Kaze no Hono
"Flames of the Wind"
Chapter 14
Shadows and Storms
Beacon Academy, Staff Lounge
The grand meeting hall within the academy was a stark contrast to the lively energy that would soon fill its halls. The room illuminated by the soft glow of ornate chandeliers, bore the weight of years of history, its walls lined with shelves of ancient tomes and records. Around the long polished table, the academy's senior instructors had gathered, each donning an air of contemplation as they pored over the documents before them.
Seated at the head of the table, a stern-faced woman adjusted her glasses her sharp gaze scanning the files spread before her. "The incoming students this year are... varied," she remarked, her tone betraying a mixture of curiosity and skepticism. "We've got a handful of promising talent, but as always, there are outliers that warrant discussion."
A silver-haired man leaned back in his chair, a steaming cup of coffee in his hand. "There always are," he mused. "Some will shine, some will struggle, and others... well, we can only hope they don't become liabilities."
Across the table, a professor with salt-and-pepper hair shuffled through the paperwork. "We've had our share of remarkable students," he noted. "Some of the finest Huntsmen and Huntresses came through these halls. Remember the girl? A natural-born fighter."
"The Nikos one?" another chimed in, nodding. "She was a force of nature if there ever was one."
"And let's not forget Schnee," the first professor added, a smirk playing at his lips. "Arrogant, yes, but that boy was undeniably talented. Shame the other twin had favored Altas Academy. Becoming specialists at their young age at that."
The woman at the head of the table, ever composed, gave a slight nod. "Each of them had their strengths. But potential can be a double-edged sword. We've seen students rise to greatness... and others fall to ruin."
The room fell into a momentary silence, an unspoken understanding passing between the gathered educators. The weight of their responsibility was never lost on them.
Breaking the silence, a professor further down the table tapped at a file. "And what about this one? Kiaya Hikaru? Their records are... unusual."
All eyes turned to the file in question. A dark-haired man with a perpetual frown flipped through the pages, his brow furrowing. "His background is vague. No clear lineage, no substantial combat history recorded prior to his applications. And yet, he's been accepted." A few of the professors exchanged glances. The air in the room grew heavier with curiosity and doubt.
"I assume Ozpin had his reasons," the woman at the head of the table said carefully, though there was a subtle tension in her voice. "He has always been one to see beyond what's written on paper."
"That doesn't explain why he was admitted under such ambiguous circumstances," the silver-haired professor pointed out. "We've turned away applicants with more transparent histories before. What makes this one so special?"
The woman adjusted her glasses, her expression unreadable. "I cannot say for certain."
Another professor raised an eyebrow. "Cannot, or will not?"
A moment of silence stretched between them before she spoke again, "Ozpin makes the final call on admissions. If he saw fit to approve them, then we must trust his judgment."
The skepticism in the room was palpable, but none challenged her further. Instead, the discussion shifted, albeit with a lingering air of unease. As the meeting continued, she remained silent, her mind drifting to her brief encounter with the two in question.
She remembered the way Cinder had held herself—poised, unreadable, with a gaze that seemed to assess everything around her. And Kiaya... there was something about that one that unsettled her. A presence that was both enigmatic and calculated. Their meeting had been brief, but it had left an impression.
As the discussion moved on, the weight of uncertainty remained, settling like an unspoken truth among those gathered. The future of the academy's new students was unwritten, but one thing was clear: not all stories ended in triumph. And some, she feared, had already begun in shadows.
Flashback, Previously
The elevator hummed softly as it descended, its dim lighting casting long shadows against the polished steel walls. Glynda stood with perfect posture, her arms crossed as she studied the two individuals before her. There was an air of silence between them, the space within the confines of the elevator thick with an almost suffocating presence.
Cinder stood poised, her expression unreadable as she met Glynda's gaze with a calm, unshaken confidence. There was a certain sharpness in her golden eyes, an edge that suggested she was used to command, to control. The very air around her seemed to bend to her will, a silent challenge hidden beneath her polite demeanor.
Beside her, Naruto stood silently, his expression as still as a carved statue. He was tall, his presence casting a quiet weight that was difficult to ignore. His posture was neither relaxed nor rigid, simply existing in a way that exuded complete control. However, what unsettled Glynda wasn't his posture—it was his eyes. His gaze never left her, yet it wasn't malicious. It wasn't even calculated. Instead, it held an almost trance-like depth, as if staring through her rather than at her.
Glynda cleared her throat and adjusted her glasses, forcing herself to push past the unease. "I take it your meeting with Professor Ozpin was productive?"
Cinder offered a measured smile, tilting her head slightly. "Quite. He's certainly a… unique individual."
Glynda's lips pressed into a thin line. "That's one way to put it."
The elevator continued its descent, the silence stretching between them before Glynda spoke again, her voice calm but firm. "While Ozpin may have seen reason to approve your admissions, allow me to make one thing clear—Beacon Academy is not a place that values reputation alone. Titles and past achievements mean little here. What matters is the ability to perform, to meet the expectations set forth for all students."
Cinder's lips curled ever so slightly. "A fair statement. Though, I would argue that my past titles were not merely given, but earned."
Glynda's eyes sharpened. "Earning a title in competition is one thing. Surviving the trials of a Huntsman is another."
Cinder's gaze never wavered. "Then allow me to prove that I am more than just a title."
There was a quiet battle of wills in the space between them, an unspoken confrontation in which neither woman backed down. Glynda studied her carefully, but found no cracks in her confidence. Cinder wasn't here to be intimidated. If anything, she welcomed the challenge.
A quiet sigh left Glynda's lips. "Very well. Then I trust you'll meet those expectations with the diligence required."
Cinder merely inclined her head, as if the conversation had already been decided in her favor.
Glynda turned her attention to Kiaya, who had yet to utter a single word. Yet, his stare remained unchanged, unwavering. A cold sense of unease prickled at the back of her mind. It wasn't hostility, nor was it arrogance, it was something else entirely.
"Do you have any questions, Mr. Hikaru?" Glynda asked, her voice carefully neutral.
No response. His gaze remained locked on her, unmoving, unreadable. And then—just for a fleeting moment—his eyes seemed to flicker with something else, something distant.
Glynda felt a shift in the air. It wasn't his expression that changed, nor his body language—it was his presence. As if his mind had drifted somewhere far beyond the present, lost in something unreachable.
Then, just as quickly as it had come, the moment passed. Naruto blinked, his focus snapping back to reality. His gaze lowered ever so slightly, and he inclined his head in a subtle, almost absentminded bow. "Apologies."
His voice was smooth and deliberate, yet carrying an odd weight. Not the voice of someone offering a forced apology, but something far more personal. Glynda felt a strange unease coil in her stomach, but she nodded, pushing the sensation aside.
Cinder, however, had noticed. She had been watching Kiaya just as intently, her expression unreadable. She did not question his momentary lapse, nor did she acknowledge it aloud, but Glynda could see the gears turning behind those golden eyes.
The elevator came to a stop, the doors sliding open with a soft chime. Cinder stepped out first, her movements graceful and composed. Naruto followed, his posture unchanged, but Glynda caught the briefest hesitation in his step. As if there was something lingering on his mind, something left unspoken.
Glynda remained standing as they exited, her sharp gaze following their movements until the elevator doors slid shut once more.
She exhaled slowly, adjusting her glasses. There was something about those two—something that didn't sit right.
She would need to keep an eye on them. And she wasn't the only one.
Present, Continued
The other professors had resumed their discussion, scattered documents lying across the grand mahogany table, notes hastily scrawled in the margins outlining the latest adjustments to the academy's curriculum. Despite the general hum of conversation, Glynda felt detached, her thoughts ensnared by the memory of the elevator ride.
She took her seat, straightening the hem of her jacket with precise movements, trying to will away the tension coiling at the base of her skull. Across from her, a fellow professor, Professor Port, cleared his throat. His jovial nature was muted by the weight of the discussion at hand. "Now then, with these new students arriving under… unique circumstances, I do believe we must consider additional monitoring. We cannot allow lapses in security."
Doctor Oobleck, ever the voice of rapid concern, spoke next, his words a blur of controlled urgency. "Agreed! Given the variances in skill levels and the heightened risks associated with unknown variables, an increase in observational measures is not only prudent—it is necessary!" He tapped a page in front of him, pushing his glasses further up the bridge of his nose. "Take this one, for example! A regional champion, yet no public records exist of any official matches! Curious, is it not?"
Glynda resisted the urge to stiffen, knowing precisely to whom he referred. Cinder Fall. A name that had sparked hushed whispers among tournament circles. A fighter who had seemingly risen to prominence and disappeared just as swiftly.
Professor Port hummed in thought. "I would argue that exceptional students have always been a part of Beacon. We've handled prodigies before."
"It's not just talent that concerns me." Oobleck's fingers drummed rapidly on the table. "It's the nature of their arrival. We know so little, and what we do know does not sit well with me."
Glynda finally spoke, her voice even, though internally, the words tasted foreign on her tongue. "Ozpin would not have accepted them if he did not see their potential. He has always had an eye for extraordinary students."
"That does not mean he is infallible," Oobleck countered, his sharp gaze leveling at her. "We are responsible for these students. For their safety. For the integrity of the academy. Are we certain this is the right course of action?"
Silence settled over the table, a weighted pause that pressed against Glynda's composure. Her mind betrayed her, drawing her back to the elevator, to the suffocating presence that had filled the confined space. Kiaya had not spoken a single word, yet something about him had left her rattled in a way she could not explain. It wasn't fear, nor was it intimidation. It was something deeper, more instinctual, a whisper of something she could not yet name.
She had been watched before. Evaluated, judged, measured. But never quite like that. His gaze had been devoid of malice, yet unsettlingly intent. Not the scrutiny of a threat assessing a target, but something else entirely. A familiarity that shouldn't exist. A recognition she did not understand.
"Glynda?"
She blinked, realizing the room had gone silent, all eyes on her. Oobleck's inquisitive stare bore into her, the unspoken question lingering between them. Was this the right way of doing things?
She should have answered immediately. Should have reaffirmed that everything was under control. That Ozpin's decisions, as always, were deliberate and just. That whatever reservations she had were unfounded.
Instead, she hesitated.
The room felt smaller now, the weight of expectation pressing against her chest. For the first time in years, she found herself at a loss, her conviction wavering in the face of something she did not understand.
"Ozpin believes in their potential," she said finally, though the words felt thin. "And so must we."
No one spoke for a moment. Then, slowly, the conversation resumed, shifting to the logistics of extra combat training and security measures, but Glynda barely registered it. Her own words echoed in her mind, looping endlessly.
So must we. She wanted to believe them.
Truly, she did. And yet, the unease remained.
Beacon Academy, Elsewhere
The sun hung high over Beacon Academy, its golden rays cutting through the scattered clouds and illuminating the grand spires of the school. The air was crisp, laced with the scent of blooming flowers from the academy gardens, and the distant hum of student chatter echoed through the courtyards. Yet, beneath this idyllic setting, an unseen presence moved through the shadows with precise, calculated steps.
A figure sheathed in dark attire navigated the academy grounds with the fluidity of a whisper. Their movements were swift but measured, each step placed with a purpose, avoiding the dappled light cast by the midday sun. Surveillance drones patrolled the campus, their mechanical eyes scanning for anomalies, but the figure moved beyond their reach, slipping through their blind spots with an ease that defied explanation.
Approaching the Beacon Academy Security Center, the figure halted, scanning the perimeter. Two guards stood at the entrance, their posture lax, unaware of the encroaching threat. Without hesitation, the figure surged forward. In a flash of movement, a blade found its mark in the throat of the first guard, cutting off any chance of alarm. The second barely had time to turn before a hand clamped over his mouth, a sharp twist of the wrist silencing him permanently. Both bodies were lowered gently to the ground, their weapons still slung over their shoulders as if nothing had happened.
The building's interior was eerily silent. The faint hum of security monitors filled the air, their flickering displays casting shadows against the walls. More guards were stationed inside, their routines were predictable. The figure moved through the corridors like a phantom, every step carefully placed to avoid detection. One by one, the guards fell—some with swift strikes to vital points, others with blades that found their marks before they could react. Their expressions froze in shock, hands gripping weapons they never had the chance to use.
Slipping inside the main control room, the figure stepped over the lifeless bodies of the last remaining personnel. Their postures were still frozen in the semblance of their last moments, eyes wide with shock. The figure paid them no heed, moving directly toward the control panel at the center of the room.
Fingers danced across the keyboard, inputting a series of commands. The monitors flickered to life, displaying a real-time feed of the forest surrounding the relic area. At first, all seemed calm—the trees swayed gently in the afternoon breeze, birds flitted between branches, and the underbrush remained undisturbed.
Then, as if conjured from thin air, a horde of Grimm emerged from the dense foliage. Massive beasts with gleaming red eyes and blackened bone masks prowled toward the relic site, their numbers growing with each passing second. The figure let out a quiet hum, a faint tune reverberating through the silent room.
With a press of another button, the screen flickered, static overtaking the image. When it cleared, the Grimm were gone, replaced once more by an unbroken landscape of tranquil forest. The figure tilted their head slightly, as if admiring their handiwork, before reaching into their cloak and withdrawing a small device.
With a mechanical click, they affixed it beneath the console, ensuring it remained unseen. A soft rustling behind them signaled the presence of another. From the shadows emerged a smaller figure, their eyes gleaming with an unnatural hunger as they took in the sight of the bodies strewn across the room.
"Is it time?" the smaller one asked, a voice laced with eager anticipation. The first figure turned, regarding them with an unreadable expression. A single nod was given.
A wicked grin spread across the smaller figure's face. "Thank you for the meal." As the sunlight streamed through the windows, painting long golden beams across the bloodstained floor, the feast began.
Emerald Forest, Relic Arena
Jaune stood frozen, his body unwilling to move despite every fiber of his being screaming at him to act. His sword trembled in his grip, reflecting the towering figure of the Nevermore as it let out a final shriek before crashing to the ground in a plume of black mist. Around him, his fellow students stood victorious, their faces marked with exhaustion and pride. And yet, all Jaune could feel was shame.
He had done nothing.
His feet had been planted, his limbs locked in fear, and he had watched as his peers fought and conquered without him. He clenched his jaw, pushing back the sting of self-loathing. Then, as if hearing a voice from deep within, his mother's gentle yet firm words surfaced in his mind.
"Bravery isn't the absence of fear, Jaune. It's acting despite it."
He exhaled sharply, his grip tightening around his weapon. His father's voice followed suit, carrying the weight of generations before him.
"The Arc family does not falter. We lead."
A new resolve flared within him. He swore to himself that the next time he faced danger, he wouldn't freeze. He would move. He would fight. Before he could dwell further on his promise, a sudden cry snapped him out of his thoughts. He turned just in time to see a figure bolting from the tree line, urgency dripping from their every movement.
"RUN!" the newcomer shouted, their voice cutting through the stunned silence of the gathered students.
Jaune's eyes widened as the blonde-haired individual emerged into view. He immediately noticed the dark sunglasses shielding their eyes, and his stomach sank when he saw a familiar black-haired figure—one he had taken interest in earlier—call out to the new arrival. He noted the way she looked at him, the concern in her voice, and his heart dropped slightly.
Are they together? He quickly shook the thought from his head. It wasn't the time. A deep rumbling tore his attention away as the ground beneath them trembled. Then, like a living tide of darkness, hundreds of Grimm poured from the forest in a single, nightmarish wave.
Jaune's breath hitched. Fear crept back into his limbs, threatening to root him in place again. He swallowed hard.
He had promised himself he wouldn't freeze again. But how could he fight against this?
He wasn't alone; everyone around him stiffened, their expressions shifting to one of sheer horror. There were too many. Far too many for them to fight.
The blonde-haired student clicked his tongue in irritation. "Tch. This is bad," he muttered. He turned sharply, sprinting toward the gathered students. "They won't make it in time…" he hissed under his breath, eyes darting to the treetops as if searching for someone unseen.
Naruto's breath came short as he cursed under his breath. There was no way the teachers would get here in time. These kids—no, these unprepared, inexperienced warriors—would be torn apart before they could even react.
He had no choice.
His feet skidded to a halt in front of the group, turning his back toward them as he raised two fingers to the side of his neck.
"Seal: Release." The moment the words left his lips, a dark marking glowed beneath his fingertips before vanishing entirely.
Jaune who had been within earshot had no idea what that meant, but as soon as words left the student's lips, something changed. The air thickened and an invisible force pressed down on them all. It was suffocating and heavy—so much so that even Pyrrha, who was standing a few paces away, inhaled sharply as she tensed. As if struggling to stand under the unseen weight.
A floodgate of energy surged through his body, an overwhelming force rushing through his veins, demanding to be unleashed. The air around him morphed. It grew ominous, and waves of pressure radiated from his very being, an unseen weight that bore down upon the others like a storm.
Behind him, the students instinctively took a step back in fear.
Pyrrha's breath hitched, her finely tuned senses screaming at her. Whatever he had just done, it was unnatural. It was overwhelming. It was... wrong.
Weiss stepped back unconsciously, her grip on Myrtenaster tightening. She had felt powerful auras before—her family ensured she was trained in aura manipulation—but this was something else. Something darker. Something she could not understand.
Blake's eyes widened in horror. There was something familiar in this sensation. She had felt something akin to this before, though not quite as potent. The memory eluded her, but her instincts screamed caution.
Ruby was simply stood frozen, her wide silver eyes locked on his back. She wanted to ask what was happening, but her voice refused to come out.
Yang, for the first time in a long while, felt unsettled. The power radiating from this guy wasn't just strong—it was suffocating. Her fists clenched as she resisted the instinct to take a step back.
Jaune felt it too. An unfamiliar power emitted from the student, one that sent a primal shiver down his spine.
Naruto overlooked their reactions. His hands weaved through a series of signs, his fingers moving so swiftly that they were nearly a blur. He brought his hands to his mouth, focusing the blazing energy swelling within him.
To the onlookers the blonde-haired student's hands were a blur of movement, his fingers shifting through intricate gestures that none of them could even begin to comprehend.
'Fire Style: Majestic Destroyer Flame.' He thought to himself. Then, he inhaled deeply, tilting his head slightly before unleashing absolute devastation.
A colossal torrent of fire erupted from his lips, forming a massive wave of scorching, unforgiving flames that roared across the field. The sky darkened under the intense red glow, the surrounding air growing hotter with every passing second.
The inferno stretched far beyond what any normal attack should be capable of. Trees ignited instantly, reduced to nothing but ash within seconds. The ground cracked and blackened, and entire swathes of forest vaporized in an instant. A mile—no, more than a mile—of land was utterly decimated, leaving behind only smoldering remains where the Grimm had once been.
The firestorm swallowed the approaching Grimm whole, their agonized screeches piercing the air before being utterly silenced. The heat was unbearable; even from a distance, Jaune felt the searing wind licking at his skin. The Grimm continued to shriek as they were instantly vaporized, their monstrous bodies disintegrating into nothingness. Even standing behind him, the others felt their skin prickle, sweat forming instantly under the sheer force of the attack.
When the flames finally subsided, silence followed.
The vibrant forest, once alive with the pulse of nature, lay before them in an unrecognizable form. The land had been ravaged, not by the hands of men, but by something far older, something far more eternal. It was as though the gods themselves had cast down their wrath upon this sacred place. What had once been a sanctuary of life, where the sky above wept gentle rains and the earth below hummed with the secrets of ages, was now a barren, scorched wasteland.
The soft murmur of the river, its waters once clear and pure, had been swallowed by the fire, leaving behind only charred beds of rock and the echoes of what could never be again. The animals that once called this place home, whether they took to the skies or burrowed deep into the earth, had fled or perished in the blaze. Their calls, their songs, their quiet rustlings in the underbrush—gone. In their place, a hollow silence reigned, broken only by the crackling of the dying embers and the mournful wind that whispered of things lost.
No mercy had been shown. The fire that had swept through this once-vibrant landscape was not one of nature's doing but of a power beyond comprehension.
The sky above, once a vast expanse of blue and gold, now brooded with clouds heavy with the residue of destruction. A sun, veiled in smoke, hung low in the sky, casting an eerie, diffused light upon the ruins below. The devastation was total. The very air was heavy with the scent of burnt offerings, a smell that would haunt the land for years to come.
Naruto exhaled, his slightly breath was uneven. The sheer amount of chakra used had left him momentarily fatigued, but he quickly steeled himself. He had revealed too much and he needed to fix it. His hand moved back to his neck, pressing against the spot where the seal had been released. He poured a steady stream of chakra back into it, feeling the weight return as the seal reactivated.
Jaune swallowed, his throat dry as he turned his gaze back to the student who had just unleashed the attack. The blonde-haired figure was breathing heavily, his chest rising and falling in slow, controlled movements. He wiped the sweat from his brow before swiftly pressing his fingers back to his neck. A faint glow returned, and with it, that suffocating presence vanished.
Jaune barely had time to process what had happened before the student turned around. And for the first time since his arrival, Jaune saw his eyes through the dim lenses of his sunglasses. Cold, calculating, yet layered with something deeper.
Cinder's voice broke the silence. "You made it." Jaune turned toward her, noticing—for the first time since the battle ended—that she was gazing at the student with something that almost resembled relief.
He frowned slightly. 'Just who is this guy?'
Said student gaze swept across the gathered individuals, lingering on each one briefly before moving on. Wide eyes and stunned expressions filled with mixed reactions of uncertainty and fear. But as his gaze moved to Blake, something within him snapped.
Her.
The recognition was instant. Memories of a previous encounter surged to the forefront of his mind. White Fang. Adam. The battle fought in the shadows. And she had been there. His entire body tensed, his fists clenching at his sides. Jaune didn't know why, but something about that moment felt… off.
Blake, too, seemed to pick up on it as her expression was unreadable as she met his gaze. Pyrrha shifted slightly, her ever-perceptive eyes narrowing as if filing the information away for later.
Naruto quickly dismissed his shock. He couldn't afford to let his emotions slip further. His sunglasses remained in place, masking the storm of thoughts raging beneath. The student straightened his posture as if dismissing whatever thought had just crossed his mind. But the damage was done—the tension in the air was undeniable.
Jaune took a slow breath, forcing himself to relax. The battle was over. They were safe—for now. And yet, as he glanced back at the mysterious blonde who had single-handedly eradicated an army of Grimm with a single attack, he couldn't shake the feeling that things were only going to get more complicated from here.
Naruto exhaled, mentally cursing himself for being reckless. He had hoped to keep his abilities under wraps for as long as possible, but now…
Well, there was no hiding it anymore. As he adjusted his sunglasses, he made a silent promise to himself.
'I need to be more careful.' He took a deep breath and turned away from them, offering only a simple statement: "It's over."
But as he spoke, he knew the true battle had only just begun. And if she remembered him, that was going to be a problem.
Emerald Forest, Elsewhere
The forest, bathed in the dim glow of twilight, stood still as though holding its breath. The wind had ceased to stir the leaves, and the only sound was the faint crackling of distant embers, remnants of a fire long extinguished. In the gathering gloom, the figures emerged one by one, their movements deliberate, each step calculated. They walked as if the earth beneath their feet had no claim on them, their presence disrupting the silence in ways that made the very trees seem to recoil.
"So that was the Demon of the Root. About time he finally showed himself."
The first figure was a man, tall and broad-shouldered, with a face etched in the harsh lines of someone who had seen too much of the world's dark underbelly. His eyes, a piercing shade of amber, scanned the horizon, aware of every shift in the air. The chakra was unmistakable, familiar in a way that unsettled him. His hand instinctively brushed the kunai strapped to his belt, the chill of metal grounding him in the present.
He had been many things in his life—mercenary, soldier, assassin—but it was in the shadowy depths of the Root where his true nature had been forged. His past was a broken mirror of betrayals, truths too dark to acknowledge, and missions too ruthless to recount. But now, as his gaze sharpened at the surge of chakra, he knew the past was catching up to him. And it would not be kind.
From behind him, the rustle of movement signaled the arrival of the second figure. A woman, her silhouette long and graceful against the dying light, stepped into view. The faintest hint of her scent lingered in the air—a mixture of iron and floral oils—before she spoke, her voice like a whisper in the stillness.
"Darryl, did you feel that?" Her voice sliced through the silence, the soft timbre of it like a blade just before impact. "It's him, isn't it?" Darryl didn't answer immediately, his gaze still fixed ahead, but the edge in her tone left no room for doubt.
"Yeah, I felt it," he replied, his voice gravelly, tinged with a mix of dread and resolve. "It's him. And we're not ready for what's coming. Lianna signal the rest of the members."
She stood beside him, her eyes scanning the shadows as she spoke again, quieter this time, a flicker of concern beneath the sharpness. "I knew it would catch up to us eventually. But why now? Why are they here?"
Her presence was a haunting contrast to Darryl's grounded seriousness. Where he was tempered by years of combat, she was like a blade in the wind—sharp, unpredictable, and unsettling. Her long dark hair cascaded like a veil of shadows, her eyes hidden behind a mask of indifference that betrayed nothing of the storm brewing inside her. She had been his comrade once, and in many ways, their fates had been intertwined long before they both parted ways with the Root.
His lips pressed into a thin line, eyes narrowing as he nodded. "I've been waiting for this moment."
Lianna's gaze flicked to the ground where the faintest trace of movement signaled the arrival of three others. They were not shadows like them, not yet, but they would be soon enough. They carried the unconscious forms of Nora and Ren—lifeless, but still breathing.
One of them, a hulking figure cloaked in dark armor, grunted as he set down Ren's limp form. He wiped sweat from his brow, his eyes cold but focused. Another, a tall woman with short-cropped hair, adjusted Nora's fragile body, her hands trembling, though her face remained calm. The third, a wiry man with sharp eyes, took a step forward, his voice harsh as he spoke.
"Why do we keep them alive Jermey?" The question echoed in the air, weighted by disdain. "Why waste time with this... experiment? Why not finish them?"
The man who had been silent up until this moment spoke. His voice was calm, almost detached—like a man who had resigned himself to a terrible fate.
"Because, K.I.," Jeremy replied, his eyes flicking briefly to the bodies they carried, "they are the perfect hosts." He smirked, his expression unsettling. "I plan to use them as vessels for my new... project. A new kind of insect, something that will make every experiment before it seem trivial. Once they've served their purpose, then, and only then, will they be disposed of."
K.I.'s lip curled in contempt as he drew himself up to his full height, towering over Jeremy. "You would desecrate the bodies of these children? That isn't science, it's madness."
The air grew thick with tension, as though something beyond them was watching, waiting. The figures surrounding them shifted uneasily, aware of the impending conflict between the two men. But it was only when K.I.'s hand slowly moved to the hilt of his weapon that Darryl felt the air grow colder still.
With a low growl, K.I unsheathed a shifting sword, its edge catching the last remnants of sunlight. "You're no better than the monsters you create, Samuels."
Jeremy didn't flinch. He simply stared, his eyes cold, calculating. "And yet, I have no qualms about what must be done. You, on the other hand, hide behind your ideals like a fool."
K.I's grip tightened on the sword. The tension between them was palpable, a storm about to break.
"Enough." A voice—younger than the others, but laced with authority—cut through the rising tension like a blade through the dark. The figures turned to face the source of the interruption, and for the first time, a ripple of unease passed through the others.
The younger man stepped forward, his movements precise and unhurried. His hair, silver as moonlight, fell in sharp contrast to the gloom of the forest. The dual blades strapped to his back gleamed, their edges honed to perfection. His ocean blue eyes, bright and unsettlingly calm, locked onto K.I and Jeremy, both of whom instinctively took a step back, their bravado faltering under his gaze.
The rest of the group could only briefly watch as he gripped the hilts of his weapons before he instantly vanished from his spot and appeared between the two men, his eyes never leaving theirs. He pressed both blades to their throats, the glint of steel a warning neither of them could ignore. He didn't need to speak further.
"Test me," the man said, his voice cold as ice. "And see how quickly this situation turns fatal."
Jeremy and K.I exchanged a glance—one of fear, and of recognition. They had misjudged the man. The chill in the air wasn't from the forest—it was from the person standing before them, and it was enough to stop them in their tracks.
The two men slowly lowered their weapons, their eyes never leaving the younger boy, who returned their gazes with a calm that made their skin crawl. For a moment, the forest fell into a heavy silence, broken only by the distant sound of the wind stirring once more.
Darryl, observing the standoff, couldn't suppress a smirk. "Enough of this posturing Schnee," he said, his tone sharp, commanding. "We're wasting time. The students will be making their way back from the relic area soon, and they'll be expecting us. They'll try to help the child before they realize the danger." He paused, eyes gleaming with dark intent. "That will be their last mistake."
Lianna, still glaring at Darryl, raised an eyebrow. "And where's Samantha in all of this?"
Darryl's expression grew colder, his mind already working several steps ahead. "I sent her ahead. She'll stall the students long enough for us to execute our plan. When they come, they'll find themselves caught in a trap."
Lianna's lips twitched upward, a predatory gleam entering her eyes. "Then let's make sure they never leave."
The air thickened with the gravity of the moment. The figures gathered closer, their fates sealed in the shadows they cast. But as Darryl's eyes flicked to the ground where the unconscious bodies of Nora and Ren lay, something deeper gnawed at him—an unease that had nothing to do with the battle ahead.
He turned his attention back to the group. "Let's move out."
But as the figures began to melt back into the darkening forest, Darryl's thoughts drifted to the past, to the memories that haunted him of a boy with an unwavering resolve—Ruko, the man once feared as The Demon of the Root. The one who had always been his equal in ways neither of them could admit.
The past was coming for him again. And this time, it would not be denied.
Emerald Forest, Northern
Sunlight filtered through the towering canopy, cascading down in dappled patches that danced across the moss-covered ground. A soft breeze rustled the dense foliage, carrying the scent of damp earth and distant blooms, the fragrance clashing with the lingering traces of smoke and scorched wood from their earlier battle. The sound of chirping birds mixed with the crunch of leaves beneath their boots as the group moved in near silence, their thoughts heavy, their minds troubled.
Leading the group, the blonde-haired warrior strode forward, the others followed but their pace measured, their thoughts heavy with the memory of what they had witnessed.
As Naruto led the way, his posture seemed relaxed but eyes sharp, scanning the terrain ahead with a keen, predatory awareness. His footsteps were light, and purposeful, betraying the years of experience that had shaped him into the warrior he was now.
Cinder walked closest to him, her golden eyes flickering toward him every so often, filled with an emotion she wasn't sure she understood. That power... She had underestimated him. Badly. What she had seen back there, the raw force he had unleashed, was beyond anything she had expected. And yet, he wielded it with the ease of breathing. The thought unsettled her. How had he become this strong? How much more power did he hide beneath that unshaken exterior?
She hadn't expected what she saw back there. The raw power. The ruthless precision.
The way the Grimm had been obliterated as if they were nothing more than dust in the wind. She had seen powerful fighters before. Had trained under some of the most dangerous individuals. But Naruto… his strength had shaken her.
Cinder's hidden amber eyes lingered on the side of his face, taking in the calmness in his expression, the way his golden hair caught the sunlight, almost burning like a flame of its own.
'Just what are you really, Naruto?' She thought aimlessly. Behind them, the rest of the group trailed at a slight distance, all lost in their own thoughts.
Behind them, Ruby kept her distance, hands tightening around Crescent Rose. While, usually the first to fill any silence, remained uncharacteristically quiet, her silver eyes locked on the back of the blond-haired student. She forced herself to take slow, deep breaths, but the tremble in her fingers betrayed her nerves. She shuddered as she thought back to the field, she had seen destruction before. But never like that. Never with such overwhelming force that it made her feel as if she was nothing more than a leaf caught in a hurricane.
To Ruby, something was unsettling about what she had witnessed. The sheer destruction he had wrought. The power that seemed too vast, too dark, too… unnatural. She swallowed hard, gripping Crescent Rose tighter in her hands. She had fought Grimm, trained to face the monsters without hesitation. But what she saw in Naruto's attack wasn't just power—it was complete annihilation, an overwhelming force that erased everything in its path.
For the first time in a long time, she felt small and helpless. She exhaled, shaking her head. No, that wasn't the right way to think. 'He's on our side.' she reminded herself, but a treacherous voice whispered in the back of her mind. What if he wasn't? A shiver ran down her spine.
Weiss, on the other hand, made no attempts to hide the wariness in her eyes. Weiss walked even further back, her arms crossed tightly over her chest. She kept her gaze locked ahead, but her mind was clouded with unease. She walked stiffly, keeping as much distance as she could between herself and Naruto, her every sense screaming that she needed to be careful. She had grown up around strength. She understood it. She respected it. But this?
This was something else entirely. An unnatural force that defied logic, defied reason. She hadn't even been in the direct line of fire, yet she had felt the weight of it, pressing against her very being.
She had fought powerful enemies before—Grimm, bandits, even trained fighters. But what she had felt back there when he attacked the Grimm… That wasn't normal. The dark energy rolling off him, the suffocating pressure in the air—it was something beyond mere skill or strength. And it terrified her.
Stay away. The words pulsed in Weiss's mind like an instinct for survival itself.
Pyrrha marched in disciplined silence, but her emerald eyes never left the back of the blonde warrior leading them. Pyrrha remained outwardly composed, but her mind was ablaze with questions. She walked a little behind Naruto, her emerald eyes studying his every movement with the keen interest of a warrior trying to unravel a mystery. The way he carried himself, the way he controlled his breathing.
She had met a woman once before, a warrior hidden behind a crow-masked visage, one whose power was just as suffocating as it was shrouded in secrecy. And now, looking at this newcomer, she couldn't shake the feeling that they were connected. She pressed her lips together. She would find her answers.
Eventually.
Who are you? There was a familiarity to him, something she couldn't quite place. Despite her prior caution and against her better judgement, she attempted to reach out with her latent ability, hoping to get even the faintest trace sense of his aura and… there was nothing. It was as if he wasn't even there. No presence, no energy—just an empty void where something should be, yet he walked in front of them with a readied presence.
That realization sent a cold chill through her bones.
Blake, however, was far from composed. She stayed toward the back of the group, her arms wrapped around herself, trying to suppress the unease coiling in her stomach. Her hands clenched at her sides as she kept to the edge, her ears subtly flicking at every sound. She couldn't shake the feeling—the one that had burrowed deep into her the moment she saw him fight.
That power, the sheer presence he exuded… she had felt it before. Not the same, not entirely, but similar. It was the kind of force that crushed everything in its path. The kind she had spent her whole life running from. And now, she was walking beside it. What if I can't run this time?
'Who is he? And why did he feel so familiar?' She shook her head, pushing the thought aside.
Yang, in stark contrast, had no intention of staying quiet. "Alright, Blondie, spill. What was that back there?" To which she received, no response. Yang frowned, undeterred, "Seriously, that was insane! Was that your Semblance or something?"
Still nothing, and now annoyed, Yang crossed her arms. "Oh, come on, don't tell me you're the brooding silent type—"
Cinder cut her off with a sharp glare. "Enough. His abilities aren't your concern."
Yang arched a brow, unfazed. "Excuse me? We just watched him take out an entire swarm of Grimm like it was nothing. I'd say that is our concern."
Cinder sighed, her patience already wearing thin. "As I stated, that's none of your concern. The only fact you should concern yourself with is the fact you are still alive because of Kiaya," she answered, her tone carrying an edge.
Yang stopped in her tracks, turning toward Cinder. "Are you serious? After what we just saw, you don't think we deserve an explanation?"
Cinder turned towards the blonde-haired girl, her tone sharp and challenging, "No. You don't."
Yang scoffed. "Wow. Guess we're just supposed to accept that your new teammate can level a battlefield without question, huh?"
"Yes," Cinder replied smoothly, her lips curving into a smirk. "That's exactly what you're supposed to do." The tension between them was palpable, and Jaune watched in silence, his fingers curling into fists. He had been quiet the entire time, lost in his own thoughts.
Why him?
Jaune, along with a few others, had noticed it. The way she hovered near him. The way she spoke for him. A bitter taste filled Jaune's mouth. He wasn't stupid. He could see the interest she held for him. He had also seen the way everyone else looked at him—with awe, fear, or even respect. Things he had never been given.
He knew his own strength had always been lacking. Even with training, even with effort, he had always felt like he was trying to catch up to those ahead of him.
But this guy… he wasn't just ahead. He was in a league of his own. He had spent so long trying to prove himself, trying to gain even a fraction of the respect that Naruto so effortlessly received. Yet here he was, barely even acknowledging it. And Jaune hated that he felt jealous of it.
Then, without warning, he stopped walking. The sudden halt sent a ripple of confusion through the group.
Yang nearly bumped into him, muttering under her breath as she caught herself. Ruby frowned, tilting her head. The air had shifted. It was subtle but undeniable. The forest, once alive with the distant hum of nature, now felt suffocatingly silent.
Their presumed leader stood motionless, his head tilted slightly as if listening to something they couldn't hear. His posture was rigid, a tension coiled in his stance like a predator preparing to strike.
Cinder stepped forward, her voice sharp with impatience. "Kiaya, what is it?" To which she received, no answer.
His covered gaze drifted into the trees, his hand instinctively resting on the hilt of his blade. His fingers curled around the grip, steady, prepared. The air around him seemed heavier now as if the world itself had taken notice of his shift in demeanor.
Then, in a quiet measured voice, he spoke, "Come out."
The others exchanged uneasy glances. Nothing moved. The forest remained still, the wind no longer whispering through the branches. Even the distant calls of wildlife had ceased, as if the very earth was holding its breath.
His grip on his blade tightened, his tone growing colder. "Stop hiding. I can sense you're aura." They heard a soft rustle. Then, they saw her.
A young girl emerged from the shadows of the trees, stepping hesitantly onto the path before them. Her orange hair was slightly disheveled, strands falling messily over her face. She was young—too young to be out in a place like this alone. Her small frame was wrapped in simple, unassuming clothes, the kind worn by civilians. But something was wrong.
Then he saw it—the blank mask covering her face. It was an eerie thing, featureless save for the hollow black eyeholes that concealed whatever lay beneath. The mask was smooth, almost too pristine against the girl's otherwise scruffy appearance, and that contrast made something deep within Ruby's stomach twist. Before anyone could react, steel whispered through the air. The air around them grew heavier, a sudden weight pressing against their chests.
A blade was drawn. Cold metal gleamed under the fractured sunlight filtering through the trees. Its edge, razor-sharp, was pointed directly at the child.
Shock rippled through the group once again.
"What are you doing?!" Ruby was the first to break the silence, rushing forward to place herself between them. Her arms stretched out protectively in front of the girl. "She's just a kid!"
Naruto's eyes widened in alarm. "Get back."
Ruby glanced over her shoulder at the small figure behind her. The girl hadn't moved. She simply stood there, silent, watching. Her head tilted slightly, and Ruby could just barely make out her breathing—slow, calm, unfazed.
"No!" Ruby shook her head, grounding herself. "We're not just going to attack someone out of nowhere!" She turned toward the girl, her voice softer now. "Are you lost? Are you hurt? What are you doing out here all alone?"
The girl didn't answer, she just stood there. A chill slithered down Ruby's spine. She attempted to ignore it. "Hey, it's okay," she continued, stepping closer, and offering a small, reassuring smile. "We can help you. What's your name?"
The girl's head tilted slightly again. The motion was almost… unnatural. Then, softly, she spoke. "I… don't remember."
Ruby's expression softened. "That's alright. Do you know where your family is?"
There was a silent pause. Then, slowly, the girl shook her head. Ruby felt her heartache at the sight. Whatever this child had been through, it had clearly taken a toll on her. She turned back to the others, expression pleading. "We can't just leave her here."
The blonde warrior's grip on his sword remained firm. "She's dangerous."
Ruby scowled. "She's a child."
Naruto's voice sharpened as he retorted, "She's not what she seems." Before Ruby could argue further, she felt it—a slight tug at her sleeve. She looked down to see the girl's small hand gripping the fabric of her cloak. Her breath hitched as the girl slowly tilted her head up, her mask staring directly at Ruby.
Then discomfort.
A sharp, searing pain bloomed in her shoulder. Gasps filled the air as the others watched in horror. The girl's jaw had unhinged widely before her teeth sank deep into Ruby's flesh. It wasn't a normal bite—no human child should have been able to do this. Ruby's vision blurred, shock numbing her senses before the burning agony set in.
"RUBY!"
Yang and Naruto moved in an instant, but it was too late. Ruby's knees buckled, her body wavering. Strength left her limbs like water slipping through her fingers. She barely had time to process what had happened before her vision darkened, her aura suddenly nonexistent and her consciousness quickly slipping.
The last thing she heard was his voice, no longer calm, no longer unreadable— "Get away from her!"
Then, darkness swallowed her whole.
End!
Will Ruby survive? Will Blake figure out Naruto's true identity? Will Beacon realize they've been infiltrated? When did he learn sealing techniques? Will the newcomers defeat the cast members? Will Jaune end up with Cinder? Will I ever finish the story?
Find out on the next episode of Dragon ba- sh*t wrong one. Find out on the next episode of Kaze no Hono.
Until Next Time InsanityDies~