5-2: Aggravation

"What did he just do?!"

Qrow furrowed his brow. As shrill as his companion's voice was, her words certainly echoed his own thoughts, as the huntsman's red eyes narrowed at the sight of the flaming Deathstalker.

Now there's a thought that he would've never considered before today.

Despite whatever airs he may put on, Qrow was still an experienced huntsman, and his repertoire of skills included the discipline and intuition that came with such a dangerous occupation. Not only that, but Qrow Branwen worked under Ozpin directly, which meant that he had seen his fair share of dangers in the world, and that there were few things capable of alarming the black-haired scythe-wielder.

A flaming Deathstalker was certainly one of those things.

The white bone plates that normally protected the beast were bright orange, though even they were barely visible beneath the roaring blaze that seemed to consume the beast entirely. Everything from its claws to the golden stinger at the end of its tail was wreathed in flame, matching the monster's silhouette perfectly, as though it were a second shell. Both huntsman and huntress stood silent for just a moment. Did... Did the mummy just infuse a beast of grimm with dust?

It was an uncommon sight, but not one that was completely foreign to the two. What was different was the fact that the creature was imbued with a single gesture, rather than a lengthy process of science and malice. And rather than devolve into berserking mass of feral death, it was coherent enough to pick its opponent in the form of an ice-infused Ursa Major.

Yet, despite everything that had just transpired, the most important fact right now was that the armoured mummy's new pet far outclassed Winter's own Polar Bear.

"... What's it look like, Ice Queen?" Despite the levity of his words, Qrow's voice was strained, his eyes darting around the room as he gauged their options. He didn't miss the fact that they were still surrounded by countless grimm and the mummy's machines. To say nothing about the mummy itself. Their situation, as Ozpin might put it, was not ideal.
"I don't think your little pet will last long against that thing."

Still, the point of the White Ursa was simply to buy time, and both combatants understood this.

Without another word, the huntsman threw a glance towards the Atlesian Operative, lingering for a second before shifting to the doorway behind them. As with everything else in the room, the ornate doors they had entered from were wide open, spewing forth countless grimm and machines. However, unlike the other openings, the entrance seemed far more manageable, with only dozens of opponents instead of the throng that streamed from the other openings.

Their silent exchange, brief as it was, was more than enough for the two huntsmen to formulate a plan.

Winter was the first to speed off, powered by her glyphs as she danced between the black beasts of destruction. A few tried to oppose her, to get in the way somehow, but her graceful footwork and deft swordplay made quick work of the lesser beowolves and creeps. Snarls filled the room, mixed with the sharp sound of metal slashing through the air, as grimmsmoke emptied into the corridor.

Qrow was equally unopposed, his path far more direct as he barreled through the tide of darkness. His swings were blindingly fast, his blade gleaming with a bright shine as he matched his companion's actions. The smaller grimm fell instantly, and even the older Creeps and Beowolves offered little resistance.

Still, they had far more problems than the lesser grimm. Boarbatusks haphazardly charged the two, their paths choreographed from a mile away as the two experienced huntsmen took the creatures' charge into stride. Winter lunged above them, springing up from her glyph, only for the intricate design to detonate violently as a Boarbatusk approached it. The scythe-wielder chose to keep to the sides, bringing his blade back behind him, fanning out the cruel edge as he met the grimms' charge with his own.

And just like that, the heavier grimm were bypassed. Honestly, the only thing that really stood out were the Ursai that remained near the back, and they were simple to deal with. Neither the huntsman nor the Atlesian Operative saw any value in actually fighting those beasts, as they were far slower than their smaller brethren. All they needed to do was to simply vault over the monstrous bears, and they would be able to retreat properly.

At least, that was the plan. However, this entire mission had a tendency to ignore the plan, and this time was no different. Before the two could even attempt to bypass the wall of Ursai, an ominous bell tolled.

Qrow's eyes narrowed, as did Winter's. They were quick learners, and their previous encounters told them exactly what that bell meant. Well, not exactly, but it was more than enough to act as a warning, as both of them recognized the significance of the event. Even before the echoes of the mysterious chime faded, the room ignited in a flare of power, as dust wove through the air, swirling in unnatural colours of red and teal.

"Oh, you've got to be kidding me!" The Black-haired huntsman was the first to spot the dust's target, as the burst of energy flashed outwards, arcing towards one of the Ursa guarding the door. Part of him finally recognized how odd it was for the Ursa to be standing back there in the first place, but most of his attention shifted to the fact that the Ursa was on fire as well.

Just like the damned Deathstalker. Who, by the way, was roaring with renewed anger.

Risking a quick glance away from his opponent, Qrow turned his attention from fire-bound Ursa to the Deathstalker, just in time to see it cleave their friendly Ursa in half. The summon disippated into a cloud of pure white, a stark contrast to the black grimm that surrounded it, but that was the least of Qrow's concerns.

His biggest concern was the fact that, for some odd reason, the Deathstalker wasn't on fire anymore.

And now that it was no longer on fire, the black-haired huntsman noticed something was very wrong. No longer was the grimm's armour plates boney white; instead, they seemed to gleam with a crimson hue, etched same texture you'd see from crystalline dust, almost shimmering with a fiery light. The black carapace underneath was equally foreign, as orange veins of seemed to curl through the beast, pulsating ominously as colour fed into the creature's eyes.

Its eyes.

They were the strangest. Half of the creature's eyes were the same opaque red they had always been, but the other half seemed... wrong. They were completely hollow, gradually dimming into a pit of darkness, the crimson light of wrath seemingly being snuffed out by something... Only for red orbs to rekindle once more, accompanied by another furious roar from the beast of grimm.

The Deathstalker lashed out at the empty air, no longer interested in the two huntsman, as it slammed itself into a nearby wall, crushing lesser grimm beneath it.

"What the hell's going on?" There were no answers for Qrow's question, as neither he nor his white-garbed companion make heads or tails of the strange event. Not that they could afford to, as the sound of claw against blade reminded the two of their current conflict. "Damnit! You're still here, aren't you?"

Qrow glared at the fire-infused Ursa, eyes narrowing as he watched the beast consume itself in fire, burning as brightly as the Deathstalker had done earlier. "Say, you wanna be a pal and just skip to the part where you maul your grimm buddies?"

A swipe of the Ursa's claw answered the man's quip.

"Alright, fine! Hey Ice Queen, we're out of here!"

Qrow's voice came from behind the Ursa, and neither the Atlesian Operative nor the Ursa itself could understand how. Still, the huntress recovered herself far faster than the beast of grimm did, and before anything else could protest, the two were out of the room proper.

And Nox watched them leave without a second thought.

Admittedly, it was uncharacteristic of him to allow test subjects free reign of his facility, but there was something far more worrisome than a few local pests. After all, his Noxines had full view of his facility, allowing him to track their progress through the winding halls. As long as they don't stumble into somewhere important, Nox could afford to ignore them.

What he couldn't afford to ignore was the results of his latest experiment. The lights of the Xelor's mask dimmed, the shutters narrowing as he focused his gaze on the shadow-beast before him. It was... rampaging, for lack of a better term. Honestly, this wasn't an unexpected outcome, as the man knew that his Wakfu couldn't serve as a perfect substitute for this world's mysterious energy. Still, he had hoped that the cohesion between the powder crystal and the forces of creation was stable enough to enforce the shadow beast the same way that that woman's energies had enforced her ivory bear.

Instead, it seemed to have the exact opposite effect. Even before the monster's flames died out, Nox could clearly see the separation between the elemental powder and the creature's own black powder, with Wakfu unable to completely bind the two things together.

Then again, it was Wakfu that had already bonded to the elemental fire, so that might've caused some problems. And, admittedly, the method in which he applied the Wakfu might not have been ideal, as he used a similar process to his mummification process.

...Was that the problem? After all, his mummification process required a significant amount of Wakfu, both from himself and his target. The fact that his Dial had been damaged was probably not ideal, either.

Ah, yes, his Dial. He'd have to address that issue eventually as well.

Nox was no fool, and he was reasonably certain of how that test subject damaged his dial in the first place. After all, he was a Xelor of considerable power, and while his Dials were his own creation, they were still inexorably tied to the dials constructed by the followers of the God of Xelor; Not directly, mind you, but in concept. Both served as a conduit for Wakfu, with the express purpose of manipulating time. Sure, Nox's Dial had far more functionality than that, but that similarity remained.

So, the Xelor was reasonably certain that the test subject had manipulated time in some way.

Not any useful way, of course, since it seemed to have been directly exclusively at the woman. Focused time-dilation was certainly an interesting technique, but one that even the mundane followers of Xelor could learn; not only that, the less incompetent ones were able to bestow on others. Of course, Nox was no different, with his techniques limited only by Wakfu.

Which was what made this issue complicated; the woman didn't use Wakfu. Instead, she used the strange energy that seemed inherent to the local populace.

By itself, this phenomenon was certainly a field worth studying, since it provided a potential alternative to his powers... but it was also something next to impossible for the Xelor to study. At least, it was unfeasible so long as he attempted to study whilst they remained in the influence of his Dial. His previous observations have noted that, if given a distinct point of commonality, Wakfu and this unknown energy end up reacting with violent results.

And unfortunately, having the test subject perform the time dilation inside the influence of his dial seemed to act as a point of commonality.

"Why can't things be simple?" The Xelor sighed, grumbling to himself as he shook his head. Of course, the question was rhetorical, as he had no Grambos to punt for answering incorrectly, and Igole was incapable of simple communication. Also, he wasn't in the room, but that was less of a concern to Nox.

Perhaps he should focus his studies on language, just so he could vent at his test subjects.

Speaking of test subjects, the shadow scorpion from earlier made its presence known once again, slamming against the wall once more as the entire building shook. Another exasperated sigh escaped the Xelor as he turned his attention to the beast, already focusing his power on the creature as he attempted to draw the powder crystal and Wakfu back out from the it.

"Oh, be quiet. You're not even sapient enough to understand the ramifications of your situation, let alone sentient enough to care. Now, hold sti-..." The irritation in Nox's voice gradually changed to curiosity as he drew out more and more Wakfu from the shadow beast.

Just the Wakfu.

The fact that he only drew out the wakfu was less of a mistake, and more of a process, as Nox had chosen to unbind the composite elemental energy before extracting it. After all, he was low on resources, and separating powder-fuel from Wakfu was the best way for him to conserve resources. Yet, that process led to the accidental discovery of an interesting tidbit of information regarding these shadow beasts: their base composition, whatever it was, seemed to bond with powder fuel.

That was something worth studying. As it stands, the only ways Nox knew how to use the elemental powder in the first place was either with Wakfu or with the energy utilized by this world's populace. And considering that that energy enjoyed exploding whenever he tested it, an alternative method of catalyzing the powder-fuel was something he welcomed. All he needed to do was to figure out how it worked.

It was a process very different from the one that bonded elemental powder and Wakfu, but it was still an observable process. And while its efficiency seemed to pale in comparison to using pure Wakfu, requiring far more shadow smoke to utilize the same amount of elemental powder, the energies of creation were still in short supply. These shadow beasts? Well... He's got a forest full of them. All he'd have to do is-

And that's when Nox's attention abruptly shifted.

As much as he'd like to contemplate the scientific benefits of using shadow beasts as a proper resource, his network of Noxines drew his attention elsewhere. Each of his scout drones were fixed upwards, lenses focused on a fleet of metallic vehicles soaring through the skies, their rumblings clear to the forest below as they made their way to his abode.

"Think we're in the clear?"

Even at the best of times, Winter never liked the cocky voice that followed Qrow Branwen, and her current situation did nothing to change that fact. Still, she had little room to complain, as his question mirrored her own concerns. Taking a quick moment to catch her breath, the huntress turned her attention back to the hallway behind them.

They had only been running for a few minutes, but the sheer ferocity of their charge seemed to have been enough to deter their pursuers. Coupled with the fact that a huntsman or huntress at full speed was nearly unmatched by conventional means, Winter was certain that they had created a significant buffer between themselves and the horde of grimm.

But a buffer was hardly a replacement for actual security, and they were certainly not secure.

"We may have eluded them for now, but that does not change the fact that we're in enemy territory. A fact that you would do well to remember." Winter's voice was terse as she shot a single glare at the man beside her. Were it anyone else, she would've met them with professional courtesy. However, she had the displeasure of working with Qrow in the past, and his insufferable habits coloured her opinions of him.

While he was passable in times of crisis, his true character was intolerable. More than once, she had found him completely intoxicated when she had delegated him with the task of gathering information, and more than once, she had had to clean up the ensuing mess. Were it not for the fact that Ironwood himself had assigned those missions, Winter would've refused them outright.

"Ooh, look at the bossy little princess." The man's voice rang up again, the sarcastic tone of his voice a permanent fixture of the man's personality. Winter found it taxing to keep her irritation under control, as the man had a way of- "If I remember correctly, I was the one who had to bail you out."

That slight was enough for Winter to push her restraint aside. Instead, the Atlesian operative shot a glare at the huntsman, her eyes narrowing as she focused on him. "What?"

"You heard me. In case you forgot, our mummy friend was about to cut you in two before I stepped in." Qrow's voice was nonchalant, treating his words as an after thought as he shrugged at her. "Unless that was part of your master plan. I mean, you did show off in front of his scout bugs before making your way here. Maybe you just wanted his attention?"

Winter ignored the smirk on the huntsman's face, as something else caught her attention. "... scout bugs? What do you mean?"

"Oh, I'm sorry. I thought Atlas was supposed to be good at this." The black-haired ingrate rolled his eyes, an exaggerated motion as he deliberately took his time. After a few long seconds, the man finally provided an answer, tilting his head up to the ceiling. "Take a look, princess. I'm sure even you can't miss them."

That's when the woman finally looked up. At first, she saw nothing, her eyes merely taking note of the various rails and gears that seemed to populate the rafters. However, her vision soon adjusted, and she gradually became aware of the smaller shapes hidden in the shadows, marked only by dim hues.

"What are..."

"Like I said. Scout bugs." Qrow reached into his pouch, before pulling out the shattered remains of one such bug. "Look familiar? The forest is full of them. Pretty sure our resident maniac uses them for, you know, scouting."

The Atlesian operative settled her gaze onto the metallic remains, her brow furrowing as the corner of her lips curled downwards. She was displease, to say the least. And really, was that surprising? As much as she would've like to say otherwise, Winter hadn't noticed those during her recon mission. Instead, she had been focused entirely on potentially spotting White Fang scouts.

"... Did you say the forest is full of them?"

A nod from the man confirmed it. And, despite his usual sarcastic nature, Winter knew that the huntsman was telling the truth. "Yep. So, to answer the question I just asked you: No, we're not in the clear. You get a D-minus for your answer, by the way. Which I can give, since, you know, I'm a teacher."

"What? Why you-!" Winter was about to snap at his quip, but the telltale buzzing of her Scroll stopped her in her tracks. The red-eyed huntsman noticed this, his posture instantly tensing as he threw a glance at the woman, before nodding.

Winter scoffed. She did not need his permission to read her Scroll. It took her only a few moments to access the device, and even shorter to realize that it was video call, rather than a simple message.

A video call from a certain commander.

"Sir?" Winter accepted the call without delay. After all, they were in the wilds, and due to their distance from the CCTs, video calls were almost never utilized. Relays were few and far in-between, with heavily restricted access at the best of times. The fact that the commander chose to use it to contact her spoke volumes of the message's importance.

"Atlesian operative."

Winter frowned. The few interactions she had with the Rhinestone Security official was enough to tell her that he wasn't one to stand on ceremony. If he was addressing her like this... What was going on?

Her answer came quickly.

"Your reconnaissance mission has been cancelled. Your new orders are to assist with Rhinestone Security Forces in their efforts to claim local strategic assets." The Rhinestone Security Officer's voice held no trace of deceit or humour, his eyes fixed on Winter's as he began briefing her on the situation. His expression softened slightly, as though to explain it to Winter in more common terms... However, she was apt at reading between the lines.

As was Qrow.

"So the council's authorized your little attack, huh?"

Winter was about to throw a glare at the huntsman, as he had announced his presence without a second thought. She quickly stopped herself, however, when she realized that the Rhinestone Security Officer was not at all surprised. If anything, he looked... relieved? What was this about?

"Huh. He sent you? Should've figured."

"Who else would he send, Jared?" Qrow took the man's statements into stride, which only brought more questions to Winter's mind. But, before she could voice her concern, the red-eyed huntsman quickly changed his tone, his voice growing far more serious. "By the way... there's something you should probably know."

Winter could see that the Veteran caught the huntsman's tone, his eyes narrowing through the holographic display.

"You're going up against something far more dangerous than the White Fang. And it knows you're coming."