Yo!

Some news about the update schedule of this story (nothing major, don't worry) at the end of the chapter. For now, let's get into it!

Start Chapter 15

The villagers were not terribly pleased with Jaune's idea, but then, he'd not expected them to be.

He was, ostensibly, going to go ride to the Kingdom that had just banished him, and stolen from them, on horseback, and tell the nobles in the capital off for their behavior.

"We don't want to lose you, too, kid," The tailor – Darwin – frowned at him. "You don't need to do this. We can pay that tax. It ain't comfortable, mind, but we've managed just fine the last decade or so."

"Thou should not have to." Jaune shook his head, his noble way of speaking reminding him of just how different his and the people of Oakenshire's circumstances were. How lucky he'd been to be born in a castle, with his every need waited on. "On this, I shall not waver. My brother is… I am confident if I tell him of what it happening here, he will take strides to prevent it. He is an honorable man, that I swear to you."

"Jaune, please," Elaine, their shoemaker, placed a hand on his shoulder. "We… we just lost Marie and David. We can't lose you, too."

The fact that they cared so much for him… it astounded him, truthfully. He had shown up barely a full year ago, and had done so under less than favorable circumstances. He'd complained, and spat in their faces, and yet, even so, they'd stuck by him, calmed him down, and showed him how life outside the kingdom of D'Arc truly was.

And they'd helped him through the process of learning to live that way himself.

…He would repay them. Yes, his reasoning for going on this journey was partially for that selfish reason; because he felt he owed them. He did owe them.

And he was not one to leave his debts unpaid.

"I will return within two fortnight's," Jaune spoke, no longer allowing them to question his decision. "If I am not back by then…"

"Don't say that!" Barker – one of their town's militia members – shouted out, biting down on his lower lip. "You… you're comin' back, got that!?"

He looked around at the faces surrounding him, and he saw in all of them that same emotion that lurked upon Barker's face.

They were scared.

Scared for him.

…

He did not deserve such kindness. Not after how he had treated them.

He would make it up to them. He would get back their earnings, or, if that could not be done feasibly, at the very least prevent any more tributes from being taken.

"Then I shall return." Jaune nodded his head, even as he turned towards Archibald, who had saddled up a horse for him.

"You take good care of Delilah, y'hear!?" Archie huffed out, putting on a show of being more combative than he really was. He was always a blusterer, but a very kind man when one got past that.

Jaune…

He would come back to them. He swore it.

"I will." He told Archie, even as he walked up to Delilah, pet her briefly, and then hoisted himself up and onto her back. She skittered for a moment before settling, and Jaune reached into the pack on her side for an apple, which he allowed her to partake of before they made any movements. "Everyone… thank you."

And with that, he pulled back on the reins, turned Delilah around, and was off down the long road.

/

He rode for what felt like an eternity. The countryside of the D'Arc Kingdom wasn't particularly expansive, but trying to cover it on horseback was not exactly the easiest thing to do. It was a green but hilly region, and more than that, its surface was adorned with rocks, and crags, and dips and ditches.

It was rather dangerous territory for a horse to be traveling through, and Jaune had to take a much more cautious route because of it.

The most direct path into the D'Arc Kingdom was unavailable, cutting straight through those environmental problems he'd just mentioned. He ended up snaking his way around the long way, and arriving on the doorstep of the D'Arc Capital some two or so weeks later.

He just hoped the people back at Oakenshire wouldn't worry too terribly much. He was likely going to be longer than he'd initially claimed, having not properly accounted for the obstacles in his path.

Even peasants from outside the country were allowed within the D'Arc Kingdom's capital, or, at the very least, the lower ring, where the peasants stayed. The capital counted on it, in fact, in order to boost trade and keep the economy stimulated.

The guards at the gate only checked to make sure he had no weapons upon him, and once they had, they let him through.

Magic, of course, was a weapon, but then, every human in the world carried that to some degree.

Although Jaune's, perhaps, didn't particularly count.

It had been a year since he had last seen the capital, but in that time it had changed significantly. As he had been escorted out the last time, there had been stalls and vendors lining the main streets, peddling their wares. There had been hustle and bustle abound. There had been a life to the city that Jaune had, even then, taken some modicum of pride in.

Now, the streets were all but barren.

Except, of course, for the soldiers. There were at least twenty-five of them in Jaune's sightline alone, and the way the road wound to the left and right up ahead prevented him from getting a particularly good look. That there were that many to be seen…

The Kingdom of D'Arc had changed. And not at all for the better.

Now that he was in, technically, his first order of business was actually finding a place to put Delilah where she would be safe while he went about his business inside the walls.

Luckily, he knew for a fact that there was a stable not too far into the peasant quarter. That was where he currently was, having just entered into the castle town; or, well, that was to say that he was in the quarter largely populated by those that constituted peasants within the castle town of D'Arc. In a place like Oakenshire, the people here would've likely been considered nobles.

Here, they were simply workers. People who kept the Kingdom standing.

They were the most important people in the Kingdom. The lifeblood that allowed the D'Arc castle town to flourish.

And yet…

Where were they?

It was not terribly late. Perhaps it was eight or nine in the evening. There should've still been great processions about, those going into and out of taverns, producing loud merriment; even those simply looking to partake of the evening air.

There was no one. The only people roaming the streets were the guards themselves.

And that struck Jaune as odd.

Almost insidiously so.

Even so, he made his way towards the stable he remembered, and was pleased to find it manned. The woman there nodded towards him in greeting, but certainly seemed to lack the cheer he'd grown so used to as a child.

"What's going on in the city?" He asked her as he allowed her to take Delilah. "It's… quiet."

"Ah, well…" The woman looked around, making sure no one was listening in. "The king's instituted a curfew as of late. There were some groups talking about him and the nobles in a less than savory light, to put things bluntly."

That… so the peasants had begun to question his brother's leadership? But… that didn't make sense! Had his brother simply lost all authority? Had he been stripped of his position, and been made to be only a puppet ruler? Had he always been?

Anything else…

It was an impossibility.

"That'll be a silver a night," The woman said as she came back.

He nodded his head, fetched a few golden coins from his pouch – enough to have Delilah taken care of for months if need be – and handed them to the woman. She was evidently stunned.

"This is…"

"Take care of her well."

"I-I shall, milord."

"I am no lord." He laughed, before turning, and letting his smile fall.

Not anymore.

He made his way towards the upper levels of the castle town in no real hurry. He wasn't even certain he'd be allowed in in the first place. When he came up to the entrance to the upper quarter, or the noble district, as it was sometimes called, he found the gate barred, and a plethora of guards outside.

"Hail," One of them flagged him down as he approached. "State your name and business."

"Archibald of Oakenshire." Jaune lied. "I've come to speak with the king regarding our villages' tribute."

The man looked to one of his allies, and the two exchanged a quiet conversation.

"I'm afraid the king isn't currently receiving visitors at the moment."

"Surely, at least one of his advisors could hear what I have to say," Jaune was, again, lying, given if he was let in, he'd make his way to his brother through hell or high water, but that counted on him being let in in the first place. "I need not trouble the king, but I wish for him to hear–"

"The castle is not currently accepting visitors." The man reiterated, and his voice was far less kind this time. "If you wish, you may state your business to one of us. We will speak with the king regarding it in the near future."

That, too, was a lie. The guards this far out from the castle weren't going anywhere near the structure itself. Those chosen to defend the King, and those chosen to defend the lesser nobles, were an order of magnitude different in status.

This man would go nowhere near the king. But he was attempting to placate Jaune.

That was worth something, at least.

"No, thank you." Jaune pretended to sigh out in defeat. "If the king will not hear my words… then I've nothing to say."

The man nodded, and Jaune turned himself around. He walked for a long while, long enough that he could confirm that no one was following him, and that those from earlier could no longer see him.

Then, he ducked into an alley.

It was time for plan B.

He made his way towards the wall that blocked off the noble's quarter at a brisk pace. He didn't want to seem overly suspicious to anyone that might spot him, civilian or otherwise, but he wanted to make good time all the same. He covered the distance he'd walked back in roughly two minutes, and when he reached the wall, he inspected it for impediments that might hold up his plan.

For as many guards as there were inside the town itself, there were far fewer than there had once been guarding the walls. It didn't take Jaune very long at all to find a portion of the wall that wasn't being patrolled, and he sat about thinking up ways that he could get inside the noble quarter.

He could of course simply climb the wall; there were a variety of different magics that would allow him to cling to the solid stone. Though that would end up putting him on the top of the wall, where he would have to climb his way back down on the other side.

To say it was risky was an understatement; he might as well have advertised his presence to anyone in the immediate area. If anyone spotted him, he'd have nowhere to run.

Which meant that, even if it was going to be a risk, and that he was leaving himself rather open to being discovered later, his best bet was likely…

He channeled in his hands a very bastardized version of the magic that the stone masons of the capital had shown him, when he'd been young and wanting to learn as much as he could about their world. It was, in essence, simply a form of magic that moved what was in front of it. it ignored the weight, and minimized the friction of moving said object as much as it could.

They had used it to craft brilliant marble statues of his parents, of figures of legend, of those who had passed on, but deserved to be remembered.

He was going to be using it to dig a hole.

Thusly, his version didn't need to be quite so precise.

Another benefit of using magic for something like this was that, for all the material that he was moving, the spell made very little sound. It was akin to the sound that would be made if one were attempting to use a pick for the same job, the sound of the stone cracking apart, sailing through the air, or scraping against more stone was all that was really emitted.

It would have been loud if one was immediately near him, but he was using magic to deafen the noise at a long range. Past 5 meters, no one would hear a thing. He still needed to be quick. All it would take to undo him would be someone looking over the side of the wall, or happening to patrol the area he was hanging around.

And frankly, that was something he was looking to avoid.

In the end, creating a hole that went under the wall took only around 10 minutes. That was due in large part to the fact that Jaune didn't really have to be all that careful. It would've taken less time if Jaune weren't so poor with non-dark magics, but alas, he was.

It was also due in large part of the fact that the people of the D'Arc Kingdom had grown complacent. He'd expected that he would've perhaps had to undo magical alarms as he went, or to break through a magical barricade. Instead, he'd only had to go through stone, and the occasional bits of dirt.

And as he emerged from out of the ground within the noble quarter, on the other side of the wall, no one was the wiser.

Immediately, he set about covering the hole that he'd made inside the wall. The one outside he'd have no choice but to leave, but this one, at least, he could cover with a plank of wood perhaps.

Luckily, he found what looked to be an abandoned – or at the very least unattended – shipment of wood. He didn't take any of the wood itself, since that would be obvious, but instead took the tarp that had been resting atop them.

It didn't make for the best camouflage, but hopefully, at a single glance, it would mask the damage that had been done, and stop the alarm bells within the city from being raised.

If it didn't… well, Jaune didn't fancy his chances.

He had little time to question this, however, given that he needed to make his way to the castle in short order. The noble quarter, unlike the peasant quarter, was a lot more like what he'd expected. People were out and about, shouting out with gaiety – and some with irritation – as they strolled down the streets. Occasionally, a man on horseback would go by, or a carriage carrying an entire family.

Jaune had originally been planning on sticking to the shadows, but… well, that was unnecessary. With the amount of people out, he'd have been more suspicious looking like he was trying to avoid being seen.

So, instead, he simply kept his hood up, and kept going down the street. He was bumped into by a drunken noble, who simply sneered at him instead of apologizing. It was funny; in just the year he'd been gone, he'd almost managed to forget how annoying these people could be.

He'd once come down here with one of the scientists from the castle, and something similar had happened.

The noble in question had been so very… crass, up until Jaune had noted that he was the prince.

The man's tone had changed instantly, unsurprisingly.

It was all a game of status to these people. They cared not for their fellow man. Only their own images.

Jaune sighed, annoyed all over again.

He arrived at the castle itself after twenty or so minutes of walking. The castle town was not vast, but it was sizeable, covering around a mile and a half in its totality. As he walked up to the gates, he found them to be, unsurprisingly, guarded.

And guarded quite heavily.

He sat there a while, pondering just what it was he wanted to do. His options certainly weren't plentiful.

And then, all at once, they were taken from him entirely.

He had but a single moment to feel the magical differential closing in around him before something smashed down on his back. The air was taken out of him all at once as he was thrust to the floor below, his face impacting against the stone hard, and blood pouring from his lips.

Someone was kneeling atop him.

He hadn't even the energy to resist as multiple other guards nearby ran towards him, and it was only then that Jaune realized that they'd been aware of him the entire time.

They'd simply been pretending not to be.

"So," A voice above him spoke. "The prodigal son returns."

He couldn't get a good eye on the man who was holding him down. If Jaune had to guess, he was one of the castles' main assassins; someone who specialized in stealth. He'd gone around, waited for Jaune to lower his guard, and then pounced.

Who knew how long he'd been there, trailing him, and Jaune had been none the wiser?

That was it, then.

If they wanted it to be so, he was dead.

There was nothing he could do.

And yet, instead of slitting his throat, the man hauled Jaune up with his arms in chains. He was at their mercy entirely, and being led wherever they wanted him to go.

Jaune's magic that had broken through the earlier wall, and tunneled him into the noble quarter, could have gotten him out of them, but…

Well, he'd have been killed before he could make it far.

"Ah, so it was you, after all."

The voice that echoed out, then, was one that Jaune instantly recognized. He might have not heard it since he'd been banished, but he would not have forgotten it.

It belonged to his brother, after all.

Jaune was forced to kneel by the man standing behind him, thrown to the ground, and with a boot at his spine.

He looked up at his brother, and took in the man's appearance.

He had grown older, of course, as one did when time passed, but it was evident in his face in a way that it had not been the last time that Jaune had seen him. There were lines creased into his skin that made him seem a decade older than he was, and his hair had grown long, unkempt.

Despite that, his crown shone in the moonlight atop his head, and his finery was clearly of the upmost quality. He wore a golden cape, lined with white fur that very well might have belonged to a breed of wolf. His chest was adorned with a shimmering breastplate, and his legs with armor.

That he wore such things outside of battle was an odd thing for Jaune to consider. There was no true reason for him to do so.

But that wasn't currently his concern.

"Caeser." Jaune bit out between his teeth.

"Jaune." His brother spoke evenly, somehow unaffected. "It has been a while. A year, now?"

"Ten months, with exception of a few days in either direction."

"Hm. Thy memory remains better than mine."

The small talk was pointless. Jaune didn't even want to bother.

"Who saw me coming in?"

"I did." The man announced casually. "Though 'saw' is not the correct term. I sensed thee utilizing my magic. Thine own magic upon the winds was familiar. Far too much so for me to simply ignore it as it crested the edges of my periphery."

That his brother was capable of so much both astounded and disgusted him. He could somehow keep the entirety of the D'Arc Castle Town under the gaze of his magic, and yet…

"Tell me, Jaune D'Arc," His brother annunciated every syllable. "Why art thou here? I do believe I was quite clear when last thee stood within these walls that thou were never to return."

Jaune shook his head. "I have come to tell thee that thine nobles are running rampant on the outskirts of the world. They are taking advantage of the people of the countryside; taking tribute from them, but truly? They are robbing them, and granting them nothing in return! I know for certain that such would not be ordered by thee, but the fact that such has escaped thy notice is–"

"It has not escaped my notice." Caeser cut him off. "It was my policy, after all."

Jaune's eyes widened. His breath caught. All at once, it felt like the world was coming down around him.

Beliefs he'd held steadfast to for his entire life cracked, and gave way. A torrent; a flood of emotion poured from out of his chest, and he could do little to stymie its flow.

He'd been denying it for so long, but now, he had the truth from his brother's lips.

This had been him after all.

"Thou… truly did this!?" Jaune yelled, shaking his head, and trying to break himself free from the hold the guards had on him. It was ironclad, however, and he could not budge them. "How could you!? Did our father's words mean nothing to you!? About being a just, fair king!? About how the people of our Kingdom are who we rely upon!?"

"His words?" Caeser spat. "What use are his words to this country's future, Jaune? Our father ran this country at a terrible deficit. By spending so much of our power on making sure even those townships furthest out from us were still protected, he sacrificed much. We grew poorer by the year, and our position on the landscape of this world grew weaker and weaker. The policies I have put in place may not be popular with those on the edges of our domain, but I assure you this was a necessary step to make sure that the Kingdom of D'Arc will stand atop the hierarchy of the Lands of Light for time immemorial."

"The hierarchy!?" Jaune shook his head. "You mean to say that we are still Chief among the Lords of Light!?"

"Of course." His brother smiled. "A title we shan't abandon for such paltry reasons."

"Paltry reasons!?" He raged. "What is a title against the lives of your people!? What is honor when people are sick, and starving, and ravaged by the elements, and they can but call to you for aid, yet go ignored!?"

"Hmph." Caeser sneered. "I see trying to speak to you was entirely pointless."

"Thou…" Jaune clenched his teeth. "Thou art–"

"Thou understand nothing, brother. I shan't ask thee to. This conversation is over. Guards, take him–"

"Father?"

The voice was quiet, almost faltering, and Jaune's eyes were drawn behind Caeser, where a young girl, with flaxen blonde hair and pale blue eyes, stood on the path that led to the castle itself.

He knew her, of course. She had grown quite a bit in the time he'd been gone. She'd shot up like a stalk, growing at least half a foot. Her hair was longer, and her countenance far more noble.

But she was still that same girl.

"Ah, Salem," Caeser's expression changed entirely. Gone was the uncaring visage he had donned before. In its place was the love and affection he'd always held for his daughter. The only thing, it seemed, that still got through to the man beneath the veneer of a king. "Thou shouldst not be outside all alone, darling."

"Oh, father," Salem rolled her eyes. "I am fourteen! I can be trusted to walk the grounds of the noble quarter! Thy worry is unfounded!"

"Yes, well, until thou art an adult, I do not wish for thee to put thyself at risk." He chuckled at Salem's groan. "Now, head back inside? Your father has to have a conversation with someone."

"Who is–" Her eyes widened as she made eye contact with him. "…Uncle Jaune?"

Jaune didn't say anything. Or, well, it was more that he couldn't. The man above him had cast a spell to make it so that he could not form words. The magic showed no visible sign of the strain it took upon him, either, upon his face.

To Salem, it likely looked like he was choosing to remain silent.

He wanted to tell her all of what her father was doing, for she evidently did not know. He would have kept his true nature from her. She had always been sheltered, and likely always would be under Caeser.

"Alright, father." Salem sighed, before reaching up and wrapping her arms briefly around her father's shoulders. "I love thee."

"And I love thee as well, Salem." The smile on Caeser's face was so pure that Jaune could almost forget how dastardly his brother had become.

And that was the last sight he saw as he was hauled to his feet. Salem, walking back towards the castle, ignorant to what was happening. Caeser, his body turned halfway towards the castle, and halfway towards Jaune, staring at him with flat, emotionless eyes.

And the castle he had lived his entire life within, now rotting from the inside.

/

"Weiss?"

She was… out of it.

Weiss wasn't entirely certain as to why. The story wasn't particularly exciting in terms of content, but in terms of what it told her about Jaune, it was gripping.

…at least, it should've been gripping, should it not have been?

Yet her limbs were slack. Her eyes were lidded. She was…

"I'm tired." She noted, but her voice lacked energy, feeling. "I think I'm going to lie down."

"Art thou sure?" Jaune sounded somewhat perturbed. "My story is only just beginning."

"I'm… tired."

Jaune's eyes narrowed. It looked almost like he was leaning forward within his mirror – though, obviously, such was not possible – as he inspected her.

And then, his face paled.

"Oh, no."

Instantly, Jaune's entire demeanor shifted. He began to channel magic in his hands as he swore below his breath, and though Weiss was minorly intrigued, she was far more worried about resting her eyes.

She'd had so little time to relax of late. Would it be such a crime to just… lie back and sleep?

"How could I not have recognized the signs!?" Jaune bit out. "The one species of Grimm that are an actual threat! Hold a moment, Weiss; I shall bring thee back."

"What are you–"

Suddenly, energy surged through Weiss' chest. It felt like she could breathe, like her mind could think. She hadn't even realized that a fog had settled over her brain until it had been lifted, and suddenly she was returned. She let out a gasp, like she'd emerged from under the water, having nearly drowned.

"There." Jaune let out a breath, not of effort, but relief. "That's about all the feeling I can muster. It should have freed thy senses from the Apathy's control. Art thou present again, Weiss?"

"Yes, I…" She shook her head. She needed to focus. "What happened?"

"Those people who passed away in the houses around us, they were not sick. They were drained of the will to live by the Apathy. A species of Grimm that preys on the minds of their victims. Have thee any experience with them?"

"Only vaguely." Weiss admitted, biting down on her bottom lip as she grabbed the still partially wet clothing she'd been drying by the fire, and donned it once more. "Where are they?"

"I've no idea. Obviously around, but if thou want any more than that, then–"

There was a crashing noise at the back of the house, and Weiss felt her stomach dropping in her abdomen as she realized that it wasn't just the sounds of crashing…

But of scratching, and moaning.

"Ah. I do believe we've found them."

She took up Myrtenaster as she hauled herself to her feet, and pointed her blade towards the sounds.

"Should we fight?"

"Dost thou desire to go back out into the cold?"

"No."

"Then we've little recourse. Hopefully, it will be a smaller group – ten or so of them. Any more than that, and… well, we'll cross that bridge when we come to it."

She hummed out in agreement and resignation as she threw herself into the next room.

She'd heard of the Apathy, of course. They weren't a particularly well-understood species of Grimm, largely due to the fact that most everyone who felt their affects died as a result, losing the will to so much as breathe in the end.

The Apathy were an insidious force; they worked without one even realizing it. Oftentimes, they stuck to dark recesses, and affected people around them by virtue of their presence. The jury was still out on what exactly allowed them to do as such; what it was about their physiology that made the very air around them drain the life from people.

But that wasn't important right then and there.

She was far more concerned with the fact that there were a good fifteen Apathy in that tiny house's kitchen, with more spewing out of the path to the basement every minute, than she was anything else.

Theoretically, that was still a salvageable number.

But…

Without even thinking, she summoned her Arma Gigas, and tried to swing. The blade, predictably, caught on the doorframe she was stood within. She swore, but channeled the skills that Jaune had coached within her back within the Branwen camp to shrink her summon to around half the size; the same size she was.

The Arma Gigas cleaved through the left half of the room. She took the right.

It didn't take long to dispatch the Apathy. Whatever they were, they were not combatants. Their long, spindly bodies caved at the slightest bit of resistance, and there seemed to be little if any muscle hanging on their bones. They had not expected to meet any actual resistance, likely because their strange abilities had taken hold of Weiss, before Jaune had rescued her from their clutches.

It was only when they screamed – a shrill, high thing – that Weiss felt some of the effects of their powers strike her once more. She stumbled back however briefly, her eyes glazing over.

Jaune would simply flood her with energy yet again, and she would be back on her feet.

"Stay focused!" He chastised her, and though she wanted to complain that she had little choice in the matter… well, she didn't really have the time. "Check below. If there are more, then we need to cut off the route they're taking to make it into the house in the first place!"

It was probably true, even if she was a bit out of it. As much as she did not want to travel into the basement below, they needed to cut off any further Apathy – please, let there not be more – from making it above ground.

There were more on the stairs, and red eyes glowing in the dark. There were too many for her to cull alone, and there seemed to be hundreds of them below, enough so that their eyes lit the entire space in a dull, lifeless crimson. The thing that Weiss cottoned onto, however, was the fact that a few Apathy had spilled over the wine rack as they had crawled from out of the dark.

Well… if they were going to provide her with a perfectly good method of removing them…

It would be a shame to lose her shelter, but it wasn't like she could afford to stay here with how prevalent they were. She had hoped there were only a small enough number to affect her, but not to force her to leave.

That wasn't seeming particularly likely now.

So, she retreated. She took the wine rack, and ripped individual bottles from off of it, before chucking them down the stairs, and coating the steps – and a few Apathy in the way – with alcohol. Once she felt she had enough, she took the entire rack with the remaining bottles, and threw the entire thing down the streps.

It impacted against one unfortunate Apathy, shoving it back against the stairwell. Weiss primed Myrtenaster, cycled it to its flame cartridge, and unleashed a burst, even as she began running out of the house.

Behind her, she heard the sound of a fire roaring to life. She heard the sounds of the Apathy screeching out in pain.

She cleared the door, and only then did she turn around, and allow herself to take in what she'd done.

Already, the outside of the house had started to burn. That was probably due to the fact that a good deal of the kitchen had already been covered in alcohol from the Apathy splattering it everywhere, and the fact that the entire thing was made of wood, anyways. It wouldn't be long before the foundation broke down, and the entire thing came crashing down.

Unfortunately, Weiss wouldn't have time to appreciate that, because she heard another piercing wail from behind her.

She turned, and her eyes widened to what would have likely been, at any other time, comical proportions.

Because there were more Apathy crawling up into Brunswick. From out of the well just in front of her, and from out of the two or three homes that still stood. There were… dozens of them. Enough that even in a straight fight, Weiss didn't fancy her chances.

"Raise thy blade, Weiss," Jaune spoke to her from off of her back. "Do not go quietly, no matter how terrifying what lies before thee may seem. Search for thy moment, and then make a hasty retreat."

It was as good a plan as any. She took up Myrtenaster, and allowed her Arma Gigas to grow, eclipsing its normal size. Unfortunately, she could hear howling in the distance. More Grimm were on the horizon.

She either had to kill them all, or get to safety.

But would fleeing out into the cold wilds of Anima without any clue as to her direction truly do her any good?

It was as this thought crossed her mind, as this thought passed into and out of her head, that something happened. Something that Weiss had not at all been expecting.

A figure just… appeared in the middle of Brunswick Farms.

They landed atop the snow from some impossible height, as if they'd leapt from the very heavens. They wore a long, black cloak, and were tall and somewhat broad. The figure stood to their full height – likely a foot taller than Weiss, if not more – and turned towards her, entirely irrespective of the Apathy creeping their way towards them.

Weiss' eyes widened at what she saw. The figure… nothing was clear about them. The cloak covered all but a small window of their face, and that was covered by a helmet of what looked to have once been white and gold coloring.

Though it was long since rusted now.

"Who…" Weiss took a step back. "Who are you?"

The figure before her let out a quiet chuckle, and it was a voice that seemed entirely androgynous, one she could make out nothing about.

"For the moment, I am your savior. You needed assistance, did you not?"

It was the truth.

"But, if you wanted something to call me, then how about…"

And even though she could not see the figure's face…

It was like Weiss could hear them smile.

"Cheshire."

End Chapter 15

New character! Who could they possibly be?

Now, about the story. There will be no update on any of my fics next week, because I am taking a break for the Holidays. I will likely return the week after that, but we'll see how I'm feeling. Might wait until January to come back.

Anyhow, if you want, you can skip over that break entirely! If you want to support me, and get access to the next THREE chapters of this story right now, far sooner than they'll release on FF or AO3, then consider checking out my Patron! There's an e in there after the r and before the o. I assume you know what I'm talking about, but FF and AO3 don't like me typing that. It's just website dot com /Deferonz! NO EXCLUSIVE CONTENT WILL EVER BE POSTED THERE, this is only early access, just to be clear!

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