ITS ALIIIIIIVE!

So, yea, Real Lifes go real hands, and we're all sorry for the delay. Between having to re-work how we handle the editorial process for more plot-rich end-of-major-arc scenarios like where the story is right now, and personal stuff, this one took a LOT longer than usual, and for that, we apologize. Seriously, one six-bullet-points in the outline scene sprouted into four, two of which had to get pushed back to later chapters, one of which is, on it's own, regular-chapter sized. And another big scene that had to get pushed back. That said, the next few chapters have a lot of work already done for them thanks to that, so things should hopefully be going back to normal now.

I don't own RWBY or Highschool DxD, and don't earn anything aside from a sense of satisfaction from doing this. Please don't sue me! (Or lynch me, hopefully still-loyal readers, heh.)


"My dad was good too. Owned a little Dust shop of his own... till your father's company ran him out of business." Flynt Coal, the leader of Team FNKI–Pronounced Funky–asserts critically, shooting 'The Heiress' as he had called her, a hostile scowl.

Opening with a ploy of almost sycophantic admiration to stroke Weiss' ego, putting on an amiable air to get her to open up before going straight for the kill. An interesting enough tactic, and one that very well might have worked…

Once.

"My father… who started dyeing his hair white, and took my mother's name after they were married?" Weiss shoots back in a simperingly sweet, airy falsetto that's a perfect counter to the mockingly sarcastic cadence of false admiration Coal had leveled at her moments prior. "Who's every action has been focussed on making my grandfather's company his company since he took its reins? That father?"

Coal pauses, clearly having not expected this, glancing over to his equally caught out partner. Neon Katt shrugs, the tattooed girl being as surprised as he is, and clearly unsure how to proceed. Coal's gaze returns to Weiss, expression barely changed, maybe showing a touch of surprise for a moment, but not not very much. "That's the one."

Weiss flourishes Myrtenaster, before falling into a ready stance, her weapons tip angled towards her opponent. "Do you imagine that same notoriously image-obsessed, controlling, father appreciates me having chosen to pursue becoming a Huntress? Away from the Academy where he could have my grades and team fixed to his liking with an afternoon's worth of Scroll calls and private talks?"

Bold. If the international broadcast picked up what Weiss had just said, it most certainly will come back to bite her.

Both Coal and his partner are standing stock still and staring at the Heiress now.

Though the looks on their faces are nothing like Weiss' teammate's. Xiao Long is frozen halfway into cracking her knuckles, gape-faced and clearly stupefied at Weiss having so brazenly besmirched her notoriously image-obsessed and controlling father in such a public manner. Were audio to be broadcast internationally, Weiss will come to regret that.

Coal is the first to regain his bearings and find his words. Now sporting a smirk of his own he eyes Weiss up and down once more before replying, "Gutsy move, Schnee, talking smack 'bout the hand that feeds you like that." His tone level and measuring.

"It was. Recent events have left me… independently wealthy, however." Weiss counters, pure confidence in her tone and posture. "That man's shortcomings are an open secret back home, and once a better option presents itself… Like you said, I am the Heiress. I will undo the damage that man has done to my Grandfather's legacy and I will put a stop to the reprehensible practices that he turned Schnee Dust Company to on the altar of profit. Even should he strip me of my inheritance and cast me from the family, I will prove that I am more than just a name." She points the tip of Myrtenaster directly at Coal's chest as she affirms her declaration.

The camera shifts so that everyone looking at the screens above, or watching the broadcast at home are staring directly down Weiss Schnee's blade.

For a beat, silence once again hangs over the arena. Again, Coal is the one to break it, smirk widening as he does so. "Big talk. I dig it." Coal then falls into a ready stance himself. "Care to put all that money you've got where your mouth is?"

Weiss harrumphs, a challenging smirk of her own crossing her face, eyes remaining locked defiantly with his, not backing down an inch, keeping her sword–and body–in a firm and aggressive ready stance.

How suitably dramatic.

Her time with the Hero Faction had served her well, Arthur Pendragon, scion of the house of Pendragon muses. Their spars have had no shortage of taunts and less-than-playful ribbing on most days. The girl had been the target of far more caustic taunts from members of their group during those training sessions than anything Coal had slung at her. She had even managed to move on from offended indignation and awkward japes to properly acerbic and cutting replies with moderate frequency.

"What?" Xiao Long quips, grinning as she lazily waves a gauntleted hand at the ginger cat Faunus. "You aren't gonna try to get under my skin too?"

"Who, me?" Katt asks, grinning as innocently as she can manage as she shrugs, then starts skating back and forth. "Nah, I might have been considering mimicking you at first, but after Weissy laid down the law like that? I'd never resort to something so childish!" She slowly blinks at Xiao Long in what is likely meant to be an endearing manner.

Xiao Long raises an eyebrow, and nods. "Uh-huh. Suuuuure."

"I also may have thought your hair had extensions, but that would imply you care about how your hair looks and you clearly don't." Katt rambles back at the blonde, still lazy skating back and forth, barely even looking at the Beacon students.

"I. See…" Xiao Long replies, her tone flat and dead, eye twitching violently. Weiss coughs politely into her off-hand, poorly hiding a laugh at her teammate's expense.

"And I'm not the sort of petty bitch that would imply that that outfit might make you look fat on an international broadcast. Maybe a bit 'top heavy' but with all the exotic babes I've seen around Vale for the Festival, 'flirty blonde' is kind-of plain, don't ya think? Not trying to make you feel inadequate, just stating facts. No need for you to keep overcompensating, just admit you're another normal girl." Katt's grin is friendly enough, but it doesn't quite reach her eyes.

Ruby's sister goes completely still. Weiss turns her head to look directly at her teammate; eyebrow raised and slowly leaning away from her. Clearly waiting for the blonde to fly into a fit of rage.

Xiao Long takes in a deep breath, then exhales just as slowly.

Her eyes boring into Katt's, the smaller girls ploy to taunt her, to goad her into making mistakes during the match having clearly fallen short. The ginger girl just fakes a giggle and waves back, not indicating whether or not she intends to keep trying during the match with her words or body language.

"Geee, well, just so long as you aren't trying to piss me off… I guess I can let all that slide." The blonde shoots back, tone strained with a dangerous, crooked grin splitting her face. She audibly cracks her knuckles with slow, mechanical precision before deploying her gauntlets.

Still grinning, either ignorant of the danger she is in or confident in her ability to best Xiao Long, Katt blows a kiss at the blonde.

Port starts slowly counting down the match as the arena randomizers start spinning. Weiss and Xiao Long share a quick, measuring look before they turn back to their respective opponents.

Still in her ready stance, Weiss raises her sword-arm a bit further and tilts her hand so that her blade's tip is pointed at Coal's head instead of his chest. Xiao Long shifts from a traditional, broad boxers stance so that she is more sharply angled towards the Faunus girl, and raises up onto the balls of her feet.

Time feels like it has slowed to a crawl as the heavyset professor's countdown nears 'one'; and like it had frozen when he lets the word pass his lips.

Weiss spins her blade's revolver in the gap, and lets a smirk cross her face, eyes locked on Coal's trumpet. There are a few ways she could counter what is so obviously a sonic weapon. Port bellows for the matches start, Coal drops to his knees and visible, sustained soundwaves tear from the bell of his trumpet as he begins–literally–wailing on it in the same moment that a cyclone of wind swirls forth from Myrtenaster's tip.

Katt darts forward, then shifts to a wide arc to the right when the two area-of-effect attacks meet and cancel each other out. She angle's towards the heiress once she reaches the Valean team's flank, only for Xiao Long to step into her lunging punch, catching it on her left gauntlet before pivoting and throwing the shorter, more slender girl away from her teammate. She steps in to follow up, but is barely able to tag Katt. The Faunus turning what could have been a tumble into a swift retreat.

With a growl, Xiao Long launches herself after the grinning Faunus with a lunge and a rearward shot from Ember Celica. Katt lets out a startled yelp, and once again twirls away from the brawler. Once more turning what would have been a solid hit into a graze. Katt's second step after the mostly successful evasion is a bit wobbly, but the third has her darting away from both of the Beacon students and into the ruins opposite the half of the arena she'd started on, grinning the whole way.

"Ya know, considering where all your weight is, you can move pretty good. Really good, even!" Katt chirps as she flees, sounding more like a girl praising a dog for learning a new trick than someone talking to another person.

Across the Arena, Weiss has shifted the sword-salute she'd started the match into a proper stance, her body a straight line behind Myertenaster's tip, her targe held low and ready behind her. That Coal is able to keep up his auditory barrage as the Heiress advances on him is an impressive display of circular breathing, especially at the tone and volume he had chosen to open the match with, but it isn't enough to force Weiss to cease her advance until she is a barely a few feet away from him.

With so much of his face obscured by his hands and horn, it's hard to make heads or tails of Coal's expression. Weiss' smirk is plain as day when she twitches her shield to collapse, pivots the arm at the elbow to hold it across her stomach and level the barrels of the shield's inbuilt machine-pistols at the taller teen however.

She flexes her fist, and a deluge of bullets zip through her whirlwind, then tear through the cone of Coal's ongoing attack to skitter across his Aura. He shifts his left hand off of the horn to plant it on the ground, pivots on it then rolls to the side and away from Weiss' attacks. Rising to his feet with a sneer and a nod, he eyes her up and down before quipping "Not bad, but let's see if you can..." Coal trails off at the ring of white Glyphs that had formed around the two of them.

As Weiss blurs into one of her preferred attacks, Xiao Long is standing just as tall, proud and unaffected as her teammate's opponent. Though, unlike him, she is managing to respond to most of Katt's darting, lunging attacks with counter-punches, shotgun-blast enhanced elbows and the occasional kick. It speaks volumes to Katt's speed that not quite all of the blonde brawler's quick strikes manage to connect with her. It's fairly clear that Xiao Long has had at least a few sparring partners that prefer speed to power.

"Not bad, not bad. I figured a straightforward girl like you'd be the type to waste all your energy chasing me around. Guess you're not much of a straight-shooter after all." Katt quips, voice holding to the same tempo she's been muttering under her breath since the matches onset. "I wonder what else you're hiding~." She tacks on, idly spinning one of her nunchaku, circling the other girl, clearly choosing her next avenue of attack.

Xiao Long goes still again, eyes narrowing into slits as they shift to red. Apparently, Katt managed to strike a sore spot with that barb.

"Oooh, hit a nerve?" Katt coos, flipping one of her nunchaku idly in her hand and going into a showy little pirouette her mischievous grin still firmly in place, "Lemme see if I can hit a few more!" A moment later, Xiao Long's eyes bolt open, and Katt darts towards where Weiss is resetting for another flurry of attacks.

Eight is her current limit, of actual strikes with Myrtenaster before Weiss is simply hurling herself at her target, and more likely to slap them with the flat of her blade or bodily collide with them than cut or stab them. Coal is glowering at her as another set of Glyphs spring to life around him, and Weiss launches herself again. Eight swift slashes later, each drawing bright lines of aura that fade nearly as soon as they form, followed by Coal barely stumbling a full step with each impact, and nearly a tenth of his Aura more drained away.

Weiss skids to a halt, fixing her stance almost as soon as the dust kicks up by her feet drifts deeper into the faux lava field. Coal shifts, turning with the momentum he'd gained from her last strike, and plays. Weiss bites out a curse, and the array of Glyphs she'd set up for another attack are wasted on a dodge.

It isn't as smooth as Ruby's PetalBurst, or as instantaneous as Belladonna's Semblance.

That it forces her into a perfect circle around Coal is even less ideal, but it's enough to keep her ahead of the cone of sonic force, and the plume of cinders, dirt and stone it kicks up as it impacts the arena floor.

Xiao Long again launches herself forward with her shot-gauntlets, cutting off Katt's attempt to intercept Weiss when she returns to the start-point of her dodge with a gut-punch. "Sorry, kitty cat, it's just you and me now."

The Faunus turns her wheezing stumble into smooth, gliding steps on her skates after two steps, then sticks her tongue out at Xiao Long. She reaches behind her back and pulls a set of nunchaku that look suspiciously like a pair of glowsticks free of the belt-clip they'd been resting on.

She cracks them, and one lights up pale blue and the other a vibrant, jittering yellow. Katt darts towards the taller girl again, spinning her weapon, and tagging the blonde's shoulder with the yellow half, and Xiao Long's arm seizes up halfway through her counter-blow.

Katt ducks low under the twitching limb and cracks the other half of her weapon across Xiao Long's lead-legs shin, icing it over and buying herself enough time to dart away from the brawler.

Katt takes this opportunity to throw in a quip, "Y'know, with a face as scary as that, you probably have a pretty hard time not scaring guys off." She pauses, and puts on an obviously fake 'thinking' expression. "Oh, that's why you're wearing an outfit that makes you look so easy!" Another 'innocent' observation that's an obvious shot aimed at Xiao Long's vanity.

Xiao Long lets out a frustrated growl, and stomps her frozen-over foot to free it as she launches a trio of shots in front of the Faunus, once again preventing her from helping her teammate out.

Across the arena, Coal is still stoically waiting for Weiss' next onslaught. Sneering, he turns with the Heiress' lead strike as it connects. His body splits into four near-identical clones with as many steps, standing back to back and moving in perfect synchronicity.

Each of them raise their trumpet to their lips and lets loose another wailing blast of sound. One of them tags Weiss and sends her stumbling, her field of Glyphs flickering out, concentration broken.

Port bellows something about 'Killer Quartet' into the microphone; hmm, likely Coal's Semblance name. How droll.

He and Le Fay will have to endeavor to name their Semblances suitably lest someone pick one for them.

Xiao Long and Katt exchange another rapid-fire series of blows, capped off by Katt once again trying to break off to aid her teammate only for Xiao Long to cut her off in a blur of yellow and brown; Katt darts in, her first strike caught on Xiao Long's left gauntlet, second on the blonde's left, the taller girl stepping back to keep Katt's mass from unbalancing her.

Katt launches into a rising roundhouse kick, which Xiao Long catches on her shin, focus holding true despite her eyes watering from the constant abuse the radiant rainbow lightshow flowing behind Katt is inflicting on them. Katt pushes off of the other girl's limb as it extends into a counter-kick, tucking and rolling mid-air then landing wheels down.

Katt twirls her nunchucks for a few beats, before tapping the blue-hued half of the weapon on the ground. A miniature recreation of the glaciers Weiss had employed in the first match proving just enough of a barrier to keep Xiao Long from rushing to her teammates defense as Coal successfully predicts Weiss fourth Glyph-enhanced assault, and cuts the technique short by delivering a brutal backhand to her face as she passes by him, knocking her through the air, then sending her tumbling when she hits the ground.

Before the Schnee Heiress can recover, all four of his duplicates had reformed, and a sustained blast from all of them is pushing her along the ground and even deeper into the lava-field as he slowly advances on her.

The Faunus is clearly putting more effort into maintaining her speed and tempo of attacks than landing a telling blow now, and her blonde opponent barely managing to do more than tag the other girl when she moves to break off the fight as a one on one or move to support her teammate. Xiao Long's eyes are watering even more clearly on the screen from the more slender girl's constant, repeated high-speed passes, but her foot is tapping to the same beat Katt had been muttering to at the matches outset.

Weiss is not quite bent over and panting, but clearly trying to steal a moment to recover, having managed to put a boulder between herself and Coal while Arthur was watching the other duel.

Her stamina is certainly better than it had been when she and Ruby first started training with the Hero Faction, but the strain of constantly using her Semblance, the absolute muscle control needed to keep her form while hurtling through the air, time her strikes and reorient her body after each of them to kick off of the next Glyph has clearly taken its toll on her. Something she will have to work on.

Katt skates in a wide arc around Xiao Long, and shoots a quick look and nod Coal's way.

Smirking, the taller teen whose Aura still hasn't fallen below half despite Weiss' constant attack turns, and one young man becomes four, trumpets raised and aimed at Xiao Long.

A trio of Glyphs form in an arc angling deeper into the volcanic slice of the arena, and Weiss launches herself at the first. Coal–all four of him–take in a deep breath, and Weiss bounces off the second Glyph. Four trumpets meet four sets of lips, their cores lighting up red, yellow, blue and green as each clone presses a different set of keyes.

Weiss formlessly slams into the rightmost Coal. The two hit the next, and then the next collapsing them in on themselves with each collision and throwing both of the trainees directly into a steam vent moments before it goes off.

Port starts shouting about a double elimination, and Katt adjusts her angle, her mouth moving just a bit faster as she darts towards Xiao Long.

The taller girl steps to the side of the Faunus' lunging right cross and catches the trailing arm before the other girl can bring her glittering nunchucks to bear. Xiao Long pulls on the captured limb and crouches as she continues to turn, pulling Katt up off her rollerblades, then across Xiao Long's back, breaking her momentum before slamming her into the ground.

Across the arena, the steam, dirt and dust clear to reveal Coal standing tall–Aura deeply in the yellow–but seemingly unaffected by Weiss' gambit.

A moment later, the air finishes clearing, to reveal Weiss, the spectral armor of an Arma Gigas layered over her combat outfit; cuisses and greaves under her skirt, breastplate, pauldrons and gauntlets layered over her cravat.

Myrtenaster is enveloped by a spectral bastard sword that looks oversized compared to her diminutive frame, and Crystaline Blutte is similarly enveloped by a heater shield with a fractal, snowflake pattern on its face. On the Schnee heiress' head is an open-faced sallet. With a flash, a circlet winds its way around her now-armored brow, making her look like a warrior princess straight out of the legends most of the Hero Faction's ancestors have built up around them.

Arthur allows a smile at the sight while some of his other comrades react to Weiss' reveal. Jeanne and Heracles are both exceptionally loud with their cheering, while Le Fay is cooing over the older teen finally feeling comfortable enough with the ability to use it in something grander than a private spar.

One can easily read the "Oh come on!" Coal manages to utter–more likely for his own benefit, and those who can hear what's being said thanks to magic than anyone else–before Weiss takes a step forward, as the white snowflake patterns on the face of her shield trace their way along the edges of the rest of her summoned armor and up the spine of her sword.

Behind Weiss, Xiao Long rolls onto Katt's stomach, knees pinning her arms above her head and starts raining blows down on her head.

At the same time, Weiss lashes out with her summon-enhanced blade, the taller and larger teen stumbling back with each strike and his Aura depleting almost as much as Katt's is with each hit.

To the crowd, it certainly appears impressive enough. But having helped Weiss train, the miniscule flaws in her form–poor alignment of her blade, overextensions, misplaced steps and suboptimal angles of attack to name a few–are glaringly obvious to Arthur. Getting the girl to the point where she can reliably summon and maintain an Arma Gigas around her is just the start of the technique it would seem.

Normally Arthur Pendragon could not be bothered to allow such an apparently trifling thing as the training of a skilled young warrior of moderate potential to hinder his life's mission. That said, the old adage that you learn as much from teaching as training had proven true, and exactly what he had needed to break the stagnation he'd fallen into. At some point after that, improbably as he had once thought such a thing to be, he had found himself invested in the the Heiress' progress and her friendship. The lessons brought to mind a… simpler time.

Arthur suspects that Weiss' recent visit with her older sister had helped her calm her emotions and solidify her convictions a good deal. Which, given recent revelations, was the likely catalyst for her newfound control over the Schnee family Semblance.

He can hear Georg muttering to himself, and Le Fay energetically scratching away at one of her notebooks. The realization of how closely Aura and Touki are related had only occurred to the more magically inclined of their numbers a week ago, and most of them are still deeper into theories than answers. The layman's explanation had amounted to the idea that the two are most likely not mutually exclusive, both deal with the individual's 'soul' or life force, and that it is quite likely that the correct individual could forge the two into a singular, far greater art given the right information and time to train and meditate on it.

Weiss had opened up about some of her troubles to him shortly before that, and Arthur suspects that both prodigal Schnees had set out for similar reasons. He imagines that whatever they had discussed had then carried over into their Semblance's power, resolving part of the bottleneck in her training Weiss had been facing. If he is correct, that would most certainly support Le Fay and Georg's theory.

Unfortunately, save for the experiments being run by the most magically focussed members of Cao Cao's innermost circle on Semblances and Aura, all they have is theory. That and what little practical knowledge they can glean from the two true wielders of the art that are nominally part of their group.

While Georg and Le Fay had dabbled in the mechanics–if only because of how ubiquitous the art is on this new world, and to explore the possible esoteric implications of that fact–and, Cao Cao having interacted with a particularly proficient master of Touki in the past, the Hero Faction lacks a true expert in that field. So, for now it is merely a passing fascination for those inclined to dabble in such things amongst their number, and a potentially useful fact for the rest of them to know.

Weiss and Xiao Long spend a moment to bask in the crowd's adulation while Port goes on about the match, and his own attention fades after the average performance.

Mentally he earmarks the next few weeks of Weiss's training to account for the increased strength and reach the summon lends her as Xaio Long helps Katt to her feet.

Coal, in a show of amicable sportsmanship that perfectly aligns with the intent of this Festival offers Weiss his hand with a lopsided smirk. She accepts, and the shake looks firm and earnest enough. In spite of the loss, he seems to have been impressed by the Heiress despite his abundantly clear preconceptions and understandable filial grudge. Though the 'jury is out' as the saying goes as to whether that too had been a ploy. Either way, Arthur finds how the young man had performed and comported himself in the face of defeat to be commendable. If Coal's father is not proud of him, then the man is a fool.

Polite and slow clapping sounds from behind him and to his left.

Glancing back at his leader, the proud smirk on the youth's face as he applauded one of their two prospective recruits is plain as day. The others, even Leonardo, had not required any prompting to show their own appreciation for Weiss' showing.

"You've come far, Weiss Schnee." Cao Cao proclaims just loudly enough for them to hear him over Port's effusive praise of the victorious duo. A sentiment Arthur can agree with, though he refrains from doing so aloud lest his 'superior's' ego swell even further. Doubtless he intends to extol Weiss' prowess to the lower level Heroes with footage taken from the recording of the match. Collected by Georg from the arena's intranet rather than purchased, no doubt. Perhaps even mixed in with what recordings of their Team's semi-legal skirmishes up to and including the footage of their battle against the stolen Paladin.

Xiao Long offers a hand to Katt, who immediately bypasses the offered hand and wraps the larger girl up in a hug, before backing up to bounce around her, clearly babbling exuberantly and energetically despite having lost. As soon as Coal and Weiss separate their hands, Katt slams into the two of them, an arm wrapping around each of their shoulders, mouth still working as quickly as she can likely make it.

It had been a good bout, the Pendragon scion is willing to admit, with only the barest of reservations. Honestly, Arthur can only idly watch this sort of event for so long before wanting to join in himself.

Unfortunately these Huntsmen-in-training lack the skill to truly challenge him. Fully trained Huntsmen, he suspects, would barely prove any better.

Of course, a few of them may have a Semblance developed enough to keep things interesting, or force him to fight more seriously, but even the greatest of them–according to their local sources, guides and friends at least–are soundly within the upper limits of most Middle-class beings.

Sure, those stand-outs may be scraping the very bottom of High-class, but that is still Child's play for warriors of Arthur's caliber. Or, really, any of the other members of Cao Cao's inner circle within the Hero Faction. That Le Fay is counted amongst those chosen few on her own merit being a point of pride to him, but that's neither here nor there.

Even the more dangerous types of Grimm–that Huntsmen have survived to return to the kingdoms and tell tales of–fall short, barely tipping over into High-class by the most generous measure. More fodder, to him at least.

He sighs warily. Not for the first time, Arthur wonders what he is doing here.

Arthur takes a small sip of black tea from the mug Ruby had gifted him a week ago–from the section of Beacon's merchandise store that only students and their family can access with her and Weiss' emblems on it. Still the perfect temperature half an hour after he'd had it filled thanks to a small spell Le Fay had cast on it.

After swallowing, he looks away from the arena proper to his 'comrades' in their carefully chosen seats, stolen by Georg when he hacked the ticketing system. Jeanne had asked why they were in the metaphorical 'cheap seats' instead of a skybox again when they had settled in for the day, and had gotten a circuitous answer about the odds of being caught performing the same hack twice and a lack of available skyboxes when he had went to make their 'reservations' making the point moot.

Especially considering that many of the VIPs in question are gods, Ultimate-class Devils, Seraphim of both white and black feathers with their retainers and subordinates, and several other entities of power he could not identify for the brief moment he had been in their presence or able to see them.

Scrying spells courtesy of Georg and Le Fay having revealed a gathering of important individuals from Earth's paranormal world on par with the native movers-and-shakers using the Festival as an excuse to mingle and presumably make deals concerning Remnant's governance and future.

Short glimpses, of course. Even mages as prodigious as them had to tread carefully when it came to the security fielded by such beings.

A highlight reel from the fight starts playing on the screens above them, and Heracles and Jeanne immediately ignore it in favor of gossiping about the disparaging statements Weiss had made about her father at the matches start–Georg having cast a spell to allow the group to hear the banter in the arena– speculating that the fallout from that, should it have been picked up on the live broadcast, will likely lead to her joining them soon. After aggressively agreeing on that, the pair quickly move on to excitable rambling about the techniques displayed in the ring.

Heracles is more focussed on Xiao Long's combat style, expanding on what Ruby had told them of her, and how after seeing the girl in action as opposed to watching the footage that Georg and Le Fay had acquired of Ruby and Weiss with their teammates. The towering Hero now more readily understanding their potential new recruit's suggested expansions to his own combat repertoire with Variant Detonation after having seen the blonde in action in a more serious bout. His dynamic with Ruby, of all people, had come as a surprise to Arthur, to be certain.

Jeanne, who has been refining her sword work alongside Weiss for weeks now is gushing about her to Heracles, and anyone else in earshot. She'd been including Ruby's suggestions for additional applications for her Sacred Gear Blade Blacksmith, and her Balance Breaker throughout their training sessions. But it seems Arthur certainly isn't the sole member of this band with a desire to see the Heiress advance from how proud she sounds. From the way she is carrying on one would get the impression that she were the sole contributor to Weiss' growth. Honestly…

The ever indulgent and blank-faced Leonardo who'd been leaning forward to pay attention to Weiss' entire match, is now leaning back in his seat, answering the more rowdy pair's prompts and questions with short, monosyllabic answers as they bombard him as much as each other.

More surprisingly, the overall acceptance of Ruby's shameless drawing on comics and footage from previous Festivals for inspiration since she had first come to the group had increased over the course of their meetings with the Hero Faction. It had proven quite the boon to the Heroes' overall battlefield creativity and imagination.

Leonardo having handily learned the most from her. Compounded with the field experience exterminating Grimm, the prodigy had shown a more nurturing almost maternal side as she helped the quiet boy in trying to actually emulate the fantastical things Ruby had shown him with Annihilation Maker. His developing new utilities for his Longinus are impressing even Cao Cao with how useful they may yet prove.

And of course, Cao Cao has the final say on nearly everything. Including the impending meeting between their group, and the remaining two members of Ruby's team. How well they do, or do not get along with the Heroes, their true prowess, mettle and what drives them will all be secondary considerations at best after Cao Cao's hands down his verdict.

From there…

Arthur glances stealthily back to where Cao Cao and Georg are sitting behind, and one row above them. While Cao Cao had claimed it was to ensure that he remained apprised of his people's actions and interpersonal relationships, Arthur is aware enough to also recognize the powerplay that it is and it rankles, how nearly everything in this group seems to come back to that.

The empty seat to Cao Cao's left marks Siegfried's–merciful–absence. While his 'rival's' thirst for battle–and as a result–improvement of his own skills is inspiring, Arthur can only take so much of battling the same foe repeatedly before it becomes… tiresome. Initially the novelty of facing down the Strongest Demonic Sword wielder repeatedly had been a thrill, but that had long since faded with the constant repetition and lack of variety to their bouts.

And Cao Cao had expressly forbidden any battles to the death. Understandable, he supposes. The Hero Faction are not so numerous that the core members of their groups' lives can be so freely spent.

Another infuriating trait Arthur had to put up with is his leader's conniving and grandstanding manner. Doubly so for his needlessly complicated stratagems.

Even now…

The spectacled blond notes Cao Cao is currently inspecting a hologram of Amity Colosseum on his Scroll which may or may not contain more details than are available for public consumption. Georg had recently attained success in his attempts to hacking into not just the coliseum's ticket sales tracker, but its connection to the CCT Net, bypassing both Fallen and Devil cybersecurity in addition to the enhanced virus spreading through every system to interface with the Colosseum which the former defenses were reaching out to stymie, likely when the time came.

From how Georg had described things, Arthur suspects that the looming cyber-war will be pure Chaos. And with its onset, whatever it is that has been building up, whatever conflict has been being built towards behind closed doors and in the shadows on Remnant will finally begin. What this so-called Hero Faction intends to do about the looming violence…

To say that it leaves a bad taste in Arthur's mouth would be a gross understatement.

He does not doubt that Georg and his more technologically minded subordinates at the Heroes soon-to-be-permanent base of operations here on Remnant could counter-hack the virus that has spread its reach to nearly all of Amity Colosseum, and the Valean government and Atlesian expeditionary force's computers easily enough. From there it would likely be a matter of course to backtrack it to its source and identify the malcontents behind it.

They have a chance to stop so much pointless bloodshed. Seeking out and challenging the guilty party personally and in a controlled environment, a task Arthur would be more than happy to carry out himself.

Sending a team of infiltrators to slay them before they know they have been found out, the most pragmatic course of action he will admit, despite his distaste for such tactics. Or cornering them with overwhelming force, dragging the identities of their superiors, should they prove to be following the orders of another, out of them and taking the fight to the true masters of the scheme prepared to strangle the life out of this Kingdom and its defenders.

Unfortunately, Cao Cao's plan to turn the looming chaos to 'their' advantage is one that the rest of the so-called Hero Faction seem to be happy to adhere to. To write off numerous lives to build the image and reputation of their organization, simply playing the part of heroes instead of doing as those who claim that name should, and ending the threat before it can act.

And while Arthur, personally, would be more than happy to test himself in battle against an entire subfaction of the Fallen that all had believed wiped out millenia ago, to do so after writing off the lives of countless civilians as a lost cause due to the nature of war is… beyond distasteful. Arthur does not consider himself a leader of men or much of a hero for that matter, and even he can see a better way to resolve the looming crisis than what Cao Cao has planned. A plan that Ruby and Weiss have yet to be informed of and will not be, unless they agree to formally swear fealty to Cao Cao and join their ranks in full.

An oath he does not doubt that two young women as earnest and forthright as them would immediately break upon learning what the leader of this band of warriors has in store for their world.

Arthur shakes his head and turns away with a sigh before offering his sister a disarming smile. The rest of their compatriots all rise to exit the stands, and the Pendragons follow suit. Le Fay blinks back at him, clearly concerned by something she saw in his expression, but otherwise happy as she returns to her notebook.

Arthur Pendragon does not consider himself a complicated man.

He knows what he wants, what the path to attaining that will be, what he will have to sacrifice to walk that path and is fully at peace with the realities that come with that. More than that, he believes that he will be able to enjoy walking his chosen path in life.

Le Fay's dogged insistence to accompany him had been a surprise, one he still hesitates to call welcome. However looking back at their time together since setting out, he believes she could be considered as being on the same 'wavelength'–as the saying goes–as their parents. That her decision to stay with him even on what had been a new journey for him at the time really shouldn't have been that much of a surprise. Nor should her determination to stay with him for so long after they first set out.

Her presence at his side had made his journey complicated and yet...

Le Fay had prevented him from making several decisions he now believes he would have come to regret. He would be lying to himself, however, if he claimed that he didn't want more for her. Watching her interact with Ruby and Weiss made it perfectly clear that his dream is not hers. That she longs for a return to any kind of stability.

As does he, in his own way, and provided it is on his terms.

When the so-called Hero Faction had first approached him, he had paid no mind to their outwardly presented high-minded ideals, easily seeing through most of the hypocrisy around them. This band of self-proclaimed Heroes, to him at least, is merely a means to acquire the notoriety needed to seek out the worthy challenges and experiences he requires to properly increase his mastery over Caliburn. Nothing more.

For quite some time after joining this traveling band of warriors and malcontents, he had gotten exactly what he'd desired. Prowess, challenges and personal growth.

Those days, however, have passed.

Arthur can't help but feel that his progress has stagnated, and he finds himself chafing more and more under the Holy Spear wielder's 'benevolent' tyranny. The amount of worthy adversaries and true challenges have been increasingly and rapidly dwindling as the weeks and months stretch onwards. Without the distraction of a bout to observe, new comrades to train or a battle to fight, the truth is once again becoming nearly impossible for him to ignore.

He has not come any closer to his goal in quite some time.

Arthur looks to one of the many screens playing highlight reels as they pass it, a smaller box in its corner showing the two teams making their way from the arena. Weiss Schnee and Ruby Rose–Idly, he wonders when he had stopped thinking of the two as Lady Schnee and Ms. Rose respectively.

Arthur never had the luxury of friends as he grew up, and what few friends he did make, he had left behind when he took on his quest; and those few he made along the way had nearly all proven themselves false, or lacked the fortitude to continue along the seemingly endless journey with him.

Le Fay, unfortunately, seems to have been cut from the same cloth as him in that regard. Though he is thankful that she doesn't seem to have any more of his bad habits.

For all that some may disagree there are a few similarities between hand to hand and armed combat. The mental and spiritual discipline Arthur's training required of him to better become one with his sword; to cast aside all trivialities and focus solely on the task at hand is intense. Some of those trivialities are, for better or worse, things that most others would take for granted, or even vital to one's personal and mental health. Eating more than the bare minimum to maintain his body, comfortable sleeping considerations, and a wide and varied network of interpersonal connections.

As such, there are very few he holds close to his heart. His parents, Le Fay and…

Elaine.

At some point between meeting a tired and shaken Weiss and Ruby the morning after Connla had saved them and the present, they had worked their way into that miniscule group. A chance encounter brought on by the curiosity of Connla and luck had yielded a friendship Arthur can't say he minded.

While their swordwork is not compatible with his style, their mindset certainly could be. Weiss isn't quite able to touch the threshold he has long since passed, and frankly, he feels she is better for it. Weiss… Isn't like him. More like Le Fay, had she been a prodigy fencer rather than a mage, her talent encouraged and cultivated from the beginning. Perhaps that is how their friendship blossomed as it did.

Ruby's own closeness and care for his sister in addition to her intelligent, almost innocent fascination with swords and her near-reverence of Caliburn had been quick to create an inroad between them.

Unable to humor any self-deception as Cao Cao has made himself, Arthur does not believe that Weiss or Ruby honestly deserve to be dragged into the muck that is Cao Cao's deluded lot. Nor do they have a place in the self-imposed crusade the 'Hero Faction' believe themselves to be on. Not as his newfound friends are, which is how he would like them to remain.

While it is plain as day–to Arthur at least–that the pair of aspiring Huntresses are making headway in helping the Hero Faction attain a healthier mindset, one befitting youths of their ages, and with their lofty goals and high-ideals, he fears it will be too little, too late. That whatever war is looming just over the horizon will send them all screaming over the edge. Into living proof that the greatest of evils are not committed by the wicked 'because they can' but by the noble 'because they must.'

Shopping, chattering about idle topics amongst themselves, even regular trips into the wilderness to slay Grimm–an actual, objective evil, rather than beings of another race who could only be considered enemies due to circumstance, or millenia of societal pressure and deeply flawed, if not broken, systems– was a start. Life on Remnant, however, only seems to have made Cao Cao hunger for something more. And where he leads, the rest of this band is happy to blindly follow.

Arthur isn't entirely certain if he wants any part of what that 'something' may prove to be. Doubly so for Le Fay, Ruby and Weiss.

'But what alternative is there?' Arthur cannot help but silently muse.

The self-proclaimed Heroes begin to wander off, each of them having their own plans for the rest of the day, with the next match not being for an hour, and without a comrade–Pending or not–competing in it, none of them care to watch it. They plan to meet back up again after the last match of the day to congratulate Weiss in person without the risk of running afoul of their Devil friends.

Not yet, at least. Another reason Siegfried's absence for nearly the entire day calls for concern.

After less than five minutes, only the Pendragons are still walking down the same corridor. Nothing to do for nearly eight hours, on a floating amphitheater that is a marvel of technology and magic, over a fair that would put most of Earth's World's Fairs to shame on the outskirts of a megalopolis larger than most metropolitan centers in all of the known worlds.

…And Arthur Pendragon is bored.

His sister is at his side, albeit with her nose glued to her notebook. She'd swiftly delved into 'the zone' as the saying goes, after witnessing Weiss' most recent advancement of her Semblance in battle. At least Le Fay can escape the pedestrian spectacle around them.

Truly, the life of a prodigy talent driven to seek ever greater challenges, with little else to draw any meaningful sense of satisfaction from can be a wretched one sometimes–

A buzzing in his suit-jacket's pocket stirs him from his aimless musing.

He glances to his pocket then over to his sister, still speculating the mechanics and similarities of Touki and Aura from the looks of things, before pulling the Scroll from his pocket. Honestly, what could his current comrades have forgotten to mention when they were all together less than half an hour ago?

Arthur pauses when he lays his eyes on the screen, raising an eyebrow in confusion. This isn't one of his contacts.

All of their Scrolls had been modified–magically and physically–by Le Fay and Georg to prevent spam, or contact from any devices not purposefully added to their contact lists by the Scroll's owner from being able to reach them. And, of course, to keep that deviously insidious virus away.

With a shrug, and having nothing better to do than indulge his curiosity, he opens the message sent by the mystery number:

[Unknown Number]

Good day, Arthur Pendragon of the House of Pendragon. I would be honored if you and your sister would join me on the Amity Colosseum's Upper Food Court, at your earliest convenience. I assure you, it will be worth your while! You will know me when you see me! ;)

Skilled enough to bypass his sister and Georg's work, but not particularly hostile. If a bit overly chipper and familiar after forcing their way to his attention.

He can feel the malaise of boredom and dissatisfaction that's been hanging over his head lighten ever so slightly. He gently tugs on Le Fay's sleeve, stopping her from moving on or running into something as she continues scribbling in her notes, otherwise dead to the world. She turns to face him, blinking a bit owlishly at his breaking her out of her note-taking distracted state.

He isn't doing anything to disguise his curiosity, and it only takes Le Fay a moment to tuck away the small, lightly gilded notebook Weiss had given her to keep notes on her more experimental spellwork, as well as any other supernatural theories and phenomena that may catch her fancy. "What is it?"

Arthur gestures to the device in his hand. "An anonymous invitation."

He hands the Scroll over to his sister, whose brows furrow as she inspects the message. "What in the world? Who could have? What…" For a beat, there is nothing but silence between the two of them. Then, with a wide-eyed look of bewilderment on her face, Le Fay slowly breathes out. After inhaling, she tilts her head, her focus entirely on the Scroll before turning up to him as if he had the answers to everything and asks "How?"

"I'm afraid I haven't the foggiest, sister." Arthur replies regretfully in the most over-the-top accent he can manage as he straightens his glasses. "Only one way to find out, I suppose." He offers his right arm, Le Fay smiles up at him–slightly uneasy from having her defensive spells so handily bypassed–then links her left hand onto it, trusting him to lead her through the crowd before they set off towards the specified Food Court. She unthinkingly follows him through the floating amphitheater, the entirety of her focus on the Scroll in her hand and the spells that had been applied to it, searching for the fault in her work.

Perhaps he has cause to worry about her being as single-minded as himself, after all…

As he navigates the corridors for the both of them, he can't help but hope that this will be some sort of childish prank, or better yet an elaborate ambush scheme.

If only to allow him to escape from the monotony for at least a little while.

_-*R-DxD*-_

Jaune had had maybe ten minutes to congratulate a sooty, hoarsely chipper Weiss and bombastically punny, grinning and victorious Yang before his Scroll's alarm had gone off. A reminder he'd made for himself of the first of several meetings Rune and Lady Leviathan had informed him that he and select members of his Peerage would need to attend.

These meetings would have repercussions not just for Remnant but for Earth as well. And not just consequences like the 'thought exercise' he'd done the other day with a bunch of terrifyingly powerful– politically and martially–people the other day, where everything had already been decided more or less. Actual repercussions that will rest solely on his shoulders. So, yeah, no pressure.

While some may think Jaune being the first Remnant-born Devil means he should have final say on all these decisions, he doesn't have nearly enough clout for that. But it does give him enough for a seat at the table, and an actual voice; which is way more than any other reincarnated Devil his age could otherwise even dream of having. And if he gives them an inch, the Bael Clan can and will take a mile out of both his and Sairaorg's hides.

Thankfully that hasn't happened. Not yet, at least…

He taps Pyrrha–who, as his Queen, was to attend this particular meeting with him–on the shoulder, and she gives both Weiss and Yang a final and quick congratulatory hug before following him.

The two of them are less than half a dozen steps from their floor's common room when Neon Katt nearly bowls them over in her rush to wrap the victorious duo up in a far more energetic hug than Pyrrha had offered and started yammering about partying. Her more placid partner and team leader, Flynt Coal, a few steps behind her, has his hands stuffed in his pockets as he offers them an amiable nod.

Those two and their teammates will definitely go far, Jaune thinks. Having made Yang and Weiss earn their victories, mentally and physically. That they are such good sports in defeat is just icing on the cake. Jaune offers a final wave, and the two of them set off for the Amity Colosseum's VIP skyboxes.

At this point, the trip is rote, and one of the guys working security outside access to the VIP skyboxes recognize, and just wave the two of them through instead of checking ID's. They trek down the hallway–no Rune waiting for them this time, much to Jaune's silent disappointment–and Jaune knocks on the door and opens it to reveal...

Headmaster Ozpin, and no one else that he can see.

The Magician in disguise turns to face them, relaxed brown eyes widening in mild surprise, before he lowers his mug of cocoa from his mouth. "Mr. Arc, Ms. Nikos. What brings the two of you here?"

Jaune and Pyrrha blink in open confusion. "Umm, we'd been told that there was a meeting that we were supposed to be at in like, five minutes?" The emphasis on the word 'meeting' and look in his eyes hopefully conveying exactly what he's trying to imply.

"Ah," Ozpin replies plainly, taking a sip of his cocoa. "I believe I know where the misunderstanding arose from. This is my personal suite for the duration of the tournament. The special gatherings are mostly being held in a trio of suits a few units further down the hallway mine is in. The meeting you and your team were in attendance for was held here as it involved both dignitaries from the Underworld and Remnant. My next appointment is not for another half an hour yet, and I highly doubt that either Lady Leviathan or Professor Goodwitch would have left the two of you without clear and concise instructions." He raises an eyebrow, the unspoken question perfectly clear.

Eyes wide, Pyrrha tugs at his sleeve, "Jaune… which suite did Rune say we were supposed to go to again?"

He can feel his face heating as he fishes his Scroll out of his pocket, and after a quick check, finds that they were indeed supposed to meet with Lady Leviathan two units down from the Headmaster's.

Aw crap…Crap crap crap!

With a quick apology that Ozpin calmly but jovially accepts, they leave his suite and race down to the correct one.

With the fingers on the hand he had been more-or-less dragging Pyrrha down the hallway with now half-jokingly crossed, Jaune tentatively knocks. A few moments later he receives a chipper 'come in!' from Lady Leviathan.

Got it right this time, at least. Ugh…

Inside the suite, he sees Lady Leviathan, Professor Goodwitch and a broad-shouldered, tall man dressed in a royal purple leisure suit with a golden laurel-wreath crown resting on his ears.

All three of them fully turn to face him and Pyrrha as the door slowly swings shut behind them. The Devil King and Deputy Headmistress he recognizes easily enough, but the third party he thinks he may have heard of, but only knows by name if his suspicion is correct.

A middle-aged man–well, man-shaped entity, if he's right–with deeply tanned olive skin, and a broad, aristocratically appointed face. His thick, curly black hair is cut fairly short, and his massive, equally curly but well groomed mustache and beard hang midway down his chest, covering most of his white undershirt and the bright, sky blue tie that matches his eyes. The mountain of a man's face splits in a wide, almost too perfect grin that glints almost as brightly as his golden thunderbolt cufflinks and the laurel-wreath crown resting on his ears.

Zeus, Greek God of the Sky and Lightning, King of Olympus and leader of the Greek Pantheon.

Jaune swallows hard, and does his best to hide it. Between what little the Headmaster–Ozma–had told him of Remnant's Brother Gods and the research he had done on Earth's myriad pantheons under Sairaorg and the rest of his Peerage's tutelage, he is well aware of just how petty, vicious and unforgiving gods can be.

Jaune needs to tread carefully here. Professor Goodwitch and Lady Leviathan's presence can only do so much for him if he pisses off the divine being he suspects he's standing in front of.

Silently girding himself, utterly clueless as to what an actual god could want with him, he steps forward, Pyrrha just behind him and to his right. Just before he is close enough to offer his hand to Lord Zeus, Professor Goodwitch levels a glare at him and his partner. "Mr. Arc, you are late." She chastises him, narrowed green eyes boring into his, clearly and openly unamused by their tardiness.

Right, Professor Goodwitch being a disciplinarian. Something normal, mundane even, a lifeline to grab on to. He never thought he'd be glad to have Professor Goodwitch on his case like this, but here he is. "Sorry, Rune told me about the meeting, I wrote it down and I just kinda assumed that–"

The god barks out a laugh. "What is it that they're always saying about ass-uming, young man?" Lady Leviathan giggle-snorts while Professor Goodwitch rolls her eyes with an aggrieved sigh. Jaune only has to half-force his chuckle at the god's attempt at levity. At least that means he isn't offended. Right? The towering Olympian turns towards the two adults. "And speaking of dear, sweet Rune, I thought there was someone missing from the room. So spill, Serafall! Where is that hot piece of Phenex–"

Professor Goodwitch shifts her glare to the god in the room fiercely enough to get his attention, "Lord Zeus! Must I remind you that Miss Phenex is a minor?" While this is happening, Lady Leviathan's eyebrow twitches before her placid expression morphs into a catty smile while Lord Zeus's attention is diverted.

"Bah! How is it that despite all the sexual ingenuity you mortals have come up with throughout the centuries, you've only managed to get more prudish as time goes on?" Lord Zeus groans, completely unaffected by the Deputy Headmistress' ire.

Finally deciding to join the conversation with a shrug, Lady Leviathan answers the god, "I gave Runey some time off for herself. Poor girl's always been running herself ragged, and it's only gotten worse since Remnant was made public knowledge! With how hard she's always working, she deserves an afternoon off and then some!" Lady Leviathan gushes to herself with fondness for her aide. She quickly returns her attention to Lord Zeus. "And the last thing we need is… complications from her end."

"Ahh, protecting your hot secretary from all this, are we? Can't say that I blame you." Boisterous laughter flows from his mouth as he flexes his arms in a stereotypical bodybuilder's pose, showcasing some rather impressive muscles even through his suit that do not make Jaune greatly jealous.

Professor Goodwitch rolls her eyes before returning to glaring unamused and unimpressed at the god in the room. Her arms are crossed, and she is tapping her left finger impatiently against the opposite elbow elbow, The Disciplinarian in her other hand. Not that that will do her much good here…

Pyrrha, meanwhile, glances over at Jaune in confusion, and all he can really offer her is a small shrug. Now really isn't the time for him to explain Lord Zeus' reputation and proclivities to her.

Lady Leviathan's face goes calm, frowning slightly despite her typical earnest tone remaining, "Oh it wasn't for her safety, Lord Zeus, it was for yours."

Jaune and Pyrrha snap their heads to the side to stare incredulously at the elder Devil in the room. That… Sounded almost like a threat. Has Lady Leviathan finally gone crazy!? It's something of an open secret that she, and her peers, are under a lot of pressure, but they'd always given the impression that they were handling that just fine!

Lord Zeus on the other hand doesn't look phased. In fact he seems to have come to an entirely different conclusion from Lady Leviathan's words than what Jaune had. Glancing over to the still glaring Professor Goodwitch, he waggles his eyebrows at her "Oh?" He lets his gaze rest on the riding crop that Jaune doesn't doubt has been in an equal number of Beacon students' nightmares and secret fantasies over the years. "I suppose I have been a very, very naughty student, Professor. How will you be punishing me this time?" He caps this off by giving her the most apologetic pouting expression Jaune thinks he has ever seen. Wordlessly admitting 'I've been a baaad boy' without seeming submissive or sincere in the least. Something Jaune suspects Pyrrha would probably have never expected to see on a god's face, if the confused glance she is shooting at Jaune–equal parts incredulous and blushingly embarrassed–is any indicator.

The tall blonde freezes, and an ear-splitting crack echoes across the room, her crop having moved nearly fast enough for his enhanced senses to miss the motion.

Professor Goodwitch pins the god with a glare Jaune has seen turn fully grown, licensed Huntsmen to sweating, twitchy wrecks, hairline cracks spreading across the table to her right from where the force of her crop had impacted it, the weapon's stem flexing from the pressure she's exerting on it.

The Olympian isn't just unaffected, he seems downright amused.

"Oh no, it's not Glyndie I'm protecting you from." Beacon's Combat Instructor and Deputy Headmistress's eye twitches violently as she casts a vicious side-eyed glare at the Devil King of Foreign Affairs. However, she remains just as unaffected as the Olympian had been to her ire. Professor Goodwitch breathes in deeply and closes her eyes before letting out a low sigh, only opening them again once the breath has been fully released. Seemingly having resigned herself to her role here as an observer and nothing more, she doesn't interrupt–well, attempt to interrupt–Lady Leviathan any further. "I was talking about Runey's older sister."

Lord Zeus tenses, tan skin paling. "Raenella's older sister, the Sun Phoenix General? General Regina Phenex?" His voice is notably lacking the boisterous tone and bombastic cadence it had possessed since Jaune and Pyrrha had entered the room as he asks the question.

The twin-tailed Devil nods, "Mm-hmm. You see, Reggie acts calmer about it, but she takes little siblings just as seriously as me and 'Zechs do. Reggie doesn't mind it when boys or girls trip over themselves lusting for her baby sisters. I knew Reggie and Addy when growing up. Things got pretty hard for them. The 'burden of a Focalor gal,' as that branch of the family now calls it. " Lady Leviathan explains pressing her hand over her chest, somehow managing to seem both cheerful and solemn in tone and expression at the same time.

Jaune and Pyrrha share a quick look between them then a shrug. Having met the Twins and seen the… impressive endowment their bodies had developed, that isn't hard to believe. At all.

Without missing a beat, almost lightning fast, she removes her hand and points at Lord Zeus as Lady Leviathan continues, "But gods, especially gods like you, Lord Zeus? Who have a reputation of happily cradle-robbing, sometimes literally? Forget it, the flame gloves come off. And trust me when I say that you do not want to feel that heat." Lord Zeus visibly flinches back, but Lady Leviathan is on a roll.

"And she will find out eventually. Reggie doesn't just know what to do with a Military Intelligence Apparatus, but maintains a pretty darn efficient and effective one. I honestly feel sorry for the people that try to avoid it. A Devil doesn't convince the Belphegors to share Clan tradecraft secrets with them by being simply 'adequate'." Lady Leviathan lets the statement hang, a merry smile once again adorning her face as silence falls over the room. Professor Goodwitch and the two young Devils more chewing on the tidbit Lady Leviathan had just revealed more than rethinking life choices, but the effect is the same. "But that's just my advice, don't let me stop you! Reggie probably won't do anything to disrupt the peace." She shoots Lord Zeus a cheery wink. "Now, what is it you were saying about Rune again?"

Maybe it's just a trick of the light, but Jaune can't help but feel that the elder Devil's expression has gone a touch sadistic.

Professor Goodwitch looks at Lady Leviathan in silent, calm and open admiration while Pyrrha turns to look at Jaune, an awestruck expression on her face as well. And unless he is way off base, he completely agrees with the sentiment.

It's one thing to intellectually know how Serafall Sitri became the Devil King of Foreign Affairs. But seeing Serafall Leviathan in action, in person, is another thing entirely.

Lord Zeus stares at the Devil King for nearly a minute, right eye twitching, breath suspiciously and unnaturally even. "Eh, nothing, nothing at all… Last thing I want is to deal with Bennu's Disciple, I suppose." He mutters to himself, pauses, then the stress and rigidity on his face melts away to the confident bravado he'd been wearing when Jaune and Pyrrha had entered the room. Something had clearly occurred to him and there is a knowing gleam in his eyes as they meet the Devil King's again. "Speaking of the old bird, he does have a soft spot for the Phenex folk, doesn't he? But then, I don't have to tell you that, do I?"

The smile doesn't leave her face, but the look Lady Leviathan gives the god… It isn't even focused on Jaune or Pyrrha but he feels an intense desire to wrap both of them in thick layers, it's so chilling. He can feel it down to his tarnished soul. Pyrrha, who hasn't even been a Devil for a year? Probably frozen in place rather than choosing to remain still from the Cocytus chill of Serafall Leviathans displeasure. Lord Zeus doesn't appear fazed in the least bit, simply satisfied at having hit Lady Leviathan back after her opening onslaught. "Ah well. Never mind, never mind." He lets it go with an exaggerated cough into one of his fists.

Professor Goodwitch clears her throat, looking shaken. "If we may proceed." The tall blonde turns her gaze to the young Devils. "Jaune Arc, Pyrrha Nikos, it is my... privilege-" and by the way she utters the word it's pretty clear she thinks it's anything but "-to introduce you to Lord Zeus, King of Olympus, and the representative for their interests in what may be a developing issue of State between them and the Underworld." The professor finishes that sentence cautiously.

An issue between Olympus and–

Shit. This can't be good. Especially if it got the King down off Olympus and Lady Leviathan to set aside time in her schedule for one of the Bael Heir's 'charity cases'. Not that he thinks she sees him as that, but still…

Jaune shakes his head to clear it a bit. Brief spat of verbal sparring aside, neither the god nor Lady Leviathan seem to be preparing for trouble. Jaune supposes he will just have to assume it isn't anything too serious, and hope for the best.

Lord Zeus takes a few steps forward, blatantly undressing Pyrrha with his eyes, waving off Professor Goodwitch. "Oh, there's no need to be so formal. A pleasure, an absolute pleasure." Before Jaune can intervene, he takes a step back himself, nearly bumping into Pyrrha as the god shifts his focus to him, and starts undressing him with his eyes as well. "So these youngsters are the ones, eh? Hmmm, not bad, not bad at all. Y'know, it's a bit stuffy in here. I'd like to invite the both of you to a more private, comfortable setting for our negotiations. My Suite at the Vale Grand Hotel is almost worthy of a man of my… stature." The god finishes while waggling his eyebrows at them.

Jaune can only stutter while sharing a gradually blue expression with Pyrrha… Fuck! How are they supposed to–!?

"Oh, and Lord Zeus, one last thing~!" Lady Leviathan chimes in again causing the God to freeze, and turn slowly to face her again, dread writ large in his body language.

Needless to say, Lady Leviathan doesn't disappoint.

"Lady Hera made a point of mentioning that she's the only Olympian alive who knows exactly where under Corfu the sickle that Cronus used on Uranus, and that you used on him before imprisoning Cronus in Tartarus during the preliminary talks to set this meeting up." Lady Leviathan continues, her cheerful demeanor not faltering in the least even as Zeus gradually pales, this time even worse than when General Phenex had come up. "She went on to say that she will happily retrieve it from under the island, and do to you what was done to your Father and Grandfather if you put so much as a toe out of line."

Lord Zeus balks and makes an aborted gesture towards his crotch, Jaune flinching in masculine sympathy. The King of Olympus grumbles something under his breath about 'party poopers', crossing his arms and pouting while pointedly looking away from everyone.

Lady Leviathan runs her index finger under her nose in satisfaction as Professor Goodwitch's shoots another impressed glance at her. After a moment of silence to calm down somewhat, after looking between the Devil King and the god, Pyrrha glances in cautious puzzlement at her King. "Umm, Jaune?"

"Uranus and Cronus both got castrated when they got ousted from the top spot of the Greek pantheon." He explains, still eyeing Zeus warily. "The Sickle of Corfu is the weapon that did it both times, and is one of the few that's able to permanently maim a god, and has been used enough times that no one believes that it was a conditional thing or a fluke. Zeus' wife has managed to keep tabs on it, and make sure no one else found the thing for millennia. I don't think Zeus' bits would spawn entire magical races and gods like his granddad's did, but a few new Grimm-free islands for Remnant probably wouldn't be too big of a stretch."

"That… seems excessive." Pyrrha hedges, shuffling uncomfortably.

Jaune shakes his head, reaching over to pat her shoulder in a friendly manner. It's probably best for her nerves that she remains ignorant for the rest of this meeting. "I'll get you a book on Greek Mythology when the tournament's over, Pyrrha. It really isn't."

The god in the room lifts a ham-hock of a fist to his mouth and clears his throat again, still pale, but looking a bit less unrepentant now. He fixes Pyrrha with a charming smile. "Pyrrha, dear, you are as kind as you are beautiful!" His Queen offers a stuttering, blushing 'thank you.' Lord Zeus sobers, "But I think it's best to get on with the reason we are all here, now. If you could be a dear and produce your fire?" Pyrrha looks to Jaune, who nods encouragingly back at her.

The tall girl upturns her right hand, palm cupped, and a tongue of flame flares to life, filling it. Deep crimson at its base flaring to a vibrant, brilliantly bright purple at its tip, the accompanying metallic shriek has all three Devils present visibly relaxing, while Professor Goodwitch flinches back and Lord Zeus heaves a sigh.

"It would seem, young lady, that you inherited one of the Shards of Olympus!" A bit of silence follows that rather dramatic exclamation but if Pyrrha and Jaune are supposed to be besides themselves with surprise and awe, he's in for a healthy dose of disappointment. Even Lady Leviathan and Professor Goodwitch look at Zeus in mild confusion. Their collective reactions cause the god to actually look awkward and sheepish. "Ahh, I suppose, no one has really called them that since my pantheon fell from its place of supremacy on Earth. But still! " He presses on, clearly trying to recover his momentum after the slight fumble, gesturing toward the churning blaze rising up from Pyrrha's palm. "Prometheus Flame! It's one of the oldest Sacred Gears out there. Congratulations!"

"Oh." Jaune nods in acknowledgement, glad for having a name to properly apply to 'Pyrrha's Sacred Gear' but not really sure what to do with all the potential trouble and history that comes with that knowledge now that he has it. "But it's not a Longinus?" He asks for clarification.

"Nope. But it most likely has the potential to become one." He pauses for a moment. "That is if I'm remembering what Azazel had to say about the Longinus potential of Sacred Gears when he gets on a rant whenever we met up for an org–" The fake cough and clearing of his throat is the fakest, hardest to believe cover Jaune has seen in weeks. "–Meet up to raid Dionisus' wine cellar." Lord Zeus covers rather lamely. Professor Goodwitch rolls her eyes for a third time while Pyrhha shifts a bit closer to Jaune, blushing a bit, flame still in her palm. Which is, conveniently, between her and Lord Zeus now. Lady Leviathan doesn't bat an eye.

Right, probably for the best to at least try to keep everyone focussed on the task at hand. "Erm, I hope that the matter of Pyrrha's possessing a Sacred Gear that has, historically, been one of your Pantheon's will not cause any official political incidents?"

The god shakes his head and lets a rueful smile cross his face. "No, no. We're the ones who lost the damned thing, and it still found its way to a human from a culture closely aligned to the one that originally worshiped me and mine." His amiable expression doesn't seem to be faked, so that's good news. "It was an act of desperation and comradery that saw her reincarnated as one of your kind, provided there's nothing egregious in the classified segments of the dossier Lady Leviathan offered me on your peerage." Lord Zeus pauses, and looks over to the pair of younger Devils. "And while the Legend is typically told as Prometheus gifting humanity specifically, fire was intended for all of the mortal races."

Seizing this opportunity, Jaune presses on. "So, What can you tell us about… Prometheus Flame, was it?" Yes, he knows the legend. And yes, that alone is enough to give him a decent idea of what his Queen either already is, or will eventually be capable of. But nothing good ever comes from coming off as overawed in this sort of affair.

The god shrugs. "I can give you the basics, but I was always more into throwing lightning than reigning fire." That earns a polite giggle from Lady Leviathan and Pyrrha, a half chuckle from Jaune and a bit of laughter from Lord Zeus himself–Professor Goodwitch remains stone-faced as she continues to listen–before they continue. The divine being adopts a lecturing tone as he launches into his explanation proper. "It's a semi-sentient flame, the color and crackle–or shriek in this case–varies depending on the species of that beauty's current wielder."

Professor Goodwitch tilts her head to the side in confusion. "How so? And how can a fire be any level of sentient?" She sounds honestly curious, not doubtful or disbelieving. She's taking to the larger supernatural universe rather well, but considering that she's already been told of the many shortcomings of the local gods and the mess they left behind, another world isn't that fantastical, Jaune supposes.

Lord Zeus lets out a bellowing laugh, but doesn't sound disparaging. Probably the only reason Professor Goodwitch doesn't glare at him for it. "Oh, the tools and relics of primordial beings are almost always strange and fantastical, Glynda. The nature of little Pyrrha's Sacred Gear's sentience, is that it will only burn what she wants it to. Quite handy for minimizing collateral damage, cleaning battlefields where secrecy must be maintained, and making statements when the wielder is less inclined towards restraint. There's more than a few plains of glass covered by the sands of the deserts along the shores of the southern coast of the Mediterranean from when my champions and those of Amun had cause to cut loose the few times we feuded and warred back during our heyday."

Pyrrha blinks, shares a dissatisfied look with Jaune, before frowning. Clearly choosing to ignore the latter remarks to focus on the explanation of her Sacred Gear's utility. "I... had already figured most of that out?" It sounds more like a question than a statement, but that's just his Queen. More than willing to go out of her way and bend over backwards to avoid coming off as rude.

It seems to have been the right call in this case, however. Lord Zeus nods, pretty clearly having expected that response, or something close, a warm smile still firmly on his face. "I suspected as much. Like I said, it was never a power I wielded personally, but when us Olympians came to a decision on what to do about the status of one of our more powerful relics, we prepared... a boon. A boon that we hope will ensure that the relationship between us and Remnant starts off on the right foot."

With a snap of his fingers, a pale blue magic circle passes over one of the tables in the room.

It looks almost impossibly simple, until Jaune realizes that the stylized lightning bolts running through its rings where he's used to seeing runes are entirely made of what looks like an incredibly archaic predecessor to Euclidean Script so fine the bolts look solid, and then it's gone. A few stray arcs of electricity in the same shade play over the table harmlessly after its passing as it fades away, and the table is piled high with positively ancient looking leather bound tomes, and parchment scrolls capped in bronze and silver and gold.

Lord Zeus gestures toward the veritable trove of written lore. "These are all of the surviving pieces of Lore and instructional manuals written by previous Keepers of the First Flame we know of."

Jaune looks at the now mostly-full table, over to Lord Zeus, then back to his girlfriend before returning his attention to the god. "T-thank you, Lord Zeus, but, erm…You... do realize that with the rest of the Underworld and the wider supernatural community aware of Remnant, now, Lord Bael's plans for the sole power on this world to be his vassal are done and dead, right? And that even if it weren't, my place as that vassal was tentative at best?" He inwardly cringes, hoping that didn't sound too disrespectful.

The god shrugs lazily. "Oh, we're aware. That said, between the two individuals who have the power and right to claim this world as their own–indecisive absentee gods aside–I would much rather ingratiate myself to the man having stood for its people thanklessly for millennia than the woman out to end them all in what amounts to a glorified tantrum worthy of a Grecian tragedy." He rolls his eyes and shakes his head before clapping his hands together merrily. "So! A gift to one of his students, directly from the hands of the King of the Olympians." He gestures at the pile of tomes and parchment scrolls again.

Pyrrha looks as curious as she does pensive, and–to him at least–barely restraining the urge to rush to the pile and start reading through it all. Jaune decides to speak up, "Did you have any questions, Pyrrha?"

She looks away from everyone else in the room to the flame still dancing in her palm that is the topic of this meeting. "It... it isn't really that important, but, what did it look like? When it wasn't a Devil that held it?" She looks back up at the god.

Lord Zeus looks away, lost in memory as he recalls, "Oh, it burnt the most beautiful golden to silver-white when wielded by a human. A moderately lost Kitsune once held the Flame, and managed to hide that she had it at all with illusions masking it as simple fox-fire up until the battle that took her life. An even more lost child of Coyote had it for a few weeks once that we know of as well. Baleful green and hungry for him, reduced a good portion of the Great Plains to ashes when he lost control of it."

"Is... is that really it? Just two other wielders who weren't human?" Pyrrha asks, sounding more than a little confused. Jaune winces at that, realizing that he might not quite be living up to his responsibilities with educating his Peerage on the workings of the Supernatural world.

Lord Zeus shrugs in a 'what can you do' motion. "Prometheus Flame is one of the Olympians' more powerful Sacred Gears. The more powerful of those, along with any heroic or demi-god lines are usually guarded very jealously by the Pantheons they are attached to."

Jaune quickly racks his memory for what little he had been taught about the Olympians by Sairoarg and the rest of his former Peerage. "The Titans might not have much on the likes of Ophis or Great Red, but they did play a sizable part in the creation of an entire world." Pyrrha looks over at him in surprise, recognizing those two names at least. He continues, "A Sacred Gear created by one of them was never going to be a small, subtle or weak thing. So if anyone not loyal to them even looked like they might get their hands on it, when the Olympians were at their full might, well…" He takes his now free hand and draws its thumb across his neck. Pyrrha's eyes widen in worry and fear and it almost physically hurts him to have put that expression on her face… "That's why we're having an entire State Meeting about this. Wars have started for less."

"Well said young man." Lord Zeus agrees, stepping forward to clasp him on the shoulder. "I can see why the Devil Kings have taken such an interest in you, with a head like that on your shoulders. We'll entrust that Shard to you and yours." He steps back, just barely beyond an arm's length away from them and turns his attention to Pyrrha. Sky-blue eyes shifting to a solid actinic blue-white, errant bolts of electricity arcing away from their corners. "You may hold the title of Keeper of the First Flame for now, but I do not doubt it is one you will have properly earned before the year is out, Pyrrha Nikos."

Pyrrha flinches, both at the barest shred of the god's true nature and attention falling on her and the gravity and certainty of his statement.

The Flame in her palm flickers and dies.

Frowning, she looks down at her now empty palm, and takes a slow, shuddering breath in and out, before looking up and meeting the god's–once again perfectly human–eyes, and nods solemnly.

Jaune can feel her shuddering next to him, and all he can do is reach out and wrap an arm around her shoulders to bring her into a half-hug. She leans into it as much as is proper, considering current company. It's not much, but it does help her calm, and stop the shaking.

Lady Leviathan, Professor Goodwitch and even Lord Zeus all quietly watching her with a gentle and understanding patience.

He can't blame her for needing a moment to recompose herself. This…This is a lot.

Professor Port's booming voice announcing that the next round will be starting in fifteen minutes catches their attention in the solemn silence.

Jaune looks over to Pyrrha, and they hold each other's gaze for a moment. They really do need to be sure to catch all of the matches, considering that they will be the ones moving forward to represent their Team in the doubles round, then Pyrrha again for the final bracket.

Lady Leviathan giggles and nods at Professor Goodwitch who had raised an eyebrow at her. The tall blonde turns back to the young Devils. "Go on, you two. It wouldn't do for either of you to perform suboptimally because one of your opponents caught you flat-footed with a trick you should have had a chance to see in a previous round." She raises an eyebrow expectantly at them.

The message is clear: They still have Beacon to represent in the Vytal Tournament. A far more immediate and thankfully mundane obligation that must be seen to. Jaune nods, and steps over to stand beside his partner and Queen at the table full of tomes and scrolls.

A tarnished-silver transportation magic circle forms beneath them, and for a moment, he considers sending them to the Vaults in the bolt-hole he's having Ivan add beneath the inter-world rail-station the necromancer is building for him. If he is still on schedule–which, considering he hasn't come to Jaune with any problems, hold-ups or other issues he should be–those should be ready.

Then he considers why his contracted mage is living at the construction site, and that the Olympians are probably expecting all of this back in the same condition they'd loaned it to Pyrrha in once she no longer needs it.

The wards and defenses he's set around his Peerage's dorm-room will do for now.

Jaune turns to address the King of Olympus, with whom by now he's becoming increasingly at ease. "Thank you again, for your consideration and generosity, Lord Zeus." At that, he and Pyrrha step away from the table, sketch a quick bow to the god.

"Think nothing of it, youngsters!" The towering god booms. He pauses as if something had just occurred to him. Lord Zeus's smile suddenly goes sheepish and awkward. "Oh, and, er, if a few clans of Satyrs find their way to whatever plot of land the Baels have set aside for your Peerage within their holdings? Consider their fealty to you as part of this agreement as well."

"I... what? Why would they–" Jaune stumbles over his words, glancing over to an equally surprised Pyrrha, an utterly unfazed Lady Leviathan and a bewildered yet calm Professor Goodwitch. "Satyrs are going to swear fealty to us… because of the Sacred Gear Pyrrha has?" He sounds out for clarification.

Lord Zeus openly laughs. "Oh no, they won't be swearing fealty to you, Jaune, but to your Queen. A few of the Clans and Tribes that are still sentient either have a seer amongst them, or a few of them that have family oaths of loyalty to whoever the current Keeper of the First Flame is yet. We're covering for them while they're on Earth–a bunch of goatmen haring around the Mediterranean in triremes is a bit out of place in the modern world–but once they reach the Underworld they are your responsibility."

"I'm... sorry?" Pyrrha offers–to either Jaune or Lord Zeus, hard to say with the way her eyes are darting between them both–her expression one of complete shock and utter uncertainty. She may be confident in battle, interviews and public appearances, but the idea of–several hundred, probably–people looking to her for orders and leadership is certainly not something Pyrrha is cut out for, or had expected to have dumped in her lap today.

Lord Zeus shakes his head, still grinning. "Don't be. I'd rather they retain their sentience in the service to another than need to be herded off into a reservation for magical beasts or the Familiar Forest. Besides, what good is having land with no tenants to work it for you?" He steps up to them before putting a hand on either of their shoulders. His grip tightens, and he forcibly turns both of them to face the door. "Now go on then!" He slaps both of their asses, earning a startled 'eep!' from Pyrrha, and a less than manly squawk of surprise from Juane. "I want to see what it looks like when the two of you are actually challenged in a match."

Both of them are sent stumbling towards the door less than gracefully as he turns the slap into a shove.

"Good luck, Jauney! You too, Pyrrha! I'll see you later!" Lady Leviathan cheerfully calls after them.

"Fight well." Professor Goodwitch offers, clearly forcing it out, but to her credit is at least trying to end the meeting on a brighter, more encouraging note. The door glows purple and opens itself for them, and they nearly stumble into the wall opposite it as it slams itself shut behind them, both of them blushing furiously as they collect themselves.

All things considered, that went pretty well.


So, yea, Arthurs a POV character now, and that last scene , yea, we're gotten to the point in the Leadup to the end of this first major arc where individual chapters will be covering a few hours rather than days or weeks, so strap in! (Fair warning, some scenes will overlap, and we'll try to make it as clear as we can when they do.

There's also a good handful of easter-eggs mixed in for anyone who likes to hunt for that sort of thing.

Also, I will be doing my best to stick to mythology where DxD canon doesn't directly contradict whatever god/legendary creature is currently front and center.

Loved it? Hated it? Been constipated for the last few weeks and just need to release some pressure? Drop a review, those things are a miracle-cure better than snake-oil man!

Beta'd by MasterPrince713 and Hybrid Theory

Cover art by Icario