Suprise! Early upload!
This chapter will be my first attempt at writing a fight scene, so I would appreciate heavy criticism.
I'm also going to sweep the whole RWBY Fairy Tales episode under the rug and keep going. I can't be asked to go back and change what I've already written, so here's the story.
tl;dr Step-mom married Salems dad for power and conspired to have him killed. She had Salem locked away to isolate and manipulate Salems brother. Now years later, her brother has grown a brain and decided to secretly bring his sister back into the fold.
Either way, the current events of the story don't really change, so whatever.
Anyway, onto the chapter.
Jaune roughly gripped Crocea Mors with both hands, as he stared at Ozma.
This was bad.
If Jaune still had his aura, this fight would have been a bit more even, but as it stood, he was at a major disadvantage.
Salem was still suffering from a hangover and for that reason couldn't be trusted as reliable. He also had Tyr to worry about; he was a civilian and likely couldn't fight.
Damnit.
Jaune positioned himself in front of Tyr. It was time to call upon the ancient art of bullshit. "State your business, fellow knight," he said, keeping his voice even.
Ozma used the tip of his cane to point at the flustered Salem. "I am here to liberate Lady Salem from your vile hands."
Jaune's eyes narrowed, "Just what have I done to be considered vile?"
Ozma's brow twitched. "You dare play coy? Lady Salem is standing behind you, reeking of alcohol, and you suggest you've done nothing?"
Gods damnit. Of course, it would be a misunderstanding that made him fight Ozma.
Jaune tried for diplomacy one last time. "You can still lower your weapon," he said, visibly loosening his grip on Crocea Mors to show he was genuine. "Nothing has happened here yet. Stand down and let's talk."
Ozma didn't waver. "I must fulfill my duty. Lady Salem must be returned to the King, an unknown barbarian won't stop me."
He was afraid of that. Damn, this was the worst possible scenario.
Jaune rocketed forward in an attempt to put Ozma on the back foot.
Thankfully, it worked. Ozma was surprised by his speed; Jaune took advantage of that one-second opening for everything he could.
Jaune sent Ozma's weapon flying. He quickly rotated and aimed the flat of his blade to strike Ozma's neck.
The attack never connected.
Ozma repelled Crocea Mors with a gust of wind magic and propelled himself in the direction of what Jaune now realized was a magic staff.
Jaune winced. If that staff could amplify Ozma's magic, then he might lose the battle the second Ozma retrieved it.
Jaune decided to do something reckless. He threw Crocea Mors like a spear towards an open space in Ozma's armor.
Ozma was quick to react, and summoned a wall of stone to block the sword from hitting him.
That was perfect.
Ozma willingly let Jaune out of his line of sight.
That was a rookie mistake. One he intended to punish severely.
Jaune drew his sheathe, but didn't shift it into a shield.
Ozma appeared from behind his wall, staff in hand, only to be met by dirt in his eye.
Jaune closed the distance and rammed his sheath into the side of Ozma's head.
Ozma, stunned, let out a burst of wind magic in all directions to protect himself.
Jaune used the free moment to retrieve Crocea Mors and return his sheath to his back.
Ozma managed to clear his eyes and aimed his staff at his opponent... who was nowhere to be seen. Ozma looked around in confusion.
In the moment that Ozma turned his back, Jaune leapt from the cover of Ozma's still-intact wall and tackled the confused man from behind.
Jaune was able to wrestle Ozma's staff from him once again. This time, Jaune threw the spear like a javelin to the outskirts of the city.
Ozma, who upon rising to his feet saw his precious staff being literally tossed away, was more than a little peeved.
A feeling of dread washed over Jaune, and he quickly activated his newly-acquired Mana Sight.
Ozma was concentrating a large amount of mana into his hands and feet. He adopted a more loose stance.
Jaune immediately sheathed Crocea Mors and backpedaled. It seemed Ozma had realized he would not be able to use his staff to quickly end the battle, so instead was going to try and blitz him with some sort of mana-amplified hand-to-hand style.
Jaune studied the flow of his opponent's mana closely, looking for any tricks he could acquire to turn the tide of this battle entirely in his favor.
Ozma rocketed forward at inhuman speeds, with a punch aimed directly at his face.
Jaune barely managed to dodge the punch, but he still felt a stinging sensation on his cheek. Jaune ran his thumb over the spot in question and saw blood.
The wound was large; it spanned from the front of his cheekbone and stopped just before his ear.
Jaune cursed, whatever technique Ozma was using, it allowed him to harm his opponent without making physical contact.
Talk about unfair.
Jaune used his healing magic to seal the wound shut. That didn't go unnoticed by Ozma.
For the first time since the battle began, Ozma spoke. "A knight that specializes in healing? You are certainly one of a kind warrior."
Jaune had no idea how he made that connection from one hit, but he didn't care. He used banter to stall and regain some stamina. "Oh, are we talking now?" He went with a cocky tone to try and get under Ozma's skin. "If we are, then I gotta say that's one hell of a technique you just used."
Ozma chuckled. "Thank you, I invented it."
Operation get under Ozma's skin had backfired miserably. Jaune might have invented Mana Sight, but that technique was so much cooler. "What do you call it?" If nothing else, Jaune was legitimately curious.
The question caught Ozma off-guard. "I believe I'll call it Phantom Fist," he smiled in satisfaction. "It has a nice ring to it."
Jaune almost gagged. That was such a corny name.
Ozma had indulged him long enough. Lowering himself into the same stance as before, he continued, "Let us continue."
Jaune activated his Mana Sight again, this time focusing on Ozma's hands.
As Ozma aimed a punch for his throat, Jaune felt as though time had slowed down as he watched Ozma's hand.
Much like the previous attack, Jaune had dodged at the last second. This time, however, he saw it.
Right before his attack was supposed to hit, he sent a pulse of mana down his arm to burst the bubble of mana he had focused in his hand, causing an explosion of energy that would hit anything within a few inches of Ozma's fist.
It was genius.
Jaune was jealous.
His throat had taken significantly more damage than his cheek had. Jaune was forced to deactivate his Mana Sight to focus on healing.
"That's a very nasty trick you have there," Jaune opened and closed his palm. "Let's see if I can do it better."
Ozma's eyes widened at the proclamation. It had been two years since he had created the newly dubbed Phantom Fist. In that time, he had been in countless battles against countless opponents. None of his foes had ever managed to see through his technique, let alone in two attacks.
Jaune concentrated and let mana flow into his right arm. He imagined he probably only had one shot at getting this right. Ozma was humoring him by giving him a second to breathe; if he failed, the fight would likely continue and he'd be down a lot of mana. Now or never.
Jaune charged at Ozma, the man standing there with a cocky grin. Jaune aimed his punch right below the center of Ozma's chest, where his solar plexus should be, under his armor. Jaune released the pulse of Aura a second before his fist made contact.
It was incredibly effective.
Ozma's chestplate made a sickening sound and shattered from the energy transfer. Ozma was sent flying. He landed nearly five yards away from his starting position.
Ozma was shocked; that much was an understatement. He coughed up some blood and stared back at his opponent in disbelief. This man had stolen his technique, used it against him, and hit him with a more potent Phantom Fist than Ozma had ever managed. Just who was this man?
He took in his blond opponent's features, trying to identify who exactly this man was. There was simply no way a man so skilled with a sword and mana manipulation could have gone undetected by his majesty.
Ozma coughed once more before shakily standing. He was quickly losing control of the battle. "What is your name, warrior?" Ozma made a habit of remembering strong opponents.
Jaune looked at Ozma curiously, revealing his name wouldn't cause too much damage. "Jaune. Jaune Arc."
Ozma stumbled before properly regaining his balance. "Jaune of Arc," he said, "you are the most intriguing warrior I've ever faced." He cleared his throat. "My name is Ozma of the Emerald Knights. I present to you an offer; he who lands the next hit wins this duel."
Ozma was extending an olive branch, which was odd but not unheard of. "I agree to these terms," he said. Truthfully, it was the best outcome he could have hoped for.
Ozma smiled. Wherever it was that Jaune of Arc had appeared from, Ozma was glad he was reasonable. He did not want to kill the odd blonde knight.
The two men locked eyes for a moment before dashing towards each other. Both had opted to strike with their left hands, giving their right arms time to recover.
Both men aimed to hit the other's fist. As their clenched fists collided, their energy met at the same time. A visible shockwave emanated from the collision, sending both men tumbling away from each other.
Both men lay flat on their backs only seven yards apart from each other.
"A tie doesn't sound so bad, does it Ozma?" Jaune's voice was a bit hoarse; he was running low on mana and it was starting to affect him.
"A tie would sound grand," the two men laughed at each other.
A rivalry had been formed.
Before the fight had begun...
Salem gazed upon the unknown knight with some surprise. Only two days had passed since she and Jaune had left the dull tower; she hadn't expected a confrontation so early into her travels.
Jaune's voice interrupted her thoughts. "State your business, fellow Knight."
Salem was pleasantly surprised that Jaune had opened with a diplomatic approach. In the time she'd known him, she'd learned that he was occasionally prone to thinking with his muscles instead of his head.
"I am here to liberate Lady Salem from you vile hands!" What? Jaune's hands were perfectly normal.
Salem shook her head, the effects of her drinking contest with Tyr still not faded.
She zoned back into the conversation. "You dare play coy? Lady Salem stands behind you, reeking of alcohol, and you suggest you've done nothing?"
Hey! She smelled completely normal!
Another moment passed before she realized what the brown-haired knight was implying
Her face burned red at the insinuation. Sure, Jaune was handsome, but she would never... She probably wouldn't... Well... If given the opportunity...
Salem aggressively shook her head. The brown-haired knight had gotten inside her head! Mind games!
Her mind sharpened as she watched Jaune make the first move. The interaction between Jaune and the mysterious knight lasted only a handful of seconds, but it spoke volumes about each combatant's skills.
Jaune was, for all intents and purposes, a melee-oriented fighter with a sharp mind.
His opponent, however, was most comfortable in mid-to-long range combat. Like Jaune, the man had a sharp mind, but lacked the physical skills Jaune possessed.
Salem watched the fight with extreme interest. She felt she could draw some wisdom from each time the two men collided.
As the fight stretched on and the mysterious knight was put on the defensive, she observed her pupil with even more fascination.
The expertly used a technique he had created in the last twenty-four hours to analyze and counter an ace up his opponent's sleeve. To add on to that, he even managed to copy the technique.
Salem knew painfully little about Jaune's past, but at the very least, she knew one thing; her pupil had an incredibly bright future ahead of him.
As the fight came to an end, she stared at the two men laughing together. Her father once told her that men could bond with each other without so much as uttering a word to one another. She never believed it until now.
Salem felt a small smile appear on her face. She really had been blessed with the best friend the world had to offer.
Jaune winced as he saw Salem approach him; he realized he had gotten a little carried away in that fight. But not even he could handle a heavily injured arm and Salem scolding him at the same time.
She crouched next to him. "You fought well, Jaune."
Okay, he definitely wasn't expecting that.
"No choice words about my arm?" Laughter distracted him from the pain.
Salem's smile grew. "Not this time," she offered her hand. "Only this once."
Jaune laughed and accepted her help in standing up.
He wobbled over to his fallen opponent's side. "You still alive, Ozma?"
His only response was an agitated groan.
Jaune laughed and helped the man to his feet. "You're still in the land of the living, my friend," he said. "Act like it."
Ozma groaned once more, "You're a healer, heal me."
jaune stroked his chin for a moment acting as though he was deep in thought
"I suppose I could," he paused and wrapped his arm around Ozma. "If you buy us lunch."
Ozma silently wept for his rapidly decreasing wallet.
As promised, Jaune healed Ozma's arm as well as his own. He had gotten much quicker with his healing magic in the past few days.
Ozma held his right hand against his left shoulder, articulating the newly repaired arm. "Your healing magic is remarkable, Jaune."
Salem chose that moment to finally step into the conversation. "My pupil is incredibly gifted," she beamed with pride. "He is only in his second week of magic training."
Jaune would've killed to have a scroll at that moment to take a picture of Ozma's face.
"That's preposterous. A man cannot reach such heights in only two weeks," Jaune felt that Ozma was more butthurt that he had lost to a magic novice than anything else.
Regardless, Jaune laughed at his words. "I have a great teacher," he said, nudging Salem.
She blushed at the sudden praise, although she made no attempt to sound humble. Shocker.
Ozma clapped his hands together. "That reminds me," he said, reaching for a sealed cylinder on his waist. "I was instructed to find and give this to you."
Salem accepted the object and inspected it for a moment before opening it.
Inside was a letter addressed to her from her dear elder brother. She could feel tears threatening to fall from her eyes.
Years had passed since she'd last seen her brother; her final memory of him was watching him cry as she was dragged away from the royal castle.
The letter was very simple; her brother had written about how he had ascended to the throne, and how, after years of leading his kingdom, he had realized that their stepmother had always tried to influence his decisions.
He begged for her support to eliminate their stepmother and free their kingdom from her machinations.
Salem was on board the second he read the words "eliminate our stepmother".
Salem returned the letter to its container. "Thank you... Ozma was it? I shall accept my brother's request."
Ozma had the most relieved smile the pair had ever seen. "I will personally see to it that you make it to the capital safely."
Salem hesitated for a moment before turning to Jaune. "I know we never officially agreed to travel together, but...
Jaune cut her off before she could finish such a ridiculous thought. "Of course I'll go." Jaune playfully wrapped an arm around Salem. "For better or for worse, we're a package deal now. You won't be getting rid of me anytime soon."
A pleased smile crossed Salem's face.
That sounded wonderful.
Chapter done!
I wrote this chapter immediately after I uploaded the previous one. I had planned to do a double upload, but I fell asleep while editing.
The fight scene itself took up most of the chapter; it was just under 2K words.
You might have noticed, but I specifically avoided having Jaune expand his shield this chapter.
The time is not yet right for that revelation.
Anyways, I hope you enjoyed!
I'm gonna go sleep for the next 70 years