The banner's true name wasn't evoked, but even then, a weakened version of its effects still deployed.
A radiant glow encapsulated all within the battlefield, coaxing from within the magics of a distant past. Power welled within the body, flooding through the arid banks of dried channels, rivers, and streams that once formed a network of magic pathways.
Roaring winds and the soft warmth of the light that enveloped the area gave way to a tumultuous string of varying phenomena.
Blake could hear the hammering of her heart, her Aura flaring from the gentle flickering of a candle, to the raging storm of a tempest. Behind her, figures began to rise from her shadow, forming into solid doubles of herself that flickered with the light of intelligence, all staring at each other in morbid fascination. Their movements weren't simultaneous, or in tandem, but fully autonomous.
Next to Blake, was a veritable inferno.
Yellow strands of hair drifted in the breeze before each individual strand shifted into a fiery red like fire crawling up a fuse. Yang was fully encapsulated in fire, embers drifting around the blaze. Her eyes were a different story, dilated pupils flaring with a unique energy that crackled with lightning and power.
A look of apprehension crossed Yang's face, but no one really noticed in favour of marveling over the changes surrounding them.
Rocks and minerals swirled in a storm around Pyrrha, the warbled noise of warping metal repelling or attracting each other creating a deafening cacophony of noise. On closer glance, Pyrrha's features were flushed; a direct result of no longer being able to contain the passive state of her Semblance and practically revealing it to all after years of concealing it.
Across from Pyrrha, Ector was a different story.
The area around Ector seemed to shrink and crater as if some giant had decided to press all its weight upon a single point, compacting everything underfoot. As time passed, the crater was only growing larger and larger, pieces of debris that fell in, either rising as if weightless or grinding into powder. In truth, the description was ample.
Pyrrha knew that Ector's Semblance was density manipulation. He could freely control the weight and durability of his weapons and his own body by increasing or decreasing their density. It was part of the reason he was so formidable in the arena. Wearing armour was the same as wearing a straitjacket.
It wasn't until a massive glyph appeared beneath Ector's feet that he stopped sinking from his Semblance compacting the ground in which he stood.
Snow flakes seemed to dance around Weiss as she marvelled at the ease of which her Semblance manifested. It hardly took anything from her reserves at all. From all around, spectral figures took their posts on her command, spinning dials and platforms freely giving her battlefield advantage.
A subtle feeling had expanded across everyone; something that was difficult to describe, yet yearned for all the same.
"Attack!"
The hope of victory.
Jaune pointed forward, his family sword in one hand, and the Saint's banner in the other.
"Nora Smash!"
Thunder resounded from up high as an orange blur overtook everyone, electricity crackling from the flat end of a war hammer that struck horizontally on the face of an Ursa. The skull cracked and caved in while tendrils of flowing chain lightning jumped from Grimm to Grimm. Spasming, a whole section of the Grimm's encirclement was cleared all at once, Nora beaming like a child high on caffeine.
The others were quick to follow.
Emerald and Neo glanced at each other, but said nothing as they hung back. They could help, but Emerald's Semblance was for more subtle uses, and Neo was unwilling to divulge her trump card. Therefore, they just absently fired their weapons at stragglers trying to make an escape.
Vernal was much the same as Neo and Emerald, choosing to simultaneously narrow her eyes on Jaune, noting the mission to observe the saint's banner in Jaune's hands. She wet her lips, wondering what the odds were of stealing it for the tribe? She shook her head, knowing that she couldn't be too obvious about it.
Focusing back on the battle, Yang snapped out of her daze and followed Nora's example, jumping right into the fray. The flames that surrounded her weren't just for show. The moment they touched the Grimm, the heat would blister and blacken skin and bone. Yang also noticed that if she concentrated after releasing a punch, she could will the flames into a projectile that detonated on impact. She…she could get used to this.
Further from Yang, Blake could only say that she was feeling surreal.
"I'll handle this end."
"I'll defend our backs."
"We'll keep a look out of anything around us."
"R-Right," Blake felt like she'd slurred her words while being surrounded by her own doubles surrounding her. She was literally talking to herself.
Shaking her head, Blake rappelled around using Gambol Shroud's chain while she and her solid doubles began keeping a perimeter around Jaune, knowing that if he went down, everyone would too.
Blake wasn't the only sensible one to come to this conclusion, as she was joined by Ren and Vernal while the others dealt with both the crowd of the Grimm, and even the giant Grimm.
"Weiss, glyphs!" Ruby yelled, her form nothing but a blur of passing rose petals, and the glint of her scythe's steel carving up all Grimm that drew near.
Irked as Weiss might have felt at being ordered around, she understood what Ruby was asking of her and pointed her rapier forward. Instantly, numerous platforms that created a stairway to the Nevermore appeared.
"Thanks!"
"Hmph."
Watching the swirl of petals climb up the stairs and utterly surround the giant Nevermore, Ruby appeared straddling the Nevermore's back, Crescent Rose in its compact sniper form. Pulling the trigger, numerous high calibre rounds were off loaded directly into the Nevermore's head, causing it to screech and dive.
Thinking quickly about the memory of her future diary, Ruby mecha-shifted Crescent Rose back into a scythe and angled its curve around the Nevermore's neck.
Breathing deeply, Ruby's Semblance flared as she began to run, each revolution around the Nevermore's neck digging deeper and deeper into flesh until decapitation.
Instantly, the Nevermore began fading away into motes of black light as Ruby crashed into a glyph Weiss had made to catch her fall.
Meanwhile, Pyrrha nodded at Ector before Ector was suddenly jolted by his armour high into the air before Pyrrha released her Semblance.
Directly beneath Ector was the Giant Death stalker whose armour was making it difficult for Nora and the others to kill it. Yang might have been able to slowly cook it alive, but she was too preoccupied helping Nora with crowd control.
This left Pyrrha and Ector to take action.
Wordlessly, Ector channeled his own Semblance, increasing his body's density and weight until he was no different from a falling missile, the tip of his spear aimed downward at his descent.
Stabbing out, the impact of Ector's fall directly bore through the Deathstalker's hide, punching a wide hole that pinned the Grimm in place and killed it. Dissolving into black motes, Ector patted off his armour and clothes before walking out.
All around, the Grimm that had once surrounded everyone were being decimated or retreating.
The entire situation had reversed itself in an instant, and everyone understood just whose presence had made such a dire situation so trivial.
Pyrrha's attention turned towards the one at the center of this all as everyone finished up on their ends.
Jaune stabbed the final Beowulf with his sword, using what little training his father and sisters had imparted him to complete the kill. Right now, the image he was giving off was a far cry from how he acted outside of combat.
Bathed in the passive light of the saint's banner, his and everyone's injuries were gradually healed.
So, this was the real version of one of the Heroes of Mt. Glenn.
The Holy Knight of Vale.
"Uhm, guys?" Jaune tentatively broke the silence, hard pressed to admit that he was feeling pressured under all the attention. "How about we get these relics and get out of here?"
Overlooking Beacon's initiation atop the cliff, several sighs of admiration and intrigue could be heard. It was one thing to hear and see the effects of a magic relic on television, but it was another thing to see it in person. Immediately, everyone was practically in fervent discussion. Be that as it may, none of the crowd's chatter could over power the voice of just one.
"Did you see them? Those are my girls!"
A voice pestered Archer to no end.
"Yes, Summer. I know," Archer sighed, but nothing was working.
There was nothing to stop how proud Summer was feeling in this moment. Having chosen to remain in Beacon as on of Ozpin's agents, she primarily stayed in the academy in apprehension of Tai discovering her. In any case, the daughters she'd always watched over had finally grown into themselves, and Summer couldn't be anymore elated.
"Look at them! Aren't they beautiful?!"
Archer slumped his shoulders, knowing that Summer wasn't going to stop anytime soon. She was much like Ruby when she gushed about her newest Valve comics. However, it wasn't as if Summer's actions weren't without merit.
Ozpin had no way to butt into the conversation or redirect it into anything else that wasn't praising Yang and Ruby's growth. Moms could sometimes be unreasonable like that, and well, Archer knew it was best to keep Ozpin intrigued.
From the moment Archer had made his appearance in Beacon, it was no secret that Ozpin was hinting for a private meeting, but Archer had continued to put it off.
"Tomorrow," Archer mouthed to Ozpin who grudgingly conceded.
The day was already getting late, and after initiation was over, Ozpin and Glynda would have to finalize the First-Year teams. This of course of meant that there was another ceremony Ozpin had to host for the passing students who were already on their way back. There would be no real time for any in-depth conversations, and Archer had the feeling that Ozpin would try to keep pressing him for information for as long as he could.
Therefore, it was better to set a time for later.
Moments later, Ruby and the others returned to the cliff where everyone was waiting, Summer making herself scarce as she was traumatized by how she'd tried to hurt her own daughter.
Archer shook his head at Summer's action, knowing that none of it was her fault, but emotions weren't exactly rational. No matter how he tried to get her to absolve herself of blame, she still distanced herself from those she cared for.
In the end, Archer could only hope that Summer would be able to overcome her mental demons and muster the courage to face her loved ones again.
Gathering all the passing students back into Beacon's main hall, Ozpin stood on the podium with Glynda beside him to announce the results.
Partners in initiation were dependent on eye contact, but teams were based on the relics picked from the Emerald Forest.
Jaune, Nora, Yang, and Blake were in a team, having picked the castle pieces at Nora's prompting, followed by Ren, Vernal, Emerald, and Ector in another. Ruby herself was paired with Weiss, Neo, and Pyrrha.
Each team had designated names and specific leaders.
Jaune was the leader of team BAYN (Bane).
Emerald for team SEVR (Sever).
And Ruby for team PRWN (Prune).
The team formations weren't anything major, but Archer could clearly see discontent on a few faces, primarily Weiss whose features were distraught at neither her or Pyrrha being made leader. All the while, Ruby looked like a deer caught in the headlights.
As for Jaune, no one really had any complaints with him, and none were made for team SEVR either, mostly because no one really cared.
And so, the day would pass into the next.
The class hosted by Archer from the Rose Mercenaries was one of the most anticipated if not the most anticipated class throughout Beacon's history of guest lecturers.
It was officially designated as a First-Year elective course, but even the senior years were vying for the limited classroom auditorium space.
Walking into the classroom, Archer took note of everyone pushing to get into any vacant seats. Some of the students had even opted to remain standing or sat on the ground near the lecturer's podium.
"Archer! Over here, look here!" Yang waved enthusiastically while Blake merely gave a nod of recognition.
Ruby didn't dare call out to Archer, too insecure about her social anxiety and more preoccupied with Weiss glaring at her.
Team dynamics as of present were not the most harmonious to say the least.
Yang, Ruby, and the others were all seated close to each other.
However, the seat next to Jaune was highly contested to the point where Glynda ended up levitating Jaune in the air so that no one would sit next to him. It was a special privilege that Jaune could not have felt anymore dread over. His social awkwardness was just as bad as Ruby's, and Glynda was practically keeping him in the spotlight, granted it averted potential trouble at Jaune's expense.
Archer waved back at Yang who finally sat down, but don't get her wrong. Archer could tell from the look on Yang's face that she was going to try to stick with him even after the lecture finished.
Over Archer's shoulder was a large duffle bag that he'd brought. It was supposedly carrying an assortment of magic artifacts he'd be using for the day's lecture.
Archer's elective course was titled as, Magic Artifact History, and the name itself was cause for excitement.
The term 'Magic Artifact' had become popularized after the televised events of Mt. Glenn.
Further hypothesis that the Sun in Vermillion was also the work of a magic artifact only heightened the craze. More than anything however, was that it was believed that the Huntsman of Red may be directly tied to them.
Lisa Lavender had noted that wherever a magic artifact appeared, the Huntsman of Red would be there. After the injury that many saw the famed Huntsman sustain in Mt. Glenn, concern for his well being was only natural. If magic artifacts could help them come in contact with the Huntsman of Red, then that was motive enough to possess them.
Shaking his head, Archer placed his duffle bag down and reaffirmed his goals for teaching this glass to begin with.
Good. It's as expected.
Archer glanced up to the back of the room where Ozpin sat in attendance, a mug of coffee held in his hands.
It was no surprise that Ozpin was here. Not only did Ozpin likely plan to catch him for a private talk after the lesson, but if anyone was as curious about the existence of magic artifacts, it was no one else but Beacon's Head Master.
"Alright, settle down," Archer clapped his hands, the noise loud enough to overpower all chatter. Likely due to his reputation, it wasn't long before he had everyone's attention.
"What I'm going to explain is something that may be hard to believe, but is actually true in some regard."
Leaning his hands on the speaker's podium, Archer stared into everyone eyes and let a long breath.
"Before Dust, there was magic that existed in Remnant. The Semblances many of you have unlocked and may take for granted are but a fraction of what they truly could have been. The name Semblance itself, denotes the possibility of what's left compared to a whole."
What Archer was sharing were inferences that he'd either made himself, or had learned to know from the conversation he'd had with the Queen of Grimm, Salem.
Reactions were varied, the majority not taking the words to heart, but Ozpin was different, a glint appeared in his eyes.
Ozpin certainly knew the truth in the words Archer spoke, but centuries of concealing magic had all but made it a myth to many until recently. Then again, with magic no longer ambient in the air and trapped into Remnant's Ley lines through the punishment of the brother Gods, it may as well have been forgotten.
Noble Phantasms however were different in that their power was born from crystalized legends. The more renowned a weapon, the stronger it became. Alternatively, the weapons themselves could act as stores of magic for those who could utilize mana and Aura.
No one on Remnant understood what a Noble Phantasm was, so in the end, they arbitrarily called them magic artifacts.
"The existence of magic matters as it ties directly into the nature of magic artifacts whose magic is actualized through their legend. A question to you all, in history or in writing, who are the people most remembered?"
"Heroes!" Ruby bubbled out, before realizing she was in a public space and instantly tucking her neck into her shoulders.
"Indeed." Archer nodded, a small smile curving his lips upward. "What we all call magic artifacts, are in fact, the weapons of ancient heroes left buried in ruins or forgotten in Remnant's dark lands."
Ozpin remained unphased, a slightly raised brow denoting only a fervent curiosity at best. He'd likely not bought into Archer's words at all.
Of course, Archer had expected someone who lived as long as Ozpin to have his doubts and skepticism about magic artifacts or famed heroes he'd never heard of in his lifetime, but that was only natural. The magic artifacts he intended to show may not even by part of Remnant's history.
To be able to convince Ozpin of the Authenticity of magic artifacts and the stories behind them, Archer would either have to shock Ozpin, or insist that there were tales of warriors and heroes older than Ozpin himself.
Archer planned to do both.
It was with this mentality that Archer reached out for the duffle bag he'd brought, unzipped it, and pulled out the first Noble Phantasm he'd Traced before hand.
"Aestus Estus," the Latin sword of passion and fire belonging to Emperor Nero.
Tongues of fire hung around the blade's curved edges, and the distinct red hue around the sword spoke of its fiery intensity.
Ozpin scrutinized Aestus Estus immediately, but the sword's design, shape, and name did not ring any bell.
However, the clear takeaway from the sword was the feeling of regality it gave. It was the sword of an Emperor of one of humanity's most pivotal empires.
"This is the sword of a hero who loved her people more than anything." Archer gripped onto Aestus Estus's hilt and watched as the entire sword erupted into crimson fire. "Even now, its flames and shape burn with the intensity of its people's adoration. Nothing, not even Aura would be able to ward its edge for long."
Letting everyone view the sword, Archer noted Vernal leaning forward all too eagerly. Such a weapon was invaluable to someone who grew up as a bandit and knew the importance of a good weapon.
In any case, Archer's target was Ozpin, but he'd yet to take the bait.
The clear expression of unfamiliarity Ozpin was displaying meant he didn't know of the legend Archer was speaking of. This would inevitably lead Ozpin to believe that Archer was either making the story up, or that such a hero did exist but was out of his knowledge.
Knowing how long Ozpin had lived for, any person of renown enough to be a legend would never be missed by him. Therefore, the only other conclusion he could come to was the one Archer wanted of him.
These heroes and legends existed before even Ozpin was born.
Frankly, Ozpin leaned more towards Archer making everything up, and that was why Archer needed the surprise factor that would foster a sense of authenticity.
Turning back to the large duffel bag he'd brought in and set down, Archer put away Aestus Estus, and then once more rummaged for another magic artifact.
Grasping onto a sturdy hilt, Archer pulled out the next weapon.
-!?
Almost immediately, the sound of a chair clattering over the ground echoed in the suddenly silent classroom, but no one really paid it any mind with their eyes transfixed forward.
In Archer's hands was a blade emitting faint green wisps snaking around the edge of the steel. The fuller of the sword was forged rather deep, making the overall length of the sword more concave than flat-sided. These concave depressions were slotted with gems that thrummed with what both Archer and Ozpin knew to be mana.
"This is the sword of the ancient Hero, Ozma." Archer introduced. "This particular blade was one forged many many years ago. Aura can naturally transmit through the metal, sharpening the edge and increasing its durability, but this isn't its most unique aspect-"
Archer paused abruptly, noting that Ozpin was now standing on his feet.
If that wasn't the light of recognition and terrible nostalgia shining in Ozpin's eyes, then Archer didn't know what was.
"Is something wrong, Headmaster?" Archer played ignorant, Ozpin having no way to even tell.
"…Might I examine the sword?" Ozpin inquired.
Only Archer noticed the longing in Ozpin's tone.
Still, the question was just so out of right field that it took a couple of people aback. Ozpin hadn't had such a visible reaction prior, and as such, Yang was the first to grow suspicious, staring at Ozpin like she'd seen that expression on his face somewhere before...!
Yang grew indignant, her features widened in realization before she blurted out her true thoughts without much consideration.
"Don't give it to him!" Yang yelled, pushing up from her seat, hands smacking over her desk.
Many eyes turned to Yang's direction, not the least of which was Ruby who kept trying to pull Yang back down onto her seat. Ruby couldn't bear being at the center of attention in a crowd. Unfortunately, she was constantly failing to reel Yang.
Ozpin blinked at Yang, almost discontented at her vehemency.
What was the problem in just 'borrowing' the sword to inspect for a moment?
Surely, Ozpin's respect as Headmaster of Beacon could allow him something so trivial?
"Ms. Xiaolong-"
"He has the eyes of a thief!"
Ozpin choked.
"A-A bold accusation. And unfounded." Ozpin coughed somewhat guiltily. "Where is your proof, your evidence?"
"My partner!"
Yang pointed beside her with conviction.
Blake who was minding her own business, suddenly bugged out; her face lifting from the notes that she was furiously jotting down about Archer's Magic artifact class. "Excuse me?"
Yang didn't bother responding and directly jabbed her finger at Blake's cheek.
"Look at her eyes, then look at Ozpin's!"
In the stunned silence, Blake and Ozpin make eye contact.
Blake grudgingly noticed 'the look,' Yang was referring to and realized that there was merit in Yang's observation.
"They're the same!"
"Fuck off Yang."
Blake hid her face in her notes, ears reddening from embarrassment.
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