Chapter one

It's been two years since Midnight and Kera escaped the clutches of The Shadowfang Bandits. At that time Kera and Midnight went their separate ways, Kera went to Vale to become a Huntresses and was now attending Beacon, however, Midnight traveled to Mistral City to become stronger in any way possible.

Midnight was no longer the scared fifteen-year-old boy that he was two years ago, in fact, because of his old occupation he landed a spot in a mercenary guild called "Azures Blades". The Azure Blades was founded by a group of skilled Huntsmen and Huntresses in the aftermath of a Grimm incursion in Mistral. Led by Seraphina "Sera" Nightshade, they established the guild to provide protection and combat support to the people of Mistral. Over time, they gained a reputation for their professionalism and success, becoming one of the most renowned mercenary guilds in Mistral.

Two months after Midnight arrived in Mistral, he caught Seraphina's attention. It happened when he witnessed a distressing incident: a human male who was about in his mid twenties, short green hair, and light blue eyes, hald cornered a female Faunus, forcefully pushing her against a wall touching her inner thigh. Unfortunately, Midnight encountered numerous similar situations during the five years he was a slave to the Shadowfang (primarily with Kera), so he stepped in.

"Hay!" Midnight shouted, his voice making the man jump, "Let her go!"

The man, his grip tightening around the trembling Fanus, turned his gaze towards Midnight. His eyes, filled with a mix of defiance and disdain, locked onto the unwavering figure before him. The air crackled with tension as the question hung in the balance, daring Midnight to reveal the consequences of their defiance.

Midnight's piercing gaze met the man's, unyielding and filled with a quiet resolve. It was a gaze that spoke volumes, conveying a depth of determination and an unwavering commitment to justice. His voice, steady and measured, broke the silence that had settled upon them.

"If you don't release her," Midnight's words carried an unmistakable weight, each syllable resonating with a potent blend of warning and conviction, " there will be consequences."

His voice, laced with a steely resolve, left no room for doubt. It was a declaration that echoed with the strength of unwavering conviction and a promise to fight relentlessly for the rights and safety of those who couldn't fight for themselves. Midnight's words were more than a mere threat; they embodied a promise to hold the perpetrators accountable for their actions.

As the weight of Midnight's words settled upon the man, a flicker of uncertainty danced across his face. It was a fleeting moment of hesitation, a glimpse into the realization that their choices held grave consequences. The pulsating tension in the air bore witness to the critical juncture they found themselves in, where the path they chose would determine the course of their fate.

In that charged moment, the man's grip on Fanus faltered slightly, uncertainty casting a shadow upon his intentions. The resolve in Midnight's eyes, coupled with the weight of his words, had planted a seed of doubt, challenging the man's commitment to his nefarious course of action.

The outcome hung in the balance, the tension thickening as the seconds ticked away. The resolution of the standoff would hinge upon the man's response and the choices he would make in the face of Midnight's unwavering determination.

The man, visibly displeased by Midnight's interruption, struggled to maintain his composure. His words slurred and stumbled, a clear indication of his inebriated state. With a wavering voice, he attempted to dissuade Midnight from playing the hero.

"D-don't be the hero, kid," he stammered, his words punctuated by hiccups of intoxication. "I-it'll only g-get you hurt."

Midnight's fist clenched with bone-crushing force, unleashing a surge of raw power that birthed a colossal hard light blade from my Gauntlet Shadowstrike. The prototype Gauntlet, rugged and unrefined in design, showcased its experimental nature through its jagged edges and exposed circuitry. As the hard light blade hummed with lethal energy, the faint glow of cerulean blue emanated sporadically from certain sections, hinting at the untamed power contained within. Shadows danced upon the Gauntlet's uneven surface, revealing a testament to its unfinished evolution.

In an instant, the man's hand darted toward his crude knife, seizing it tightly, as he lunged at Midnight with a surge of determination. Midnight, driven by his resolve to avoid killing, swiftly deactivated the lethal blade of his weapon. Before he could react, the man's weapon found its mark, slashing against Midnight's side, leaving a searing pain in its wake. Undeterred, Midnight seized the man's arm with a fierce grip, his eyes ablaze with resolve. With a swift and calculated strike, he delivered a forceful kick to the back of the man's leg, causing him to crumple to the ground in agony.

As the man writhed in pain, clutching his injured leg, Midnight fought through the searing discomfort in his side. He knew he couldn't let his guard down. With a surge of adrenaline, he swiftly assessed the situation, his instincts honed from years of combat training. Gathering his strength, Midnight lunged forward, his knee rising with precision and force. It connected with the man's face in a devastating strike, sending shockwaves through his skull. The man's body jerked backward, crashing to the ground with a thud. A mix of pain and surprise contorted his features.

Seizing the opportunity, Midnight swiftly regained his composure and stood his ground, his eyes locked on the man. Sensing defeat and overwhelmed by fear, the man's survival instincts kicked in. With a panicked scramble, he scrambled to his feet, his injured leg slowing his escape. In a desperate bid to flee, the man stumbled away, his movements erratic and unsteady. Midnight watched him retreat, his focus unwavering.

Midnight, his side throbbing with pain, approached the injured Faunus. Concern etched on his face, he gently asked, "Are you okay?" Her bloodshot amethyst eyes met his, reflecting a mixture of exhaustion and gratitude, before nodding weakly.

Unbeknownst to them, a Huntress had been silently observing the altercation from a distance. Her keen senses and compassionate nature compelled her to intervene. With a graceful stride, she swiftly approached the duo, her presence exuding a reassuring aura.

"Allow me to assist," the Huntresses offered, her voice carrying a soothing tone, she looked like she was in her late thirties, she had piercing void purple eyes, and long dark blue hair. "You've both been through a lot. Let's find a safe place where we can tend to your wounds and ensure your well-being." Her eyes radiated empathy as she extended a hand to the injured Faunus, signifying her intent to help.

Grateful for the timely arrival of a Huntress, Midnight nodded appreciatively. With the strangers' support, they would navigate the streets of Mistral to a small bar. It looked slightly better than most of the buildings in this part of the city, especially with its bright red neon sign that read 'Crimson Embers'. As they went inside the bar a man wearing a deep crimson button-up shirt with rolled-up sleeves, adorned with subtle black trim tucked into black slacks, he had a chiseled jaw with a long scar running over his left eye, he had strong brown eyes, and short black hair, had jumped over the counter just as Midnight fantied…