In a forest, hidden under the canopy of oaks so thick that light could barely penetrate through, sounds of a struggle could be heard. Two figures battled in a fenced training ground which was more of an arena, seemingly random mounds of earth and ice peppered with scorch marks marring the place. One of the figures was clearly large and unarmed, the other tiny in comparison, holding a sword. Both were completely without armor.

Dodge, try to get a good opening.

Jaune dodged a right hook from his father, gigantic fist sailing past his face as he barely managed to duck under it. An opening showed itself as his father overextended due to missing the punch, leaving his right side unprotected. Jaune stepped back, gripping Crocea Mors with both hands and thrusted forward, hoping to land a good stab.

Only for his strike to do absolutely nothing but cut a hole in the black tank top his father wore.

Jaune stared, baffled as his arms vibrated painfully from the recoil as if he just struck a boulder. His sword bounced off as if he was made of… something really, really strong. This was the same sword that was so sharp and durable it could cut through steel without a scratch. He didn't really know anything that was stronger than steel.

Sadly his surprise caused him to miss the other colossal fist coming for his face until it was too late. Jaune's eyes widened and a single thought went through his head.

Shit.

The fist impacted with a loud crack, Jaune's vision flashing white. He flew backwards a good fifteen feet, smashing into the fence behind them and cracking multiple planks, the entire fence even tilting backwards a bit. Ouch…

"You've already gotten a lot better in the span of a few days." Alexander said with an approving tone despite the fact that he had just right hooked Jaune in the face hard enough to shatter the armor of a Beowulf. Jaune was ever so slightly annoyed at the chipper tone his father had, as if he had just accomplished something great.

Got better, pfft, I sure don't feel any better!

"You say that as if you didn't just give me a concussion." Jaune deadpanned, his father only chuckling in response as he sauntered over to Jaune. Alexander smiled and gave him a hand when he finally reached Jaune.

Jaune hissed as he touched his cheek, already bruising an ugly purple. His head pounded as he was helped up by his father, the punch feeling like it'd actually rattled his brain. He'd been getting bruised a lot lately, way more than usual.

"This… really hurts." Jaune held his head as he began limping towards home, the impact with the fence having messed up his legs. Alexander realized his son probably couldn't walk, at least not without quite a bit of difficulty, so he decided that giving Jaune a ride on his shoulders was probably easier.

"Oh I know, trust me. The pain gets easier to deal with after a while." Alexander chuckled as he walked towards his manor, Jaune sitting on his shoulders as if he was six. Alexander was always quite careful, sometimes it was really surprising to him how fragile those without Aura were, like an adult would be surprised at how small he was as a child. It was honestly a testament to his self-control that he was able to spar with Jaune without accidentally shattering his skull.

"How long did it take you to get where you are?" Jaune asked, feeling a bit doubtful and wondering if he could truly catch up to the other students. He'd been taken out in a single punch! Apparently most start training at eight years of age. And a scarce few at birth! Though the kids who were trained at birth were usually treated… less than ideally.

"Oh, years and years Jaune." Alexander dismissively waved his hand. It was true, in fact it felt like even now he was learning new ways to fight.

"I didn't have any formal training, and I learnt most of my fighting style from trial and error. No transcripts, no teachers besides my father and my mistakes, and nothing to practice on besides Grimm." Alexander explained as he recalled the days when he didn't catch the eye of a certain wizard. Those really were the days, wandering from village to village without any real purpose, sometimes running out of food in between journeys or getting attacked by hordes of Grimm that would have overrun entire villages on their own. Alexander smiled ruefully as old memories resurfaced. Memories of struggle and hunger, but also memories of freedom and excitement as he ventured across Remnant, facing the different horrors and wonders this savage world had to offer.

Heh, some villages are still standing because of me.

"How did you manage to get to Beacon though?" Jaune asked curiously while peaking down at Alexander's eyes from atop his shoulders, tilted head that held innocent eyes that twinkled with interest, stopping his train of thought from even beginning. Jaune had been wondering how his father managed to apply to the school without documents of any kind. He had been researching schools lately and it seemed most of them wouldn't accept anyone who didn't have documents.

"A teacher saw me killing Grimm and decided I was so awesome that I could go to Beacon." Alexander said in a joking tone, despite knowing it was true. His children always asked questions with such curiosity and interest, the look in their eyes never failing to make him smile.

"Woah, who was that teacher?" Jaune asked, and the question was perfectly innocent.

But the answer to that question wasn't.

Alexander frowned deeply in response to the question, his mouth completely hidden but the way his beard shifted gave it away. That old wizard had caught wind of him stopping Grimm hordes that attacked rural villages, and tracked him down to invite him to Beacon. Alexander's frown grew. Manipulative twat had basically turned him into a living weapon, making him and his team bounce across continents to deal with both rogue Huntsman and Grimm the second they had graduated.

Damn jerk, sometimes he made me do multiple missions back-to-back even while I was injured.

At the time he didn't know what he was getting himself into, seeing it as a great opportunity to learn how to kill Grimm better and to have an easier time travelling the world once he graduated.

It was both the best and worst decision of his life.

On one hand, some of the worst things to ever happen to him were because of that manipulative bastard, on the other, he got to meet his closest friends, the love of his life and experience the thrill of a lifetime as he battled Grimm that would have brought even great Atlas down to her knees.

Alexander would tell Jaune one day, but that day was not today.

"Oh, he's probably long gone by now." He said simply. Jaune accepted the answer, being distracted by something he had just realized.

"When will I actually get to use the shield? It would've helped a lot when you punched me in the face." Jaune asked exasperatedly with no small amount of pettiness, a small frown on his face but not truly upset. Alexander laughed heartily in response. Jaune would have broken his arm trying to tank anything that wasn't a gentle breeze.

"Haha! You need to learn how to use that sword properly first. It's like giving a kid two guns instead of one, he isn't gonna know what to do and he'll try and think while fighting. And you can't just think and hesitate when a Grimm is coming to tear your head off." Alexander explained, relieved at the change of subject as he gestured to Crocea Mors and the sheath that Jaune wore at his hip. The roof of the Arc Manor begun to show itself in the distance as they walked and limped down a dirt path. Jaune didn't like how far the training grounds were from the Manor.

The Arc Manor was fairly large, even by Manor standards. It of course had to be large to contain the destructive family of Hunters that lived within. It also wasn't just any fancy manor, no it was a manor designed to hold Hunters. The building could probably survive a long range artillery barrage.

Patches of grass around the Manor were scorched, frozen and trampled, likely the result of Jaune's younger sisters playing around with their weapons. The Manor was three stories tall and had countless rooms within, ranging from indoor training areas to libraries. It was almost as old as Crocea Mors, having been built in Julius Arc's name after he defended their village, Arcadia.

The Manor also doubled as a great place to play hide and seek, laden with secret passages and hidden rooms.

Alexander opened the door to the Manor with a great creak and took off his shoes as he went in, grabbing Crocea Mors from Jaune's and putting him down. He placed it onto the weapon rack that was next to the shoe shelf. The weapon rack held a manner of different weapons, each one unique in their own destructive way. A pair of revolvers, something that resembled a chainsaw, a chain-knife and multiple other weapons. All equally deadly in the right hands.

"Dinner's ready, I hope you didn't hurt him too bad Alex!" Jaune's mother, Galore Arc shouted from the kitchen. She really hoped he wasn't too hurt, it wouldn't do for her only boy to be dead in the first few weeks of training.

Galore had sandy blonde hair that came down to her shoulders, pairing nicely with her eyes that seemed to be a shade of green so soft it was nearly yellow. She was quite tall for a woman, coming up to Alexander's neck while most people couldn't see over his broad shoulders.

"Nothing that won't heal with time, so don't worry." Alexander replied while ruffling Jaune's hair. Jaune laughed and tried to push his father's hand away, only encouraging his father. Now it may seem unusual with how casually they were treating injuries, but it was common for a family of Hunters to have spars and fights, regardless of having Aura or not. Even Saphron and Jaune who didn't have Aura, would regularly get into rough fights with her siblings. Bruises were common, scars were plentiful and pain was something most Huntsmen children shrugged off even if they didn't train to be Huntsmen.

Jaune couldn't count the number of times his teachers at school thought he was being abused when he was just playing rough with his sisters.

Despite having no Aura, Jaune was far larger and stronger than most other kids. He didn't know if it was the Arc genes, having Huntsmen as parents or just a fluke. It didn't seem like a fluke since his sisters were also quite tall. Jaune and his sisters were also quite strong for their age but that was only because they had to help with the village's farmer, generally doing dirty work and lifting stuff that the old coot who owned the farm couldn't. He was built like a stump, as his father would say.

Jaune had asked what that meant, and Alexander had said that it meant if someone swung a sword at him it would get lodged inside him instead of cutting clean through.

Jaune didn't find that analogy particularly encouraging.

As they made their way towards the kitchen, his sisters either ran, flew, or walked past him and his father in their haste to have dinner. Arcs loved their food after all.

Jaune sat down at the long table, which had a myriad of dishes set upon it. His mother always somehow made enough to feed all of them and still have some left-overs. It may have partially been because of their luxurious kitchen with multiple Dust stoves and ovens, multiple different gadgets and knick-knacks all related to cooking and a few other things he really couldn't bother to think about.

He was practically starving anyways.

Galore Arc watched her only son wolfishly tear into his rather large slice of meatloaf with a side of rice and quick sips of orange juice. He coughed and hacked as he accidentally drank too much of his orange juice at once, his sisters immediately laughing and pestering him. Jaune ignored them as he was too busy trying to eat.

She smiled softly, feeling pride rise in her as she watched her family grow, years passing by in the blink of an eye.

It feels like yesterday when we only had to take care of Lily.

We were so nervous, Galore thought with mirth. It really did feel like it was just yesterday when Alexander's great beard was only a pathetic patch of stubble, when he nearly fainted after finding out she was pregnant, when they still traveled together with their team.

When all her children were just a small bump in her belly at some point.

She cherished those memories, back when she used to hate Alex so much it sort-of surprised her how she ever managed to fall in love with him. But it also didn't, you tended to start loving someone after they save you from certain death.

Galore shook her head to clear her it of nostalgia and looked at each and every one of her daughters. Each one unique in appearance and personality. She honestly had no idea how six of her daughters ended up trying to be Huntsmen when that was the exact opposite of what she wanted.

Then there was Jaune, who was probably the most unique out of all of them. Always picking up on how to do things so quickly but also lazy and wanting to do nothing but play. That had changed quite a bit.

Ever since Jaune had seen Alex char that horde of Grimm, he seemed determined to become just as strong. Galore didn't really want any of her children to be Huntresses or Huntsman, after all it was a bloody line of work with high casualties and no good mother would want to see her kids hurt. The trauma that came with being a Hunter was going to jade them, change them in ways that wouldn't always be good. But nearly all of her daughters seemed to love battle, and it seemed like Jaune was beginning to enjoy fighting too.

Though Galore guessed her genetics played a part in that, because while her daughters loved battle, Galore used to live for it. The sound of Grimm bone shattering beneath Ferus Mors, her Kanabō, was music to her ears, seeing the spray of black ichor as Grimm were crushed and bludgeoned was gratifying, and she relished in the fear of those who opposed her, human or not.

Of course those days were over, ever since Alex literally and metaphorically crashed into her life.

So Galore allowed them all to be Huntresses and Huntsmen, because battle was in their very blood, and denying them that battle would be foolish. If they did go through hard times –which they would– they would always have their family. Neither her nor Alexander were going anywhere any time soon.

Though they needed to get Jaune a proper suit of heavy plate. Sure none of his sisters wore armor but they actually had proper training, and they also weren't a clumsy numbskull like Jaune. His father wore armor because he was dumb anyways, and Jaune was basically a carbon-copy of Alexander.

Maybe it was also because Jaune's birthday was nearing and she wanted to give him a little something.

She also just wanted Jaune to be as prepared as possible when he set out for Signal.

Jaune swung Crocea Mors at a wooden plank that was partially buried in the ground, swinging unevenly and shattering the wood instead of cleanly slicing it like he should.

Sighing in fatigue and slight disappointment, he stumbled backwards and leaned against a tree as he panted to try and catch his breath, hair slick with sweat sticking to his forehead. He looked around at the forest around him, light from the sun barely penetrating through the thick brush, a squirrel running across the training grounds, the fence he had smashed into.

He'd been at this for a while now, his father not being here to train him as he was currently dealing with a small Grimm incursion north of Arcadia. Jaune was sure he'd be fine, he couldn't think of any Grimm that could get even remotely close to hurting his father.

Well, time to get back at it. He only had a couple months to train, so he better train hard.

Jaune picked up Crocea Mors, holding it with both hands and preparing to swing again when he noticed something strange.

It's really, really quiet… no chirping, no deer, no nothing.

Jaune frowned, straining his ears as he tried to listen but hearing nothing besides the brushing of leaves and the gentle breeze in the air. Usually birds would chirp and annoy him, deer would curiously watch him from the trees, not seeing this particular human outside before.

It was unnaturally quiet, and it unsettled Jaune to the point where he wanted to leave.

Right as he thought of just heading back home, a growl was heard behind him. Jaune quickly jerked his neck to look behind him, the growl having startled him more than anything in his entire life. There in the bushes was a pair of glowing red orbs, a shade of red that wasn't natural in any way.

Okay!? Okay… calm down, analyze the situation and look for weaknesses… just as dad said…right?

Jaune slowly back away, his growing fear and anxiety only encouraging the monster to come closer. It growled again, stepping out of the vegetation that hid its form revealing the were-wolf monster thing – A Beowolf, Jaune absentmindedly thought– that was a head taller than him. It stared at him motionless for a while, before it suddenly kicked off the ground and started barreling towards Jaune on all fours.

Jaune absent-mindedly noted that it didn't look natural on all fours, nor did it look any more natural on two legs. It was as if it didn't know how use its limbs or something.

That's creepy as all hell.

His heart was pounding, and he could practically feel the adrenaline rushing through his body. Jaune was scared, more scared than he was in his entire life. But he was also strangely excited, his body shivering with both fear and grim enthusiasm.

Beowolfs were horribly common, mainly seen as nuisances due to the fact that packs of juveniles always scratched on settlement walls tirelessly, causing minor structural damage that could be devastating if left unchecked. But just because they were seen as nuisances didn't mean they weren't deadly, its glinting teeth and sharp claws being prime examples of that fact.

It didn't really have any bone plating besides its mask and a few bone spines, so Crocea Mors shouldn't have any problem cutting it apart. It was smaller than the Grimm his sisters described to him, so it was probably weaker than the average Beowolf.

Jaune braced as it finally got within striking range. It roared as it leapt at him, claws outstretched to tear him to ribbons. Jaune sidestepped the thing, watching it sail past him and immediately try to turn around even while midair. He could have tried to land a cheeky stab while it was flying past him, but it wouldn't accomplish anything, he'd rather make an opening to land a full power swing to cut off an arms or something.

The monster smashed into a thick tree, loose leaves being shaken off it. Instead of taking a bit of time to recover like Jaune thought it would, it immediately got up as if it didn't feel a lick of pain.

It reminded him of one of his father's lessons.

"Grimm are tough, Jaune. Fighting Grimm is a lot more different than fighting me, or anyone else. Grimm don't get tired, they don't feel pain, and the stupid ones don't care whether they survive or not. So you need to finish a fight as fast as possible, rather than try and draw it out. A battle of attrition would work against other Hunters, but not Grimm."

"So how do I kill Grimm?"

"You wait for an opening –or make one–, and swing Crocea Mors as hard as possible to chop off its head. Or leg, or arm, anything important that the Grimm won't be able to fight as well without. You can't half ass anything when fighting Grimm, if you're gonna swing that sword, you better make sure it counts."

Jaune's eyes hardened as he watched the thing turn around and bolt towards with a deafening howl. Jaune tensed as he watched it swing its clawed hand to divorce his body from his head. If only his body was as strong as his fathers, the claw would bounce off him without a scratch. Suddenly, a light bulb went off in his head. A semblance of an insane plan began to form in his head as he watched the claws grow closer.

Instead of dodging like a sane person, Jaune took the blow full on his shield, not letting it skitter off it, not letting himself stumble backwards or anything like that. He took the complete impact, remaining unmoving even as he grimaced at the pain. It felt as if he had been hit by a bus.

That hurt way more than I thought it would!

The Grimm's arm reeled backwards as it howled with hatred, the recoil of the blow having surprised the Grimm enough to distract it for a bit. That distraction was all Jaune needed to swing Crocea Mors at its throat. Crocea Mors lodged itself into its unarmored throat, the monster's howls being abruptly cut off as it tried and failed to breath. Jaune let go of Crocea Mors and stumbled backwards, watching the thing gurgle and struggle to grab the sword properly with its clawed hand, completely forgetting about Jaune who took off his shield because his shield arm was too injured to support it.

It collapsed, struggling on the ground and unwittingly worsening the damage to its throat. After a few seconds of thrashing on the ground, it finally began to still and its body began to smoke.

And Jaune felt triumph fill him, even as his shield arm hung limply from his side and the pain in it slowly grew. He pumped his fist into the air as a victorious grin graced his face, even as the edges of his vision began to darken and his legs failed to support him, feeling like he had accomplished something in his life for once instead of being a failure.

That was so awesome…

He proceeded to flop onto the ground, next to the smoking corpse of the Beowolf. A squirrel curiously examined his motionless body, and a feminine scream startled it away.

Author's Note: Sorry for taking a long time to update anything at all, writers block was heavy and I was also experiencing a LOT of stuff IRL.

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