Jaune couldn't help but notice how different this arena was to the Beacon school arenas. While it was very similar, being roughly 30 feet in diameter and relatively flat, there were several key differences. The rubber concrete material that made up the floor at Beacon had been replaced with hard packed sand. The actual out of bounds space seemed larger, meaning there was a smaller area to actually fight in. It felt very reminiscent of the stereotypicalized and Hollywood depictions of old Mistral gladiatorial rings.

Thunder rang in the distance, and the soft pattering of rain had started long ago. Jaune liked the rain, it was calm, soothing. It betrayed a sense of peace in chaos, wellness in turbulence.

He walked into the ring, the familiar weight of his armor doing nothing to impede his movements. He moved as though it wasn't there at all. Bolin was already there in the center, standing next to professor Hart.

He looks rather smug. A note with no small amount of disdain in his voice. I look forward to wiping that smirk off his face.

Jaune met them in the middle, stopping a few feet away. He met their eyes with a steely gaze, as if he was challenging them to say anything. Hart cleared his throat.

"Alright, I am assuming you all know the rules, right?" He asked the two of them. Bolin nodded, while Jaune just gave him a blank stare.

There were rules to this? He asked, thinking back to his fights against Cardin. Those really didn't seem to be any rules then.

Just don't kill him. B sighed as Jaune nodded to the professor, lying to him. But sure, he wouldn't kill him. Easy enough.

Aw. A was very disappointed. Jaune stepped back to a respectable distance as professor Hart left the ring. Bolin leveled his staff, aiming it at his foe. Jaune drew one of his blades and matched the blue themed monk. An air horn blew, signifying the start of the battle. But Jaune and Bolin did not engage each other. Instead they circled around waiting for an opportunity, any sign of weakness to engage on. Jaune let his blade drop slightly, and that was all it took to start the fight. Bolin leaped forward, covering an impressive amount of space. His bo staff swiped at the ranger, hoping to knock him in the head. Jaune just batted it to the side with a flick of his own blade, letting the metal almost effortlessly deflect the blow. A light counter was sent Bolins way, but was diverted by his forearm. A metal clang resonated from the impact. Jaune raised an eyebrow as he took a half step back, signaling a disengagement.

He has some actual armor on. He mused as Bolin attempted another strike. Good for him.

It's so rare to see other people use armor. B thought as Jaune effortlessly deflected the blow and its follow up. Another strike was made, this time a thrust towards Bolins gut made threatening with a lunge forward. The blue monk was forced to take a large step backwards, effectively disengaging with the armored ranger. Jaune stepped back, resuming his previous position. Bolin growled as he shifted the grip on his staff, wielding it like it was a sword or a bat. A heavy handed blow came forth, with the intent of breaking Jaune's defense. The blonde ranger couldn't help but chuckle to himself as he swung his sword low to counter, letting the two heavy lengths collide with a whack. He could feel the reverberations of the strike through his thick metal gloves. Reversing momentum, Jaune swung again. The overhead blow would have been devastating had Bolin not managed to bring up his staff into a blocking position above his head. The monk gave a kick to Jaune's gut, punishing the opening. He took it, letting the monk's foot hit his plated armor. If he wanted to kick a metal plate, who was Jaune to stop him? He retaliated by knocking his foe back with his sword, the crossguard catching Bolin in the throat. His aura flashes blue as he tumbles to the side, gagging from the hit. Jaune stood back, letting Bolin regain his balance. The blue monk growled in frustration at the blondes aloofness. "You could at least take this seriously." He snarled at Jaune with bared teeth.

Jaune tilted his head. "Why?" He asked, genuinely confused as to why. It was just practice, and even then not like he needed practice. Lord knows he got enough practice in the Dream. Bolin jumped into combat, attacking with reckless abandon.

Sun shook his head, smiling wide from the side lines. "Damn that was cold!" He laughed loudly, his body shaking with the force. Arslan gave him a small glare for his disrespect. "This isn't a sports bar, Sun." She hissed quietly at him. "Don't be so loud."

"Yeah yeah." Sun waved her off, leaning forward to watch Jaune block attack after attack from the monk, often gripping his sword with the blade to provide additional stability with each interception. He pivoted around, driving the aggressive Bolin in circles as he rotated through his open space. Nadir was also invested in the fight.

"Nadir! You're actually paying attention to the fights for once!" Rheese said, leaning over onto his shoulder. "Why don't you ever do that for my matches? Huh?" She pleaded with him. He batted her away with his hand.

"He hasn't moved." He noted, watching Jaune aloofly play around in the ring. The rest of team AMBR blinked at him, confused.

"No, he's clearly moving. He's dodging and stuff." Rheese pointed out. Arslan shook her head, understanding what Nadir ment.

"No, no, look at his legs." Arslan pointed out. "Look at his footprints." The lioness pointed out at the imprints in the sand. "He hasn't moved his right leg at all. He's just been pivoting around him." Rheese squinted, trying to see the faint and muddied foot prints. Jaune's own boots were rather noticeable, and had indeed a very limited range to them. Reese winced slightly as said heavy footed man caught Bolin in the leg, his aura rippling rather brightly. That must have been a rather hard smack. She thought with a grit in her teeth.

"I guess he hasn't." She admitted, noticing that he really hadn't moved much at all. Jaune swooped and stepped and swung, letting Bolin's river of blows break upon him like a rock. Left, right, right, overhead block, Jaune went through the motions of combat with his blade. Bolin jabbed and swung, doing his best to breach the defensive position the ranger had created. He had started to lash out with his free hands and legs, adopting a much looser and more flowing style. Jaune batted away a punch with his blade and side stepped a kick, letting it plant itself into the ground. Bolin was parallel to Jaune now, face to face. The monk smiled, apparently seeing a nice broad opening to take advantage of. He angled his bo staff up at the ranger's chin, throwing it upwards in a similar motion to that of a spear. It shot forward, aiming dead on to strike Jaune up side the jaw.

CLANG!

The blow was stopped short by the sudden appearance of a shield. Jaune let out a held breath of relief. That was close. He thought, thanking AFDA for the snappy reactivity that Reeds Regret had. It had unfurled within a split second. That was just enough to stop the butt of the stick from colliding painfully into his jaw. He made a light clicking noise.

That was really too close. Maybe he's better than we give him credit for. Jaune thought to himself, warning not to get over confident. With a shove, he knocked the blue monk away.

"A good try." Jaune said with what he thought felt like a smile, trying to be helpful and encouraging. That was a thing good people did, right? "You almost had me there." That only made him angier. With a rather feral sounding roar, he ripped into the rangers defense, clawing and slamming away at it with his bare aura infused fists. Jaune was slightly taken aback, expecting a repetition of the disengaged engage dance they had been dancing up until now. His shield was rocked back and forth as he found himself struggling to keep a solid defense. A particularly harsh blow sent his shield arm flying to the side, out of position for Jaune to block the following blow.

"Hraaaag!" Bolin yelled out as he thrust his open palm, infused with his river blue aura, into Jaune's face.

It was like he had just taken an entire tidal wave to the face, sending shockwaves through his body. The world flashed and spun for a moment, sending Jaune stumbling backwards from the inertia. He quickly came too, but the damage had already been done. Bolin had already succeeded.

He had taken a step back. What was once a normal, if not trivial action turned into a great challenge by this weirdo Jaune. Bolin snorted, self assured that this was a surmountable challenge. Something that he could overcome. He wasn't quite sure what he was so worried about-

The ranger's brow furrowed in slight confusion, causing Bolin to take pause. Jaune tasted blood in his mouth. Oh, damn, he hit me harder than I thought he did. He thought as he checked his teeth. Nope, none of them were missing or loose. His tongue flicked out, tasting at his lip. Yep, there is blood on there, he confirmed, So that means… His hand went up to his nose, touching it lightly. His metal glove felt cold on his skin. It came back dripping with a familiar red liquid. Holding it up to the light, he watched it drip down the metal plating of his glove, dropping onto the ground.

"...interesting" Jaune finally said, the room dropping several degrees in temperature. That or he had suddenly become incredibly frightening, setting off the fight or flight responses of everyone in class. No one was quite sure which was the reason for the sudden goosebumps they had. Arslan closed her eyes, focusing her semblance into existence. She looked at the battle, wondering if Jaune was projecting his aura to an absurd degree.

"Oh." Jaune wasn't projecting aura.

He was bleeding it. Or, at least she thought he was bleeding aura. The miasma he projected spread out like oil, covering the arena with a sickly yellow color Arslan associated with infection and pus. It crept through the world, ripping and corroding away the gray plane. It was unlike anything Arslan had ever seen before. Aura often, when projected, radiated like light did, losing potency as it projected in an even sphere.

This? This grew in creeping tendrils and cracks, moving as though it were alive, conscious. Alone. Jaune rolled his neck, popping it with a loud series of cracks. It was exasperated by the silence, but even then felt unnaturally loud.

"I fear I have done you a disservice, Bolin Hori." He said as he squared his shoulders. While he was undoubtedly taller than Bolin, Bolin had up until this point seemed to take up more space. He had his shoulders squared and his confidence reigning.

But now? Jaune seemed a giant in the ring, towering over those that even sat in the upper seats felt small. Oddly drawn to him, their attention was captured in his gravitational well of power. "I had underestimated you-" Bolin, seeing that Jaune was monologuing, took the opportunity to try and catch him off guard. Jaune raised an eyebrow, gripping the handle of Glassvain at his side. He let the pent up lightning energy arc through his arm, charging his blow with static.

Arslan blinked as she saw the shade of yellow darken and become more vibrant at his arm. As though he was channeling a power as potent as sunlight.

Jaune slammed the pomell into the aggressor's stomach. Bolin was frozen still for a moment from the electric shock, his nervous system being overloaded from the magical static. The human body has an interesting reaction to electrical shocks like that. It triggers the nervous system, sending rampant and random signals through the body that often leads to every muscle contracting rather quickly. In short, the human body will practically throw itself flying away from any source of electricity strong enough.

Bolin had just become a fine example of this phenomena. With the slight stench of cooking skin, he skidded across the sand with soft thuds, sending clouds of sand out everywhere. Jaune twisted his neck, sending out a series of pops through the vertebrae.

"That is not a mistake I will make again." Jaune hunkered down, assuming a position one might take if they were in a hundred meter sprint. His limbs sparkled with electricity as he forced the swift energies to bend to his will. Air and lightning coiling around his legs as the storm outside turned from a light nuisance to a foreboding torrent. It was as though the very world was raging against such a violation of the natural order. Lightning did not belong in the limbs of man, after all.

Good thing I'm not a man then. Jaune thought to himself as he took off from that position. The crowd could not tell if the thunder crack was from the storm outside or Jaune breaking the sound barrier. The sand exploded behind him in a plume of dust as Bolin was blitzed with blinding speed. Glassvain flew out of its sheath as Juane made his approach. The blue monk got bodied as Jaune slammed into his blade first, sent tumbling into the dirt. Digging his feet into the sand to slow his momentum. He kind of wanted to just bounce off the walls for the rebound, but rules were rules.

Stupid rules. A grumbled as Jaune turned on his heel, shooting off back in Bolins direction. Bolin didn't even have a second before he was bulldozed again into the ground. He growled as he grabbed his staff. He was going to be ready this time. The irritable ranger would fall. Jaune turned, already moving at a rapid pace, to rebound for another strike. Bolin threw his staff down, into the legs of the ranger. Jaune felt his feet catch on the stick, and fell to the ground. He hit the ground and skidded from his sheer momentum.

B snorted, shaking his head. Saw that coming. He chastised Jaune. He rolled his eyes, moving to get up.

I was moving really fast, ok? Not like I could just stop and step to the side. Was the elected response. Bolin, upon seeing an opportunity to turn the tide of the battle. He jumped on the ranger, doing his best to pin the larger man to the ground. They wrestled, there being flashes of blue aura as they tossed and tumbled, Jaune thrashing at the small monk on his back. While Jaune was larger, Bolin was far more experienced in hand to hand combat with actual human beings. The ranger was quickly subdued, forced into an uncomfortable pin. He wriggled around like a snake, but Bolin was firmly seated on top of him.

"Don't even bother." he spat, tightening his twist grip on Jaune's arm. "You can't get out of this. The match will be called soon."

Jaune just raised an eyebrow, smirking slightly.

"You know Bolin, we are but men." he said as the magical energies he often associated with earth and stone started to build, strengthening his muscles with the affinity of a long forgotten warden, slain in the dream some eons ago. "I have always found mankind to rise to a foolish challenge."

Bolin tilted his head, very confused as to why Jaune was spouting this nonsense now. He couldn't feel what Jaune was feeling. He couldn't feel the magic starting to course through the rangers veins, imbuing the muscles with the force of mountains. He did feel Jaune twist his arm, feeling him up for something. His hand patted his ribcage, clearly not what he was looking for. He made his way up, blindly fumbling his way to his face. Bolin leaned back from the wandering hand, but the long arm of the law was just too long.

Well, not really the law. A countered. It's just our arm.

Yes, because the long arm of the Jaune sounds so much better. Jaune thought as he finally felt the distinct features of a human face. He smiled, turning his pat into a bone squeezing grasp. With a huge wrenching motion, Jaune slammed Bolin into the ground, head first.

The crowd gasped as Bolin was thrown like a rag doll across the floor. Arslan was watching the fight with her mouth open the entire time. She could see things that they couldn't, and right now it felt like she was looking at a Van Gough painting while tripping on acid. He was bleeding colors, shedding a full rainbow of colors. He bled shards of bright yellows and dull browns and fervent greens. She was sure that she was catching flies with her mouth, but who could blame her? She was seeing something new, something impossible with her own two eyes. This man, this ranger, had brought color to her monochrome world of souls. He was painting it with a reckless abandon, bleeding into the world. Arslan had to rub her eyes to just make sure she was not hallucinating. Lo and behold, Jaune was still there, a metaphorical plague upon the world around him. The colors consumed with fever, widening the painted rift that he spun into existence. She watched his arm coat itself in an earthy, almost dingy brown color, a holographic mass of bulging muscle overlapping his own. It was as though he was donning some form of armor, or placing someone else's arm over his own.

The starburst pattern Bolin left was an indication of what exactly that power must have done. Jaune pushed himself up, dusting himself off. He picked up Bolins staff, holding it out in front of him, examining the reinforced wood. He nodded, apparently approving of the weapon.

"Catch." He commanded, his words striking like thunder. They promised death. A promise that was made acutely threatening once he spun the rod, turning to wield it like a javelin. It flew from his hand like a sniper shot, cracking into the sand mere inches away from Bolin's body, quivering in place like an arrow. The monk stared at it, wide eyed at how close he had been to getting hit. Bolin let out a heated breath, steeling his resolve against the sudden boss fight. Jaune casually grabbed Glassvain, gently holding it as though it were some white walking cane he was brandishing instead of an instrument of war. Jaune shifted his grip on the weapon, letting the blade fall into its limp whip form. It snapped as Jaune cracked it at his foe, the metal clattering against the staff's defensive position. He brought it back and swung again, making a wide arc with his hand. The whip followed suit, carving through the air as it honed in on his foe. Bolin blocked this too, ducking away from it and letting it sail over his head. Jaune flicked his wrist, retracting it back into a sword. Bolin raised an eyebrow, seemingly offended that Jaune would put himself at such a disadvantage just to boost his own ego.

The ranger took a breath in, concentrating the magic. He had done a pretty good job so far in harnessing it, although it was in more subtle forms. Here he wanted something a little more intensive. He let his hand lightly run over the flat of Glassvain, pouring the burning, smoldering and energetic energies from his gut onto the blade like oil. Red miasma, like liquid flame, dripped onto the sword's blade. It caught, the metal turning ablaze where Jaune let his fingers roam.

Bolin took back his anger, letting it be replaced with poorly disguised fear. The blade dropped once more, its burning segments separating into their individual inches wide cordings. Jaune swug again, letting it snap forward in almost a thrusting manner at the blue monk. Fire licked and trailed close, leaving a tracer behind. Bolin dived to the side, letting it pass him once more. He did not expect to be hit by the rebounding retraction to smack him in the back of the head. He winced, letting out a sharp gasp as he was cracked in the back of the head.

"Gah!" He said as Jaune went for swing three. Bolin batted it to the side and advanced. One thing about whips is that they had a very specific range, and moving in or out of that range made it almost useless. He ran forward, taking deep calming breaths as he focused his aura. Arslan leaned forward, not really surprised that Bolin was using his specialized technique, Falling Delayed Blows. A style derived from the river, it had been taught since man was fighting with just steel swords and shields. A technique that was the inverse of her own. While Arslan's favored technique was to push your aura out in front of you, magnifying the force of the blow.

Bolin's was the opposite, letting the aura follow the motion to make a second impact instead of one big one. Bolin called it a rain, an interesting play of words considering the derivative of the technique's name. The monk's staff bit to the side, forcing Jaune to twist Glassvain to the left to deflect it. The ranger lunged forward, aiming to viviscent the blue monk into two bits. He felt his ribs get hit by a blow that wasn't there. He stumbled to the side. Bolin slammed another blow into Jaune's chest, barraging him with strike after strike, turning the discombobulating opener into a full three course combo. Jaune raised his arms, using his shield as he went into a defensive shell position. Each Aura infused 'Shadow' blow was always a lot stronger than Jaune thought was really fair, each blow rocked him slightly. He knew he was going to end up with bruises after this, and he was going to end up with a lot worse than just bruises if this kept up.

There's a pattern. B pointed out. His aura flows in a circle, looping over and over again. But it must come to a close, as all circles do.

Jaune nodded, moving his shield to block the onslaught to blows. Left, right, right, left, on it went. I just need to find the ending. He thought as he looked for his opening. He gave ground, waiting for the circle to finally close. It finally did come to an end when Bolin went to slam the butt of his staff into the rangers forehead.

There it is. The circle's closing. Jaune knew it was the end. He snapped his fist forward, punching Bolin square in the nose. He could feel the flesh crack under his knuckles as he sent the monk onto his back foot. Jaune followed up the stunning blow by just bodying him with the shield. Bolin stumbled back, trying to regain his balance from the strike. Jaune shook his head, grabbing the monk by his blue black hair and pulling him down.

An armored knee rose to meet him, in particular his forehead. Bolin could feel his brain get rocked by the blow, and he saw thunder and heard stars. Concussed, he just kind of stood there swaying for a moment. One Jaune used to channel some mana into his shield. The temperature of the room actually dropped this time as rime and frost started to form on the metal. His hand felt numb from the cold frost, but it didn't matter.

Bolin was going to feel it a lot worse than him. With a grunt, Jaune backhanded him with the cold metal, delivering a blow that would have normally sent a man onto his ass. But Alas, poor Bolin had more attached to that strike than most would have thought necessary.

The frost magic came to life with the motion of Jaune's arm. It flowed and formed into a pillar that sprung from the ground, pointed directly at Bolin. It shot forward, bluntly impaling him in the gut. He soared across the battlefield like a rag doll. But Jaune wasn't done. The fight wasn't over yet, after all.

No one was dead.

Jaune started jogging up to the cap of the ice pillar, using it as a launch pad to propel himself into the air. He could feel the lightning storm outside. It tugged at the ambient energy, the surrounding mana warping under the storm's influence. Or was the storm warping under the mana's? Jaune mentally shrugged, deciding to not care about it. He let out a breath, and let go of his control.

It was a different experience than controlling it. He just let it flow through him, turning from the paracausal to actual energy. It was potent, powerful, overwhelming like the tide or the sea.

Thunderstruck, shaking the building with a ferocious rancor that left ears ringing. But that was nothing compared to the blinding burning light that came from the lightning bolt. It struck the building, running through the metal roof and the insulating structure to reach that which had called it. Jaune felt like he had just chugged several cups of Saph's 'Potion of Final Cramming', a cursed horrendous concoction of energy drinks, coffee, and what Jaune was pretty sure was bath salts. Might have been cocaine. He wondered if this is what Nora felt like due to her semblance.

No wonder she was so active all the time. He could feel the lightning burning in his blood, charring his insides like a marshmallow. He flung his arms open, giving the powerful lightning a general direction to jump to. That general direction was Bolin, who responded by curling up into a ball and scooching away as fast as he could. He was fortunate that the electricity was more interested in the nearby metal and sand rather than the lump of water and carbohydrate compounds called Bolin.

Not that would save him against the wrath of Jaune. Upon seeing that his prey was still moving, he decided that such an act simply would not do. He snapped out Glassvain, sending it shooting through the air at Bolin. It impaled the ground, firmly planting itself about a foot away.

"Ha! You missed!" he mocked, clearly much more panicked than actually mocking. Jaune raised an eyebrow as he pressed the latch to retract the blade. He shot forward, taking the mere moment of time it took for him to land on Bolin to pull out a spear. The tip leveled down, and he suddenly became a very dangerous, very sharp meteorite falling upon his prey. Like a hawk he fell, his eyes focused on what he intended to run through, on what he intended to end today. The rain provided an ominous chorus, chanting like a funeral mantra.

Bolin looked up at his demise with wide eyes as he suddenly knew death. He held up his hand, as though it would stop Jaune's descent. There was a clattering sound as Professor Hart did their best to stop him, their chain semblance activating. But it would be too late, it wouldn't be fast enough to pull either Jaune or Bolin out of the way. Bolin knew that

Drip.

Drip.

Drip.

The sand was turning red. Bolin had put his hand in front of the blade, catching it without aura. It had cut his skin, of course. It bit into his palm and his fingers, drawing blood freely onto the sand. Dark aura forged chains had attached themselves to the spear and Jaune's limbs, preventing the spear from doing any more damage. Bolin let go, breathing out a sigh of relief that he had survived and the danger had passed. His eyes were still locked on Jaune, wary and untrusting. As though he could and would stab him without warning.

Jaune didn't even know what Bolin was looking at. He wondered if his face was scaring him. He could not tell what expression was on his face. He might have been wearing his normal mask, a face of utter indifference. It might have been a scowl carved from stone. It might have been a wide grin, manic as the devil and tainted with a bleeding lip. Jaune couldn't tell. He gave his spear an experimental tug, testing the chains. Bolin jolted, moving away from the ranger and out of the ring.

Clap Clap Clap clap clap! Someone was clapping. The entire class turned to see who had started such a rambunctious noise in such a tense moment. "Bravo!" The clapper yelled, standing up from the back rows where Jaune normally sat. "¡Bravo, Mi Amigo!" Dr Cortez cried out as he continued to clap for Jaune. "Why, now blow wind, swell billow, and swim bark! The storm is up, and all is on the hazard. But thee, mine own inhorn man? thee becometh the most hazardous st'rm of all known men!" He cackled, moving towards the arena. Hart's eyes narrowed at the audacious approach of the teacher.

"Cortez." he growled, clearly not a fan of his presence. "What are you doing in my classroom?"

"Apparently witnessing the best fight you've had the damn pleasure of overseeing!" the doctor cackled as he hopped the protective fence. "And Jaune! How come you didn't use any of that during our fight days ago!"

Jaune blinked at him. He really didn't have an answer. Maybe he had grown stronger since then, maybe the storm had some unknown property to it, maybe a thousand other things had changed since then. So he just shrugged. Hart sighed, clearly only barely containing himself.

"Both of you, out of the ring. I have an arena to clean up and a student to get to Dr. Roxxanne." they sighed, moving towards Bolin, who had managed to stand up despite his shock. He was ushered out of the arena with a fading 'You ok, buddy?'. The rest of team ARBN was there, waiting for him. His acute hearing tipped him off that Bolin was grumbling about something. "I would have won if he didn't cheat." he could make out rather clearly. Nadir gave some soft response inquiring as to how Jaune had cheated.

"- Dust." was the last word Jaune heard out of them. They faded into shadow and out of earshot, leaving him alone in a crowded room full of murmurs.

Jaune watched them leave, and wondered if he should join them.

And here it is, the fight you have all been waiting for. And man Bolin really got his ass handed to him. That being said, Bolin's not an incompetent fighter and is very capable. Also, some fun things you can do with aura. Something i want to explore a little more than the show did.

I really found myself struggling with this chapter. I could visualize exactly what I wanted it to look like, but the words never quite fitted. I apologize if it suffers because of that.

Looking forward, we should have one more chapter that's a little more ARN focused before we move into the next concrete arc. The first mission Arc should be fun. Jaune gets a new name there, after all. Bonus Sebastian Cortez as an actual character there as well.

Note: Professor Hart's semblance is Chain cast. It creates chains made of aura to attach to solid surfaces and restrict things. They usually use it for this exact scenario in class, stopping fights and death blows. Also, i forgot what pronouns I used for Hart, so they're they/them for now on.

As always, please leave a comment, idea, theory, or really anything else that is constructive. I love reading them and they are often really positive. They're are at least five hundred of you that enjoy reading this, I would love to hear from everyone.