Chapter 14

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The battlefield was a grim tableau. The skies, an ashen gray, bore witness to despair thick enough to choke a man. Our forces were outnumbered, outclassed, and, frankly, just plain out of luck. Morale was nonexistent. Soldiers whispered that they might as well lie down and let the Grimm save them the effort.

And then came Jaune Arc.

He didn't walk onto the battlefield. No, he stumbled—tripped over his own scabbard and landed flat on his face. It was a comedic display so absurd that even the Grimm hesitated, probably wondering if this man was worth the trouble. But as he stood, brushing the dirt from his armor with a sheepish grin, something inexplicable happened.

Jaune spoke.

"We're not gonna lose," he declared, his voice cracking slightly but carrying an odd, naive conviction. "Because losing would suck, and I don't like things that suck!"

To say his words were unorthodox would be an understatement. But in that moment, the sheer ridiculousness of his statement worked like magic. Soldiers blinked, then laughed—first at him, then at the situation, then at their own despair. Somehow, his clumsiness made survival seem less impossible and more… funny.

Then Jaune added, "Besides, if we don't fight back, who's gonna clean this mess? You think the Grimm are gonna tidy up after themselves?"

That was when things shifted.

One soldier—perhaps mad with adrenaline or inspired by Jaune's sheer audacity—roared, "He's right! Let's fight! For… for cleaning grimm!"

Another chimed in, "Yeah! For beating them with brooms! And for mops! And dignity!"

Suddenly, an army on the brink of collapse was rallying, shouting battle cries so nonsensical that even the Grimm looked confused. "For Swiffer Sweepers!" someone yelled.

Jaune, emboldened by their response, drew his sword—backward at first, then quickly flipped it around. "Let's show them what we're made of!" he cried, charging forward with the kind of enthusiasm reserved for someone who doesn't know any better.

Against all odds, the tide turned.

I still don't know if it was Jaune's accidental charisma or if the Grimm simply gave up out of secondhand embarrassment, but we won that day.

[An Excerpt from The Wooden Demon Chronicles: The Missteps and Miracles of Jaune Arc.

Chapter 8: When All Seemed Lost... Enter Jaune Arc.]

—X~X—

Cinder knelt before Salem in the grand, eerie throne room—a place that practically screamed "doom and gloom." Black smoke curled around the marble floor, and the ever-dimming light of the flame sconces gave Salem an ominous, otherworldly glow.

"Why have you summoned me, my Queen?" Cinder asked, her voice dripping with feigned respect. She tried not to shiver under Salem's piercing gaze, which was like a laser slicing through her soul.

Salem, seated on her imposing throne that looked more like a gothic nightmare, waved a pale hand, addressing Cinder as though she were a particularly dim-witted child. "Child," she began, her voice as smooth and cold as a winter wind, "Jaune Arc. He's managed to create a forest in the desert, hasn't he? Quite a feat."

Cinder hesitated. Compliments weren't exactly common in these halls, and when they came, they usually dripped with an undercurrent of malice. "Yes, my Queen. His… uh, prowess is…" She fumbled for the right words, deciding to settle on safe territory, "unimaginable."

Salem raised an eyebrow, her crimson eyes narrowing dangerously. "More than me?"

Cinder felt the air leave her lungs. This was the question—the one no minion ever wanted to answer. Her mind raced as she plastered on her most convincing smile, though it probably looked more like a grimace. "Oh, no, no, no, no!" She waved her hands like a child trying to convince their mom they didn't break the vase. "Not more than you, my Queen! You're… unparalleled, unmatched! Truly a beacon of power and… uh… elegance!" She winced as the words tumbled out, realizing she was now dangerously close to overdoing it.

Salem's unimpressed sigh echoed through the chamber, making Cinder want to sink into the floor. She gestured to a table beside her, where a small, test-tube-like container sat. It was filled with a brown, viscous liquid that appeared to move on its own, almost as though it were alive—or, worse, thinking.

"This," Salem said, her tone heavy with authority, "has the power to neutralize Jaune Arc. Ensure that it mixes with his blood, and he will no longer be a threat to us."

Cinder picked up the container gingerly, as if it might explode. It twitched in her grasp, and she nearly dropped it. "Of course, my Queen. Consider it done."

As Cinder retreated, bowing repeatedly like a broken wind-up toy, a soft, gleeful giggle echoed from behind the throne room door. Triyan, Salem's "favorite" chaos-loving underling, peeked in, grinning like a child about to ruin someone's birthday cake. He watched the scene unfold with barely concealed glee.

As the door clicked shut behind Cinder, Triyan leaned against the cold stone wall, tapping his chin. "Ooh, so the Queen's making it hard for her knight to reach her, huh? How… interesting. What do they call it? 'Tsundere'?"

His grin widened. "Oh, the things I could do to make this even better. What's a little carnage without some fun?" His eyes twinkled mischievously. "And maybe… just maybe… something brutally romantic?"

The thought sent him into a fit of giggles, his mind already brimming with delightfully chaotic plans. Whatever Salem's intentions, Triyan intended to spice things up.

—X~X—

The Bullhead hummed steadily as it cut through the desert sky, its interior filled with an oppressive tension that Jaune desperately wished he could dissolve into. Unfortunately, the source of that tension was glued to his side—Weiss Schnee. Or was it Weiss Sick? He wasn't entirely sure anymore. What he was sure of, however, was that her flirting was going to be the death of him.

"Oh, Jaune," Weiss purred, leaning closer to him, her voice like silk dipped in honey. "I must say, this rugged look you've got going on—it's so… intoxicating."

Jaune paled. "I-I don't think 'rugged' is the right word—"

"Nonsense!" she interrupted, batting her lashes. "You're like a handsome outlaw, a rebel in a world of conformity. I can see it now: you and I, ruling Remnant together. A modern fairy tale!"

"Fairy tale?!" Jaune's voice cracked as he tried to scoot away, but the seatbelt trapped him in place.

Winter Schnee, seated opposite them with her arms crossed, narrowed her eyes. Her usual frosty demeanor was now outright arctic. "Weiss," she snapped, her tone like a whip. "Restrain yourself. You're embarrassing the family."

Weiss waved a hand dismissively. "Oh, Winter, don't be so cold. It's not every day you meet your fiancé."

"Fiancé?!" Jaune yelped, his voice going up an octave.

Winter's glare sharpened into something that could cut steel. "He is not your fiancé. Father's delusions do not dictate reality."

Weiss smirked, undeterred. "Father is a visionary. He sees the potential in alliances. And Jaune here—well, he's the perfect candidate." She placed a hand on Jaune's arm, making him flinch as though her touch might summon Grimm.

"How… how did it even come to this?" Jaune muttered, his head dropping into his hands.

The memory hit him like a slap. Jacques Skin—was that his name? No, it was Sick. Definitely Sick—had waltzed into Jaune's peaceful village after hearing rumors about Weiss's infatuation with the so-called Demon King. His arrival had been about as subtle as a charging Ursa, and his "proposal" was even worse.

"Mr. Arc," Jacques had said, adjusting his monocle. "My darling Weiss has taken a liking to you. A match between us would benefit both our families. You'd gain the support of my Dust Company, and I'd… well, I'd gain influence with you."

Jaune had tried to refuse—politely at first, then desperately. But Jacques had dangled a tempting carrot: his help in clearing Jaune's name. Not that Jacques actually believed Jaune was innocent, but the deal was enough to get the villagers to begrudgingly agree.

And yet, as Jaune prepared to leave the village, Velvet had looked angrier than he'd ever seen her, and Ruby… Ruby had been downright weird. She wouldn't meet his eyes and muttered something about "betrayal."

Now, here he was, stuck in a Bullhead with his "future-wife" and "future-sister-in-law," heading to Shade Academy for some mysterious invitation he barely remembered accepting. The faunus villagers had practically shoved him onto the Bullhead, leaving Oogway in charge of the forest while Jaune was gone.

Weiss, blissfully unaware of Jaune's misery, leaned closer again. "Oh, Jaune, imagine the ballads they'll write about us. The Demon King and His Snow Queen. Doesn't it sound romantic?"

Jaune turned to Winter, silently begging for help. She pinched the bridge of her nose, exhaling sharply. "Weiss, if you do not behave, I will drag you back to Atlas myself. And don't think I won't."

"Oh, lighten up, Winter," Weiss replied, a playful smirk on her face. "You're just jealous because no one's writing ballads about you."

Winter's icy glare could have frozen the sun. "At least I don't cling to delusions."

Jaune's head fell back against the seat, and he stared at the ceiling. "Why does everything in my life turn into a circus?"

Weiss giggled. "Because, darling, you're the star of the show!"

Jaune groaned. He wasn't sure if he'd survive the ride to Shade, let alone the Academy itself.

—X~X—

The Forest of Death was as creepy as its name suggested. Towering trees twisted unnaturally toward the sky, their branches like skeletal fingers reaching for some unseen prey. The underbrush rustled with unseen horrors, and the air was thick with the stench of damp earth and something Yang really didn't want to identify.

Lisa, however, seemed unbothered. She was crouched near a grotesque creature—a rabbit with six eyes and two tails—fiddling with her scroll. "Hold still, bunny monster," she muttered, snapping a photo. "This is so going in my Nature's Nightmares album."

Yang crossed her arms, watching Lisa with a mixture of annoyance and mild disgust. "Why are you even taking pictures of these things? You planning to open a haunted zoo?"

Lisa didn't even look up. "Documentation is important, Yang. How else are we going to convince people we survived this horror show? Plus," she added with a smirk, "they're kinda cute, in a 'definitely-will-eat-your-face' way."

Yang rolled her eyes. "Right, because nothing screams cute like venomous frogs and murderous bunnies."

They continued through the forest, Lisa stopping every few feet to snap more pictures, Yang trailing behind and occasionally swatting at bugs the size of her hand. The deeper they went, the stranger—and more disturbing—the wildlife became. A bird with glowing red eyes screeched at them from above, and a three-headed lizard skittered across their path, making Yang jump.

"Why did we let Blake go alone again?" Yang muttered. "Oh, right, because we're the idiots."

Lisa didn't respond, too busy zooming in on a squirrel-like creature gnawing on a skull. "Say cheese, you little nightmare," she whispered.

Yang sighed, shoving her hands into her pockets. "You know, I wouldn't be surprised if we ran into a—" She stopped mid-sentence, her eyes widening.

Ahead of them, a girl dangled upside down from a massive tree, wild vines wrapped around her like a cocoon. Her dark hair hung limply, and her face was pale, barely visible beneath the tangled mess. Her mouth moved weakly, her voice a faint whisper. "Help… me… somebody…"

Yang's jaw dropped. "What the—?"

Lisa froze, her scroll still raised. "Oh. My. Dust," she breathed. "This is perfect!" She aimed her scroll at the scene, her finger hovering over the capture button.

"Lisa!" Yang snapped. "She's dying, not posing for a photo shoot!"

Lisa lowered her scroll reluctantly. "Fine. But only because I'm pretty sure those vines are alive."

Yang took a step closer, squinting at the girl. "Wait a minute… is she wearing—?"

A sudden movement to their left made them both freeze. Yang turned slowly, her eyes widening further as she took in the sight: a python. No, not a python—a monster. Sixty meters, easily, its body as thick as a tree trunk, coiling and uncoiling as it slowly swallowed a deer whole. Its unblinking eyes, cold and calculating, were locked directly on them.

"Well, that's… comforting," Yang muttered, taking a cautious step back.

The girl hanging from the tree moaned weakly, her voice barely audible. "Help… me…"

Lisa, for once, seemed at a loss for words. "Uh, Yang? Do we… do we fight the snake first or save the girl first?"

Yang clenched her fists, her fiery gauntlets sparking to life. "We save the girl. Snake gets a beating if it tries anything funny."

"Right. Good plan," Lisa said, clearly unconvinced. She glanced nervously at the python, which was now licking its lips—or whatever pythons have after swallowing an entire deer.

Yang stepped forward, her fists glowing brighter. "Hang on, kid," she called up to the girl. "We've got this."

The girl groaned weakly again, but this time it almost sounded like, "...You don't… got this…"

Gillian's situation was the definition of "screwed." Twelve hours of hanging upside down like a human piñata had taken its toll. Her aura kept her alive, sure, but it wasn't doing much for the blood pooling in her head or the absolute humiliation she was enduring. Oh, and the sixty-meter python was still there, lazily munching on what looked like a six-legged deer as if it had all the time in the world. Because apparently, it did.

She had officially given up hope. That was, until two women appeared from the tree line. Or at least, Gillian thought they were women. They looked more like escapees from the nearest mental asylum, with the wild-eyed determination of people who'd made very poor life choices and somehow doubled down on them. The cat on the brunette's shoulder looked like it was sticking close to them for entertainment.

Gillian squinted. One was blonde, clad in gauntlets that sparked with fire, and clearly operating on raw confidence. The other, a bespectacled brunette, seemed more interested in snapping pictures of the monstrosities around her than actually helping. "Oh no," Gillian muttered to herself. "I'm going to die, and these lunatics are going to be my last memory."

The blonde started climbing the tree, her movements surprisingly agile. "Hang on! I've got you!" she called out, her voice annoyingly chipper for someone scaling a deathtrap.

Gillian's horror deepened as the python watched the scene unfold with what could only be described as amused indifference. The beast didn't move, as if to say, Oh, let's see how this plays out.

And then, against all odds, the blonde actually managed to reach her. With a triumphant yell, she swung her flaming gauntlets and sliced through the vines binding Gillian. "Got you!" the blonde exclaimed, a proud grin plastered across her face.

But before Gillian could celebrate her freedom—or warn her would-be savior—the python slammed its massive head into the tree. The impact sent a violent shudder through the trunk, and the blonde girl lost her balance with a startled, "Whoa—!"

Gravity did its thing. She plummeted, arms flailing, directly toward the forest floor—or, more accurately, toward the gaping maw of the python, which had unhinged its jaw in a disturbingly enthusiastic welcome.

"YANG!" the brunette yelled, her voice laced with panic. Gillian now recognized her—Lisa Lavender, the news anchor. Because of course the universe thought adding a reporter to this chaos was a good idea.

The python gulped down Yang with an audible glurk, before curling up smugly, as if it had just won a bizarre eating contest. Lisa, utterly unfazed, adjusted her glasses and continued snapping pictures like she was at some twisted wildlife documentary shoot.

"My comrade in arms is dead! Swallowed whole by the abomination created by the Demon King Jaune Arc!" Lisa announced dramatically, holding up her scroll to ensure her "live reporting" caught every second.

"Meow." The cat meowed.

Meanwhile, Gillian, newly freed, attempted a graceful landing from the tree. Instead, she misjudged the height, smacked her head spectacularly against a root, and tumbled into an awkward heap. Any thoughts of running for her life were promptly canceled as exhaustion and blood imbalance took over, leaving her sprawled on the ground.

The python, still lazily digesting its "meal," hissed softly and began slithering toward her, its eyes gleaming with predatory intent. Lisa, still recording, muttered, "This is Emmy material, for sure. Tragedy in the wild, starring me."

But before the snake could close the distance, something inside its stomach moved. The bulge that was Yang stretched, twisted, and kicked with surprising force. The snake hissed in pain, its coils spasming as the movements intensified.

Inside, Yang stretched her arms. "Oh, come on, big guy. You thought you could handle me? You're not even the weirdest thing I've been inside this week!" With a deafening retch, the python gave one final heave and spat Yang out in a slimy, bile-covered mess.

Yang stood there, dripping in saliva and glaring at the snake. "Ew. Gross. This is worse than that time Weiss—never mind." She flicked some goo off her gauntlet, muttering, "I am never making fun of her getting swallowed again."

The python, seemingly offended by the insult to its culinary prowess, lunged forward in fury.

"Alright, you overgrown garden hose!" Yang roared, igniting her gauntlets with a dramatic flair. "Round two. Let's dance!"

The ensuing fight was pure chaos. Yang delivered a devastating uppercut that sent the python's head reeling, followed by a series of flaming jabs to its body. The snake retaliated by coiling around her, but Yang broke free with a fiery burst that scorched its scales.

"Oh, you want some more?" she taunted, dodging another lunge and delivering a spinning kick to the python's jaw. The snake hissed furiously, only to be met with a thunderous punch that knocked it into a tree.

Lisa, still recording, whistled appreciatively. "This is gold. Absolute gold. A masterpiece of modern heroism!"

"Are you kidding me?!" Yang snapped, wiping snake goo off her face. "You did nothing to help! We're supposed to be partners!"

"Sacrifices must be made for great reporting," Lisa replied, completely unbothered. "And your sacrifice has elevated this story to greatness."

The python, now thoroughly humiliated and battered, decided it had enough. It hissed one last time before slithering away at top speed, disappearing into the dense foliage like it owed Yang money.

Yang stood there, panting and coated in sweat and snake bile, glaring at Lisa. "You owe me a dry cleaning bill. And a therapist."

Lisa only grinned, holding up her scroll. "Oh, the viewers are going to love this!"

"Meow."

"Even Winston agrees!"

Gillian, watching all of this with barely-contained disbelief, promptly lost consciousness.

—X~X—

Nicholas Arc entered Beacon Academy, and chaos instantly followed. As a once-famous hunter turned reluctant celebrity, he'd expected a few curious glances. What he hadn't anticipated was a full-scale swarm. Students gawked, whispered, and then charged.

"Mr. Arc!"

"You're Jaune's dad, aren't you?!"

"Is it true you made your son kill thousands of Grimm single-handedly when he was five?!"

Nicholas stopped, utterly overwhelmed. "Wait, what?"

"The Demon King Jaune Arc!" someone yelled. "The Warlord of Vacuo!"

Nicholas rubbed his temples. "The what? My son? Jaune? The kid who can't boil water without burning it?"

The students were relentless, brandishing scrolls for autographs. Some even threw out questions like, "How do we train to become Demon King-level warriors like him?" or "Does he still wear bunny pajamas at night?"

Nicholas thought back to everything he'd heard so far about his son. The sheer absurdity of it all made his head spin:

What Jaune Caused, According to Gossip, not just social media, mind you:

1. Declared War on Remnant: Apparently, Jaune gave a rousing speech about justice and immediately declared war against injustice. He has indirectly formed his own cult, these people have their own website.

2. Killed the White Fang Leader: Word was that Jaune obliterated Vale's most dangerous White Fang operative in a duel. They say Jaune had tried take over the White Fang.

3. Groped women in public, showing how manly he was. A predator.

4. Attacked Beacon: During a crisis, Jaune supposedly launched an all-out assault on the Academy, taking on everyone, espeically assaulting young women. He also stole underwears of thirty girls. Word is that he killed and ate students during the initiation.

Killed Ozpin: Somehow, the goofy farm boy had fought Ozpin himself and left the man gravely injured. Some say Jaune scorch-branded Ozpin's butt. It said: 'But-no-butt'.

5. Fought Thousands of Grimm: He supposedly took down an entire Grimm horde in Vacuo, no backup required. He took no prisoners, eating a few bewolves.

6. Built a Forest in the Desert: Against all odds, Jaune had created a thriving, magical forest in the middle of Vacuo's barren wasteland. The forest had trees that could move, multi-headed animals a fuit that smelled too much like urine.

7. Has conquered half of Vacuo and is going to declare himself the emperor. Vale is his next target followed by Menargie.

The whole Arc family was taken into custody and have been thoroughly interrogated by hunters. Lavender, he knew, had secretly sneaked in Jaune's room before the cops had showed up and did something.

After they were freed of charges, he had checked Jaune's computer to find a clear browser history and a pile of burnt magazines.

He has firmly asked her why she had done what she had done.

"I am just being a good sister who will be mentioned at least in a footnote of the 'Saga of Jaune The Best Arc'!" She had replied.

Lavender was too naïve. And idiot.

Nicolas was still processing when he spotted two familiar faces nearby—Glynda Goodwitch and Peter Port. "Finally," he muttered, shooing off the mob and heading toward them.

"Glynda! Peter! What the hell is going on? Why does everyone think Jaune's a warlord? He's terrified of spiders!"

Glynda winced, clearly reluctant to explain. "Well… it's… complicated."

Nicholas squinted at her. "Complicated how? Is he okay?"

Peter laughed, slapping Nicolas on the back. "Oh, your boy is more than okay! He's become a legend, my good man! A true warrior of the people!"

Nicholas groaned. "Peter, the last time I saw Jaune, he tripped over his own shoelaces trying to chase a chicken."

Before Glynda could stop him, Nicolas added, "I'm here to meet Ozpin. Maybe he can clear all this up."

"Wait—!" Glynda began, but it was too late. Ozpin appeared, carrying an oversized flask of coffee. He locked eyes with Nicholas, his expression unreadable.

"Ah, Mr. Arc," Ozpin said. "I've been expecting you. Please, come with me."

Nicholas shot Glynda a look. "See? No big deal." He followed Ozpin to his office, completely unaware of Glynda's growing anxiety. Whatever she was hiding, it was about to come to light.

Nicholas sat across from Ozpin in the headmaster's dimly lit office, a steaming flask of coffee between them. He raised an eyebrow, folding his arms. "Alright, Ozpin. Spill it. What's going on with my son? And why does the whole world think he's some kind of warlord?"

Ozpin sighed, rubbing his temples. "Nicholas, what I'm about to tell you may sound… unbelievable. But I assure you, it's the truth—or at least, part of it."

Nicholas leaned back skeptically. "If this is some convoluted excuse to cover up a prank he pulled, I'm not buying it."

Ozpin ignored the remark, his expression turning serious. "Jaune is special. More special than you could have imagined. He's… destined to save the world."

Nicholas blinked. "Come again?"

"I believe Jaune Arc is the child of prophecy," Ozpin continued, his tone grave. "A golden-haired warrior destined to bring peace to Remnant in its darkest hour."

Nicholas stared. Then he laughed. Loudly. "My Jaune? You've gotta be kidding me. The same Jaune who ran away from home to sneak into Beacon because he couldn't pass the entrance exams?"

Ozpin's lips twitched, almost as if he was trying not to smile. "Yes, the very same Jaune Arc. But there's more to him than meets the eye. I can't share everything—not yet—but trust me when I say that your son has a role to play far greater than any of us can imagine."

"Alright, hold up," Nicholas said, holding up a hand. "You're telling me my son is some kind of chosen one? Destined to save the world? From what, exactly?"

Ozpin hesitated, clearly choosing his words carefully. "Let's just say there are forces in this world… ancient forces… that threaten the very fabric of our existence. And Jaune, whether he knows it or not, is integral to stopping them."

Nicholas frowned, his mind racing. "And you didn't think to tell me this earlier? Before the world started calling him a warlord?!"

Ozpin took a sip of his coffee, his face unreadable. "The truth can be dangerous, Nicholas. If everyone knew Jaune's importance, it would put a target on his back. For now, it's better if people believe what they will."

Nicholas leaned forward, narrowing his eyes. "So, you're telling me my son—who can barely cook a decent meal—is secretly some kind of saviour, and you're just… letting him run wild in the desert?"

"He's not running wild," Ozpin said calmly. "He's preparing. And from what I've heard, he's doing quite well."

Nicholas groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose. "This is insane. Absolutely insane."

Ozpin offered a small, reassuring smile. "You'll see, Nicholas. In time, Jaune will rise to the occasion. He always does."

Nicholas muttered under his breath, "Whatever, I am going to this 'Forest of Death' and give him the TALK."

—X~X—

The Shade Academy loomed large and imposing beneath the bullhead, its sandstone towers reflecting the golden hues of the desert. Jaune Arc fidgeted nervously in his seat. His palms were slick with sweat, his wooden armor feeling heavier with each passing second. Would they try to kill him here, too? Like in Vale?

He glanced at Weiss, who was practically glued to his side, her pupils slightly dilated and her movements unnervingly suggestive. Damn those drugs. "Jaune," she purred, resting her head on his shoulder. "I just know you'll charm everyone here."

He tried to slide away, only for her to cling tighter. "Great," he muttered, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "Exactly what I needed today."

As the bullhead touched down, the accompanying Atlas bullheads landed in a precise formation nearby, their soldiers disembarking with mechanical efficiency. Winter Schnee, standing rigid and radiating authority, barked orders to her underlings.

Outside, two figures awaited their arrival.

Headmaster Theodore stood tall and broad, his frame like that of a retired gladiator who still kept up with his gym membership. His sun-kissed skin, scruffy beard, and piercing green eyes gave him the air of a seasoned veteran. Clad in a sharp yet casual outfit that mixed practicality with flair, he radiated confidence. At his side stood Xanthe, the Academy's second-in-command, a statuesque woman with short platinum hair and a no-nonsense expression. Her sharp, angular features and golden eyes made her look like someone who could cut you down with a glance—and might enjoy doing so.

As Jaune descended the ramp, Theodore stepped forward, arms open in an exaggerated gesture of welcome. "Jaune Arc!" he boomed, his voice echoing. "The man, the myth, the legend. A good boy doing splendid things. Destined for greatness."

Jaune blinked. 'Was… was he mocking me?' His eyes darted to Theodore's smiling face, then to Xanthe, who gave an imperceptible nod. Is this some new assassination technique? Death by compliments?

Meanwhile, Xanthe's gaze shifted to the Atlas soldiers, her golden eyes narrowing. "Why," she drawled, her tone icy, "are there Atlas soldiers here?"

Winter stepped forward, her jaw tight as she saluted begrudgingly. "Jaune Arc may soon become the SDC's son-in-law," she bit out. "Our presence ensures his safety. Try nothing funny."

Weiss giggled, twirling a strand of her hair. "Oh, Winter, you're so dramatic."

Jaune sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. He glanced at Winter, who was visibly restraining herself from committing war crimes on the spot.

Theodore clapped his hands, his booming laugh cutting through the tension. "Let's all take a deep breath, shall we? No need to start a skirmish in the courtyard. Come, let's discuss this like civilized people in my office. Xanthe, make sure everyone stays relaxed, won't you?"

Xanthe's eyebrow twitched, but she stepped aside, gesturing for them to follow. "This way," she said curtly.

As they headed inside, Jaune whispered to himself, "Why is my life like this?"

As Jaune and his group made their way through the bustling halls of Shade Academy, the air grew thick with tension. It wasn't just the heat of Vacuo making Jaune sweat; the students lining the corridor looked ready to pounce. Their eyes glinted with a mix of disdain, curiosity, and outright hostility. It was like walking into a lion's den, except the lions were hormonal teenagers with grudges and questionable maturity levels.

"Outsider!" one boy with neon-green hair shouted, pointing dramatically as if Jaune had just stepped on his cat.

"Monster!" a girl chimed in, clutching her bag tightly like Jaune was going to steal it.

Jaune flinched as the accusations rained down. "Monster? Really? I don't even have horns or scales," he muttered under his breath.

Then came the pièce de résistance: a lanky boy with a ridiculous mullet stood in the middle of the hallway. He locked eyes with Jaune, sneered, and—to Jaune's utter horror—turned around and slapped his own butt. Loudly.

"That's what I think of you, you freak!" the boy declared, his voice dripping with self-righteous indignation.

Jaune froze, his jaw dropping. "Did… did he just insult me with his ass?"

Weiss clung to his arm, still oddly cheerful thanks to whatever concoction was making her act like a lovesick kitten. She giggled. "At least they're creative. I'd give that a seven out of ten for theatrics."

Winter, however, was less amused. Her piercing blue eyes scanned the students, her expression colder than the peaks of Solitas. "Anyone else wants to slap their posterior for attention? Or are you all done embarrassing yourselves?"

The crowd quieted a little under her icy glare, though a few bold ones still muttered things like "freak," "wooden demon," and "lustful menace."

One particularly daring girl hissed, "We don't need your kind here, Arc! Go back to your forest and roll in the mud!"

Jaune sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose. "Yeah, because that's exactly what I do in my spare time—roll in mud. Very accurate."

The murmurs continued as the group pushed forward. Xanthe, who had been walking just ahead, finally had enough. She turned around sharply, her voice slicing through the noise like a blade. "Do I need to remind everyone here that Shade Academy is a place of learning, not a zoo? You're acting like wild animals."

That shut a few of them up, though one bold boy whispered, "He does look like a zoo exhibit."

"Thank you!" Jaune exclaimed sarcastically, throwing his arms up. "Now I can add 'zoo animal' to my list of insults today. Really boosts the old confidence."

Weiss giggled again, tightening her grip on his arm. "Don't worry, Jaune. I think you're very… primal. In a good way."

Jaune turned beet red. "Not helping, Weiss."

As if things couldn't get worse, a tomato sailed through the air from somewhere in the crowd. It missed Jaune by inches and splattered against the wall.

Weiss gasped, horrified. "Who throws food?! That's perfectly good produce!"

Winter snapped. "Whoever threw that, step forward now, or I will personally drag you to Headmaster Theodore's office!"

The students froze, none of them brave enough to own up to the crime. The hallway was eerily quiet for a moment until Weiss whispered, "I could've caught that tomato, you know. And then… fed it to Jaune. Personally."

Jaune groaned. "Please stop talking."

The ordeal finally came to a halt when they reached Theodore's office doors. Jaune paused, taking a deep breath to calm his nerves. "Well, that was… something. Think we'll survive the next hallway?"

Winter glanced at him with a deadpan expression. "Doubtful."

Xanthe, standing beside the door, smirked slightly. "Welcome to Shade Academy, Arc. Hope you're ready for more… warm welcomes."

Jaune muttered under his breath as he followed them inside. "I'd rather face a Grimm swarm."

—X~X—

Emerald and Mercury nervously wove through the bustling crowds of Shade Academy, doing their best to blend in. The cacophony of students, laughter, and arguments didn't make their mission any easier—or less nerve-wracking.

Cinder, in her infinite madness, had handed them a vile, wriggling brown liquid in a syringe. Their orders? Inject the Wooden Demon, Jaune Arc, with it. Easy, right? No. It was the farthest thing from easy.

Emerald glanced at Mercury, her voice a harsh whisper. "Why does this guy need a whole syringe of evil rotten pineapple juice? He's already terrifying enough!"

Mercury smirked, though his sweaty brow betrayed his nerves. "Cinder's orders. Unless you want to hear another one of her 'disappointed-in-you' speeches. You know, the ones where her eyebrows do that twitchy thing?"

Emerald shuddered. "I'd rather wrestle that guy."

And speaking of that guy… Jaune Arc, the supposed clumsy idiot, had somehow managed to create an entire forest in the middle of Vacuo's unforgiving desert. Not a small oasis. A. Whole. Freaking. Forest.

A student carrying a history book passed by, muttering in awe, "First a warlord, now a landscaper. Is there anything he can't do?"

The whispers didn't help Emerald's nerves. She gritted her teeth as they approached a hallway where the legendary Wooden Demon was supposedly holding court—or tripping over his shoelaces. She wasn't sure which.

Mercury nudged her, pointing. "There he is. The anomaly himself."

Jaune stood in the center of a cluster of disgruntled Shade students. He wore his usual goofy expression, scratching the back of his head nervously as a girl yelled at him for accidentally stepping on her bag.

"Sorry! Sorry!" Jaune stammered, bowing repeatedly like a guilty puppy. "I didn't see it there. Honestly!"

But the real kicker came moments later. Someone had strategically left a banana peel on the floor, and Jaune—legendary Warlord, Slayer of Grimm, and Creator of Forests—stepped right on it.

His arms flailed like a windmill as he slipped, the scene unfolding in glorious slow motion. He crashed to the floor with an audible thud, but that wasn't the end of it.

An enraged student, perhaps inspired by the chaos, threw an arrow. Not at Jaune's head. Not at his chest. No. The arrow was aimed squarely at his backside.

Jaune, still groaning from the fall, saw the arrow at the last second. His attempt to roll away ended with him getting his cloak caught under his own foot.

Thunk!

The arrow embedded itself in the ground, barely missing his rear.

Mercury snorted, trying to hold back laughter. "You sure this guy is an unstoppable demon? He just lost a fight to gravity and almost got harpooned in the butt."

Emerald wasn't laughing. "You saw what he did to the Grimm. He's dangerous, no matter how much of a klutz he looks like. This is just an act."

From their spot in the crowd, they heard a Shade professor mutter under their breath, "This guy… this is the guy who almost destroyed Vale? Really?"

"He can kill everyone in this academy if he wishes," Emerald said nervously. "His Aura reserves are as big as an ocean."

Jaune got to his feet, brushing off his cloak. "Who keeps leaving banana peels lying around? Someone's gonna get hurt, you know!"

A nearby student whispered, "Yeah, you, apparently."

Emerald gulped as she tightened her grip on the syringe. Cinder's warning echoed in her head: Fail, and I'll have your heads on my mantle.

But staring at Jaune—the clumsy, yet terrifying, anomaly—she couldn't shake the feeling that injecting him might be even more dangerous than defying Cinder.

"Alright," she muttered to Mercury, "let's do this. But if he turns into some super-powered pineapple monster, I'm blaming you."

Mercury shrugged. "Fair. But we'll still have to deal with Cinder afterward. So... pick your poison."

—X~X—

Author Note: Things get more serious, sort of. Dattebayo.

Thanks for reading this chapter. The next chapter will be released soon.

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Till next time!