Still feeling worn down by COVID here. It's still not as bad as the first time I had it – when, not to be dramatic, but it felt so bad I feared for my life. Now it's a constant ache and pain that is keeping me from focusing, but it's bearable. I can just about manage it, though writing is not easy.

Cover Art: GWBrex

Chapter 24

Jaune couldn't see what Ozma was so worried about. It was a little strange for the Dark Lord to be worried about any one person in the first place, other than perhaps the Eternity Queen who was still up in the stands. Sir Goddard twisted his wrist to spin the parrying dagger about, rolled his shoulders and tilted his helmet from side to side. He then wheeled his arm to loosen it, stepped up to his spot in the arena and continued to stretch and move his limbs.

It looked like he was still sore from the first fight to the casual observer, but Ozma had put the idea of an imposter in his head already, and Jaune couldn't help but think the stretching and flexing was a little too obvious. All that Ozma did was gently twirl his sword to loosen his wrist, then pull his shield up in front of him and flex his knees. The countdown began, the crowd chanting down, and the horn was blown.

Sir Goddard was fast!

Almost too soon, the man was upon him swinging down one-handed with his sword. Ozma took a step back and deflected the blow with his shield but didn't stop there. He was leaning back even before the dagger lunged for his eyes, batting it aside on the act of drawing his sword back, then completing the movement to swing for Sir Goddard's head. The knight turned barely got his sword up in time – and it was barely. The parry looked remarkably clumsy for someone so quick.

Ozma followed up by slamming the shield into the man's chest and then the rim up under his helmet. The knight staggered back, his dagger hand going straight to his helm and holding it in place. The man kept his sword pointed out, not attacking but warding them away. He adjusted his helmet to better see and approached at a much slower, measured pace. Had he been underestimated? It wasn't like he could fault the man, because someone with his background really shouldn't have been this good. Still, he'd have thought after watching the melee and the last round that the other competitors would have started to take him seriously. Odd that this man didn't – had he not seen the matches? Maybe they'd kept this replacement hidden away and he hadn't watched them.

With the first clash over, Ozma and Goddard traded probing strikes and half-hearted blows. Conservation of stamina was the name of the game, with neither committing too far. Sir Goddard's blows rapped lightly off his shield, while Ozma's thrusts were parried away by the dagger.

It continued for some ten or more light taps of metal on metal or wood, until Ozma gently thrust again but suddenly followed, lunging forward and throwing all his weight into the attack. Goddard had made to parry with his dagger again expecting a light attack but was put on the back foot by the unexpected aggression. His dagger found the sword's edge again but his wrist buckled under the pressure and the sword went through, smashing into the man's armour just under his shoulder where the plate was absent for freedom of movement. A killing blow! Jaune gasped in his own head as Ozma did it, the blade sinking through purple cotton and flesh.

Or it should have.

The sword scraped off something harder than skin and carried on, for all intents and purposes looking to the audience as though he had missed the man's armpit, or that Goddard had dodged and escaped by the skin of his teeth. Jaune knew better from being so close, a passenger in his own body, and he saw the blade strike true and be diverted.

How-? That didn't make sense! Even if it didn't kill Goddard, it should have badly wounded him, and a knight without one arm and bleeding profusely would have surely forfeit. Even now, Goddard staggered away with a violent hiss, but that didn't stop him bringing his sword around in a wild slash. Ozma put their shield between it but the horrific crack of it splintering shocked Jaune to the core. The steel blade had punched through, not without being stopped but wedged through the wood. Goddard tore it out, splintering and wrecking what was left. Ozma threw the remains of the thing into the man's face to blind him and ducked low, swinging for the backs of his heels.

Jaune, meanwhile, was shaken. Part of his limited training in the Branwen Camp had indeed featured broken shields – Qrow had him hold his while Yang went at it with an axe to show him what it was like. It had taken the strong woman six or seven hits to break through, surprising Jaune with just how resilient the shield was. Qrow had explained that a good shield wasn't just a plank of wood with a metal rim to keep it together; it was treated and reinforced, hardened and then left to dry into something not quite as durable as metal, but infinitely cheaper and significantly lighter. The dangers of it breaking, Qrow explained, would come from heavy axes, two-handed maces and if he was unlucky enough to face it, a lance on a cavalry charge.

A sword should not have had the weight necessary to shatter wood – not in one hit, anyway. Maybe if the shield had taken such a beating as to be falling apart when it did, but his was as good as new.

Goddard swung again, forcing Ozma to dodge, then followed up with a reverse cut that caught their sword and sent pain shooting down their right arm. The force of those blows was staggering, enough to physically hurt, and Ozma gritted their teeth against it. When the next strike came, an overhead cut, Ozma brought his sword up horizontally with one hand on the hilt and one flat against the blade further down it, catching Goddard's blow at the halfway point. It was powerful enough to knock them down onto one knee.

The knife! Jaune shrieked in warning. Watch out for the-

The dagger cut across his face. Would have stabbed right through his cheek had Ozma not yanked his head back. Instead, it cut a nasty groove into his jaw drawling blood that ran freely down his neck. As the dagger sailed on by without resistance, Ozma released the sword on the left and surrendered it, rolling to the right as Goddard felt staggered through, not having expected it. Unarmed, there was little they could hope to do, but Ozma lunged in anyway, grasped the knight's bright red plume and pulled with all his might. The helmet came with it, torn off the Sir Goddard's head and revealing his brown hair tied up in a bun.

Or her hair.

Jaune saw it at the same point the audience did. The hair could have been ambiguous, but the pretty face was not. The crier shouted and the horn was blown three times in quick succession to end the match. The crowd booed and shouted angrily, not least of all the Chosen who were up on their feet and pointing. Men-at-arms were rushing into the arena, but they ran by him and surrounded Sir Goddard instead, who lay down her weapon and got down onto her knees. There was no hope her fighting her way past so many people.

A woman? It was a woman the wholetime? Then that was aura that stopped you stabbing her – and that strength of hers was magic. There was no response and Jaune realised that he was back in control of his own body. He rubbed his jaw, hand coming away bloody, and barely paid attention as the crier announced his victory by disqualification. Surprisingly, the crowd cheered it a good match, perhaps surprised a man could defeat a woman in fair combat with all her advantages. Not that he'd done so fairly at all. Ozma couldn't possibly count as such.

Had he known from the moment they shook hands with her? That was when he raised the prospect of the fight being a challenge, and now Jaune understood why. Aura and Magic; he'd as good as fought a Chosen right there. Or close to one. A real Chosen wouldn't be trying to keep her powers hidden and wouldn't be slowed down by all that armour. No wonder she'd been so twitchy and quick to work her muscles. It would have been the first time someone with aura bothered wearing full plate.

He managed to get out the ring before things got much worse. Qrow slapped his arm with a wild grin, and Qrow's opponent even spared him a pleased nod, the giant's tanned face registering anger. He hoped it wasn't aimed at Qrow, but it looked to be more for the cheating. They both wanted the prize and might have fallen to Sir Goddard – or whatever her name was – in the finals.

Ruby was quick to find him and pull him away and Taiyang came with, carrying some cloth and a paste of crushed herbs mixed with unidentifiable liquid. "Rub this into it," he told the two of them. "Qrow won't let me hear the end of it if I don't watch his fight. With any luck it'll be you and him in the finals but we're not confident. His opponent is a beast of a man."

Jaune let himself be steered back to the tent and then inside, then pushed down onto the cushions as Ruby dabbed the paste into the wound. It hurt enough that he hissed, but it hopefully wasn't anything too deep. They'd have told him to seek a surgeon if it was.

"I can't believe the nobles would be willing to cheat so much they'd put a Chosen in the tournament!" Ruby said. "That has to be illegal. They should arrest whoever did it."

He doubted anyone would own up to it and the woman probably wouldn't rat out her patron, not and forever tarnish her reputation as a mercenary. "I don't think she was Chosen," he said. "Probably just a blade-for-hire who happened to have her aura trained to some level."

"Why not fight in the women's tournament then?"

"Probably because she wasn't good enough. She had the advantage against men. Out there, she'd have lost to Raven and half the other competitors." A decent grasp of aura basically made the woman untouchable against men, but she'd be just another blade against other women. "The prize for the men's tournament is worth more as well. Easier fights and a bigger pay out. Now that I think about it, I'm surprised she was the only one to try and sneak in."

"The Eternity Queen was right there. Maybe they'd try in another kingdom but right in front of her?"

"I guess the Relic of Knowledge is too valuable a prize to give up on."

"Good sir." a voice outside the tent called. "May we enter?"

Jaune shot Ruby a look and she shrugged back. "Um. Sure."

There were two people who came in – thankfully not a noble and his retinue demanding more bribes this time. Instead, it was a man garbed in beige robes with a leather bag at his side, and a man-at-arms from the arena. It was he who cleared his throat. "As an apology for having failed in due diligence of ensuring the rules of the competition were held, the city has agreed to pay the services of a healer for your injury."

"Oh." The tension slid out of him. It was nothing bad. "That's generous of you – uh, the Eternity Queen?"

"The administration of the festival," the man corrected politely. "But since we are all in Her service, it is one and the same. Doctor," he addressed the man respectfully. "I shall leave the rest to you."

The healer nodded and set his bag down, then knelt by Jaune and inspected his jaw. He took the poultice Ruby offered, dabbed a finger in, sniffed and then tasted it. Apparently satisfied, he set it aside and dabbed a cloth into some water and dabbed at the wound. "It is not so deep, and the rot will be cleansed away. I shall stitch it shut for you and you should be more than fine to compete still. Would you like anything for the pain?"

"Will it affect my ability to fight?"

"Alcohol most certainly would. The same for poppy. If you can stomach the pain, it should not be too overwhelming."

Ruby slid out the moment the needle and thread appeared, and Jaune tried hard not to clench his injured jaw as the man went to work. The pluck and stab of the needle, the drawing of twine tight, and the noise of the cheering and roaring outside quickly washed over him.

/-/

Ruby found her dad just as the fight in the arena was reaching its zenith. Qrow was a brave and capable man, but he didn't have the advantage of an immortal spirit with millennia of fighting experience. His opponent was a giant of a man bedecked in plate and he wasn't reckless like the woman who replaced Sir Goddard. He was slow and methodical, wielding his two-handed sword first to shatter through Qrow's shield after repeated blows, and then striking at Qrow's sword until his arm went numb.

The crowd brayed and roared their approval as he slowly worked Qrow down until the man couldn't move. Then he stabbed his giant sword into the dirt and offered the bandit the chance to yield.

Grudgingly, Qrow took it. He didn't have much of a choice.

"At least Jaune's next opponent is the honourable sort." Taiyang said over the noise of the crowd cheering and clapping. They were supporting the man, Sir Yatsuhashi, over everyone else. Ruby wasn't sure if it was because they'd figured out the Branwen were bandits or if it was just because Qrow hadn't pleased anyone with his last non-match against Adam.

"Do you think he can win?"

"If it were just him I'd say no, but we know it's not." Taiyang shrugged. "It's impossible to guess, isn't it? It's not like we really know what he's capable of." He lowered his voice. "How much of the Dark Lord's strength is in his magic? If he can't use that, he's just another man. At least that's what I want to say. It's impossible to know how much one man can learn in the space of a hundred lifetimes."

"Hm." Ruby wasn't sure either. "Who do you think will win the women's final? Raven?"

"No." Taiyang frowned and crossed his arms. "Raven is strong, don't get me wrong, but she's not as strong as your mother was and this opponent of hers fights like Summer. Ex-Chosen, or someone trained by one, I think. Raven is a very tough woman, but this tournament is filled with the best. It's amazing enough she got this far. I think it'll be enough for her, too."

"You think?"

He nodded. "Second place is a decent prize pool in itself and Qrow has come third thanks to Goddard's disqualification. Even if Jaune doesn't win, second and third combined is big money, but if he does? This might make the tribe more than the next ten years of raiding ever could."

"You make it sound like there was never a chance."

"To be honest with you, there wasn't. Look at the people who have entered. Qrow only got as far as he did out the melee because our ally thought he'd have a better chance at the Relic than him."

"Raven made it sound like she was after it."

"To the tribe, sure, but that's just bolstering their spirits and showing a good face. No one – and I mean no one – actually thought we'd have a chance of winning."

Ruby glanced to the tent Jaune was being sutured in. "No one except Jaune."

"Yeah." Taiyang chuckled and rubbed at her hair fondly. Ruby bore it with immense patience. "He took Ray too seriously. She only mentioned the Relic to convince him to join expecting he'd be a convenient member of the shield wall and nothing else. He wasn't meant to do this well." He sighed and let go of her, looking back to the fight as Raven and her opponent faced off for the finals. Yang was already cheering. "Let's hope the price of his help isn't too high. Did Jaune ever tell you what he traded for it?"

"No."

"That doesn't fill me with confidence."

It didn't her either…

/-/

The women's finals were already over by the time Jaune blinked the spots away from his eyes. His jaw ached dully but touching it yielded a bumpy line free from blood. The doctor was just putting away his tools and looked over as Jaune stirred.

"It's done. You will need someone to remove the sutures once you are healed. Clean it well and do not let the area become infected. The wound is low enough on your jaw that talking and eating should not stress them or you." He closed his bag and stood. "It could have been much worse."

"I guess so." Jaune rubbed his chin and realised that the Dark Lord could have prevented this with just a little aura. He hadn't, however, sticking to the terms of their agreement. While he was pleased about that, a childish part of him would have liked to do away with the experience.

Better a little pain than being discovered, however.

Just one more match and he could be free of Vale and away from the Eternity Queen. Then there won't be any risks at all. Just one last fight, win or lose, and he'd leave with the Branwen tribe, then depart from them with Ruby and Taiyang. Unless the Dark Lord chose to reveal him in the finals.

"And have every Chosen in the city come down on our heads? I think not."

Jaune laughed, and the doctor thought it directed at him. The man nodded once, flipped the tent flap open and departed. Worried or not, Ozma hadn't broken his word yet and there just wasn't any good reason to with so many people watching. Tugging his armour back on, he shucked on his borrowed chainmail coat and ran a finger over a new shield – Taiyang's – loaned to him for the final bout. Hopefully, he'd be able to return it in one piece, though given the size of his opponent…

"Size and strength are convenient in war." Ozma said. "They grant you an inherent advantage that many find difficult to overcome."

"Isn't being fast good as well?"

"Speed is prized in a duellist but not a soldier. When you can move only as fast as your battle line, the ability to give and take blows unflinching is preferred. That is why aura is the ultimate weapon. The unflinching force of the soul."

"You mean magic. The Goddess' for women and yours for men."

"As you say…"

"None here," Jaune repeated. "No magic and no aura."

Ozma didn't respond. It was all he was going to get, and if he hadn't used it against Goddard's replacement then he wasn't going to use it here. Jaune strode back out the tent in time to see Raven limping out the ring. Though she looked to be in some pain, she wore a manic smile. The reason was obvious, for two men in the livery of the Kingdom's forces followed after her carrying between them a wooden chest. It looked heavy and jingled with the sounds of coin inside. Since the main prize of the men's tournament was the Relic – and it being invaluable – the women's side had a larger prize pool to split between competitors.

She saw him as he came out, laughed uncharacteristically and waved him over. Up close he could see the nasty gash in her leg and dirt, sweat and blood caking her hands. Raven had never been friendly, but she flung an arm around his shoulders, yanked him close and burst out laughing.

"Your turn, champion! Best be on your toes. He's built like a castle."

"Any advice?"

"Little." Though she tried to sound apologetic, she couldn't quite hide her grin. "In war, my advice is to avoid a knight and take them six on one if you have no choice. Here? Well, aim for the head if you can reach it. No matter the padding he wears, rattling someone's skull around in a full-plate helm will put them down. Don't take a loss personally," she added and laughed again. "You getting to the finals is prize enough."

"Will the White Fang feel that way? They'll be pissed if I lose."

"We'll be disappointed – not unreasonably angry."

Jaune turned, surprised to find Adam and his partner, Blake, pushing their way forward. Blake's left shoulder and arm were wrapped up in linen. He hadn't seen her fight, but she had fallen out the round just before Yang had according to Ruby. Sienna had gone further, but she and Raven had been separated late on and the faunus fell to the same woman who just won the whole thing. Adam, of course, looked fine. He'd thrown his match.

"We're obviously hoping you'll be able to win this and grant us our question to the Relic, but expecting it is a bit much. How many people here did the same and formed alliances? Just because we're hoping it'll work doesn't mean it will."

"Our agreement was to buy a question from the Branwen tribe as well." Blake said. "If you lose, we simply don't give you the gold. We won't lose anything."

"Fair is fair." Raven said. "I won't expect anything for not delivering on what I offer. The Branwen tribe has its own honour."

No pressure, then? He was a little surprised about that. The White Fang wouldn't abide him forfeiting though, but then he didn't intend to anyway, so it wasn't a problem. "I'll do my best," he promised them. "I'm hoping I can take advantage of his lack of speed. We'll have to see."

"Good luck." Blake said.

"Aye." Adam agreed and slapped his shoulder. "Good luck. We'll all share a drink after – win or lose. It doesn't hurt to have local groups friendly to us if we ever swing on by again." He eyed Raven. "At the very least we enjoy not being attacked."

"As if I'd waste my people raiding a travelling military group. But fine. We haven't been to Mistral in a while. I'd be interested in hearing what pickings there are. Come find us after. We'll talk."

Raven waved the men-at-arms to put the chest of money down, completely unbothered that they were alluding to banditry right in front of law enforcement. The men-at-arms didn't seem to care however, or they'd been told to ignore everything about it for the festival. They set the chest down and left. Yang was quick to rush over, unlatch and open it up. The gold light played over her hands as she ran her fingers through a deep trough of coin.

"Enough of that, child of mine!" Raven snapped, though again without much malice. "I won't have you stealing what I bled for."

"You're my mother. What's yours is mine."

"Not until I croak, it isn't, and only then if you're strong enough to claim it. Look at you, not even making it as far as the new blood here."

"Uncle Qrow didn't make it as far as him." Yang eyed Jaune and said, "You holding back on me at the camp or what? I know for a fact you weren't this good. What is it? Performance-enhancing medicines? You a manly-looking woman under that all along like the other one?"

"Ahh." Jaune laughed and shied away from her. "No. No. I just learned a lot from you, Yang. Maybe it's because my dad was a mercenary captain. It must be in my blood."

"Blood don't teach you to fight like that. We're sparring when we're back at camp. You and me – serious fight to first blood. And I ain't taking no for an answer!" she yelled to be heard over the horn summoning him to the ring.

"Enough of that." Raven gave him a solid push as she released his shoulder. "Go and fight. Try your hardest – focus his head – and you might yet walk away with the Relic. That'll make your next step easy, won't it? Still, the gold will do the same if you lose. Win-win from your point of view. Mine too," she added. "So, have fun."

"And try not to get cleaved in half!" Yang called.

Okay, kinda surprised I got this much done like I am. Well, there isn't much else for me to do so maybe that helped. Ordered food delivery to be left at door tonight as I'm just not in any state to cook for myself. Bwah.

Next Chapter: 17th July

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