I got a press release at work today about "walk your dog month" encouraging owners to walk their dogs once a day, and all I can think is that some people don't...? I own a border colli. I think she would destroy the house if I didn't walk her three times a day. I already get the most unimpressed of looks if I try and make one of those walks less than half an hour.

Chapter 25

The two of them made good time, Weiss on her horse and Jaune loping beside it burning aura slowly to keep himself going. There was no time to worry about how much that would stand out to her. In the distance, they could hear their pursuers. A hundred or more on horseback was neither quiet nor inconspicuous. Dust was being kicked up like smoke over the trees, and birds took flight en masse to escape them.

"They're persistent!" Weiss shouted, bent low over the reins with her feet digging into the stirrup. If she fell, it would be disastrous. "Why are they still chasing us? It's not worth it!"

It really wasn't. Raven's bandits had a lot of horses in their camp but not enough for everyone, and they still had the camp itself. To pursue this quickly meant they'd not bothered packing it up; some had followed, others had stayed, splitting up their forces. It was a huge risk in a war torn land like this.

So, why take it? Why bother? They were just two people, and Raven had a good excuse for her apparent "weakness" in not chasing them. She could just say she fought Jaune off, but it was the tribe's failures in keeping watch that forced her to abandon pursuit to collect the loose animals. Instead, she'd split her forces up to pursue.

Had her ego been bruised that badly, or did she want more...? Knowing what she did from Master Ren, she might have been like Cinder, desiring the secrets of his scrolls and believing she could master them. If so, the scrolls in his pack were worth more to her than her tribe.

"Maybe she wants you," said Jaune. He didn't believe it, but Weiss might. "You'd be a big deal sold to Menagerie as a prisoner of war. They might think they can barter with you."

"Wukong didn't look interested in bartering," she spat. "More likely they'd just kill me."

It distracted her. Good. Whatever Raven's reasons, they couldn't afford to be caught. Jaune wasn't entirely sure he could beat her one-on-one; the last fight had shown him she was far cagier after her loss to Master Ren. She'd likely throw every single one of her bandits at him first to wear him out or even take Weiss hostage and force him to hand over the scrolls. In a fair fight, he might be able to hold his own, but she would never give him one.

"They can't pursue us forever." Jaune pushed aura through his meridians to refresh and heal his muscles. They were feeling the wear and tear even if his energy reserves were not. Where huntsmen would peel their aura over their skin like a forcefield, he circulated it around core muscle groups and let it bleed into them, suffuse them. The pain began to ease. "The further we pull them away, the more they'll be separated from their camp. They can't afford to chase us forever."

"In theory," Weiss hissed. "They seem pretty determined."

Then there had to be another way to shake them. If Raven was going to chase them forever, then the only option was to take them somewhere she wouldn't follow – somewhere she couldn't follow. Mistral would have been ideal, but that was the opposite direction. They were being driven away from the city.

"The front lines," he gasped. "We take her to the front lines."

"Are you insane? That'll be a raging battleground!"

"Exactly. Raven won't dare follow."

Weiss cursed up a storm, putting her thoughts into furious words that he was sure she'd learned from hanging around military types. The language was a lot more colourful than he would have expected from high society.

"South-east," she eventually growled. "The front lines are to the south-east. But at this angle we're likely to come out right in the middle of it as opposed to coming up behind our own forces – and we don't have any way to warn them ahead of time."

That was a bridge they would have to cross when they got to it.

/-/

"They're turning to the south," one of Raven's men called out. The scouts ranged ahead of the party, their job to track and close the distance – and to distract if necessary. The rest of the party would run them down.

"Keep on them!" Raven commanded.

She preferred travelling on foot, but horseback was necessary at times and any huntress worth her salt knew how to ride. You couldn't always count on vehicles in far flung locations. Even before the war, there had been few road. Horses could move on terrain vehicles could not. They were also valuable and capable of moving and carrying things on their own, making them prime targets for raids. Best part was, if she left villages with a few mares and stallions left over, they could repopulate and provide the group more mounts in a couple of years when they came and raided again.

A sustainable loop.

Not that it's gotten easier since this bloody war, she thought darkly. Recruitment had boomed with deserters flocking to her cause, but she and the rest of her tribe didn't trust them much. They'd deserted once and they could do it again. Can't blame them, though. I'd refuse to fight for a kingdom that didn't give a rat's ass about me until they needed me.

Atlas, Vale, Mistral. They were all the same. And Vacuo, meanwhile, was just happy to be left out the war. Raven would have taken her tribe there if there was anything worth raiding in that forsaken desert.

"Raven, ma'am." Vernal spoke up quietly, bringing her horse alongside Raven's. "Do we have to keep chasing them? Is this worth it?"

"Getting cold feet?" Raven enjoyed the younger woman's indignant scowl. "They mock us, Vernal."

"I don't think mockery is the reason you're chasing them."

"Think what you like. Is it because of what his teacher did to you back in Vale?"

In no small part. Raven growled, fingers tightening on her reins. The weakness she'd felt in that moment when her aura failed and the sword pierced skin had been worse than any in her life. The thought of vengeance warred within her, but it was buried under a thirst to never feel like that again. And what better way to never be so weak than to take that strength for her own? If she could master what he had, she'd be unstoppable. Not even huntsmen could stop her, not even her fool of a brother and his worthless master.

But she couldn't reveal that to her power-hungry people. The tribe lived or died on the idea of being able to challenge the old leader, and no one would be able to if she could control not only her aura but theirs as well.

"The Schnee will bring us millions," she called out, loud enough for everyone to hear. "We'll bandy her between Menagerie and her family, going to the highest bidder. And we'll live like royalty on that kind of money! The Schnee family are worth billions. Even one billion lien split between us will make every man and woman here richer than they could ever imagine!"

A cheer rose up from the crowd. Men whooped and whips cracked, driving startled horses to ever-increasing speeds. Her tribe were simple folk, quick to be roused. Raven preferred it that way to the duplicitous nature of the cities, so filled with lies and avarice and backstabbing. Vernal let the matter go as well. Good. Better the girl focus on herself after she was bested by the very man they hunted.

But a roar in the distance soon injected a healthy dose of fear back into her men.

That was no Grimm, she thought, eyes narrowing. The sound came again, rippling like fireworks, and followed by a lighter staccato. Gunfire, Raven realised. No. They could not be so foolish. It would be suicide.

"Boss!" a man cried out, frightened. He was a deserter. "They're taking us close to the front lines!"

"We can't go there!" another shouted. "We'll be cut down!"

Damn them. Desperation made for foolish gambits, it seemed. Raven's men were buckling faster than a cardboard cut-out in the rain. "It's a bluff!" she roared. "A game of chicken. They want to frighten us. Do you really think they'll ride out into a battleground? If we back off now, they'll skirt it and escape. Keep riding!"

She wasn't sure even as she said it.

The sounds of battle grew steadily louder. Artillery was the most recognisable sound, along with gunfire. Occasionally, an aircraft would whizz by overhead, but that was rare nowadays. Menagerie didn't fight conventionally and most aircraft couldn't make out shit on the ground with all the chaos. They were best for bombing set locations.

The faunus weren't interested in playing to Atlas' strengths like that.

They fought like huntsmen.

There was precious little screaming and sounds of death like all the books made it out to be. Drowned out by mechanised noise, she supposed. Guns, bombs, artillery, machinegun fire, remote explosives. Maybe it was that people died too quickly nowadays. There wasn't much to scream with when your body was torn apart by shrapnel or incinerated via missile payload.

Raven gritted her teeth. The bloodshed was senseless, and that was coming from her. She killed, she raided, but at least she did it for the money – and for the tribe. What did these fools fight and die for? Ideals? Prejudice? Revenge?

Pathetic.

All the while Salem would be rubbing her hands together.

This world truly was doomed, and all the people living on it as well.

I'll live my life for myself, then. Live in as much luxury as I can and die on my own terms. It's not like we can do anything to stop her anyway. Raven urged her horse on, eyes narrowed against the biting wind. If the world is fucked either way, I'll live for myself and do whatever I want. Not like it'll matter.

Raven spied them at last. Their horse was skittish in the fact of all the noise and slowing down, especially as the ground became pockmarked and treacherous. It had to pick its way through – the boy actually being better on foot, for all that he should have been a broken mess struggling to breathe after running so far for so long. Raven drew her sword and readied herself to cut downward. It wouldn't kill him, but if she aimed for his strap then she could claim his pack and the secrets within it.

They were backed up against a ridge leading down into a war-torn wasteland. The only reason the military hadn't taken said ridge was because it was too small, too indefensible toward the side they'd come from. A steep incline down to certain death on one side, and Raven's tribe on the other. Except that her people were too scared to approach. As a one, even Vernal, they halted their charge.

Cowards.

Raven pushed on, driving her knees into her horse's flank. "Hyah!" she roared. "Go!"

The Schnee reached the edge with her horse. The white mare paced unhappily, backing away from the steep drop. The boy looked back, his hand moving to his sword ready to draw. Raven sneered, confident she could best them both as long as she kept him from touching her. She had the advantage of reach from horseback, and she was far more experienced.

He had his gimmicks, but she'd fought people with gimmick Semblances before.

It would be the same.

They realised it, too.

Which was why the boy slapped the horse's rump with the flat of his blade and sent it screaming forward. And why he jumped after, with one last look back to Raven and a victorious grin.

Raven dragged on her reins and pulled her stallion to a stop. It snorted furiously at the rough treatment but did as it was told, stamping angrily at the mud. Raven watched them slide down the ravine into the battlefield.

Fools.

But they were right that she couldn't follow.

I can watch, though. And pick your belongings off your corpses once the battle moves on.

/-/

It was chaos.

Jaune had little trouble maintaining his balance as he skidded down the steep hill, pebbles and chunks of mud spraying out in front of him, but Weiss was much worse off. Her horse neighed and panicked, trying to rear up but unable to do even that. The girl herself fought atop it, shouting what she probably thought were soothing words. She had to shout to be heard over all the noise.

Blasts went off to the south as artillery from Atlas shelled the rough locations of Menagerie forces. Some were distant, the battle stretching on for a good distance, but at least one landed less than five hundred metres from them, shaking the ground and throwing up a plume of rock and fire like a geyser. Gunfire was everywhere but, miraculously, none of it came by them. Likely because they'd only just entered the battlefield and no one had drawn a bead on them just yet. It wouldn't last.

He hoped they didn't mistake Weiss' horse for some cavalry charge from Menagerie.

"You fool!" Weiss screamed. "We're going to die!"

"North for Atlas?" he shouted back, fighting to be heard over the battle. He pointed, just in case.

Weiss pointed the same way, but dismounted her horse, grabbing his rein. Weiss tugged the frightened mare toward a deep hole in the ground that had likely been blasted open by an artillery shell. Jaune hoped the gun had moved on, or they'd be blown to kingdom come. He wasn't sure if aura would be enough to survive being shelled.

Inside the crater, they could hear a tiny bit better. Not much in all honesty, but it was better than nothing.

"We can't be seen charging them!" Weiss said. "If I'm on horseback, it'll look like an attack and we'll be gunned down."

"I can go ahead?" Jaune offered. "You could stay here."

"No." Weiss shook her head. "If Menagerie finds me, I die, and you're an unknown to Atlas. They'd never trust you. At best, they'll arrest and process you back to Mistral, and that'd be after interrogations. They might just assume you're a spy and execute you on the spot. The laws don't matter here; they'll just say you were an enemy soldier and no one will question it."

It'd be the same for the other side. He had a token from Adam, but that was meant to convince people in calmer situations. A general fighting a battle wasn't going to take him seriously when he'd come – in their minds – from the direction of the Atlas battlelines.

"We'll have to go together," she said. "And hope no one from either side shoots at us."

"What if we wave a white flag? Your cloak—"

"The faunus faked surrender in some of the early battles. Atlas followed international law and let them close, at which point they attacked in melee and killed a lot of soldiers." Her answer made Jaune's mouth click shut. "That was before we realised how deadly they are in close quarters. We'd be lucky if they didn't gun us down just to be safe."

"Isn't that extreme?"

"We're coming from the battlefield," she snapped, her temper shining through. "What are they supposed to think? Allies come from behind, enemies come from the front. That's how the lines work. We're approaching them from the front. We'd be approaching either side from the front. Both armies will assume us enemies at this point." Weiss snarled angrily. "That's why I didn't want you running us out onto the battlefield!"

"Raven would have caught us."

"I know! Rargh!" Weiss kicked furiously at a loose rock, sending it arching out the crater. "This is... This is ridiculous."

"Can we make contact via scroll?"

"Secure channels. It's a war. They're not going to take an unsolicited call in a battle, idiot."

Jaune resisted the urge for a snappy comeback. This really wasn't the time for it, and Weiss was probably only this upset because she was afraid for her horse. They had aura and could survive a few hits, but the mare did not. The poor thing's ears were flicked back flat to its head and it was pulling agitatedly on the reins. Weiss was using both hands to keep it from bolting and almost certainly getting killed.

That put a stop to his anger. "You're right. I'm sorry. Let me go ahead and you behind with the horse," he said. "When we get close to their lines, we'll try and pass a message on before approaching. Until then—"

A battle cry sounded behind them. It was a rousing one heralded by a hundred or so more, and Jaune peeked over the lip of the crater in time to see figures vault up from trenches and start running.

"Infantry charge," Weiss hissed. "Of all the times!"

An infantry charge in a battle like this? They were charging entrenched positions; it'd surely be a massacre. An odd sound came from Menagerie's lines. It reminded Jaune of a potato cannon – a loud "phoot" sound repeated over and over as smoking white objects arched up into the air in a steep curve. The arching shots wouldn't take them far enough to actually hit Atlas' lines, and they crashed somewhere in the middle, exploding into clouds of white smoke.

Is that... flour...?

It couldn't have been chemical warfare because the faunus were charging toward it, and they might as well have been helping Atlas if they did that. A smokescreen instead, but Menagerie wasn't a military superpower. It didn't have factories necessary to churn out tanks and guns and smoke grenades.

They were making do with what they had.

"Down!" Weiss hissed, yanking him back by his collar. "It's a smoke assault. They do this all the time. We need to hide!"

The smoke began to waft their way, driven by the wind. It was heavier than air, pooling several feet tall across the wasteland, and then sinking down into their crater. Jaune tugged his collar up to cover his nose. The dust stuck to his skin and clothing. Weiss held a handkerchief over her own nose and another over her horse's.

"Stay quiet," she whispered. "They might charge past us."

Stampeding feet did indeed race past them. Not around, but beyond to the east. Their position on the western edge of the battlefield afforded them some protection, and the Menagerie charge would live or die based on its momentum. No one could afford to stop, and doing so would endanger the rest of the army. They had to close lines with Atlas before the smoke settled.

That didn't mean someone didn't break ranks.

Jaune cursed silently as someone vaulted down into the crater. He pulled Weiss back, hoping against hope that they'd move on and climb out the other side. For a moment, they did just that, running to the far edge and beginning to scale it.

But then their footing slipped and they slid, turning to take the brunt on their back.

The faunus stared directly at them.

And scrambled for his gun.

"Wait!" Jaune shouted, lunging forward. He grabbed the token from Adam and revealed it. "General Wukong sent us!"

The gun was aimed their way but the faunus didn't shoot. He had black hair and the wings of a bat, and hard, suspicious eyes. With the smoke all around, much of it dusting their bodies, they made for hazy figures. Weiss kept her face and distinctive hair hidden behind her horse.

"General Wukong sent us," he repeated. "With a message. He's ranging behind Atlas' army in pursuit of Winter Schnee. He's pushing her into a retreat pattern into our territory and wants you to keep an eye out for her. If we can capture her, it'll mark a change in the war."

It was a bold claim. Bold, but, if this faunus knew Wukong was behind Atlas' lines, not unreasonable. Jaune was banking on the faunus being aware of the fact and thus knowing that anyone who also knew must in some way be trusted with that information.

"Who are you?" the faunus demanded. "What unit are you from? You're not one of Wukong's."

"I work under Taurus. I have proof if you'll see it." Jaune slowly gestured the token in an underarm toss. The faunus nodded and Jaune sent it forward. The man caught it in one hand, only slightly lowering his weapon.

It would have been an opportune moment to attack but for the fact it might alert other faunus. The one before him checked the token and must have seen something good in it because he nodded and threw it back, then slung his gun back over his shoulder.

"Is Taurus nearby?" he asked.

"Afraid not. He's on the western coast, but we won our battle and pushed the lines forward." The faunus might have known that. Probably did, in fact, going by his nod. Another test, then. "I was sent eastward in pursuit of Winter Schnee, who was trapped behind our lines. Adam couldn't afford to send too many after her, but I'm a human trained in the Black Ribbon Sect. I met up with Wukong, who took over the hunt. I was told to come this way and alert the commanding officer."

"Fine. You'll want to head back, then. We're about to finish up here."

"You're that confident?" Jaune asked.

The faunus smirked. "The smokescreen and the charge are just a distraction. We've managed to infiltrate and collapse their eastern flank. Or did you not notice the artillery had gone silent?"

He hadn't.

But it had been quiet for the duration of their conversation.

"Atlas will be routed then," Jaune said, feeling a little ill. Weiss must have been ten times worse. "It's a story repeating all over the island," Jaune bluffed. "We'll have pushed past Mistral before long."

The faunus laughed. "And then we push Atlas back into the sea. See how they like it being forced into confinement on an island." He nodded beyond Jaune. "Who is that?"

"Informant," Jaune lied. "Who's the commanding officer here? General Wukong wasn't sure who had taken over."

"General Belladonna."

Jaune cursed up a storm in his head. "Blake Belladonna?" he asked, hoping against it. The faunus nodded. "I thought she was busy with a naval campaign in Vale. Raiding southern settlements and driving migrants north."

"She was. Finished up. We're lucky to have her." The faunus glanced back. "I need to go. Can't be seen shying away from the fight. You can find her command tent south-east from here. Tell the guards that Yuma vouched for you. Give it fifteen minutes if you like. We'll have silenced the gunline by then."

The faunus – Yuma – turned and scaled the crater's wall, then continued to race toward the Atlas lines. Jaune let out a sigh, stepping back. "We're lucky the smoke hid you," he said. "That was close."

"What was all that?" Weiss hissed. "Those names. How do you know Menagerie's commanding officers!?"

"Not via whatever you're thinking. Blake Belladonna tried to kill me in Vale." That shut her up. "And I expect she'll try again if she sees me here. As for Adam, I arrived on Mistral just as he finished wrapping up his battle. And you know how I met Wukong. Two out of three of them tried to tear my head off."

"Then we can't go with what he said and pretend to be spies...?"

"Not a chance. Blake will kill me. We're going to have to slip by them and into the wilderness."

"Behind enemy lines? On Menagerie's side?"

"We're already behind their lines judging by how this battle is going." There was gunfire ahead, and screams, the first they'd heard, and only audible because the artillery had been silenced at last. Atlas were losing this battle. Weiss paled. "But if you want to hang around until the faunus are all done and come back to check up on us, be my guest."

"T—Their side it is," she said. "But if you turn out to be a traitor selling me out..."

She would what? Curse him as she died? If he was a traitor, she was already dead, and she knew it. Weiss glared impotently at him. "I'm not," he told her. "I saved your sister's life and helped her out of a situation like this, and I'll do the same here." He took a spare cloak out his pack and tossed it to her. "Cover your hair. It's too distinctive. We're going to have to pass by Belladonna's camp to get out, and that means bullshitting our way past their people."

Yet again, he'd crossed the lines of battle, and yet again managed to not get involved. How long could he keep doing that? Jaune wasn't sure. For now, he focused on Weiss, helping her tie the cloak around her head and shoulders like a shawl, and then assisting her in pulling her mare out the crater. Jaune's eyes flicked back to the top of the ridge, drawn by the feeling of eyes upon them. Raven Branwen overlooked the battle, and the two of them, from atop a black steed.

They weren't out of the woods yet.

Next Chapter: 28th January

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