sea of clouds. This time to the east of their Bull-Head and Gerald couldn't help but notice it had gotten closer than before. It's large wings already visibly flapping in the far distance. Either the black creature was coming closer to them or they were to it mattered little to the young Branwen. He already knew they were bound to meet all the same. After all...

A Nevermore never backs down from hunting its prey once it's begun circling, remember that kiddo. The familiar voice of an old crow rang in his head.

Oh, I remember alright. With that mental remark to himself, Gerald grabbed his mecha-scabbard and got up from his seat.

"Butcher!" He barked out the name as he walked towards the sealed doorway. And when he was crossing past the opened pathway on the floor, he barked out again without stopping in his stride. "Hey, Butcher!"

He was well aware of the tension he had caused with these people due to his outburst earlier and had already sworn both to his faith and his parent's name that he'd apologize wholly for it at a later time. But right now, with the threat of a Grimm attack literally on the horizon, he needed to focus on that and put everything else aside for now.

"What!?" He heard the voice of the man he had just called shout back from somewhere inside the lower section of their Bull-Head, clearly irritated. "Did yew really screw up somethin' as easy as sittin' on a gods damned chair?"

"You and your team better get up here now before that Nevermore swoops at us and dice this ship to mince metal." Undeterred and calm, Gerald answered back as he held up his scabbard and pulled a metal switch built-in on its side. "And I'm not so sure about you, but I'm not interested in finding out if I'll survive a fall from this high up in the atmosphere." As one side of his mecha-scabbard opened up to release one of his two long swords from their confinement, he heard collective curses from the people down below followed by the sounds of hurried footsteps.

And soon enough, Butcher and his team came running back up. All of them were now wearing the camo-colored uniform of the Vale Military and had the same bulletproof vest as Annie January and the other women had before. But that wasn't all though. Now they were also wearing armoring that covered their forearms, elbows, biceps, shoulders, thighs, knees and shins that looked to be made out of some kind of plastic material that blended well with their uniforms.

"Yew sure yer not just seein' things, kid?" Without sparing him so much as a glance, Butcher "addressed" him as he sauntered towards the pilot seat before quickly plopping down on it.

All the while, the members of his team sat back down to their respective seats and quickly buckled themselves down. And this time, the man Hughie no longer experienced any further difficulties with his seat belts. The looks on their faces were guarded in a way that made them look like they were calm, and he would've believed those masks they were putting on if he hadn't noticed the slight dilation of their pupils and the thin sheen of sweat on their foreheads.

"No." Coolly and simply the young Branwen answered as he grabbed hold onto the freed longsword's grip before pulling it out with a lightning-fast flourish. The blade, made out of a strong Mistralian Silver, glowed so bright it seemed to be made out of pure light energy. "And if you don't believe me, then..." He looked up in thought for a moment. "...wait a few more seconds. Thirty or forty give or take and you'll have your answer."

If Butcher was irritated by that simple reply his face didn't show it. But he did click his tongue with a shake of his head as he strapped himself to his seat before making quick work on the control panel.

As the thickly bearded leader busied himself in the cockpit, Gerald, with his sword still in hand, flipped the mechanical switch of his scabbard and it's opened section closed once more. Once it had retained its original form, the young Branwen placed it on a seat and, in an act that had the VSF elites quirking their eyebrows, buckled it down with the seat belts.

"Things are bound to get shaky soon," The young man answered their unspoken questions as he stepped away from the now buckled down scabbard of his before stepping briskly back to face the sealed doorway. ", and I'd rather not have it flying off the ship." He finished, brandishing his silver sword as he locked his dagger and Beluga handgun in their holsters.

"Hey, uh...Gerald," Hughie Campbell called to him, a minuscule droplet of sweat running down the side of his temple.", did you..did you really see a Grimm headed towards us? What if you-Oh I don't know-were just really seeing things?" He let out a chuckle. A nervous and faltering chuckle.

If Gerald were any less of a man, he would've accused Hughie of being craven. But luckily, he was not. And he knew well enough the fear the Grimm brought to the hearts of man. It's not like he didn't almost shit himself when he first fought against the monsters of darkness.

"Sorry, but no." The young Branwen could only offer him an apologetic smile as he answered. "Just..." He shrugged. "...just do your best to hold on tight to your seats." He paused, a thoughtful look etched in his face all but for a moment. "And pray, if you like." He added shortly after.

As soon as he answered that, the man Hughie gripped his seat belts like they were the last things he was going to hold in this world. His wife, Annie January, placed a firm hand on his shoulder both as an act of comforting him and making sure that he wouldn't jerk around in his seat when things start to get wild. She also whispered something Hughie, and he whispered back in kind with a smile on his face. It was slightly faltering due to the surmounting fear he was feeling but Gerald felt that the effort he was putting behind it was genuine enough.

I wish I could say something to help them, but there isn't time. If his internal clock and the rough guesstimate he had given Butcher earlier were anywhere near accurate, then it was only a matter of a few seconds now before it would show itself. Besides, Lowering his center of gravity in preparation for the inevitable action coming up, Gerald mused. , actions speak louder than words.

"FUCK!" With a curse loud enough to match the ear-piercing screech that resonated all throughout the sky, Butcher yanked the control stick to the left, causing the Bull-Head to swerve to that same direction and narrowingly dodge the gigantic avian Grimm that had swiftly leaped up from clouds beneath.

It let out another screech as it maneuvered its gigantic body to face towards the quickly fleeing Bull-Head and, with a powerful stroke of its large black wings, it shot towards the Bull-Head and cleared the distance between them in a second.

"Damn, that is one fast bird!" Butcher increased the Bull-Head's flight speed and the distance between them and the gigantic avian Grimm grew once more. At the same time, he pressed a button and a holo-screen popped up to his left. It was big enough for everyone, even Gerald, to see. And in this holo-screen, showed a live feed of the Nevermore pursuing close behind them. "And dam is it ugly." He added with a grimace.

"Butchair, ahcteevahte weapahns systems ahnd fry zat sing eento a blahck poulet!" Frenchie barked out, gripping his seat with one hand and his seat belts with the other as he stared at the holo-screen showing the Nevermore.

"Yeah-yeah, no need ter tell me twice, Frenchie. Just si' yaaahr ass tight an' shush." Their thickly bearded leader answered, irritated, as he moved to do begin the arming sequence of their aircraft.

"No, wait!" Gerald barked out, stopping Butcher from pressing any more buttons. "No guns!"

"No guns!?" Mother's Milk parroted, voice thick with extreme levels of exasperation. "Kid, are you fucking trippin' right now!?"

The Nevermore outside let out another loud screech that wasn't so dissimilar to that of a thousand wailing souls and flapped its wings twice, thrice, four times, until the very tip of its beak was hovering atop the tail of the Bull-Head. And with another screech, it reared its gigantic sharp beak up as high as its neck would allow it.

Thanks to the built-in camera in the tail of the Bull-Head, Butcher was able to see and quickly realize what their giant avian friend was going to do.

"Oh no, yew fuckin' don't!" Cursing, Butcher cranked up the Bull-Head's speed, even more, the Nevermore's gigantic beak hitting nothing but air as a result. It let out another screech of frustration at the quickly distancing aircraft before flapping its wings to try and catch up.

"Butcher, fly upwards in a straight line!" Gerald ordered, his voice barely loud enough to pierce through the sounds of their turbine engines roaring in tandem with the Nevermore's screeching. "And rotate this aircraft by 90 degrees to the left and open this door while you're at it!"

"Why!?" Even as he roared back that question, he prepared the ship's control for their ascent. "What's yew gonna do!?"

Activating his Aura, Gerald stabbed his longsword into the metal floor before quickly opening one of the pouches of his utility belt. Just as quickly, he pulled out one of the small glass vials, popped its tiny cork off, and emptied its clear substance down his throat. Once done, he crushed the glass vial and threw dust shards to the side before pulling his sword free.

"What am I gonna do?" He parroted back Butcher's question as he got down into a crouch in front of the sealed doorway, his hand gripping hard into the metal floor as his other hand held his longsword in a reverse grip. "My damn job, that's what!"

At that moment, neither Butcher or any of the members of his team could understand the logic behind Gerald's plan. Their own sense of logic had them believing the young Branwen planned to jump out of their aircraft to "do his job" but, at the same time, they saw no rhyme or reason to it. And frankly, they all unanimously thought that it was plain suicidal. They were over 30,000 feet in the air and with the Nevermore chasing them they were going at speeds nearly as fast when they took off from Patch. For all intents and purposes, they all believed that his plan had absolutely no merit to it, especially considering their Aircraft had built-in weapons that were more than sufficient enough for Grimm related situations such as this one. It didn't make any sense to them whatsoever.

But as reluctant as they all were, they had done their background research on Gerald. All his past "altercations" with the forces of darkness were made into legend by many people all around the four continents. So much so that at one point they became a step up beyond skeptical about the authenticity of most of his deeds and labors. And yet, so many had proclaimed each and every one those cock and bull stories as the truth. So regardless of their incredulity, they all kept their protests and comments to themselves in favor of seeing out Gerald execute his plan.

"Fuck it, fine!" With that said, or more like exclaimed, Butcher flew the Bull-Head straight upwards. The Nevermore was momentarily startled by the sudden change of direction of its prey but, with a screech, it quickly maneuvered its giant body to face towards the new course the Bull-Head was taking. Another screech and it rapidly flapped its gigantic wings, bringing it closer to its prey once more. "But if yew die an' yaaahr sister comes after me, I'm usin' whatever's left ov yaaahr corpse as a fuckin' shield!" And with a press of a button, the Bull-Head's sealed doors opened and causing all the pressurized air inside the aircraft to be sucked out in an instant.

Come back to me, always... For a moment, a single solitary instance in time, a visage with eyes of lilac and hair golden like the sun rippled all throughout Gerald's mind.

And as soon as this moment passed, he fully activated his Aura. The dark-red colored energy that was of his soul igniting from his body like a tremendous fire. Butcher and his team only had less than a moment to feel the unearthly weight the full force of Gerald's Aura brought before the young Branwen leaped out through the doorway and into the open sky.

Always...

Before gravity could even begin pulling him down, Gerald zeroed in on the Nevermore's bone plated forehead with eyes long accustomed to heightened precision, spun once and hurled his longsword like a spear towards the Grimm giving them chase. It impacted, directly at the center of the bone plating, and pierced through it so deep only the silver-coated hilt and silver rose pommel of his sword remained visible. The Nevermore screeched out in pain but did not stop its chase. And as it neared the now falling Gerald, it opened it's monstrous beak with the full intent of swallowing the young Branwen whole.

1 second...

Without so much as a twitch and a change of facial expression, Gerald waited and let the gaping beak come ever closer towards him. And once the Nevermore guessed its meal was now close enough for the range of its beak, moved to close it shut, fully believing it would ensnare and kill its falling target. Halfway already inside the beak as it was about to close on him, Gerald spun to the left and changed his trajectory, ultimately allowing him to dodge the Nevermore's now clamped beak by mere millimeters. And before the beak itself could pass by him, the young Branwen grabbed onto it and used it as a brace to swing himself towards the center of its bone plated forehead where his sword lied buried deep into it.

2 seconds...

As he neared the hilt of his buried sword, Gerald SPUN so fast he became a blur of red and black. And even when his hand finally clamped around his sword's hilt, he did not halt from his whirlwind-like spinning. And thus, like a buzz saw blade spinning at full power, the young Branwen tore away at the Nevermore, leaving a gaping wound that spanned from its bony head all the way towards its rump.

3 seconds...

And as the massive black monster reared and cocked its head back in pain, Gerald stopped his spinning and stabbed his blade deep into the Grimm's flesh to anchor himself and keep himself from falling off as his leather armored feet helped him skid to a halt. And without so much as a pause, he dug the fingers of his free hand into the Nevermore's flesh and pulled out his sword before breaking into a dash up it's gravely wounded back and towards the exposed back of its massive neck with his ever shining silver sword at the ready.

4 seconds...

And once there was only a mere foot of distance left between him and the Nevermore's neck, the young Branwen leaped forward and SPUN. The white light of his silver sword combined with the malicious color his Aura spinning into a single raging whirlwind of white and dark red. And in a blink of an eye that whirlwind disappeared into the Nevermore's neck, leaving a shower of ink-black blood and flesh just as black in its wake.

5 seconds...

Inside the Nevermore's throat, Gerald continued his buzz saw attack, his blade slicing the entire circumference of its neck. And as soon as the silver blade had sliced through every fiber of flesh and bone, the monstrous avian Grimm's head loosened from its severed neck and fell off to reveal Gerald already moving into a crouching position. His dark hair, made even darker by the Grimm's dark blood, was now glowing in a way that made it somehow look even darker as his blood-red irises glowed into a crimson shade. And what's more, his face now had numerous veins that were pulsing wildly with power.

6 seconds...

"Rah!" With a bellow that seemed to echo all throughout the sky, Gerald used the now dead Nevermore as his "stable ground" to leap up from.

And leap up he did. And quite powerfully too. So much so that as he leaped, he broke through the sound barrier and cleared the distance between him and their Bull-Head in an instant. He slammed hard onto the tail of the aircraft, rocking it and its inhabitants a bit, and gripped into the metal to keep himself from falling off. With his other hand gripping tightly to his sword, he looked back down to see the Nevermore's corpse and head quickly falling lifelessly towards the earth.

"Damn," Cursing, the young Branwen let out a sigh of relief as he gently pressed his forehead on the Bull-Head's metal surface. His hair, eyes, and face quickly returning to normal as the effects of his Semblance began quickly wearing off. ", I can't believe that actually worked." He finished with a chuckle.

He was far from safety, he knew that well. He was, after all, still currently hanging off from an aircraft flying up at heights so high up that the continent looked like it was a sea of dirt and he wasn't in anyway thrilled to follow his dead friend in sky diving. But aside from that and the irritable sensation of being covered with Grimm blood from head to toe, Gerald couldn't help but a grin a little. The feeling of the atmospheric winds licking at him, the warm sensation of the sun's morning light, and the view of the endless blue and white of the sky was truly something awe-inducing for the young man.

"I just hope that they land soon," Tearing his eyes away from the wonderful view the heavens provided, he tried to find wherever the camera that helped them see the Nevermore chasing them was located. ", I can't keep playing monkey-grabby out here forever." And when he couldn't find it, he resorted with a resigned sigh to waving his hand around, the one holding the sword, as he shouted for them to land.

Inside the Bull-Head, the holo-screen showed the young Branwen holding on to the tail end of their aircraft as he waved around and shouted for them to land. The mute button had been pressed, but they had already heard the first few times Gerald had called out to them. And as such, Butcher began to fly the Bull-Head down towards the safety of the ground. And as they descended, the members of Butcher's team were all stunned silent from the turn of events. Not because of the whole ordeal with the Grimm attack, oh no, they were well acquainted with the company of Grimm in their line of work. No, they were rendered speechless from the feat their hired muscle had just performed.

Six seconds, Butcher had counted in his head. Six total seconds was all it took for the young man to jump out of their aircraft, kill the fully-grown Nevermore, and jump right back. Even the most experienced Huntsmen and Huntresses they knew took all four members of their teams to take down an adult Nevermore and that was on the safety of the ground. But what Gerald had pulled, it was something they had never thought a single person could ever do. Let alone someone who was their junior. But they couldn't deny the truth that had been laid bare and witnessed by their own eyes.

"Hehe," Butcher chuckled as he laid back into the pilot seat with a smile so vicious it looked almost feral as his eyes shone with satisfaction. ", a monster all monsters fear, eh?"

Onward.