Jaune stared at the screen for a long moment in time. Furious whispers broke out across the room, excitement building as their famous classmate was set to do battle in their class for the first time. None of the excitement was for him. Pyrrha stood and made her way down into the arena without a word, prompting Jaune to stand and follow. A bout of nerves assaulted him as he descended to the stage, his stomach twisting in knots.

He was confident in his abilities. His teacher had taught him well, and Jaune was a diligent student. Over the years, he had trained until his hands blistered, until his arms and legs felt like lead weights, until his lungs burned with every breath. The memory of the attack on his village had been his motivating force and Jaune had never taken a day off, had never taken any shortcuts. He had worked himself to the bone and beyond, pushing his limits until he broke through any barrier that stood before him, be it mental or physical.

But was he ready for this?

According to Weiss, Pyrrha was a four time champion, a fighting prodigy. The best of the best, and Jaune had seen glimpses of that greatness during initiation. Not just in her but in all of his new companions, for the first time placing doubt in his mind.

Had he just been a big fish in a little pond? His teacher had told him, had warned him about this. That while he was a qualified Huntsman, he was hardly the best or brightest. He had graduated but he was nothing special, just another Huntsman off the ranks. He would teach Jaune what he knew, train him until he could kill Grimm, but after that, it was all up to him if he wished to reach for greater heights.

Jaune was beginning to understand what he had meant by his words. As a young boy, a Huntsman was a Huntsman. They were all the same to him. But he was discovering now that there were levels to this, and Pyrrha – if Weiss' words were to be believed, she was at the very top. The highest mountain, the longest river.

If he didn't want to embarrass himself in front of all his new classmates, he needed to bring it.

Jaune stood across from her, noticing her calm face and relaxed stance. There wasn't an ounce of worry in her. Meanwhile, Jaune felt how tense his muscles already were, his body taut, his heart racing with anticipation. That wouldn't do. He needed to calm down.

Closing his eyes, he took a deep breath – and then another, and another. Jaune recalled the fear he felt, facing down his first Grimm after the incident with his sisters. The terror but also the rage, blending together into a dangerous, potent cocktail of emotion. He had overcome those feelings. Compared to that, this was nothing.

His heart slowed, his muscles relaxing. Opening his eyes, blue met green. Determination replaced nervousness, a steely resolve taking over. Gripping his sword, he unsheathed it with a loud rasp. Pyrrha watched him with laser focus as he turned his body, lowering himself into a loose stance, both hands curling around the hilt of his blade as he raised it above his head, his left arm across his chest and under his chin, sword parallel to the ground. The ox, or so his teacher claimed.

The blade was neither completely vertical or horizontal, held at a slight angle, the tip aligned with Pyrrha's throat. After a moment, Pyrrha removed her sword from her back, as well as her shield, bending at the knees, ready.

Jaune took a final breath, and held it as Professor Goodwitch raised her riding crop.

"Begin~!" she shouted – and Pyrrha blurred, crossing the distance between them within a blink of an eye. She was fast, crossing the distance effortlessly – not as fast as Ruby with her semblance, but faster than anyone else Jaune had seen in person.

But he was ready for her.

Jaune released his breath, stepping forward and bringing his sword down in a swift, powerful slash. Steel rang true as sword clashed against shield, green eyes holding his own as she blocked his attack, Crocea Mors rasping across the surface as she tilted the face, deflecting his attack. Quick as a viper, Pyrrha struck but Jaune stepped forward again, removing her angle of attack, the tip of her sword passing by his back.

Turning, Jaune swung with a perfect backswing cross cut, lashing out at her exposed lower back, sword meeting shield once again as she spun to meet him. This time she twisted the shield, forcing his blade down as she shoved. Jaune dug his feet in, muscles bulging as they engaged in a brief competition of strength.

She was strong. Not the ridiculous, semblance empowered strength Nora and Yang presented, but a strength born of her body, her broad shoulders locking as she tried to shift him. They struggled against one another before Jaune stepped back, her leg lashing out at his knee, clipping him. The pain was dulled by aura, and then she was airborne, leaping at him, shield in front with her sword arm reared back, point spearing at his face.

Crocea Mors met it, slashing, swiping it aside – and then their bodies came together, her shield ramming into his right shoulder. Jaune allowed himself to be forced back, bleeding off the force of her jump before swinging up, trying to strike her in the face with his elbow. Pyrrha avoided it by leaning back and he followed, sword aimed at her neck.

She dropped down in a crouch, spinning – and then Jaune found himself tumbling as her leg swept him off his feet, crashing to the ground with a grunt. He quickly rolled as she stabbed at him, regaining his footing but she was upon him in a flurry of strikes, so swift and precise that he couldn't block all of them, their blades sparking from the force of their blows.

She cut along his arms, biting into his aura. Gritting his teeth, he went on the attack. She blocked the first and second slashes, shield and sword intercepting him, and then she avoided the third, a downward slash before chambering a kick. Jaune hissed as her armored shin slammed into his side, throwing him aside.

He expected her to follow after him but she remained where she was, resetting her stance. Jaune frowned before bringing his sword in front of his body before bringing the hilt down by his hip into what his teacher called the plow, the tip pointed at Pyrrha's chest.

"Woo, come on, Jaune~!" Nora screamed, and it was only then that Jaune realized the din of the crowd. Everyone was on their feet, leaning forward eagerly, clapping and cheering. He had been completely deaf to it, so focused on their exchange that it was only now that the sound reached him.

"You can do it, Pyrrha~!" Ruby matched her, high voice piercing above all the cheering.

Their clash had been short, a matter of seconds, but Jaune felt like he had learned a lot about her. His hands tightened and loosened around the leather grip, adjusting his hold on his sword. Pyrrha's face was calm, breathing even, as if they hadn't just exchanged a flurry of blows.

He had yet to hit her.

If he was to win, that would have to change.

This time, Jaune advanced. Lunging, he probed her defenses, thrusting lightly, feinting. She didn't take the bait, stepping back, forcing him to commit. Dashing in, he thrust at her face, Crocea Mors knocked aside as she stepped back in, sword blurring at his neck. He tanked the strike on his vambrace, wrist twisting as he attempted to grab her hand. A knee slammed into his back, pain lancing up his spine but instead of falling, he spun, slashing powerfully. Pyrrha ducked and so he kicked out at her, his boot missing her face as she jerked aside.

Again he found himself tumbling, swept. Jaune hit the ground, twisting away. Pyrrha shot in but was forced to block as he lashed out from his downed position, and then he was on his feet, thrusting at her shoulder. She twirled away effortlessly, and when he tried to press her, she flipped back, feet flashing by his face as he jerked away.

She landed in a crouch.

He needed to up the tempo.

Focusing his aura, semblance bloomed to life. Power flowed through his muscles, his strength and speed amplified, as well as the excitement of the battle, flowing through his veins. Everything about him was strengthened, made more; his focus, his reflexes, but also the negatives. The slight doubt in the back of his mind grew, amplified like everything else – but it was manageable.

This time when he dashed, he crossed the distance in a blink, the floor cracking at his starting position. He saw the surprise cross her expression, the first hint of emotion from her since the fight began. Crocea Mors was a silver flash, her shield rising to meet it.

The clang was deafening, covering Pyrrha's grunt as she was rocked by the amplified force of his blow. Off balance, she stumbled back and Jaune followed her, flowing into the next strike, and then another, and then another. He was a whirlwind of slashes, swift like the wind, each one with the force of a cannon. Even though she was off balance, Pyrrha deflected each blow, stumbling back under the furious assault.

He saw his opening, the last slashing forcing her shield aside and he went for it, thrusting at her exposed face. One moment she was there, and then the next she was gone, moving aside with incredible speed. A knee buried itself in his stomach, and then the edge of her shield slammed into the side of his head, rocking him.

This time he was stumbling back, Pyrrha a flurry of furious sword strikes and pistoning shield bashes, carving swaths of aura off him as she drove him back. He tried to retaliate but she was moving so swiftly, he couldn't keep up. For every blocked attack, three found purchase.

Setting his feet, he lunged at her but she was already moving, flipping over him, her shield slamming into the back of his head. Jaune stumbled, turning only to catch several rounds to the face. Sword now a rifle, she peppered him with shots before morphing into a javelin, throwing it at him with a bang. He managed to deflect it, only for Pyrrha to come flying in with a bone shuddering knee, slamming into his chest plate and blowing him across the stage.

Jaune tumbled several feet before coming to a stop.

What the hell was that?

He looked up and watched as she approached her weapon, picking it up calmly.

"Get up, get up, get up~!" Nora screamed.

A glance at the screens showed that his aura was still high, not even in the yellow after that furious assault. Pyrrha seemed to notice as well, her expression hardening.

He needed more.

Aura bled off him as he pushed his semblance further, motes of yellow light rising from his body. The meter on the screen filled up in a matter of seconds, and that garnered a reaction.

"It seems I won't be able to reduce your aura to the red," Pyrrha said. She almost sounded impressed. "I already knew that your semblance was powerful but I did not know the extent of it."

He needed to be careful. Even though he felt stronger and faster than ever before, everything else was more. The creeping doubt grew ever larger, as well as the feelings of frustration he felt at not being able to hit her, even when he had her on the back foot. Reaching down, he deployed his shield for the first time, wielding his sword in one hand.

"This was a good fight," she said – and while it may have sounded like a compliment, Jaune couldn't help but feel like it was mocking. Was a good fight, not is.

As if it was already over.

The stage caved as he erupted from his spot like a comet, an unstoppable force. Pyrrha moved, his slash missing her face by a matter of centimeters. Strands of crimson hair floated in the breeze created by his charge, and green eyes hardened when she saw them. His next slash was met with one of her own, their swords shuddering from the power generated between them.

How…?

She met him blow for blow, her crimson-bronze blade flashing as she attacked. Each swing of his sword created shock waves, and yet she matched him, strike for strike, block for block, taking everything he had and dishing it back in kind.

Even amplified to the limit, she was able to keep up with him. Where before he had been able to force her back, she now stood her ground, sword spinning as she released it and caught it in a reverse grip. She lashed out at his face and he blocked with his shield, her leg cannoning into his side. Without his semblance, he would have been taken off his feet. Instead with a bright flash, her leg was blasted away, and he saw a grimace flash across her expression.

That had hurt her. She wouldn't try striking him again with her body.

But no matter how hard he swung, how fast he moved, she matched him. He didn't know how she was doing it but the feelings of frustration only grew, quickly boiling over as he hunted for her, to land a single blow, anything. Her heels slid across the ground as he shoulder checked her, her shield taking the brunt of the hit before she pushed him back, his boots ripping up floor boards as they cracked beneath the force being exerted.

Crocea Mors cleaved through the stage as she moved aside, the edge of her shield slamming into his face. Another bright flash and her shield was repelled, though his head was rocked back from the sheer force of her blow.

He saw it then, that faint haze of black around her shield before it faded. Jaune remembered seeing it during their fight with the Hydra, and the way she had manipulated her weapon through the air, as if she had it on a string.

Was this her semblance?

But whatever it was, he hadn't a clue about its capabilities. It allowed her to match his speed and strength, and that was all that mattered. Pyrrha parried his next swing, her blade swiping across his face. The pain was practically non-existent, and he continued forward, the very air whistling as if in pain as he swung with all his might. Pyrrha moved aside.

He couldn't win.

Jaune grit his teeth, the doubts overflowing and becoming toxic. His anger roared through him, making him see red, a fury unmatched, his emotions amplified – and then everything blanked. The next thing he knew, he was on his back, staring up at the domed ceiling. Blinking slowly, he glanced around and saw that he was off the stage.

"The winner of this match – Pyrrha Nikos."

The applause was thunderous.

Confusion reigned as he lay there, confused. He'd been knocked out of the ring? With a groan, he sat up, rubbing his face. Looking up, he saw Pyrrha standing on the stage, bowing as the applause grew louder. His aura was full and yet...

She'd beaten him.

He'd been completely outmatched.

Jaune never believed himself to have an ego. He always thought he was a pretty level headed person. Not stoic, he wore his emotions openly – but he was realistic, and understood his place in the world. He was confident in his ability with a sword but knew that he was far from the best.

He never expected to meet someone his own age that could so thoroughly trounce him, though. Even though his teacher downplayed his own abilities, he had been a fully licensed Huntsman, a graduate of one of the big four. And not even he could match Jaune's strength and speed when fully engaging his semblance.

This was an eye opening experience. Jaune hadn't believed he would win easily or anything like that, he wasn't so arrogant. But he had believed he'd be able to land a hit, to put up a fight. All those long hours, pushing his body to the brink – for this? To lose his first ever fight against an opponent not his mentor, in devastating fashion.

He felt like he had let himself down.

Jaune climbed to his feet as Professor Goodwitch gave Pyrrha a run down. There wasn't much to say. She had performed exceptionally. Jaune had found it strange that Goodwitch only ever spoke to the winners but right now, it was a blessing. He didn't wish to hear about his shortcomings right now, trudging back up the stairs to his seat after picking up his sword, and collapsing his shield.

It wasn't until he was sitting down that he noticed that everyone was gawking at him. Not just his teammates and friends, but the other students. Some were even pointing, whispering amongst themselves.

"What?" he asked, a tad defensively.

"Ohmygod," Ruby exploded, throwing up her hands. "That was so freakin' awesome, Jaune~!"

He blinked. "Uh – what?"

Nora grabbed him and shook him wildly. "You were all like whoosh and rawr, and you totally tore up half the stage!"

Jaune looked down to the arena and saw what she meant. Large sections of the stage were ruined, wood splintered and stone beneath cleaved by his blade. A path of destruction had been carved across the ring, all the way to where he'd ended up on the floor, the wall above where he'd been laying smashed similar to when Blake had been blasted off the stage. Professor Goodwitch waved her riding crop and already, things were being patched up, but it was going to take a little more time.

He wanted to ask how he'd ended up there but felt embarrassed that he couldn't remember. Thankfully, Blake had been recording the fight and she held it up, the final moments. It wasn't anything spectacular; he'd gone for a sweeping slash and Pyrrha had tripped him, her shield sliding underneath his foot and pushing him off balance, the incredible force of his charge carrying him off the stage and into the wall.

"Uh – hah?" he rubbed his neck.

A foolish end to a foolish bout, but his friends didn't think so.

"That was a very impressive showing," Weiss complimented, nodding at him. "You continue to surprise me."

Coming from Weiss, that should have meant a lot. Even in the short time he'd known her, Jaune knew that she didn't give out such words lightly. But it did little to penetrate the gloom he was feeling, the disappointment – at his inability to hit her, at himself for losing control at the end.

Pyrrha had shown him what being strong really looked like.

Ren was watching him carefully, and looked like he wanted to say something when Pyrrha returned.

Yang raised a hand, shaking it back and forth, waiting for a high-five. "Way to go, P-Money~!"

Pyrrha looked confused, head tilted slightly as she slapped Yang's hand. "P-Money?"

"Cuz you straight money, girl – that was incredible," Yang praised, turning to face Jaune. "Seriously, both of you. You tore the place down," she waved at the ruined stage. "Literally!"

Pyrrha smiled, and their eyes met. Jaune looked away first.

Pyrrha frowned. "Thank you. I did my best."

Had she, though? Was that her best? Or had she been holding back, even then? Jaune hated thinking that, and banished the thoughts from his mind. That way only led to bitterness.

This was the one thing he disliked about his semblance. The increased potency of his emotions, even afterwards, the lingering after-effects of the amplification process. It was all too easy to fall into a rapturous joy, or a spiral of depression.

The double edged sword of his soul.

"Jaune," Pyrrha said, and reluctantly, he looked her way. "That was a fine match."

She was being nice.

He nodded, putting on his best smile. "Thanks."

What else could he say?

The next match was between a pair he didn't know, and then Ruby was called up. She faced off against Russel Thrush, one of Cardin's teammates. His head was mostly shaved except for the pale green mohawk that cut through the center of his scalp, his clothes consisting of a green hoodie with the sleeves cut off, a single spiked spaulder on his left shoulder, bracers, dark pants and brown boots. His exposed arms were lean with wiry muscle, and overall he had a very rough appearance.

Ruby must have thought the same because she kept shooting Russel nervous glances which he returned with a gleeful smirk, eyes narrowed. It made him look like a shark, ready to devour its prey.

Once the fight began, however – it was clear that Ruby was the superior combatant. Russel wielded a pair of vicious daggers, the blades curved with a revolving dust chamber much like Weiss' rapier built into the hilts. They looked impressive but Ruby's scythe gave her a massive reach advantage, and her speed was too much for Russel to handle. He tried his best but she overwhelmed him with supreme pace and skill, sweeping him off his feet multiple times and carving through his aura like he was a holiday turkey.

He did manage to lock her up momentarily with some Fire Dust, creating a ring of flames that contained her. Until she decided to go straight up, finishing the bout with a massive dive, blasting through his aura with a powerful guillotine-like swing that slammed him into the floor, head first, her hooked blade curled around his neck.

She may have been younger than everyone else but Ruby was the real deal.

Even Weiss clapped, more evidence that Ruby belonged here.

After them, Ren went next. He fought a snake faunus with a bo staff that doubled as a pike, and then could be broken down further into two smaller spears. He was incredibly skilled with his weapon, able to deflect Ren's bullets with ease, and the fight was close. With Nora cheering her heart out, Ren managed to land the win with a brutal combination, his martial arts combined with aura infused strikes taking down his opponent.

Then it was Weiss' turn – and her opponent? Cardin Winchester.

"Good luck," Blake offered, much to the heiress' surprise. Weiss stared at her for a moment, unsure.

"Thank you," Weiss said. "But luck has nothing to do with what is about to happen."

Blake smiled, nodding, further surprising her. "Destroy him."

Nora snickered as Weiss made her way down, leaning forward to grin at Blake. "He really upset you, huh?"

Blake crossed her arms. "Bigots like him need to be taken down."

She then shot Jaune a concerned glance. "You've been silent since your match. Are you okay?"

He nodded. "Yeah… just disappointed."

That wasn't a lie. Now that he had a bit of distance from the match, he was feeling better but he was still disappointed by how things went. The after effects of his semblance had cleared, no longer bringing him down, affording him a more level headed take.

He'd messed up. He'd tried to overwhelm Pyrrha with strength and speed, but her skill more than made up for it. Her superior experience in fighting human opponents was a chasm he could not so easily cross with just physical ability. And then there was that power of hers – her semblance, whatever it was.

It leveled the playing field in terms of raw power and speed.

He'd lost on all fronts – now he needed to learn from it, and run it back. Next time, he wouldn't be so easily defeated.

Blake touched his arm, her fingers lightly squeezing before retreating. "Don't be so hard on yourself."

"Yeah, Pyrrha is a monster," Nora said, though thankfully not loud enough for the subject of their discussion to hear it. A first, since Nora typically talked very loudly. "I don't think any of us can beat her."

Jaune wasn't mad that he lost, though. He was mad that he couldn't even hit her.

"This'll be quick," Cardin announced loudly, walking with a definite swagger.

"Yes," Weiss agreed. "It will be."

There was some laughter in the crowd and Cardin scowled, hefting his large mace up off his shoulders and letting it hit the ground. There was a loud crunch as the weight caved in a few of the boards.

"This isn't a place for rich girls to play at being Huntresses," he said. "Your bank account isn't going to help you here."

The bout was a lot closer than they were hoping. While Weiss held the advantage in speed and skill, Cardin was a wall of steel plate and frightening strength. He had a lot of aura. Not as much as Jaune did, and he didn't have a semblance that made his already large reserves ridiculous like Jaune, but he was able to shrug off Weiss' attacks with sheer bulk.

Weiss chipped away at him, her rapier flashing like a needle while Cardin swung with wide, cleaving swings, hoping to take her out in one hit. The way the ground crumpled whenever his mace struck, Jaune knew that one hit may be all it would take.

Weiss wasn't exactly the biggest person. It was liable to smash her straight off the stage, and that was before wondering what sort of damage it would do to her aura.

But no matter how hard he swung, he couldn't catch her.

So instead, he didn't try to hit her directly. On her next pass, the gem encased within the head of his mace lit up, a violet red.

Dust.

Weiss had already committed to her attack, and so when his mace struck the ground, she couldn't avoid the massive concussive force that shook the entire room, Jaune feeling the building shudder beneath his feet. Fire swept across the arena in all directions, engulfing Weiss in a hellstorm.

"Woah~!" Yang exclaimed, suddenly alert. "Damn, that is some serious firepower."

She wasn't kidding. Jaune leaned forward, suddenly worried.

He could still see Cardin, towering above the destruction he'd wrought. Smoke obscured most of the stage but Jaune could make out the ruptured and scorched wood, and smell it. There was a long beat of silence, then another, the crowd holding its breath, and then…

They saw it. A dome of crystallized ice, half melted from the extreme heat but still intact.

"Using Dust against me?" Weiss' voice carried sharply, the indignation clear. "I think you need a lesson in manners."

There was a thunderous crack and an arc of lightning slammed into Cardin's chest, ripping through the air in a furious tear. Body locking up, Cardin screamed as he was lifted off his feet and carried off the stage, aura shuddering but holding.

As the smoke cleared, a smug Weiss Schnee stood tall in victory.

It was an impressive image, only ruined slightly by the clear burn marks covering her combat skirt.

"Winner – Weiss Schnee!" Goodwitch called.

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