Combat Class was the period everyone was looking forward to the most and it showed in the infectious energy amongst his classmates as they all approached the locker rooms. Naturally, the guys let the girls change first. Even though it was a shared locker room and everything at Beacon was co-ed, it was just polite.

Cardin tried to enter but the force of a half dozen glares quickly changed his mind for him, and he waited with everyone else with an annoyed expression on his face. When it was their turn, Jaune quickly changed into his clothes and pulled on his armor, carefully strapping everything in place before grabbing his sword. Pulling it free an inch or two from its scabbard, he inspected the blade. While it was well taken care of, the wear of age and battle showed. There was no denying its sharp edge, however.

It was a weapon with one purpose these days – to protect, be it against Grimm or people, it mattered little. It may not be as fancy as Ruby's scythe or Weiss' rapier, or as destructive as Nora's hammer, but it was more than adequate for the task.

Strapping it on his hip, Jaune accompanied Ren to the amphitheater where their class was to take place. It was the building they'd all gathered at upon arrival, the day before initiation, and now that Jaune wasn't overwhelmed by the occasion, he had the time to look around and admire the place.

Raised bleachers surrounded a large circular stage, giving a complete overview of the arena, several aisles leading down a series of stairs to the ground floor. In front of the stage was an open area where the students had all stood when listening to Goodwitch and Ozpin at the opening ceremony, while high above their heads was an ornate glass domed roof, though little light passed through it, darkened by tinting or other means. Mounted on several of the walls were large screens, all of them set to a welcome message for their class.

Professor Goodwitch was to be their instructor, yet she hadn't arrived yet.

Even so, nobody wasted any time finding their seats. While Port and Oobleck had been strange, and Plum had been calm and motherly, everyone already knew that Goodwitch wasn't the type of woman to mess with. Even without having taken one of her classes yet, they knew this. She carried an intimidating presence, and being in her company for only a few minutes was more than enough to enforce this.

"Think we'll get to spar today?" Nora asked excitedly, bouncing up and down in her chair. "Oooh, there are so many strong looking people here. I don't know who I want to fight first."

Yang grinned cockily. "Think you've got what it takes to throw down with yours truly?"

Nora matched her smile, straightening her shoulders and thrusting out her chest. "You betcha. Don't cry when I nail you into the ground, blondie."

"Ohoho," Yang chortled. "You've got spunk, I'll give you that. But I don't think you can handle this, no offense. If we get paired up, be prepared to be taken out with a Yang."

There was a beat of silence and then Ruby groaned, covering her face in mortification as Pyrrha tilted her head in confusion.

"Don't you mean bang?" she queried politely.

Blake looked aghast while Weiss just gave Yang a very unimpressed look.

"What?" Yang asked defensively. "That was funny, admit it!" Pyrrha still looked confused. "It was a pun, Pyrrha – you know, bang, Yang, get it?"

"Oh!" she exclaimed, looking embarrassed. "Uh – haha?"

Yang deflated like a balloon. "Right… you guys aren't ready for my comedic chops yet, fine."

Suddenly, Nora began laughing hysterically. "Oh, now I get it~! Hahaha, Yang, you're so silly."

Ren covered his face, attempting to hide his laughter but it wasn't because of Yang's terrible joke but because of her expression as Nora continued to laugh. It wasn't the type of laughter she had been attempting to evoke.

"Alright, I get it," Yang finally snapped. "I get it already, so stop!"

"Serves you right," Ruby grunted. "Stop embarrassing me."

A door opened and in walked Professor Goodwitch, any chatter dying at once. She walked across the stage with long strides, her heels echoing around the now silent room. She commanded their attention effortlessly and they watched as she came to stop in the middle of the room, facing them in the stands.

"Welcome to Combat Class," she began, her voice ringing loud and clear. In her right hand was a strange item, at least in this context; a long, black riding crop. "This class is as the name implies. Here you will learn the finer points of combat, alone and as a team, and will be tested against your peers to help sharpen your battle instincts. There will be no place for ego or showboating here, and I will command your total obedience, or you will find yourself another school."

You could hear a pin drop. Jaune felt his hands tense unconsciously, curling into fists.

"The bouts conducted in this class will operate under sanctioned professional Huntsmen fighting championship rules," turning on the spot, she started pacing back and forth, her tone sharpening. "Meaning that only authorized weapons and Dust will be permitted. Combat will conclude when one or more combatant's aura drops into the red zone, when they are knocked off the stage resulting in a ring out, or when I personally call the match. Failure to stop on these occasions will result in your immediate expulsion."

She paused then, her crop tapping against her thigh aggressively. "But while we will be mostly focusing on person-to-person combat in your first year, there will be occasions where I will conduct lessons against Grimm, either in the Emerald Forest or Forever Fall. You will find that going forward there will be crossover between classes, be it Grimm Studies or Survival and Navigation. Be prepared for that."

She let her words hang in the air for a few long seconds before nodding curtly. "Now – since this is your first lesson and I am sure you are brimming with boundless energy, we will conduct a series of one-on-one matches to test your abilities, and help me gauge what level you are on. As the year progresses, I will attempt to make each bout as competitive as possible, as to help streamline your growth."

This was what everyone was waiting for and the feeling in the air changed at once as a room full of confident, Huntsmen-in-training perked up, the room humming with suppressed excitement. Pulling out her scroll, Professor Goodwitch opened it up into its tablet form. The screens around the room changed, a picture of every student appearing in a grid. Goodwitch tapped away on her scroll for a moment and then two faces dominated the rest, side by side.

"Awww yeah," Nora pumped her fist, jumping to her feet. "Am I going first?"

Goodwitch glared but Nora was too hyped to be intimidated.

"You are correct, Ms. Valkyrie," Nora hooted. "Come on down. You as well, Mr. Gray."

Gray was a tall guy, a little lanky with olive skin and jet black hair. On his hip, he carried a pair of pistols; magnum revolvers, the barrels mounted with twin blades on top and bottom. At a glance, Jaune thought they would pack quite a punch, though nowhere near as much as Nora's outlandish grenade launcher.

They faced off at around ten paces and Nora beamed widely, giving her opponent a wave which wasn't supposed to be mocking but by the tightening of his jaw, Gray took it as such. He just didn't know Nora's personality. Unclipping her weapon from her belt, it mecha-shifted into its war hammer form, the head banging against the floor, the haft standing upright. Gray gave Nora a wary look, hands palming his firearms nervously.

"Anyone know how good this guy is?" Yang asked, leaning forward eagerly.

"We ran into him in the forest before we entered the cave," Pyrrha answered. "He didn't have a partner at the time but we never got to see him fight."

Ren nodded, watching Nora carefully. "There were signs of a previous engagement, however. He knows how to handle himself."

"On my mark," Professor Goodwitch said, raising her riding crop. Nora tensed, one hand curling around the shaft of her weapon. Gray unholstered his guns. There was a drawn out beat of silence, and then Goodwitch lowered her crop sharply. "Begin."

Nora pulled the trigger, deftly hopping onto the head of her weapon as it discharged with a roaring explosion. Within the blink of an eye, she was soaring across the stage, laughter trailing in her wake. Gray dove aside, rolling as Nora blasted through the space he previously occupied, kicking off her makeshift vehicle and flipping over the end, using her momentum to swing down with all of her might. Just as her hammer slammed into the ground, she pulled the trigger again and a larger explosion rocked the arena, the shockwave reaching them up in the stands. The sheer force blew her opponent off his feet, carrying him several feet and almost completely off the stage. It would have been the end of the fight if not for his quick thinking, anchoring himself to the floor with the blades adorning his pistols.

Even so, his feet hung over the edge.

Close, but not close enough.

Yang whistled, clapping with delight. "Woo~! Go Nora~!"

While Jaune has seen her in action already, he couldn't help but be shocked and impressed by her strong opening. When she saw that Gray was still in the ring, she pouted, hauling her weapon until it was resting across the back of her shoulders, grinning.

"Aww, I was hoping to finish this in one go," she pouted.

Jaune wondered if this counted as showboating but Goodwitch said nothing, watching the fight intently. Gray scrambled to his feet, scowling, taking aim.

Powerful booming cracks sounded as his weapons discharged, bucking from the recoil. Nora moved swiftly, cutting a wide path as he tracked her, attempting to cut her off with leading shots. When a bullet hit the ground in front of her, jagged ice formed, forcing her to jump. Airborne, she couldn't dodge, forced to block. The next round was fire, erupting in a blaze as Nora attempted to deflect it with Magnhild.

"Dust rounds," Blake stated.

The fire did little to halt her advance, however. Landing in a crouch, Nora charged, closing the distance with several long strides. Rearing back, Nora ducked beneath the next shot before planting her right foot, twisting her body and engaging her core. Gray hastily ducked as her massive hammer swung from right to left, passing over his head with a massive whoosh. Seeing an opening, he attempted to slash at her exposed back as her swing carried through and yet suddenly she was airborne, letting her momentum carry her, avoiding his slashing attack.

"Oh," Pyrrha exclaimed. "Clever!"

The head of Magnhild fell to the ground, and Nora used the heavy weight to carry her up, flipping once again over the end of the haft, her feet lashing out in a kick. It missed Gray's face by less than an inch, throwing his head back wildly to avoid getting kicked. As Nora reached the apex of her flip, performing a handstand on the end of her weapon, she then allowed gravity to take her completely over, falling while adjusting her grip. She swung down at an angle, Magnhild tipping to the side, and then with laughter that was at odds with her furious swing, she spun with tremendous power.

Jaune thought for sure that she would connect, and the fight would be won. Such force would surely carry him out of the ring, and yet at the very last moment, an explosion of inky black smoke enveloped his position, obscuring them both from view.

Weiss made a sound of surprise. "Was that his semblance?"

A second later, Nora reappeared, her swing carrying her out of the sudden smoke bomb, hacking up a lung.

"Yuck~!" she shouted, spitting. Her face was covered in soot. "That tasted really bad!"

Gray picked his moment, dashing out of the cloud with intent, blades flashing as he slashed at Nora's face. She bent back at the waist, and when he was practically on top of her, pulled the trigger on Magnhild. The ground shook as it discharged into the floor, the recoil flinging it up, right between Gray's legs.

Jaune flinched, as did every single guy in the room as he howled, crumpling. Even the majority of the girls made sounds of distress, knowing without knowing just how devastating that must have been. Though aura dulled pain, it didn't completely nullify it – and getting hit in the balls with a war hammer propelled by the force of a grenade? Well – it couldn't be anything other than pure agony.

He dropped his weapons, the pistols clattering across the floor as he cupped himself, curled up on the floor. One breath, then two – and then with a giant heave, he vomited.

Even Goodwitch seemed taken aback by the sudden, brutal ending to the match, taking a moment to gather herself. While he still had aura, meaning that he was in no true danger of lethal harm and technically still in the match, he was practically crippled, gasping brokenly.

She had no other option other than to call it.

"The winner of this bout is Nora Valkyrie," she announced. "Ms. Stone, please escort your partner to medical at once."

A stocky girl with thick arms rushed down, helping Gray stand and collecting his weapons before escorting him away, though not without shooting Nora a vicious glare.

"Ah – oops?" Nora scratched the back of her head, appearing contrite. "I didn't mean to hit him there, it just happened."

"...while I would not encourage such a tactic in this class, I cannot deny that it is an effective vector of attack. In a real fight, targeting an opponent's weakness is a viable, encouraged strategy," Goodwitch said, face pinched. "Ms. Valkyrie, your use of your weapon was both inspired and skilled, and from the very beginning, you set the tempo of this match. You played to your strengths and executed, and for that I commend you."

Nora beamed. "Really? Thanks~!"

"However, charging in without a care is not something I would recommend. Against an opponent of similar skill, it may prove detrimental. You did not take into account his potential semblance nor his weaponry. He nearly caught you out at the end. A stronger opponent may have finished you. Be mindful of these things in the future."

Nora sagged a little, though she nodded. "Sure, Professor. I'll remember that."

"See that you do. Now, return to your seat and the next fight will begin shortly."

The stage was damaged from Nora's explosions, massive pot marks where her grenades had torn through wood, splinters decorating the ground. The Ice Dust had melted away, leaving behind frost bitten, warped boards. Jaune was surprised that such destruction was allowed, wouldn't things get really expensive with repairs? How much money did Beacon have to throw around? That was until Goodwitch swept her riding crop in a large arc, and everyone watched in awe as the damage was mended, shards of wood fitting together like a jigsaw, warped boards straightening out, frostbite and scorch marks receding as if they never existed in the first place.

"What the hell?" Yang asked incredulously. "How is she doing that?"

One moment, the place looked like a miniature war zone. The next? It was as good as new, not a single thing out of place. Not only had everything fit together, it was mended perfectly. There were no exposed seams, no weakness, the wood whole.

"My semblance," she revealed. "Telekinesis. Any damage you cause, I will be able to revert. Even if you were to bring down this entire building, it would only be a matter of time before it stood once more," she then frowned. "That does not give you free reign to destroy school property, however. In this class, damaging the stage is acceptable. Outside of this class, I will not tolerate such destruction."

Her eyes landed on Ruby when she said this before swinging to Weiss. They both leaned back in their seats, looking away.

Yang snorted.

"Ms. Xiao Long – Ms. Belladonna, you two are up next."

Lilac met amber.

"Ready to lose?" Yang asked, hopping to her feet. Blake rose calmly.

"Are you?" she returned calmly, face expressionless. The smile that crossed Yang's face could only be described as feral.

They both made their way down into the arena.

"Aww, who do I root for?" Ruby clutched at her face, looking conflicted. "Yang is my sister but she is also Yang, and Blake is like – so cool. Ahh – what do I do?"

Pyrrha giggled. "Yang is Yang?"

"Exactly!" Ruby exclaimed. "She totally needs to be taken down a peg or she'll get a really big head. That's what happened at Signal. No one could beat her so she was super annoying, all the time."

Jaune was curious how this fight would unfold. Yang was a power type while Blake was agile and swift, her semblance leaning towards misdirection. They were both skilled fighters, their fight against the Hydra had shown him that.

Nora plopped down next to him, immediately getting into his personal space. "So? How'd I do?"

She smelled of sweat and girl, and it took Jaune a few seconds to gather his thoughts. He cleared his throat. "Uh – you were great. Really great. Did I tell you that you were great?"

She laughed. "I didn't hear you cheering for me, though."

"I was just really focused on the match. I really mean it, Nora," he told her sincerely. "That was very impressive. The way you swing your hammer around with such ease is a little scary."

Her cheeks pinkened as she puffed out her chest. "Aw, shucks, Jaune – aren't you a charmer?"

"Just… never hit me there, okay?"

She pouted. "It was a mistake!"

"I know, I know – just… don't, okay?"

She shoved him playfully. "Fiiiiine. I won't hit you in the no-no space."

"Thank you."

Yang and Blake faced off in the ring, the former hopping from foot to foot in excitement. Slamming her knuckles together, the metal bracelets shifted across her wrists and hands, forming a pair of yellow gauntlets. Blake unclipped her weapon from her back and unsheathed her sword.

Now that he wasn't in a life or death situation, Jaune got a good look at it; it was of eastern design, Mistralian, slender with a single sided blade and pitch black. It held a slight curve, and was much shorter than Crocea Mors, a bastard sword. Not unlike his own sheathe, Blake used hers for combat but instead of it becoming a shield for defense, it was a large cleaver used for attack. A black ribbon was wrapped around her forearm, attached to the underside of the hilt.

Blake lowered herself, crouching slightly as Yang adopted a classic boxing stance, hands raised. Professor Goodwitch nodded, raising her riding crop.

"Hope you don't cry after I make you eat floor," Yang taunted, wiggling her fingers.

Blake remained silent, though her eyes narrowed.

"Begin," Goodwitch called – and with a bang, Yang discharged her gauntlets behind her, propelled forward in a blur of yellow.

Jaune couldn't take his eyes off them as they came together in a clash of steel, Blake spinning as she lashed out with precise strikes, sparks flying as Yang intercepted them with armored fists. Right off the bat, it was clear that Blake was the more agile fighter, a whirl of steel and death as she struck out in a flurry of attacks from all angles. And yet despite her swift slashes, Yang managed to parry every single one of them, her footwork exquisite as she circled Blake and lashed out with powerful strikes of her own, fists pistoning with bad intentions.

The way Blake's hair shifted whenever she avoided one of Yang's punches told Jaune more than enough. Getting struck flush with one of those bad boys was a one way trip to sleep city, and Blake wasn't going to allow that to happen if she could help it.

His teammate slashed with her cleaver, Yang tanking the blow on her arm before attempting to grab at Blake's wrist, an overhand left rocketing at her face. In a show of supreme flexibility, Blake bent backwards into a handstand, feet springing up and missing Yang's jaw by a hair's breadth. Springing away, Blake had little time to regain her footing when Yang was on her once again, this time firing shotgun blasts with every punch, the force almost tearing Blake's weapons from her hands.

"C'mon Blake," Nora shouted loudly, stomping her foot. "Don't let her set the pace!"

"Get her Yang~!" Ruby cheered, having decided to back her sister after all.

There was a furious exchange of blows, steel on steel before Yang's fist clipped Blake's shoulder, sending her spiraling away with a grunt. Rolling across the ground, her sword shifted into its pistol form, and she unloaded as Yang attempted to take advantage of her downed position. She was forced to abort her charge, two rounds slamming into her forehead and rocking her head back before she covered up, taking the rest on her forearms and gauntlets.

"Take that~!" Nora hooted.

"Shooting her won't do any good," Ruby said, shaking her head. "It'll just feed her semblance."

"What is her semblance, anyway?" Weiss asked, curious. "I saw her hair catch fire during initiation – I assume that has something to do with it?"

Ruby nodded. "Her semblance is kinda like Symbiote's ability in Carnival Tag Battle. She can convert any damage she takes and use it to increase her power."

Weiss stared blankly at her, brain having locked up at the first part of her sentence. "What?"

"Never mind. The more she gets hit, the stronger she gets," Ruby said quickly, flushing lightly. "The harder you hit her, the more energy she can convert but it's better than trying to chip away at her like that. Depleting her aura as quickly as possible is the best way to fight her, in as few hits as possible."

Easier said than done. Jaune wasn't sure if Blake had any hard hitting attacks, though. Her style was more about finesse than raw strength, unlike Nora, who was suited to ending a fight in a couple of devastating, brutal blows.

Blake had created some distance between them with her firearm, giving her a moment to breathe. Yang scowled as she shrugged off the hail of bullets, charging through them with her arms raised to protect her face. Shifting her weapon back into its sword form, Blake dashed to the left, keeping the heavier cleaver between them. Yang turned to engage, springing forward.

Blake jumped at the last moment, and suddenly there were two of her, the clone blocking Yang's punch while the real Blake flipped over her head, ribbon loosing from around her forearm and tightening around Yang's neck. She only had a second to realize what had happened before Blake spun, lifting her leg to stomp on the taut ribbon, creating a sudden pull of extreme force. Yang slammed into the ground, her head bouncing off the floor as Blake swung her cleaver down with all of her strength.

For a moment, Jaune thought she'd hit her mark, Yang shouting out – but at the last second, she'd managed to get her hands in front of her face, blocking the heavy attack. Wide open, Yang fired, twin shotgun blasts slamming into Blake's midsection and blasting her back, giving the blonde enough time to shrug the ribbon off from around her neck before giving chase.

Blake scrambled, several clones appearing and slowing Yang down the best they could by getting in her way. Though Yang managed to bulldoze over them, her fists reducing them to smoke, it gave Blake all the time she needed. As they met, she blocked Yang's punch with the flat side of her cleaver, letting the force spin her around, capitalizing on the momentum generated to slash with her sword. Yang ducked, rising with a powerful uppercut that missed Blake's nose by less than an inch. Lashing out with a kick, Yang hissed as Blake found her hip, aura flaring in protection as she was forced back a step.

"Stop moving," Yang roared, swinging harder, faster. Blake dodged frantically, attempting to counter attack between punches. She scored two more hits, slashing Yang across her chest and stabbing her in the shoulder, but she continued to advance, her hair beginning to glow.

"Here it comes," Ruby said, and then Yang was wreathed in a halo of flame, her movements becoming faster, her punches creating shockwaves as she attempted to land a blow. Blake created more clones to help her retreat and backpedaled hastily, using one of her copies to vault away in a backflip as it was destroyed in a single punch.

Yang shot forward in a burst of surprising speed and finally caught her.

Her fist resembled a blur as it shot out, Blake only managing to catch half of it on her sheath as she landed, her feet not set. With a loud booming crack, she was launched across the room, flying straight off the stage and slamming into the wall with a shuddering crunch, wood and stone crumpling beneath the force of her body. Her aura wavered as she fell to the ground, face twisted in pain as it threatened to break. A quick glance at the screens showed that she was deep in the red, less than ten percent, but even if it wasn't, she'd fallen out of the ring.

The match was over.

All that damage from a single strike.

Everyone was dead silent. Being able to generate that much force from only absorbing less than a handful of blows was astonishing. To everyone else that didn't understand her semblance, they must have thought Yang could dish out that type of power without any build up.

It was a frightening display.

"Oh my god, that was so cool," Nora leapt to her feet. "I want to fight her!"

"The winner of this match – Yang Xiao Long," Goodwitch declared as the tension was broken. "Ms. Valkyrie, sit down."

Nora did as she was told.

When Yang turned to face them, he saw that her eyes were a burning crimson red, and the wreath of flame around her head and shoulders made her look like a goddess of wrath, a being of divine retribution. Her brow was furrowed, though her mouth was all smiles, white teeth on display as she pumped a fist.

"Anytime," she said to Nora.

Blake struggled to her feet, rubbing her chest with a grimace.

"Are you well, Ms. Belladonna? Do you feel you need medical attention?"

She shook her head. "I'm okay."

"Very well, please return to your seat. Ms. Xiao Long – well done. Much like Ms. Valkyrie, you set the tempo of the match and used your semblance to perfection, ending it decisively. However, your straight forward approach left you open at times, allowing your opponent to capitalize. While it did not result in a loss here, you must be mindful of this. Do not let your confidence in your abilities turn into overconfidence."

"Sure, teach," Yang grinned cockily. "I'll remember that."

From the expression of Goodwitch's face, the woman doubted that very much.

As Blake trudged up to them, Jaune leaned over, "Nora, can you let Blake sit here. I want to replenish her aura with my semblance."

"Sure," she chirped, standing. "Blake, set next to Jaune, he wants to fill you up with aura."

Weiss clucked her tongue. "Nora, was that really necessary?"

"What do you mean?" she asked innocently.

Weiss opened her mouth and then shut it, appearing unsure. "I see. My mistake."

Though Blake tried not to show it, he could tell that she was dejected about the outcome of the match. She slipped into Nora's vacant seat, sighing as she met his eyes.

"I lost," she said simply.

"Yeah," he said. "You okay?"

She nodded shortly. "I'll be fine."

After a moment of hesitation, he offered his hand, palm up. "Let me use my semblance."

Amber eyes considered him, and just when he felt awkward enough to pull away, she placed her hand atop his, their palms together. He hadn't been meaning for it but their fingers naturally laced together.

"Okay," she said.

Trying not to feel weird about it, he focused his aura and activated his semblance. The effect was instant, Blake sitting up straighter as a small gasp escaped her lips, his aura amplifying her own, reducing any pain she felt, and replenishing her pool of aura in under a minute. Jaune felt the eyes of his teammates on them, and the eyes of Team RPRY.

"Hey, no fair," Yang complained as she joined them, hands on hips. "Why is the loser getting pampered?"

Blake scowled. "Shut up."

Yang laughed. "Ooo, I didn't know you'd be the type to be a sore loser."

"And I knew you'd be the type to be a sore winner," Blake needled back, rolling her eyes.

When he was finished, Blake reluctantly let go of his hand.

"Feel better?" Jaune asked.

She nodded, giving him a genuine smile. "Yes. Thank you, Jaune."

"Anytime."

Yang shoved her hand in front of his face, flexing her fingers. "Okay, my turn."

Ruby groaned. "Yang, your aura is still mostly full."

"So?"

"I don't think Jaune has time," Ren said – and they all followed his eyes, settling on the screen where Jaune's picture was displayed.

And right next to his picture was a familiar red head with emerald green eyes.

"Mr. Arc, Ms. Nikos," Professor Goodwitch called. "Your match is next. Come down to the ring at once."


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