IMPORTANT

Eternal Crown is set to be promoted to a weekly story and will, after this chapter, no longer update every second Tuesday. Instead it will update every Sunday. The first Sunday of updates will be Sunday 20th. A new story will take this one's spot on Tuesday 22nd Feb. As always, story alerts will let you know but for those who don't use accounts, etc, here is the information. Dates will (should) always be accurate at bottom.

Chapter 4

There were many in Ansel who considered the land outside, at least beyond the farms, to be wildland. It was not. His father had told him once what real wildland looked like. For all that their family were considered brave for roaming the woods outside Ansel, they were relatively peaceful. The trees crowded together, at the base of which could be gathered mushrooms and tubers if you knew which were good and which weren't, and squirrels darted up and down their trunks, clinging to the bark with their tiny claws.

The odd fox, rare but not unusual to see during the daytime, poked is head up at the sound or scent of them, tensed and bolted away. The deer did likewise, perhaps even recognising him as a hunter. Birds warbled from branches and tracked their movements with beady eyes, while a light breeze rustled the loose leaves that were only just beginning to turn orange and drift to the floor. Soon, it would be time for harvest. Soon, the fields would be filled with men and women carefully prying roots and vegetables from the ground, and the storehouses would be swept clean of any rats and vermin.

They never trusted him to work the fields lest he ruin the crops with his sickness. Normally, he was left to hunt rats or, if the carpenter was desperate, to pin planks to old food barrels and crates that had been chewed away at by said vermin. The work was only ever hammering planks over the weakened spots, but it was good, honest work and Cobbin always made sure he was paid for it with a little beer and coin. The mayor had been good to the Arc family, even after his own peculiarities scared most of the village folk away.

It wasn't until twigs snapped underfoot that he remembered he wasn't alone – hunting was oft a lonely job and it was easy to fall back into old habits. A quick look back showed the two Huntresses were still with him. More still, they trekked along in their heavier equipment with no sign of fatigue, not even a slight tint of red to their cheeks or laboured breath. Nor fear for their surroundings, though he supposed that was to be expected. Pyrrha caught his gaze and returned a cheerful smile. Jaune looked back ahead again and cleared his throat.

"The river is just up ahead. It's not too deep and I know the best place to ford it. We'll get our ankles wet but nothing else."

"A little water won't harm us," Pyrrha said.

"The cave." Cinder interrupted impatiently. "Is that beyond the river?"

"Just a little past it, aye. There's a short stretch of woodland and then it gives way to the footsteps – that's those mountains you saw in the distance. They're more like hills," he admitted, "but the sides are steep enough and rocky. There are a couple of caves set at the bottom."

The tinkling sound of the river broke into the conversation. It was not a powerful thing outside of the spring months when children were kept away. Until then, you'd be hard pressed to drown in it without really trying. It was ice-cold however, and reached up to the knee at its deepest, and in the winter it had been known not to freeze over, but to leave people stricken with frostbite if they trekked through it unwarily. Now, it would be cold but not unpleasantly so.

"It looks clean." Pyrrha noted. "This comes from the mountains?"

"There's a spring up there that breaks out the side and trickles down. We could follow the river up there, but it's a sheer rock face and the caves aren't on that side." Jaune moved northwards up the river with the huntresses in tow, pointing ahead of him to where the water visibly bubbles and frothed over high rocks and pebbles. "The ground is higher there. That's our point to cross."

It wasn't much of a ford. Too narrow for horses or a wagon, but enough for a human to pick their way. Jaune took out his spear and used the butt to stab down and test the rocky outcrop before each step. It had always held before and he normally wouldn't have, but the last thing he wanted was to be proven a fool before the two of them.

The water was as cold as expected, drawing a grunt from him and a short hiss from Pyrrha – a reflexive sound, he suspected. Cinder took her bow from her back and held it above her head even though the water was nowhere near close enough. In single file, they slowly moved across, Jaune testing each step and warning them of the slippery ones. It was tempting, but ultimately foolish, to try and use the stones that cropped above the water as steppingstones. They were wet and slippery however, especially those with moss growing on them. Dad had warned him to beware of shortcuts like that, for they were often unused for good reason.

Jaune stepped out first onto the other side and turned in what he hoped was a gentlemanly manner, extending a hand back. Pyrrha took and gripped his wrist and allowed him to haul her out, but Cinder only rolled her eyes and stepped out on her own, strapping the bow back behind her waist. Jaune brought his hand back and thumbed his nose self-consciously. He knew they were huntresses and so far above him it wasn't funny, and Cinder's easy dismissal made him wonder if Pyrrha wasn't just humouring him. You're not in their league, Jaune. Stop thinking like you are.

"Not many from the village go this far," he said, feeling foolish even as he said it. To them, it must have seemed so dumb that a village didn't even dare step across a river they'd crossed in under two minutes. It wasn't so much superstition as practicality, however. Ansel wasn't large enough to need that much space or resources, and so there had never been need to lumber or forage across it.

"We're not far now," he went on. "The woods here are a little more dangerous – mostly wolves at this time, but there's the odd bear that might still be trying to gather food for the winter." Unsure how much of a threat that might be to them he added, "We normally back away when we see one and go around, or back. Is that what you'd do?"

"A bear is no threat to us." Cinder said. "But we do not seek pointless fights."

"Right. Well. We'll go around if it happens then," he said. "Unless it's using the cave you two want." Jaune shook the water from his spear and pointed the iron tip ahead. "It's this way. Mind your step, the animals like to hide their burrows at the base of bushes to hide them. You might want to walk where I walk. I'll test the ground ahead."

He stabbed at the floor with the butt of his spear for emphasis and the two nodded. They must have been as used to this as he, probably more so, but he didn't see any staves they could use. With a shrug, he continued on, a slow pace, but one where he prodded around ahead with his spear haft. The goal was to feel when a hole was ahead by the butt going down too far, thus avoiding a twisted or broken ankle. That could be fatal out this far, though it'd happened to him twice and his sisters a few times when they let their guard down, and it'd not cost anyone their lives yet. It wouldn't here with two huntresses, but again, he'd rather not humiliate himself.

They were patient about it, for which he was grateful. The last stretch of thick forest was navigated in near silence, but for Jaune pulling vines and branches away, stamping bushes flat and the odd moment where he would point out a burrow and have them walk carefully around it. Animals avoided their path, bar the squirrels who chattered angrily at them when they passed over stored stashes of nuts, and it wasn't long before the trees thinned and the rocky, amber-hued walls of the footsteps appeared rising up before them.

Gnarled with vines and even the occasional dogged tree that had decided to defy nature and plant itself halfway up, it was an unnaturally steep rise up to an equally odd, flattened top. Jaune had been up there once with his father and Saphron, when they'd decided to bring rope and scout it out. There were a few animals, mostly birds, who made it their home, but the eggs they gathered didn't make it worth the effort and they hadn't scaled it since. The spring could be heard rushing out the rockface around the corner to the east, out of sight but audible as it crashed down into the river it had carved out of silt and rock with sheer force.

"This is it." Jaune said needlessly. "The footsteps."

"Impressive." Given that it was Cinder who said it, he took it to heart. "It is as though a giant cut a mountain in half and carried the top away. It is a smooth cut."

"It's not so smooth when you get up there," he said. "But it looks it from down here."

"Hm. Where are the caves?"

Jaune pointed west, away from the rushing water. "This way. They're dotted around the base and pretty easy to find once you're here."

True to his words, it didn't take them long to find the first craggy entrance, a vertical split through the rock opening up into a wide cave mouth from which came a warm, fetid scent. Another was already visible further down, much narrower, enough so that a person would have to squeeze through it sideways.

"The annals say the cave was hidden and that only the light of a fire within gave the Dark Lord away," Pyrrha said mor to Cinder than to him. "Could it truly be this one?"

"Annals can be wrong." Cinder said. "But I am also doubtful. Check it anyway. Guide, come with me – we shall investigate the next."

Jaune watched Pyrrha head to the cave mouth and said, "But what if there's a bear!?"

Pyrrha waved back to say it was fine, but Cinder only gripped him by the elbow and dragged him away. "What think you could do if we were in danger?" she asked. "If there is a bear, she shall deal with it. Your job is to guide."

Not to fight with them. Not to have an opinion. He'd known, of course, but Cinder's reminder was cold enough to have him wincing. Pyrrha soon vanished into the first cave and Cinder had them at the second, the narrow crag. The woman planted her hands either side of the crack and peered into it, drawing back after a few seconds.

"There is a small chamber inside." Jaune said.

"I saw it. I will enter first to ensure it is safe. You shall come after."

"Shall I light a torch?"

"That will not be necessary."

Cinder took a moment to take off her bow and lean it against the rockface, then also to remove her travelling cloak, which might have gotten stuck. She tied her hair into a ponytail and tucked it into her chainmail as well, before placing one boot and one hand into the crack and shimmying after it. From memory, Jaune knew it was claustrophobically tight, but he'd neve gotten trapped inside and he was broader than Cinder. The huntress pulled herself inside and, after a few moments, called for him to follow.

It was not hard to see why a torch wasn't needed. Cinder held her left hand aloft and a generous flame flickered in the palm of it, glowing out from between cupped fingers and casting bright orange shadows across the rock walls.

The cavern was small, tight but thankfully empty. There were no deeper paths leading from it and spiders scuttled across the walls into tiny crevasses to hide from the light. He'd been here once or twice when he was younger, back when it seemed a fun game to hide from his older sisters and give them a heart attack, and once when he was older and the jibes from the other kids had him needing somewhere to vent. It had always felt a safe haven for that, somewhere he could go and not be pursued. It was his secret spot, a place he could hide when he was feeling glum, where he could angrily shout, cry or just sit in the quiet dark and think things through without worrying his family.

Having Cinder here felt wrong, as if she'd stepped into his sanctum and was sullying it with her presence. He wanted her out – and wished he hadn't told her about this place at all. Dully, he shook his head. Where had those thoughts even come from? Sure, she was rude compared to Pyrrha, but she hadn't done anything wrong. Other than cut my cheek open. If Pyrrha hadn't healed me of it, I'd still be nursing that.

"This is the place." Cinder said at last. She moved with purpose to the crack and shouted, "Pyrrha! We have it! Come."

It was a minute or two before Pyrrha squeezed her way through, chainmail scraping on the rock as she did. Her sword swung on her left hip behind her, clanking against rock as she finally stepped inside. "Are you sure?" she asked excitedly. "Ah – it's hidden. Just like the annals said."

"More than that, the narrow entrance that the Dark Lord slew eight of our sisters within." Cinder pointed. "Imagine having to fight an enemy hidden away in here. You would be near defenceless, trapped in place and easy prey for his magic."

As would the poor soul inside, Jaune couldn't help but think. This haven of his was beginning to feel more and more like a cage. The walls were pressing in, threatening to smother him, and the heat grew – burning hot until he was struggling to breathe. Jaune pants for air, sweating and clenching his hands tight as the heat became unbearable. It was all around him now, burning his skin and sucking the air right out his lungs. He wanted to cough, but the motion was caught in his throat and threatened to choke him.

He couldn't breathe. He was going to-

"Jaune!" Pyrrha had a hand on his shoulder. "Are you alright?"

"W-What?"

"You were shaking."

He- Jaune swallowed and wiped his forehead, suddenly aware of just how much sweat was on the back of his hand. Though Cinder's flame lit the way, one could not call the small cave warm, let alone as hot as he'd thought it then. The air was a chill autumn and while inside here it was a little musty, it was not that bad. He'd been here plenty of times before and even lit a small campfire by the exit without having a panic attack like this. What had gotten into him?

"I'm fine," he said. "I'm, ah, not very good in tight spaces." A lie. He was fine in them – great, even. They were excellent for escaping hungry animals and larger ones you couldn't fight. "S-So, you're saying the Dark Lord was once fought and captured here?"

"Killed." Cinder said distractedly. She was inspecting the floor and walls. "Long before our time, before any of us were born. Three Dark Lords back, it was. He was tracked here but slew any who sought to enter. The decision was made to smoke him out. Fires were lit outside, and flames and smoke was sent inward. Rather than leave and face the Eternity Queen's justice, he chose to stay and burn to death." After a long pause, she said, "He likely suffocated on the smoke and died from it."

All of a sudden his secret little haven didn't sound so safe.

"Do you mind if I wait outside? It's cramped in here."

"Oh. Yes of course. That's fine, is it not, Cinder?"

"Hm? Yes, yes. As he wishes. He is not needed here." The dark-haired huntress did not even look up from her investigation. With a weary smile for Pyrrha, he rushed out of the cave as fast as he could, scraping his arm on the way out.

That had to be a coincidence back there. Cinder's fire, the closed confines, the heat – the story must have made his mind run wild. He wasn't the Dark Lord – he couldn't be. They'd said so, and he'd bled when Cinder cut him. His arm now bore a pink line from where he'd scraped it on the rock in his haste to escape. Not deep enough to cut or ooze blood, but enough to show he could be cut.

If I had their aura I wouldn't have this, he thought. It was strange to stare at a risen pink series of bumps on his skin and feel pride. These, and all my other scars, are proof that I'm me. Not… Not someone else. Not him.

The nightmares were his. The visions were his. This life was his.

No one else's.

Jaune slumped down to sit against the rock by Cinder's bow and cloak and closed his eyes. His heart was pounding still. Maybe, just maybe, he shouldn't have come here. Maybe his dad had been right. The sooner this was over, the better.

/-/

It was a full hour later when the two huntresses returned. What they could be doing in so small a cave for such a long time he had no idea, but he appreciated the silence all the same. It let him gather his thoughts, dismiss others and remind himself that they'd said he wasn't possessed. His own doubts didn't – couldn't – matter in the face of that. These were the Goddess' Chosen. They wouldn't make mistakes like that.

"Did you find anything?" he forced himself to ask.

"Nothing." Pyrrha said, smiling brightly. "And that's all we needed. If he hasn't been here, that's one region we can tick off the list."

Good. That was great news, enough that he had the courage to ask, "Would he have really gone somewhere you found him before?"

"They have in the past. The Dark Lord is always hunted and is often driven to madness and ambition. Since he has his memories from each of his lives, it's a recurring trend that he travel back to old outposts of his. We believe it to be a security instinct, a subconscious urge to go where he knows it is safe."

"There are some signs it was used in the past," Pyrrha said, "But distant signs and not enough to base anything off. He's not here now and that's what is important. You say few people come out this far?"

"Only my family really."

"Do you or your sisters visit the cave?"

"I don't like it in there," he lied. "But my sisters might. You could ask-"

"No. The Dark Lord only possesses men and there's no point looking further into this. Caves are used by more than just monsters. Bears, hunters, travellers and thieves. It could have been anyone or anything." Cinder picked up her bow once more and swung her cloak back on. "Let us back to your village. We shall collect our horses, the girl with talent, and make for the capital."

Back home. Thank goodness. Despite all his experience out here and all the excitement he'd had before at the idea, he longed to be back within a familiar home, even if his father was as like to tear him a new asshole for sneaking out in the first place. At this point, he'd take it as nothing more than he deserved. Jaune forced a smile for the huntresses and pointed back to the woods, gripping his spear halfway down the haft and tracing the path they'd taken back as best he could.

The more distance they made from the footsteps, the calmer his heart began to beat. The forest felt more familiar, more alive, and the sounds of all the animals and birds helped soothe his soul in a way those images of smoke and burning flame had not. It was easy to think that it was all far away, and that soon the huntresses and all these stupid thoughts of Dark Lords and war would be as well. Soon, it would be just him, the forest, the deer and a bow. As things should be.

"I'm sorry you both ended up wasting your time," he said cheerfully. The lack of results didn't bother him a bit, but they were the Goddess' Chosen, and they deserved respect whatever his opinion.

"T'was no waste." Pyrrha said. "We have identified where he is not, and we have also picked up a potential new sister. Maria, was it? Can you tell us anything about her?"

"Oh sure." The change of subject was more than welcome and Jaune dove into what little he knew of the farmer's daughter. Like most of the children in Ansel growing up, she hadn't had time or attention for him, but he knew stories form his sisters. "There was never anything unusual about her. Nothing that would have made us guess she was chosen."

"There often isn't. Aura can manifest in times of great peril, but as most live peaceful lives it would not show. It takes more than everyday scrapes and bumps to draw it out. That's why we, and others like us, visit villages and towns when we can. There are never enough Chosen."

"To fight the Dark Lord?"

"There isn't much fighting to be honest. Every now and then a Dark Lord will try, but they are outnumbered and outmatched. We have the Eternity Queen's grace and gift, and training and time to master it, while he will only ever have limited understanding of his power at best. It has been over a hundred years since a Dark Lord actually managed to gather a force and start a proper war."

"Every now and then a fake might try." Cinder snapped. "But often it's bandit leaders or mercenary captains trying to make themselves sound important or intimidate their fellows. A waste of our time whenever it calls for us."

"Still, more sisters are always a welco-"

The tree to Jaune's left exploded suddenly, showering him with sharp twigs and splinters that stuck into his skin. He cried out, then sucked it in when his eyes caught sight of the massive, hulking black shape that came crashing through. His eyes bulged, his heart clenched, and he might have lost control of his bladder had he not been yanked back off his feet.

Slamming into a tree, he was suddenly aware of the two huntresses in front of him, Cinder having dragged him out of harm's way as Pyrrha shouted a challenge and charged the beast with drawn steel. It was a huge thing over seven feet tall, with arms as thick as a tree trunk and stooped, hulking shoulders dotted with vicious bone-like spikes.

"A… A Grimm!" he cried.

"Stay!" Cinder snapped and pushed him against the tree again. She shoved off him and drew an arrow from a thin leather quiver strapped to the back of her hip, nocking it to her bowstring but not yet drawing. "Do you need aid?" she called to Pyrrha.

"I'm fine!" Pyrrha shouted back. The redhead swayed under a claw as big as her torso, swept her sword up and stabbed into the underside of the creature's arm, right into the joints between its elbow and forearm. The sword came free a second later, spraying crimson blood across grass and leaves. The Grimm, as close to a bear if one bear could be so gargantuan, roared its fury and brought both hands across as if to sweep every three in its path aside.

In a display of incredible acrobatics, Pyrrha ran at the nearest tree, jumped and kicked off its trunk, using it to carry her over its arms even as the tree was shattered across the middle. She landed on the other side, drew her sword back and stabbed at the monster's bony facemask, plunging the tip into its left eye socket before drawing free.

"See to any others, sister!" Pyrrha yelled. "Ursa rarely travel alone!"

Ursa-? Those things had names – and there might be more of them? His dad had trained them what to do if a Grimm ever came close to Ansel, but all that training felt so very far away now. He gripped his spear in two shaking hands and watched as Pyrrha fought one beast and Cinder slowly paced away from him, eyes peeled for more.

There were two huntresses, he told himself. He'd be fine. But the question of why Grimm were this close to Ansel at all had him rooted to the spot. He backed up even further, trying to put distance between him and Pyrrha's fight. His back brushed up against another tree, the sharp bark biting into his back.

Hot, stinking breath wafted down on his neck. Jaune looked up, eyes growing wide as plates as the head of a second beast was staring down on him, its bulk partially concealed behind the tree he was leaning against, one of its mighty claws on it and the other on another as if to pull itself through. For a second, it looked as surprised to see him as he did it.

Only for a second.

Bark cracked as the tree he was against was torn back in one of its hands, uprooted and yanked away before he could steady himself. Jaune stumbled back, feet struggling for purchase and pitching him towards it. His spear thrust was clumsy and clinked harmlessly off its jaw, hardly even scratching a line on its rough, black skin. With an angry roar, its other arm came around and toward him, viciously sharp claws slashing straight into his gut.

Agony. Pure agony. Jaune screamed out in pain even as he was sent flying back over the now ruined tree, tripping and landing flat on his back on the other side. The blow had driven the air from him and likely torn his body to shreds. The pain was there, burning across his stomach, and it was with naked terror that he clutched a hand to it to hold his insides in.

His hand touched cloth. His hide clothing, his linen tunic and his body – whole and hard and not at all soaked with blood and gore like it should have been. From his position, legs up over the trunk he'd been knocked over, back on the floor, he could see his own stomach when he looked down. It wasn't torn open, nor was he bleeding. The clothing wasn't even torn at all.

Instead, his stomach was glowing.

A shimmer, almost enough to look a trick of the light if not for the fact it was reflecting on the palm of his hand. There was no doubting it. His body was emanating a soft, subtle white glow from the area he'd been struck. From where a monster with strength enough to tear an entire tree from the ground had somehow failed to disembowel an unarmoured, teenage boy.

No… No, no, no. This can't be happening.

They'd said he was fine – they'd said he didn't have aura! They cut him and it didn't protect him, so why- why had it protected him now? Jaune watched with sickening nausea as the glow lessened and then vanished. Even if it had gone, there was no denying what had happened. That blow should have torn him in two.

The twang of a bowstring and then another echoed the thud of arrows and a pained roar. The Grimm, a mirror of the first, crashed backwards into several more trees beyond him, flailing its mighty arms and ripping down the trees in its path as it fell. Quick as a stoat, Cinder darted in and up onto its barrel chest, jumped to above its face, angled her bow down and loosed. Then, with practiced movements, drew another and loosed it a second time. The Grimm's feet twitched before it lay still.

"Jaune!" Pyrrha shouted. Twigs cracked and leaves crunched as she came running on by. He heard her amour clink and jostle with every step. "Damn it! Jaune!"

"I… I'm here!" he called out. There was a pause and a gasp before Pyrrha came running up. One grey boot landed on the trunk between his knees, and she stood above him, drenched with blood not her own and with sword still drawn.

"You're…" Her eyes travelled down his body. "You're alive…? Did the Grimm not hit you?"

"I fell!" he said. He forced his panic down and a shy, almost embarrassed look to his face. He had to lie – of course he did. This was a mistake. It had to be. "I screamed when I saw it and tripped when the tree was pulled away. Near saved my life. Its arm went right over me. If that hit me…"

"You-? Ahah." Pyrrha shook her head and sheathed her weapon. "You lucky fool. Few men can survive a direct hit from an Ursa, not unless it clips them. Your clumsiness may well have saved your life. He lives!" she called to Cinder. "He is unharmed."

"Did the Grimm strike him? How does he live?"

"It missed." Pyrrha answered. Jaune was grateful she did and not him and hoped Cinder would assume that meant Pyrrha saw it happen. He pointedly ignored the hand Pyrrha offered to pull him up. What if they could sense it in him? He pushed off the log instead, dusting himself down. "A lucky break," she said, "Or we would be delivering ill news to his family."

"No luck but the Goddess' grace," Cinder replied. "But why are Grimm here? Did they follow us?" She kept her bow out and her eyes scanned the trees. Their wariness of another attack perhaps kept them from asking more about his story. He was alive, unharmed, and their first instinct was to believe him and keep an eye out for more Grimm. He wasn't about to dissuade them. "We should return and away. If the Grimm are being drawn to us, we do these people no good by staying. Boy," she snapped. "I would advise you and your family avoid the woods for a few days. A week at least. Let any more Grimm grow tired and wander away."

"Y-Yes Huntress. I'll do that."

"Good. Pyrrha, take the lead. You're in the middle, boy. Back to the village to collect our girl and leave. We've wasted time enough here as it is."

/-/

Ansel was alive and bustling with activity when they returned, not long after noon when he'd told his father they would be meeting with him. Nicholas was shaking with rage in the shadow of the gate, and though his shaking lessened on seeing them safe and well, he continued to glare at the huntresses, especially since Pyrrha, who had no time to wash her armour, was still covered in blood.

Maria was waiting anxiously with her family, a small bag of belongings set aside and her parents weeping over her. Seeing that Pyrrha's blood-soaked armour would not help, Cinder went to talk with them, leaving Pyrrha to collect their horses and ready them.

Jaune stumbled away from the two, toward his father, ashen-faced and frightened. Not, as he might have before, at what his father would do. It was too late to be afraid of that, especially after what he'd seen. What he'd learned. Nicholas met him, opened his mouth and then grunted as Jaune threw himself against the larger man. Sensing something amiss, he closed his mouth and wrapped his arms around his son's shoulders.

"I'm sorry." Jaune whispered. "I'm sorry."

"It's fine," Nicholas said in a deep and rumbling voice. "Go home. Rest. We can talk on the morrow. Things will return to normal soon enough. Once their kind are gone. You'll see."

He wasn't sure they would, not knowing what he knew now, not able to put a name to the voices in his nightmares, to the visions he'd experienced and to the aura now coursing through his body, humming just under the surface of his skin. He could feel it now, alive and beating like a second heartbeat. The Dark Lord had been reborn.

Inside of him.

Just your friendly reminder that Jaune, and all of Remnant, have lived under Salem's rule for about a thousand years. That Ozma is evil is accepted as fact, absolutely factual history, and people arguing that Jaune should be able to tell Ozma isn't evil just because of some nightmares he hardly remembers might be simplifying what being taught something since birth does to you.

Jaune has every reason to believe Ozma is evil, and now that this Dark Lord lives inside of him and is the reason he's been experiencing all those visions and nightmares, and that Ozma will continue to drive him made until he takes control and uses Jaune's body to begin his evil plans.

It's not unreasonable from Jaune's PoV.

Next Chapter: SUNDAY 20th February

And then every Sunday afterwards.

P a treon . com (slash) Coeur